#this trade just keeps breaking my heart

[lilywhiteandburgundyandblue]

mikko's interview in a finnish newspaper:

Media speculation suggested that Rantanen’s salary demands were too high for Colorado.

“I don’t think that’s true. I don’t want to talk exact numbers, but I was willing to take a significant cut below my market value. That’s why this trade was such a shock to me,” Rantanen explained.

As the fall progressed without a contract extension, outside speculation about a potential trade grew. However, the Finnish star remained confident.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be traded. I truly believed we’d reach a deal at some point, but they decided otherwise. The lines of communication with the team were never completely closed, though we weren’t talking daily,” Rantanen recounted.

Rantanen learned about the trade Friday evening when Avalanche GM Chris MacFarland called him. The next morning, he traveled to New York to join the Hurricanes and played that evening on the top line alongside Sebastian Aho. Carolina lost to the Islanders in overtime, 3–2.

Rantanen admitted he hadn’t fully processed what had happened yet.

“It all happened so fast. I didn’t get much sleep, and today I had to focus on the game. Maybe it will hit me harder once I have time to reflect on it.”

Rantanen, however, was already looking ahead. He didn’t register any points in the game but began to build chemistry with Aho as the match progressed.

“I’m not sad at all; it’s time to look forward. Carolina has great players and other Finns around me. My goal is to adapt to the system as quickly as possible so I can perform at my best,” Rantanen said.

He revealed he had no idea Colorado was planning to trade him.

“The trade came as a huge surprise to me—I didn’t see it coming at all. For the first time, I’ve now experienced just how ruthless the NHL business can be,” Rantanen said.

[the-darklings]

FOR YOUR ARCANE PROMPTS LIST POOKIE: "hands under your lover's clothes" w/Silco??? perhaps?? perchance?? PLS PLS POOKIE, MY GLORIOUS QUEEN, MY EVERYTHING <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ silco x gn!reader, complicated relationship, a little angst, no spoilers for s2, cat & mouse dynamic but who is who? wc: 768

“It’s dangerous playing games with a patient man.”

“Are you? Patient?”

Silco’s mouth flutters into what could pass for a fleeting smile. It’s a rare expression on him, an ease that is seldom seen in the years since he left Vander’s side. Nowadays, he is nothing like the fresh-faced youth so desperate to fix the world you first met.

“More so than many, I’d reckon,” he replies placidly, watching you with idle interest. You lean on his oak wood desk, the rough grain of the wood warm beneath your fingers as you skim over his notes and ledgers. His meticulous nature is evident in the way he organised everything about the Shimmer trade. It’s almost irritating. “You are here for a reason.”

The gentle accusation falls on deaf ears.

“I was just saying hello,” you drawl, your voice low, swinging your attention his way. Silco’s scoff is a low, throaty sound, barely audible, but filled with disdain. 

You’re not sure when it started, you and him. If it was survival or a desire for a better life that drove you both from the start. You wanted freedom and independence and then he took the Undercity, and, in a way, you too. Since then, you’ve existed in his sphere, enjoying his favour. Flaunt it without making it obvious, slipping past the cracks of his rules. 

He appears so collected on his chair, a king on his throne in truth, but his immaculate clothes are wrinkled, buttons undone, and his Adam’s apple bobs when you touch his tie. You know better than to go near his throat. The last time you did, fingers eager and teeth nipping at the taut flesh there, he jerked back as if shocked. Terror and rage had overcome him, twisting you on his bed, still tangled in each other, before you could turn back your instincts. When his hands closed around your throat in response, you didn’t fight him off, and maybe it was that above all else that made Silco snap out of his spell.

No, instead, you slip your hand past the unbuttoned shirt, tracing over his sharp collarbone. Silco rests his cheek lightly on his hand, watching you through a narrowed eyed stare. Daring you, yes, but also curious. The heavy scarring on his face never bothered you. You didn’t lack scars of your own, but this… 

You slip forward, knee resting on the chair between his parted legs, hand slipping lower, to rest over his thudding heart. 

“Hello.” Your lips shape the word before you breathe them against his lips again. Your free hand cups his face and the hard beat of his heart echoes against your palm. 

The kiss is gentle, more civilised than either of you are used to, a sweetness that lingers even though it’s not what either of you normally craves, but when he doesn’t pull away, a secret thrill shoots up your spine. His deep inhale fills your ears, the heat of his lips imprinting on yours. A deep, rumbling sound vibrates through his chest when you deepen the kiss, your fingers moving in gentle circles over his skin. 

With a viper’s swiftness, Silco snaps his hand behind your head when you break the kiss, keeping you close. Nose to nose, your breaths mingle. You can’t quite tell what lingers in his burning gaze, one icy blue, another molten gold. 

“Are you hoping to endear yourself to me?” he asks, knowing and throaty. “A foolish play.”

“I won’t say that,” you say, breathless. “And if I was… well, I think you’re holding up just fine.”

Licking your lips, you pull back, grinning at him. He hasn’t moved, his knuckles returning to his cheek. Nonchalant, except for the heavy weight with which he still examines you. Silco won’t indulge you in admitting you do this because you’re the only one he can rely on in this shitty, twisted world of yours. You support his vision, you’ve always believed it, even when you were younger. 

Adjusting your dishevelled clothes, you look over at him once more. Not so crisp and orderly for once. Satisfaction nestles in your gut at the observation that the usually perfectly groomed and dressed man—this infamous crime lord—is a mess in the dim light of his office. Undone. Caught. Even if predatory hunger reflects in that golden hue. 

You wag your fingers in a playful wave. “It’s dangerous playing games with patient people, love, haven’t you heard?”

[jennaflare]

So Disco Elysium is the only game you've ever really liked

I get it! It's a phenomenal game with superb art and writing, and its themes are consistent and deeply explored. It sets a high bar for video games. But there are other really, really fantastic games out there. This is a list that is 100% my own taste of things that aren't necessarily similar, other than the fact that they're really fucking good. (A lot of these are on sale for the Steam Summer Sale until July 11 2024!)

In Stars and Time

In Stars and Time is a time loop game where you play as Siffrin, the rogue of a party at the end of their quest to save the day by defeating the King, who is freezing everybody in time! But something is wrong: every time you die, you loop back to the day before you fight the King. You're the only one who remembers the loops, so it's up to you to figure out why it's happening, and how to break out.

In Stars and Time is a heart-wrenching dive into mental health, friendship, and love. It's about feeling alone, and how awful it is when the people who love you don't notice (and how awful it is when they do). It's about falling deeper and deeper into your worst self and your worst tendencies, and how to come back from it.

The creator also did one of my favorite Disco Elysium comics ever, which is only tangentially relevant but worth mentioning.

Roadwarden

In Roadwarden, you play as the titular Roadwarden for an undeveloped and "wild" part of the kingdom. Monsters roam the forests and roads, and it's your job to keep people safe. On paper, anyway. Your real mission is to find out what is of value in the area, and how to take it from its people. How well you perform this task is up to you. It's an oldschool text-based RPG, and I take a lot of notes by hand when I play.

Roadwarden explores exploitation and industrialization by making you look in the face of your potential victims. You can only learn what your bosses want you to report on by getting close to the residents, after all. There are mysteries to be solved, secrets to be gathered, and hearts to win.

The Longing

The Longing is an adventure-idle game where you play as the solitary servant of a sleeping king. Your task is to wait for him, for four hundred days. Time in the game passes in realtime (for the most part). There are caves to explore, books to be read, and drawings to make.

The Longing is about loneliness and depression. It's about whether or not you decide to stay in that hole, and if you do, what you do with yourself while you're there. Maybe you'll wander. Maybe you'll stare at a wall. Maybe you'll just sleep until it's all over.

Papers, Please

Papers, Please casts you as a newly hired customs officer in a country that is rapidly tightening its borders as its fascist government tightens its fist. This game is stressful. Sometimes you intend to help out the revolutionaries when they asked, but then you got so stressed out trying to make your quota so you can feed your family and pay your bills that you didn't notice the name of the person they were hoping to contact while going through their papers. Sometimes someone puts a bomb in front of you and expects you to defuse it. Sometimes someone suggests you steal people's passports so you can get your family out, and with the horror you see daily, the idea tempts you more than you'd like.

Papers, Please is all about hard choices and testing your moral fortitude. Everything you do has consequences. Being a good person in this game is hardly ever rewarded, but not in a way that feels overly cynical. Papers, Please asks you what kind of person you want to be and what you're willing to sacrifice to get there.

The Return of the Obra Dinn

From the creator of Papers, Please, The Return of the Obra Dinn is a game where you play as an insurance investigator for the East India Trading Company. The ship the Obra Dinn has just floated back into port, its entire crew missing or dead. It's your job to figure out what happened aboard the vessel. For insurance reasons.

I don't know how to go into the themes of this too deeply without giving away too much, but the mechanics of the game itself make the game worth playing. You have a magic stopwatch that allows you to go back to the moment of a person's death, allowing you to try and figure out who (or what) killed them, and how. And the soundtrack is extremely good.

Outer Wilds

In Outer Wilds you play as an unnamed alien, and it's your first day going to space! Your planet's space program is pretty new still, so there's still lots to explore and discover on the planets within your system. There are ancient ruins from a mysterious race that once lived in your system, long before your species began to record history. Why were they here? Where did they go? How are they connected to the weird thing that keeps happening to you?

The fun of Outer Wilds is in the discovery and answering your own questions. The game never tells you where to go, and it never outright tells you anything. There are clues scattered through the system, and it's up to you to put them together and figure out your next steps. It's about the way that life always goes on, no matter what, even when it seems like the end of everything, forever. I'd recommend NOT reading anything else about this game. Just go play it. Seriously, the less you know, the more fun this is.

If on a Winter's Night, Four Travelers

In If on a Winter's Night, Four Travelers, you explore the circumstances of the deaths of four individuals.

This is a short one that took me about two and a half hours to play. If for no other reason, play it for the stunning pixel art. The game explores sexism, racism, and homophobia in the Victorian era and leans heavily into horror themes. Best of all: it's completely free!

Pentiment

Pentiment takes you to the 16th century, where you take the role of Andreas Maler, a journeyman artist working on his masterwork in the scriptorium of an abbey. When someone is murdered, Andreas takes responsibility for finding the culprit.

The game is set over 20~ years and you get to watch how Andreas' actions affect the village in various ways (who's alive the next time you come by, have people gotten married and had children...). It's an exploration of how the past affects the future, and what parts of that past we choose to keep or discard. It has beautiful art, and fans of both Disco and Pentiment often compare them.

Other games you might wanna check out

Night in the Woods, Dredge, Oxenfree, A House of Many Doors, Inscryption, Slay the Princess, Citizen Sleeper, Chants of Sennar, Loop Hero, The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood, The Pale Beyond, Where the Water Tastes Like Wine, Elsinore, Her Story, Before Your Eyes, Pathologic (not delved into above because the venn diagram of Pathologic fans and Disco fans is basically a circle)

[kaciidubs]

Wait Your Turn

❣ Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 5.7k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Pup, Bub, Kitten, Muse, Jagi[ya], Sunshine, Noona, probably the filthiest thing I've written so far, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Being in a polyamorous relationship with one of the busiest idol groups meant having to apply schedules to the most mundane parts of your life; which dorm you stay at for the week, who wants to go on solo dates and who wants to do group dates, and most importantly, who's the next to get laid by you and when.

Granted, these types of things are only applied when they're in the midst of a comeback - making sure their work life doesn't interfere with your relationship - but when the dreadful time does come around, the struggle truly begins.

Each of your boys were different in terms of their needs, so the schedule was set to alternate between the needier members having more frequent interactions with you throughout the week while the more independent members cashed their time during off days or weekends.

It was a strange system to adapt to, but you all made it work for the length of the comebacks - though, that doesn't mean it always held up. Some of the boys cracked, some deciding to share their time with you and another boy while others asked for trades in their time slots to see you sooner, but they always did their best not to alter the schedule too much.

That is, until week two came and you were begged for a cuddle session from a certain Aussie leader - Changbin agreeing to save his night for another day since Chris only went out of turn when he was really in his head about something.

You slipped into his room easily, getting bathed in the soft purple lighting of his room as you shut the door behind you. "You okay, Channie?"

He turned onto his side, putting his phone on the small table next to his bed before reaching his hand out, "Yeah, just need you in my arms, love."

Your heart fluttered, obliging his request with a smile as you happily rush to his bed, letting him pull you under the blanket and into his warmth - your darling personal heater who rarely wore anything more than boxer briefs to bed.

It doesn't take long until you're settled underneath him, caged between his arms while his slim hips keeps your legs separated, soft lips pressing to your own with barely hidden intent.

"Christopher," you hum against his lips, pulling away just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, "what are you up to, mister?"

"Need you," he breathed softly, pecking your lips once again before kissing just under your jaw, "need you so bad, baby."

A soft moan floated past your lips as he nipped at your sweet spot, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, "You know it's not your night, baby - we can't."

"No one needs to know, yeah?" His lips continued down, wet kisses left in his wake until he moved back up to your face, eyes lidded and fogged over with lust. "It's just one night, princess, please." Pressing his body against yours, he ground his hips, further enticing you with the feeling of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "Please, princess, just for daddy?"

In all honesty, you should've stuck to the rules, you should've been the voice of reason, but then his lips were on yours again and all thoughts of rationality went out the window.

When he felt you melt into the kiss he sighed a breath of relief, pulling away to sit himself up on his knees, "I'll do all the work, baby, alright? I just need you to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet - we don't want to get caught, do we?"

You shook your head softly, shamelessly checking out his chest under the LED lights, "No, daddy - I'll be quiet."

His right hand caught your chin, bringing your gaze back to his with a knowing smirk, "Good girl."

With that, your fate was sealed with the tangling of limbs, breathless sighs of names, and muffled moans of pleasure.

It wasn't until the next morning that you realized the repercussions of your shared decision, waking up to an empty bed and a wall of texts waiting on your phone that sent chills down your spine.

My Loves - GC Min [Cat Daddy]🐈: Meeting at 3Racha + Artist dorm tonight Sun-Bok ☀️: Yep! Binnie Baby 💪🏻: 👍🏻 My Artist 💌: This'll be fun 🙄 Hannie Jisungie 💘: Do we have to?? I kinda had plans.. Bubs [SeungMongMong] 💕: Han. Read the room. Baby Bread 🍞❣️: 😭😭😭

Judging from the lack of reply from a certain leader, you already knew what the meeting was going to be about.

Wonderful.

"Do you know why we're gathered here today?"

You wanted to coo at how cute Felix's 'domineering' act was, but you chose to refrain as you sat next to Chris in chairs borrowed from the dining room.

"Um... No?"

Minho clicked his tongue, sharp eyes narrowing in an expression you were all too familiar with, "Are you sure about that, Kitten?"

Pressing your lips into a firm line, you immediately knew that playing innocent was not in your favor.

"Chan?" He now challenged the eldest, the fire in his eyes unwavering.

The black haired man timidly shook his head, not even daring to open his mouth - he was a terrible liar, and everyone knew that.

"Alright, so we're playing this game." Shrugging dismissively, he turned his attention to Hyunjin and gave him a nod.

Without missing a beat, Hyunjin took out his phone and swiped across the screen before putting it down on the coffee table for everyone to witness what would happen next.

You froze at the sound playing from Hyunjin's phone, eyes snapping to Chris as his feigned look of confusion fell to sheepish embarrassment.

Floating through the small speaker were your moans, his moans, and the faint thumping of the bed you had warned him about before the entire scenario started.

"You recorded us?!" Even though he tried to save face, the blush tinting his ears and cheeks was more than a dead giveaway that you'd been caught red handed.

"You fucked her when it wasn't even your turn!" Hyunjin argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You were supposed to be asleep!"

"First of all, I can stay up late as long as I want, and second of all, you two aren't the quietest of fucks in this house!"

"We share a wall and I slept through all of that?!" Jisung suddenly piped up, gesturing wildly to the phone on the table, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I sense we're missing the point here..." Jeongin mumbled, snatching Hyunjin's phone from the table to pause the tantalizing audio.

"Innie's right! The point is," Changbin pointed a finger at their leader, "you tricked my bunny into letting you hit!"

Seungmin scoffed, "Tricked is a strong accusation, your 'bunny' isn't as innocent as she seems, isn't that right, pup?"

As much as you wanted to speak up in defense of yourself, they were completely right; you were in the wrong, no matter how it started and how rewarding the act was, you had broken one of the rules explicitly set for comeback season.

"This isn't all sunshine's fault," Felix butted in, quieting the bickering happening around him, "but it isn't all Chan's fault either - they both did it, so they both need to be punished, right? That's what we normally do when rules are broken, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Minho purred, running a hand through Felix's blond hair in appreciation, "and lucky for you two, we already thought of a punishment."

A chill ran down your spine and you stiffened under his mischievous gaze, noticing Chris opening his mouth to speak from your peripheral but closed it once more.

He may have been their leader at work, but here they were all partners, and the eldest card was virtually useless.

Looking between the two of you, a smug smirk graced Minho's lips as he nodded, "No objections? Good." Turning his gaze to you, he nodded his head, "Clothes off, kitten."

Apparently, the agreed upon punishment must've been a pact for pure torture for you and Chris; the eldest remaining in the same dining chair he sat in during the meeting, wearing only his boxer briefs with his wrists tied behind his back as part of his personal punishment.

You, however, seemed to get the brunt of the arrangement, laid naked on a blanket spread out over the area rug, a few decorative pillows spread around in case you needed the extra support.

Chris wasn't allowed to touch you or himself, nor was he allowed to cum during any point of the punishment; whereas you were allowed to touch anyone but Chris, and you weren't allowed to cum while the remaining members used their designated day to fuck you out of schedule - just like their wise leader and boyfriend had done the night before.

After some thorough - and quite unfair - prep by Jisung that left your pussy covered in spit and glistening for all of the boys to pay witness, Jeongin shuffled his way between your legs.

"Hi, Noona."

You did your best not to giggle at how causal he was, despite being stark naked and fisting his dick for what was to come next. "Hi, Innie."

"I still think it isn't fair you let Channie Hyung break the rules like that," he pouted, shuffling closer to rub his tip against your awaiting folds, drawing a shivering breath from you in the process.

"I-I know, I'm so-rry!" The feeling of his cock sliding past your walls had your back arching slightly, a low moan floating past your lips as he steadily filled you to the hilt.

He groaned softly, hands anchoring at your hips as he began to thrust into you without abandon, eyes locked onto where you were connected as his tongue just barely poked between his lips.

Your peace of getting used to his fast pace was interrupted with a shadow being cast over your face, the sight of Changbin shuffling into view with his signature smirk curving his lips.

"You don't mind taking two at once, do you, bunny?" He hummed, tapping the head of his dick against your bottom lip for emphasis.

A pitiful whimper escaped you, eyebrows sloping as realization quickly dawned on you - if he was using your mouth, then that meant you wouldn't get to feel that delicious stretch you'd been craving for the past week, yet another punishment.

"C'mon, little bunny, open up for me."

Doing as you were told, you parted your lips to welcome his thick tip, dropping your jaw to accompany the rest of his thick length to slip into your mouth and press against the back of your throat.

He rocked his hips in an opposing rhythm to Jeongin's powerful thrusts, the force simply jolting you into Changbin's dick and helping him fuck your mouth in return.

Any sound you made was turned into vibrations that shot up his spine, while panted moans and grunted breaths flowed freely from them, mingling with the distant sounds of your other boyfriends pleasuring themselves on the side as they waited for their turn.

"Look at you taking Innie so well, gonna make him come, bunny? Make him fill that needy pussy of yours?" The third eldest goaded, his hand sliding down to grope at your breast, running his thumb over your budding nipple.

Jeongin grunted, head bowed with focus as he drove into you with one desire and one only - to come.

You tried to hum out a reply, nodding your head in hopes that it would get noticed through the bobbing of your head until an increase of speed had your eyes rolling in your head.

"I-I'm gonna come, Noona- Oh, fuck-"

Just as you were ready to feel the signature warmth filling you, the presence of him inside of you disappeared and your eyes shot open to see him jacking himself off above you. Within a few passes of his fist, ropes of cum decorated your stomach, starting just above your naval and ending near your breasts.

It was almost as if he could sense your disappointment as he shot you a cocky smirk, "Oh - did you want me to finish inside? Sorry, Noona, I got to pick since it was my turn."

With a tap to your cheek, Changbin brought your attention back to him, "Don't get too upset, you still have five more dicks to go, bunny."

He was right - your punishment was far from over, and with the needy flutters of your pussy, you knew the requirement of not coming would be an uphill battle.

So, with renowned vigor, you did your best to focus on giving the best head you could manage in this position, laving your tongue against the smooth skin of his dick while trying not to mind the saliva that trailed down your cheek.

In the meantime, Chris wasn't faring too well in his seat, his hard on straining in his boxer briefs and begging for some form of attention from anyone in the room - the subtle shifting doing next to nothing to satisfy the pressure he craved.

He watched as Hyunjin guided Seungmin's mouth up and down his cock, a hand tangled in the long golden tresses of the younger's hair while the other half of his attention was focused on slow makeout session Felix had drawn him into; plump lips working against the smaller pair in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful.

"IN-ah," Minho called out, almost looking completely unphased by the drag of Jisung's lips against the column of his neck if it weren't for the way his hands gripped his slim waist. "Why don't you make sure Hyung doesn't get too bored over there?"

Fuck.

Jeongin gave a dutiful nod as he crawled his way over to the eldest, fox-like eyes sparkling with a glee that made his stomach flip. "Channie Hyung."

"Jeongin."

He pouted at the use of his name, no glittering nickname or endearing title following, "Don't be like that! You know why we're doing this - you'd do the same if it was one of us!"

Of course, he was right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to save as much of his pride as he could, not with the way he could feel his sanity slipping as the two-toned blond settled between his spread legs.

"Alright, alright, 'm sorry," relaxing against the chair, he gave a small smile toward the youngest, "hi, baby boy."

Preening with happiness, Jeongin pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh that nearly had him jolting out of the chair, a delighted laugh floating past those daring lips.

"You know... You didn't have to try to keep it a secret," he hummed, planting another kiss higher up the smooth plane of skin, "there's nothing wrong with needing Noona sooner than us, unless..." Sharp eyes looked up at him, a dark glint sending a spark of electricity down the eldest's spine, "You wanted to see what would happen if we found out - is that it, Hyung?"

Chris opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a guttural groan escaping Changbin, pulling his attention toward the main event happening in the middle of the living room.

The buff man shivered, hissing sharply as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth, "Show Binnie, bunny."

You opened your mouth immediately, showing the mess of cum and saliva pooling your tongue.

"Good girl, go on and swallow."

Your puffy lips closed for a moment before parting again to show your now empty mouth, void of any remnants of his seed; as a reward, Changbin bent down and pressed his lips to your forehead.

Next in the rotation was Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin - taking on a position that seemed to be coordinated in advance; Seungmin taking post between your legs, Felix straddling your torso with his hands already groping your chest, while Hyunjin lingered beside you.

"Jeongin, did you really have to leave a mess behind?" Seungmin groaned as he dragged his thumb through a still wet line of cum, tapping Felix's cheek with his index.

Following his instincts, Felix turned his head and instantly took his thumb into his mouth, and you watched with lust fogged eyes as he sucked it clean.

"Don't act like you weren't going to do the same thing." The youngest deadpanned, shooting the singer a glare, "You're just mad I did it first."

Deciding to ignore that statement, the second youngest slipped his thumb from Felix's soft lips and brought it down toward your awaiting pussy, putting slight pressure on your neglected clit.

You jolted at the sudden touch, whining pitifully, "Minnie, please, don't tease me."

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands, bub."

Despite his snarky reply, you could feel the head of his dick nudge against your slick entrance, all the while Felix was happily enjoying his time with your breasts; gently kneading the mounds and tweaking your nipples with subtle pinches here and there.

"Come here, my angel." Hyunjin murmured softly, cupping the freckled blond's face before pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

You watched helplessly, forced to be a spectator of the pleasure happening around you; the show above you, the sounds of Jisung's unabashed whimpers from the couch, and the grunted gasps of Chris from whatever Jeongin and Changbin had resorted to doing to him.

When the duo pulled away, Felix leaned over to let a stream of spit drip onto his twitching cock and the valley of your boobs, the excitement palpable from the way he practically vibrated above you.

Without any further preparation, he pressed your breasts together to sandwich his cock and rocked his hips forward, a heavenly groan floating past his lips.

At the same time, Seungmin slipped past your walls with little resistance, sighing happily at the warmth of your pussy finally enveloping him.

Your hands found Felix's thighs, squeezing the flexed muscles as he fucked your breasts at a steady pace - meanwhile, Seungmin set his own rhythm of deep and hard thrusts, practically punching moans out of your throat with each slap of his thighs against the back of your own.

"Sunshine, you feel so good," Felix groaned, eyes flicking between your face and the way the pink head of his dick peeked out from between your boobs on each inward thrust.

"Of course she'd feel good," Seungmin scoffed, his hands gripping the backs of your knees for leverage, "the little slut was made for us, isn't that right, pup?"

You preened at his words, tossing your head back with an unabashed moan.

"So shameless, my muse," Hyunjin smirked, watching you lovingly as he lazily fisted his spit-slicked cock. "You love being used like this by us - but, then again, we love getting to use you, too."

Whining up at him, your dazed eyes glanced down at his length and your lips parted - an offering.

"Nuh uh, beauty, I'm waiting for that sweet pussy of yours."

The clench your walls gave earned you a moan from the singer inside of you, his grip on your legs tightening slightly, "Fuck, stop it, pup - feels too fucking good."

Felix whined, tossing his head back with a shivering breath, "W-What's she feel like, Minnie?"

"Wet, warm, t-tight," a low grunt fell from his lips, "I can tell she's getting close - you know, when her pussy f-flutters-"

"-Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- I'm close." The freckled boy's thrusts quickly began to falter, dissolving into him shallowly humping your breasts.

Hyunjin watched as both boys chased their orgasms, your breathless moans floating through the air like a song while your nails scratched angry red lines down Felix's slim thighs.

"A-Ah, fuck, f-fuck-" Seungmin was the first to topple over the edge, pulling out just as he began to come, the hot release adding to the partially dried mess left behind from his boyfriend before.

With a shaky rut of his hips, Felix came with a short cry of your name, his cum painting your neck and mixing with the mess of saliva and precum in your cleavage.

Dropping your legs unceremoniously, Seungmin shuffled from between your legs to sit breathlessly at your side; Felix managing to shakily slide himself off of your torso and into the former's arms.

"Oh, you poor beauty," Hyunjin cooed, taking in your utterly disheveled form as he filled in the newly freed space, "they made you so dirty, didn't they?"

You jolted at the feeling of his hand ghosting your side, your abdomen twisting so hard you nearly folded over.

"H-Hyune, can I come this time? Please, please, I-I need to, i-it's too much!"

"You're begging the wrong person, my muse." He used his right index to drag through the mess at your sternum and down to the cum coating your stomach, "I can't help you, here." Popping his finger into his mouth, a shivering breath ran through his body, eyelids fluttering before focusing his heated stare back onto you, "Don't worry, I'll be fast - two more after me and you'll be done."

Luckily for you, your orgasm had began to subside and you were barely affected by the graze of his fingertips down your hips and thighs, caressing your skin and massaging the tense muscles as he went.

Chris watched as Hyunjin slipped inside of you with little to no resistance, the sight of your cum stained body arching off of the floor making him strain against the rope keeping his hands behind his back.

"Wish that was you, huh?" Changbin taunted low in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before lightly massaging away the tenseness in his biceps, "Look at her, five dicks in and she's still taking everything we give her."

"Fuck."

Hyunjin had your legs in the air, calves resting against his right shoulder to make the squeeze even tighter, making each drag of his cock that much more devilish for you.

That should be him making you moan like that, he should be the one feeling the squeeze of your pussy around his dick, not the stupid confines of his underwear.

He felt like he was going crazy, and it didn't help with Jeongin's intermittent touches to his restrained bulge that kept him hyper aware of everything happening in front of him.

Your moans grew in pitch, one hand gripping onto the artist's forearm while the other gripped a decorative pillow by your head for further support.

"Oh, god - I c-can't- I-"

"Hold it, kitten." Minho spoke up from his position on the couch, "You have two more to go for your punishment - you don't want to make it worse, do you?"

"N-No, but- Ah!" Your train of thought escaped you as the lithe dancer slightly leaned forward, pushing your legs closer to your torso and brushing against your g-spot in an entirely new angle that had you seeing stars.

"You can do it, my love," Hyunjin panted breathlessly, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glisten on his skin, "g-gonna fill you up for doing such a good job for us, okay?"

There weren't any words you could find to somehow put together a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded with hiccuped breaths - doing your best not to focus on the burning desire in your abdomen.

It only took a few more strokes until he stilled with a gasp, broken moans happening in time with the twitching of his length, filling your cunt with every last drop of his load.

However, the turnaround this time was faster than you'd expected; Hyunjin pulling out with a still throbbing dick, while the sound of scrambling reached your ears before a new presence filled the void.

"Jagi."

Your heart clenched, blinking up at the man with a desperate gaze, "Sungie, please - I-I can't take anymore."

You were overly aware of the warm sensation of Hyunjin's cum dripping down the curve of your ass and undoubtedly staining the blanket beneath you, and you were beginning to feel tacky from the mix of cum and spit drying on your skin.

"I know, I know, but you're so close, Jagi - you can do it for us, right? Take your punishment like a good girl?"

The feeling of him pushing your legs up and out had you sobbing out a breath, everything from your waist down sore and crying for a break.

Jisung rubbed the leaky tip of his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as more cum seemed to endlessly dribble out of you, "Shit, he really filled you, hm?"

Then, just as his boyfriends before, he angled his hips and sunk into your sensitive cunt, your moans mixing together in a harmony.

"S-So good - god, I wish I could stay in this pussy." He groaned, leaning forward to hover over you - keeping your legs hooked on the outside of his arms - before shallowly thrusting into you.

The sloppy sounds of skin against skin and the mixture of cum and your arousal filled the living room as everyone watched on.

"Fuck... I wanna go again," Felix whined, doe eyes trained on where you and Jisung were connected.

Seungmin laughed, squeezing his arms around him, "Yeah? I bet Chan wishes he could go at all."

This comment brought each of their attentions to the man in mention, and the sight was one to be memorized for the time to come.

A light sheen of sweat shined across his forehead and chest, shallow breaths expanding his torso and exposing the slight definition of abs with each exhale, and thick thighs spread to display the bulge stretching the light grey fabric of his boxer briefs - a glaringly obvious stain of precum in the form of dark grey spread around the head of his hidden cock and along the length, defining it more.

"Holy shit, Chan - you're turned on this much?" Hyunjin took in the view with amused eyes, though the faint swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip hadn't gone unnoticed.

The eldest whined, an embarrassed blush adding to the flush of arousal on his face, "It doesn't help that these two," he nodded his head between Jeongin and Changbin, "have been over here touching me the whole time, and- fuck, watching everyone take turns with her, how could I not get turned on?"

"Channie Hyung, you look like you're one breeze away from coming." Jeongin giggled as he pressed his index finger against the outline of his tip, pulling it away to see a faint string of precum follow suit.

"He shouldn't." Minho interjected, watching the small group from the couch, "And you better not make him come either, unless you'd like to be added to the punishment list, too."

Another signature whine fell from Felix as he broke his focused stare to look at the black haired man, "Can we at least see him? Please, Hyung?"

There was a moment of silence - well, as silent as it could be with your and Jisung's moans and whimpers still dancing through the air - before he nodded his head.

"Fine, go ahead."

It definitely wasn't a three person job, but when Felix sprung into action with Jeongin, Seungmin wasn't about to be left out of the reveal - so, with three sets of hands and the help of Chris lifting his hips, they managed to toss away his one and only clothing item.

"Holy fuck, thank you," he groaned, his head falling back and lightly knocking against the backrest of the chair; a wave of goosebumps decorating his skin at the temperature shift and change in pressure.

The sudden sound of Jisung cursing called their attention like a moth to a flame, eyes snapping to see the rapper frantically fucking into you with reckless abandon.

Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you gripped his hair, "Please, please, please, I-I can't- j-just come already, Sungie!"

It wasn't clear if it was the tug on his scalp or your command that had him coming, but he was suddenly shaking above you with breathless whines, fucking his load into you with hard, shallow ruts.

He dipped his head to catch your lips in a less than coordinated kiss, a dazed smile finding its way to his face, "Last one, Jagi."

Sniffling up at him, a harsh realization hit you like a freight train - Minho was the last one to go.

Minho, the one who enjoyed seeing you at your wits end, wearing you down until you were nothing but his brainless little kitten - the one who laughed in the face of your pleas and begs, the one who would catch your tears onto his fingers and make you choke on the same digits.

As Jisung slipped away to join the rest of the spectators, you turned your head to see Minho unmoving from his seat, staring at you with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Hands and knees, kitten."

You were shocked to find out that you still had power left in you to lift your body from the floor, much less manage to turn yourself onto your aching legs before dipping into an arch you'd perfected in your time with them - ignoring the feeling of now cold cum meeting the fluffy warmth of the blanket where you once laid.

It wasn't long until you felt a large hand grip the swell of your ass before landing a hard slap against the cheek making you scream out a moan.

"What did we learn?" He hummed nonchalantly, spreading your ass cheeks to see the newest mess of cum ooze toward your clit.

"I-I won't k-keep secrets," you sobbed, the pulse of your pussy making your toes curl, "if s-someone wants to skip ahead, w-we make sure everyone knows - P-Please, Min, I'm sorry!"

The only sign of acknowledgment he gave you was a clipped hum, sliding one hand to the base of your spine while the other wrapped around his dick, pumping once and tracing your messy cunt.

"Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, please, I've been good - I-I didn't come while the others fucked me, I-I let them use me, please let me come, Min!" Hiccuping a sob, your hands fisted the blanket as fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, "Please, please, please, it hurts - I can't keep holding it!"

The stretch of his dick past your sensitive walls had your mouth falling open in a silent moan, eyes rolling as your veins flowed with molten lava - overstimulation beginning to set in.

"Okay, kitten, you can come," he murmured softly, his hand sliding up your slightly sweaty back before wrapping around your neck, his body eclipsing yours as his lips hovered just above your ear, "but only when I say so."

He dragged his hips back before delivering a hard thrust, forcing a choked gasp past your lips as he began to practically fuck you through the floor - broken moans and cries flowing like water in a stream.

"Remember this the next time you decide to bend the rules," hissing in your ear, his hand tightened around your neck ever so slightly, "doesn't matter if its Yongbokkie's charms, Hannie's begs, Jeongin's sugar coated promises - none of them, if you try lying to cover for them, this is what'll happen."

"Minho, it wasn't all her fault." Chris gritted, watching the way you writhed in the second eldest's hold - his dick twitching painfully for any type of relief.

Minho scoffed out a laugh, finally directly regarding him ever since the entire punishment started, "When did I ever say it was, Chan?"

Without so much as a stutter in his rhythm, he sat up onto his knees, bringing your body with his and putting you on full display for the rest of your partners.

"This is a lesson to you, too; don't try to keep things from us - if you want to fuck our girl, you can fuck her." His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, tilting your head in their direction, "She obviously loves it, so why put yourself through the stress of making it a secret? You can see her just like this without keeping her orgasm from her, isn't that right, kitten?"

You mindlessly nodded as best as you could, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth as you tried your best to keep your focus on the man restrained in the chair and not on the six other pairs of eyes taking you in.

"Words, kitten."

"Y-Yes, Sir!" You mewled, your hands holding tight to his arm to keep yourself tethered to your own body.

"Exactly, now, say sorry."

Chris bristled, "Minho, that's-"

"Felix."

On command, the boys occupying the space near Chris's legs moved to allowed Felix between them; Jeongin holding onto one thigh while Hyunjin held onto the other to further restrain him.

The second Felix's soft hands wrapped around the base of his dick, he had to bite his lip to silence the pure moan of pleasure that wanted to rise out of him - but, the instant his lips pressed against a vein, he nearly cried.

"Say sorry, kitten," Minho whispered in your ear, breaking through the fog that clouded your brain, "say sorry then you can come."

A sob wracked through your body as you nodded, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Innie and Binnie. I'm sorry L-Lix, Minnie, a-and Hyune. I-I'm sorry S-Sungie," nearly choking on your breath, you cried, "a-and I'm sorry Min, I'm so sorry, sir!"

He hummed, a smirk on his lips, "You're missing an apology, kitten."

The names replayed in your head like a tape on rewind, your brain desperately searching for who you might have missed until it finally clicked.

"C-Channie!"

The call of his name brought his eyes to yours, breathless groans escaping him as Felix licked at him as if he were a popsicle on a hot summer day.

You sniffled, blown out pupils swimming in the sea of your watery eyes, "I-I'm so sorry, Channie - I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

His heart clenched in time with his abdomen, hips canting as best they could with Hyunjin and Jeongin keeping him still. "I'm sorry, princess, you hear me? Fuck- I'm so sorry, baby."

"Good kitten," Minho grunted, his free hand wrapping around your hip to the apex of your thighs, his skilled fingers finding your clit easily, "now, come for us."

There wasn't a singular word to describe the sensations that shot through your veins; euphoria, relief, satisfaction, all you could feel was the wave of your orgasm crashing around you and drowning you in the muffled sounds of your own screams.

It didn't take long for Chris to fall victim to the sinful kitten licks of Felix's tongue, not when he had the view of you and Minho falling apart before his eyes.

"Oh fuck, f-fuck!"

Minho felt you slump in his arms, shallow breaths wracking your body through soft whimpers and hiccups. "You're alright, Jagiya, I've got you."

You slurred out soft words he couldn't catch, though the faintest "Sorry" caught his ear through the jumbled mess.

"No more of that, kitten, okay? I forgive you - We forgive you, just take some deep breaths with me, hm?"

Changbin appeared in front of you with two wet washcloths, and a t-shirt most likely from his closet, "Hey, bunny, it's Binnie - I'm gonna clean you off, okay?"

You hummed softly and he got to work wiping away the dried cum and spit that stained your skin, using the second cloth to get whatever remnants he missed before handing it off to Minho who cleaned away the cum covering your pussy.

Meanwhile, Felix and Jeongin were having a field day of cleaning up the cum that decorated Chris's skin from his own orgasm; Hyunjin lazily running his hands through Chris's hair while Seungmin untied his wrists.

"Hyung," Seungmin prodded, garnering Chris's tired, but attentive gaze, "we know you mean well, and you don't like imposing over us, or whatever," he took a short breath, fighting through the shyness, "but if you need something then say so - it's not like we haven't adjusted our schedules before."

"Yeah, Chan - we're not gonna fault you if you need your time sooner than us, we do it all the time." Hyunjin chimed in, playing with a small curl at the front of his head.

"Some of us more than others."

"You know, I can hear you," Felix deadpanned, looking up at the three of them while licking his lips, "and it's not like I don't offer sharing my time!"

Jeongin laughed, "I don't think they meant it as a bad thing, Lix, you're just the one who uses your time the most, even if you share it."

"Which is, again, not a bad thing," Jisung piped up with a chuckle, walking toward the group with a washcloth and a bottle of water for the eldest, "I think it's a tie between me and you, honestly."

Through the small talk and pre-shower wipe downs - some of the boys dispersing to shower while others searched for snacks - Chris noticed Minho bundling up the soiled blanket while Changbin cradled your sleeping form in his arms on the couch, murmuring soft words he wasn't able to catch.

"She's okay," Minho hummed, catching Chris's soft gaze, "we're going to let her rest for a minute, then when she wakes up Changbin's going to make sure she uses the bathroom before anything else."

He nodded understandingly, stretching his arms and rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists.

"You want to cuddle with her."

Chris jolted, eyes widening, "What? I didn't say-"

"You don't have to say it, you do it all the time after sex, Chan," he rolled his eyes, a loving smirk playing at his lips, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just..." Sighing, Minho ventured over to the chair he still sat in, "Stop being shy about needing love, okay? This isn't about some stupid rule or 'fuck' schedule - you need to know that there isn't any shame in putting your needs first. You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need, Hyung."

Planting a quick kiss on his lips, Minho disappeared down the hall toward the laundry room, leaving Chris to settle with his words.

Nodding softly to himself, he made his way toward Changbin and swapped roles quietly, accepting a temple kiss from his fellow rapper before he headed into the kitchen to join whoever occupied the space.

Laying across the couch, Chris let you lay partially on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your back while he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

Stirring slightly, you cracked an eye open and a tired smile twitched your lips, "Mm... I love you."

You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need.

He smiled at Minho's words, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, watching as you drifted back to sleep.

"I love you too, baby."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[thewidowsledger]

Agent

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Undercover Agent!Natasha Romanoff x Mob boss!Female Reader

Word count: 693

Tags | Warnings: None, is the sexual tension in the room with us (?)

Author's Note: This is not a fic, more like a drabble👉👈 I hate how so many good ideas are running in my mind when I am heart broken, so just let me spoil y'all as long as I can :))

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"Go home, get some rest."

Natasha lingers by the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around the room, and her clasped hands fidget behind her back.

"Nat." You called.

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe and stealing a glance out the window.

"Natasha." You called again, much firmer this time.

Ah, she's in shit now. She knows damn well she's in deep trouble when she hears her full name being used especially by you. "Sorry, boss, guess I'm…distracted."

"That much is obvious." You offer a brief smile from your desk, but it fades just as quickly. "What's wrong, Natasha?"

Oh well, the list goes on and on. Where to begin? First, she's an undercover agent walking a tightrope, knowing her bosses are ready to pull the plug on the operation. Second, she's not a very good agent, since she became too attached to her target, the woman she's been guarding for six months. Lastly, she's an agent, and she's wondering if she should be.

Not that the answer is to join organised crime, either. But she's probably not as…objective as she used to be.

"I'm not sure about tomorrow," she finally admits. She doesn't like lying to you.

"What makes you unsure?"

Tomorrow looms large. The brass is forcing her hand. Natasha already delayed delivering you to them three times, and tomorrow, in the middle of your biggest land trade in years, her fellow agents are going to storm the place. There will be chaos, and you're likely to get caught in the crossfire. And despite her divided loyalties, she knows she'll put her life on the line to protect you. Whether they will question her credibility if she's a traitor or not.

Well all because she's just the agent who fell for her target—the Romeo of the operation. She just hopes that the story doesn't end in tragedy.

"Are we sure the meeting place is secured?"

"You went with Bucky to secure it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"You're nervous," you interrupt smoothly. Your smile is as polished as your satin night dress and the faint, fabricated English accent you wear like armor. Natasha knows it's a front—like her own.

"Can't help it," she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Your heels click on the floor. The sound haunts her in her dreams.

"I know you can't." You almost sound like you're soothing her. "But try not to let it cloud your judgement."

She nods, brushing a speck off her jacket. It's the best she's ever dressed in her life, all thanks to you. Steve loves to tease her about it, especially the set of black shirt she's never ran out.

You blink as she catches your hand before you can pull away from her completely. "Natasha."

"You," she begins, breaking the strict rule against using names—real or fake—in the office. But you had told her your name yourself, and it's been etched into her mind ever since, like a treasure on a pedestal. "Just…think about tomorrow again."

She meets your gaze, both faces unreadable. Natasha's mastery of concealing emotions comes from years of training, while yours seems effortless. "You're concerned about me?"

She inhales, squeezing your hand tighter. Finally free to tell the truth, she says, "your safety is my top priority."

Something changes in those eyes of yours, but she can't quite tell what it is.

Natasha blinks as you lean in, pressing a light yet deliberate kiss to her cheek. She fights to keep her composure, knowing that you, the boss, rarely shows affection—mercy even less so. But her focus is entirely on calming the storm of butterflies in her stomach.

Oh idiot Romeo, indeed.

You lock eyes with her, your hand steady on her cheek. "We'll be fine," you say with unwavering confidence.

She holds your gaze, resisting the urge to hope for another kiss. Slowly, she lets go of your hand. "If you say so, boss."

You arch a brow. "Back to boss, is it?"

She felt a smirk but more like a smile tug at her lips. "Would you rather I call you something else?"

"Hm, mommy sounds good or perhaps mistress..." A sly smirk crept in your face. Then your hand glides down her chest, skimming over her leather jacket until it rests on the concealed weapon at her belt.

"You tell me, agent."

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?���

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[hellisharchive]

The Most Divine

➤ Drabbles of how Lucifer and Adam would fight over gender neutral reader!

➤ 18+, NSFW

♡...... LUCIFER would take notice of you immediately in the Hotel, from your voice to your body to your eyes, you were beautiful in every sense of the word. He treated you like royalty, like you were the best thing he could have found ever in all his billions of years of existence. He never made any moves on you though, the mental scars from Lillith leaving him still fresh in his mind and heart. You two were both really good friends though and he wouldn't trade that for the world.

♡...... ADAM would take notice of you during your first year in Hell as you were out during extermination day. He hates sinners with his very being due to a certain fallen angel, but something about you enamored him. He managed to find you alone and decides to take his chance. He hit on you and he ended up throughly fucking you in exchange for being spared this year.

♡...... LUCIFER makes sure you're ok after extermination day, you tell him that you ran into Adam and that he spared you, but not the true reason why. It made Lucifer incredibly angry as he knew you were lying, but played it off as he didn't want to be too overbearing and controlling. He was just concerned for you as Adam wasn't the best guy, regardless if he spared you or not

♡...... ADAM decides to watch you from heaven, keeping it a secret from Lute as she would surely scold him and never let him live another day without her disproving self. But seeing you talk and laugh with Lucifer made his blood boil. How dare you move onto that bastard after you just got fucked by the original dick? He didn't expect his attraction to you grow this bad, but it every passing moment when he didn't have important shit do, he watched you and Lucifer be all buddy-buddy.

♡...... LUCIFER would finally confront you about Adam, feeling jealous that he would be so much better in bed than that man. He knew he would treat you right. He watched as you stared up at the sky, knowing you were missing that angel for some odd reason. You admitted it right away, the guilt eating away so badly it was hard to contain. You did miss him despite him really being a terrible person, you did miss him. He shushed you and told you it was ok and that he wasn't mad, he was just concerned if he hurt you in anyway.

♡...... ADAM would reach his breaking point when he sees Lucifer tllt your chin up and say that he would always be there for you. Always make you feel better and always make you feel loved. He couldn't take it. Watching the scene play out with a hug, you two parted ways. Watching and waiting until Heaven's mistake was alone, the first man opened up a portal to Lucifer lounging on his couch on his phone when he looked up, not surprised at the sight before him.

♡...... "Well if it isn't the first man. Been a while since Eden? How've been? Fucking my people you swore to kill every year?"

♡...... "Shut the hell up! You stole Lillith from me. You stole Eve from me. You will NOT steal them from me!"

♡...... LUCIFER stood up then, despite his shorter stature, he walked right up to Adam with a smirk. He wasn't going to back down. He wasn't scared of this asshole. Even if he was scared to let you in, he still loved you very much and didn't want you wasting your time here in Hell with this man.

♡...... ADAM simply looked down at him, letting his anger be very known to the fallen angel. The key word is fallen. He was a traitor to everything good, and Adam would show you everything good and more if you let him instead of Lucifer.

♡...... "You think they were screaming your name? Last night, we were going so hard they cummed multiple times on my face just from my tounge" It was a lie, you both never had any sex at all, but he wanted Adam to feel intimated.

♡...... "That's a fucking lie. I've been watching them and you laugh and joke but never fuck. At least I actually fucked them unlike your coward ass. How's Lillith by the way? She really seems to love being with you, prick"

♡...... LUCIFER was going to quip back as the snide about his ex-wife especially upset him, but the door opened and you walked in sleepily and asked what was going on while rubbing your eye. Every one of you froze as the situation was becoming apparent to you as you woke up. He watched as you started to panic, knowing that this situation got too out of hand. You rushed up and demanded what was going on in a half sleep state. He was too angry to fully appreciate how adorable you were like that.

♡...... ADAM didn't feel threatened by your prescence at all, in fact, this was going to work in his favor. Smirking, he sauntered up behind your smaller form and wrapped his hands around your shoulders, leaning down and asking in a soft voice if Lucifer ever fucked you. You said no and shook your head. He could tell by the fact that you were shaking that you were very anxious yet thrilled at what was happening. He knew you liked Lucifer, he was just too much of a pussy to take what he wants. It's ok though, more for him.

♡...... LUCIFER hated how Adam defaulted to sex instead of what a real relationship is and its far more than lust. It was always being there for them, helping them, ensuring they were safe and loved. Not someone who fucked them and stalked them. But the ruler of Hell would play his game. Walking closer to your caged in self, he got right up in front of your face with a certain type of smirk you've never seen him wear before. However, his attention was turned above your head to Adam as the taller angel rested his head on top of yours.

♡...... "What's big shot doing now huh?"

♡...... "How about this? We both fuck them at the same time and see which one of us they like better"

♡...... "Deal"

[dendroseelie]

when zhongli returned home after an uneventful day at the wangshen funeral parlour, he realised that it was eerily quiet - unlike the way it would be when he'd often find you in bed reading. this quietness was rather stifling, rather dead.

he had undone his laced boots in a hurry, a sliver of worry slithering in.

“y/n?” he had called out, voice tentative but dripping with love. “are you home, darling?”

he hadn't received a response but he soon found you curled up into a ball in bed as he waltzed further into his home. the air is still, even as zhongli sinks into bed beside you, his fingers trailing on your body, reaching out, coaxing you into his arms. that is when the silence shatters — a soft sniffle, one that could easily be missed but for zhongli, it might as well have echoed between liyue’s highest peaks.

“oh my darling,” he whispers, his arms tugging you into his chest. the tenderness in his voice, the gentleness in his fingers finally breaks the dams you had been holding back the whole day and you finally cry.

zhongli’s heart clenches painfully. he has been alive for many milennia, seen things that may leave even archons haunted but he fears nothing hurts him more than seeing you in pain.

“are you alright, y/n? do you wish to speak about it?”

you incoherently mumble your dissent into his chest, voice wet and stuffy.

“alright,” zhongli simply agrees.

for a long time, the two of you stay there in the sanctity of your shared bed. your sniffles soon die out and you lay there, breaths still heavy, in your lover’s arms.

zhongli thinks to himself that this was the only power he needed, even if he is stripped off his elemental blessings, the power to comfort you - it is something he would never trade.

“my beloved…” zhongli rumbles into the top of your head. his long fingers massage the nape of your neck.

you melt under his touch, as if the knot you had been carrying in your chest the whole day finally falls loose. you feel the warm tendrils of sleep begin to reach out.

“sorry,” you begin. “i just had a really awful day.”

you can feel his lips curve into a soft smile before they press into your forehead. “i see not why you're apologizing to me.”

“you came home and then you had to…deal with all of this.”

his fingers don't stop their ministrations, and the just-right pressure against your scalp only makes your eyes flutter. “and? are you not mine to care for?”

“still…”

zhongli takes a moment to reach for your palm. he brings it up to his mouth before his lips press a reverent kiss on your ring clad finger. “did we not vow to love, cherish and care for each other, my beloved?”

“we did.”

he hums. “exactly. and who is morax if not a man of his words? a contract is a contract after all. a vow is a vow and i intend to keep it till my last breath.”

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

After all this time… (Night One.)

A/N: At the time of posting this, most people had voted that this be released in parts, and I’m impatient, so I’ll be releasing these in a few parts separated by the days of the story! As always, please drop any suggestions in the replies or my asks if there’s anything you’d like to see 😊

Synopsis: You come home with your childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy during your break at college, and instead of going to your own house, you stay at theirs with them and their mother… who you’ve had a huge crush on since before you can remember. As the visit goes on, you find it more and more torturous with your forced proximity and how she only seems to get more beautiful as the years pass.

Warnings: Nothing crazy this chapter, allusions to masturbation, drinking, pet names, legal age gap, strict!wanda.

Pairing: Mom!Wanda x Student!Reader (fem)

…………………………………………………………………………

As the holiday break approached, you felt a surge of excitement and a slight nervousness. You had been looking forward to this moment for months- after a long semester at college, you were finally heading home. Well, you weren’t going back to your own house. Your parents were spending their holidays traveling out of the country and exploring, so instead, you were going to stay with her childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy, at their home just five minutes away from the house you grew up in.

The twins' mom, Wanda Maximoff, had always been like a second mother to you. Growing up, she spent countless afternoons in their cozy home, playing games, doing homework, and watching sitcoms with the three of you. She was especially kind to you out of all the boys’ friends, and you suspected she’d always wanted a few more girls in her life, which was crowded by the masculine energies of Vision, Billy, and Tommy. She’d stay up with you after the boys went to bed, tired from their hours of roughhousing, and would spend those extra hours teaching you how to braid your hair by doing yours and then allowing you to try on her long, shiny red hair. Their home became your second house, their door always open to you.

Now, though, you were anxious on your train ride home to the woman and your childhood best friends. You’d stayed friends with the older woman on socials once you were allowed to get them in high school, keeping tabs on the woman who was aging impossibly beautifully as you approached your senior year of college. You constantly traded reels that reminded you of each other, and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if she picked up on the undertones of a few of the complimentary posts the two of you often exchanged.

There was no denying the crush you’d developed on the older woman, but you felt ridiculous even questioning if she’d maybe felt the same. You let yourself imagine it on occasion, though, especially in the past two years because of her separation from her ex-husband and the boys’ father, Vision. None of the 3 of them really kept in touch with the man due to the nature of their separation- he had somehow decided to cheat on the woman you now had a major crush on, a fact that confused you to no end, given her absolute beauty, intelligence, and kindness.

Your heart raced now as you spotted the twins waiting for you at the train station. They greeted you with wide smiles and tight hugs, their familiar laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. As they drove back to the Maximoff house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging and anticipation for the festive days ahead.

Despite the excitement, you couldn't shake off the nerves fluttering in her stomach. It had been years since you last saw Ms. Maximoff in person, and you worried about how much things might have changed. Would she still have that soft spot for you beyond your messages now that you were all grown up? Would you even be able to face her with this crushing admiration you’d developed as she grew more gorgeous with time? As they pulled into the driveway, you took a deep breath to steady yourself and clear your mind of the swirling questions.

The twins seemed to sense her anxiety. "Don't worry, Y/N," Billy said with a reassuring smile. "Mom's been looking forward to seeing you. She talks about you all the time."

Tommy chimed in, "Yeah, it's like you never left. She's got your favorite cookies baking right now." Their words helped, but your heart still pounded as they walked up to the door. When Ms. Maximoff opened it, her warm smile and open arms melted away half of your fears. In that moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as your cheek pressed into her chest and your front against her own relieve you of the question of if her admiration for you had faded over the years. But this doesn’t shake the anxiety coursing through your veins. If anything, it feeds it, making you almost certain that this crush you had on her would be crippling over the week you’d be spending in her home.

As she pulled away, moving her tight grip to wrap around your elbows and hold you out to examine your matured face, her scent enveloped you, sending you flying straight into an almost drunken state.

Her fawn-like eyes meet your own as she lets out a deep sigh, speaking to you aloud for the first time in nearly three years. “Y/N, honey, you’ve grown up so much! Even prettier than the last time I saw you, too.” You’re searching desperately for a response to force out in our wavering voice when one of the boys speaks from behind you.

“Hey mom, nice to see you too!” One of the twins speaks from behind you- but from the sarcasm the comment is laced with, you’re sure it’s Billy. “Watch your tone, little man, I’m not against sending you to sit on the steps like before. I see you boys constantly, I miss my girl!” Wanda responds quickly, knowing just how to get the boy to remember his childlike fear of his mother’s discipline. You duck your head down in an attempt to cover up your deep blush at the title giggle at the antics and Wanda invites you to come into the house.

As you step into the Maximoff home, the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, instantly bringing back a flood of childhood memories. The warm, cozy atmosphere makes you feel a bit more at ease, and Wanda couldn't help but smile at the relaxation that graces your face.

The twins, eager to catch up, quickly grabbed their bags and headed upstairs to put their stuff away. This left you alone with Ms. Maximoff, who enveloped her in another heartfelt hug. "It's so good to see you, hon," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "’Ive missed having you around here." She wraps one hand ever-so-gently around the bottom of your chin to caress your jaw, and you naturally lean into her touch. When you finally remember to respond, you say “I’ve missed it here so much, Ms. Maximoff. Thank you so much again for having me, it means more than you could know that you’re still so welcoming. This really does feel like a second home to me.” Wanda slightly tilts her head and allows her eyes to linger on you one last second before bringing her hand away and grabbing your bags out of your hand.

It was then that you looked out into the living room you’d spent so many hours in with the red-haired woman, quietly bonding in your senior year of high school while the boys slept before their big games when you slept over in preparation. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Much more you now.” You note aloud as you notice the changes to furniture and decor she’s made, assumingly since her divorce, but more importantly noticing the stools you two used to sit on while she taught you all sorts of crafts and skills, and how they seemed to be the only remaining parts of the original room that kept their place in the center of the house.

You feel your nerves finally start to dissipate as the boys came down and they all moved to the kitchen once Ms. Maximoff dropped your bags in the guest room next to her own. You help the boys’ mom set out the cookies and make some tea while you all chat about everything from your college experiences to fond memories of your shared childhood adventures. Ms. Maximoff’s kind eyes and attentive listening made you feel more at home than ever before.

As the evening wound down, the boys headed upstairs to their childhood rooms, eager to pick out a few cherished items to bring back to school. They rummaged through old clothes and coats for the upcoming winter season, laughing and reminiscing about their younger days.

Meanwhile, you stayed downstairs with their mom to help clean up. You worked side by side in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of dinner. The familiar routine brought a comforting sense of normalcy, something you could almost see yourself doing every night with the woman. You remind yourself to snap right the fuck out of that quickly. As you washed dishes and put away leftovers, you began to catch up, just like you used to.

You talked about everything—college life, future plans, and the little things that made up your daily lives. Your conversation was filled with warmth and intense attentiveness from the older woman, a testament to the bond you had always shared. While you were sure now that she hadn’t grown to be less fond of you in the couple of years you’d spent apart, there was certainly something different about the way she looked at you now. Her gaze seemed more heavy now, lingering longer and often wandering a bit, the ventures so slight you thought you were imagining them.

“Remind me again how old you are now, honey?” Wanda speaks out as she dries her hands and grabs a wine glass for herself. “I’m 22 now, Ms. Maximoff.” She grabs another glass at the end of your sentence. “Well then, call me Wanda, sweetheart! You’re a big girl now, yeah?” she insists as she turns around to face you again with two bottles of wine in her hand, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. “Which one?” She straightens her elbows out for you to read the labels, and you’re grateful for the distraction from your reddened cheeks she provides you with.

“Um…… this one, on the left.” You point to a sauvignon blanc randomly, not too knowledgeable about wine. “Good choice.” She winks and brings the glasses, a corkscrew, and the bottle and you two make your way to the family room. The room was slightly dark now, lit only by a few warm-toned decorative lamps sprinkled throughout the room.

You take a seat on one of the remaining stools from your fond childhood memories with the woman, adjacent from the cushion Wanda takes her seat on, her legs curled with her heels under herself while she rests on the armrest of the sofa and leans her side into it. Her sweater falls off of her shoulder, exposing her collarbone as she lets her hair down from the clip it was in.

You watch in awe as the long scarlet waves cascade down in such a fluid movement around her shoulders, bringing your hand to your mouth to bite down on your index fingernail to keep from letting out the sigh that was now crawling up your throat at the sight.

However, it becomes so much more impossible to restrain yourself when the older woman leans forward and grips your wrist harshly, bringing your hand back down to your lap, and then swiping the proof of your former actions off of your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb.

“You really shouldn’t mess up your nails like that, honey. Nasty habit.” Her voice came out lower and with a bit more of a rasp than usual, the late hour of the night affecting her tone. “Sorry, Ms. Maximoff.” You try to chuckle it off, dumbfounded by her simple gestures. “Hey, what did I say? Call me Wanda.” She gives you a stern look, similar to the one she gave Billy when he quipped at her in the doorway of the home upon your arrival.

“Right. I’m sorry, Wanda.” You draw out the delivery of her name, and the way the green of her eyes is overcome by her growing pupils sends goosebumps all through your skin and a shiver down your spine. “Good girl.” Before either of you could react to what she’d just said, she followed her praise up with a simple question, “Well, we can’t let this go to waste can we?” Gesturing to the bottle of wine, you giggle and shake your head.

You watch a bit too closely as she uncorks and pours out two glasses of the wine, your eyes tracing each movement of her slender fingers as if you were trying to save them in your mind in perfect detail. She hands you a glass and goes back to her reclined pose before swirling the liquid in her own glass and taking a sip. You again pay intense attention to the way her defined jaw appears impossibly sharper than usual as she drinks, the way her eyes close in bliss at the taste.

“Oh, you always were my smart girl, Y/N. You picked out a great one. Drink up, hon.” With that, she grabs the tv remote and turns it on. “What would you like to watch? I know you used to love the classics, but I’m sure you’ve developed a more evolved taste recently.”

You ponder on the question for a moment and stare back in your own distorted reflection in the wine that rests in your hand below you. “Well, it’s been out for a while, but I have been loving Orange is the New Black. If you’ve already seen it, that’s alright, you can pick!”

“Oh, I’ve seen it, but I love it. Let’s pick a good one.” She clicks through seasons and episodes before picking one she likes. You sip your drink and can’t help but hum in appreciation of the taste. Wanda’s head snaps towards the direction of your own at the sound, swiping her tongue over her teeth before practically sighing out, “You like that?” You stammer out an affirmative answer, flustered at just the sound of her voice.

You both return your attention to the tv screen, hoping for some relief from your blushing state. You find no help from the show, turning towards it to find the two main characters in an intense argument stop what they’re saying and pull each other into an intense, rough kiss… and it only leads to more. You turn slowly away from the screen and towards Wanda, desperate to see how she was reacting to the scene unfolding in front of you, but you’re met with her gaze already on you. She doesn’t look away. If anything, she analyzes you more closely, getting a feel for all of your tells, every way you’re reacting to the girls on the screen, the desperation in your pleading eyes that say everything you’re too shy to say yourself.

It’s her who finally breaks her gaze, looking back up to the screen. You take this opportunity to continue looking at her, hypnotized by her beauty, which was now illuminated by the glow of the television. She lets it happen for 5 seconds longer before snapping back to you.

“It’s rude to stare, yknow?” Dumbfounded, you reply, “Then why is it ok when you do it?” You regret it as quickly as it comes out of your mouth. She rises to her feet and places her now empty glass down on the table with such force you thought it might shatter. She takes the few steps it takes to be standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off of your skin and grabs your jaw harshly.

“Watch your mouth.” And then she’s walking off to her bedroom. You’re truly shocked as you down the rest of your glass, clear both of them as they’re now empty, and turn off the tv. You sit out in the room for a bit longer, just gathering the courage to walk down the hallway to enter your room that shared a wall with Wanda’s. You finally do, your steps not making a sound as you approach the room because of how slowly you’re going. You finally take a seat on your bed and scroll through varying socials when you start to hear… buzzing?

After being frozen in your tracks, you walk up to the wall that you share with Wanda… and that’s definitely buzzing. And moaning. You know you should walk away from the wall and respect Wanda’s privacy, she probably didn’t even know you were in the room yet because of how quietly you entered it, but you seemed to be magnetically pulled towards it. You were about to snap out of your trance when you heard something awfully familiar. Was she saying your name?

You press your ear to the wall. You hear her let out a noise a bit more broken and higher pitched than the rest of the string of moans you’d heard her emit before… and then nothing. You were left to wonder what it really was that you’d heard her say just moments before, sounding so similar to your name. But you must’ve been imagining that.

You get in bed, replaying the short sounds you’d heard minutes before in your head and wishing you’d cleaned up and made your way to the room just a bit more quickly, but almost simultaneously glad you didn’t- you didn’t need that kind of delusion fuel. You drift off to the memory of the older woman’s blissful sounds.

………………………………………………………………………… Thats all for part/night 1 of this new story! Please let me know if you like where it’s headed so far and if there’s anything you’d like to see in the following parts :)

tags: @ahintofchaos @bees-for-brains @scxrlett-wid0w

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part one

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: n/a, angst???

A/N: Been sitting in my docs for awhile! Based off Invisible by Taylor Swift - I have a couple parts ready to go not sure where i wanna take this but we'll see!

Part Two

-----

The city’s rhythm feels like a heartbeat, pulsing with the lives and stories of the people who live here. And for you, it’s not the towering buildings or bustling streets that make New York feel like home. It’s the people you share it with, the friends who’ve become your family, each with their own history and quirks, all somehow meshing together into this messy, beautiful dynamic you’d never trade for anything.

It started with Bucky. You met him on the playground when you were kids, both too stubborn to share the swing set. That was years ago, but you’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s been your constant, the friend who showed up at your house with snacks when you had a bad day, and the one who stayed up with you during endless nights of stargazing and silly conversations about what the future would hold.

When junior high rolled around, Steve joined your little duo. Steve, with his easy smile and that unwavering loyalty that made it impossible not to trust him. He fit right in, like he’d been meant to be part of your lives all along. Steve became the one to balance you and Bucky out — he was the one who kept the peace during your bickering, who had a shoulder to offer when one of you needed it. Steve quickly turned the two of you into an unbreakable trio.

Then came high school, and with it, Natasha. She was a transfer student, quiet and intimidating at first, with a sharp wit that kept everyone at arm’s length. But somehow, the three of you managed to break through that exterior. By senior year, she was as much a part of the group as you, Bucky, and Steve. Natasha’s the friend who knows everyone’s secrets, who has a knack for noticing things no one else does. She’s tough and unyielding, yet she’s also the one who brings you soup when you’re sick, who stays up late to talk through your problems — even when you don’t want to admit you have them.

College came, and your little circle expanded further. That’s when you met Sam. Sam was the life of the party, someone who could make anyone laugh and always knew the right thing to say. He was the friend you went to when you needed cheering up or a reality check, someone who wasn’t afraid to call you out when you needed it. With Sam came Wanda Maximoff, quiet but kind, with a gentle presence that somehow grounded everyone. She slipped into the group as if she’d always belonged there, the one who remembers little details and checks in on everyone. Wanda’s the friend who sits with you in silence when you’re upset, offering comfort without needing words.

You love them all — each one has carved out their own space in your life and heart. But then there’s Bucky.

Bucky is different. He’s been there the longest, woven into your memories and heart in a way that’s impossible to untangle. Somewhere along the line, he went from your best friend to something more, though he never seemed to notice. Bucky is everything you love and everything that frustrates you; he’s the guy who makes everyone around him feel like they’re the only person in the room, but he’s also the one who never stays attached to anyone for long.

He’s the smooth-talking charmer who flirts with every girl in sight, the perpetual bachelor who’s never been one for serious relationships. And while that should make it easier for you to keep your feelings hidden, it doesn’t. Because every time you see him with someone else, there’s a part of you that aches, wondering if he’ll ever look at you that way.

And yet, despite all the years and all the chances you’ve had to move on, you stay. Because Bucky is more than just a friend; he’s your home. You’re his confidant, the one who knows his secrets and his struggles, the one who’s always been there. It’s a role you wouldn’t give up for anything, even if it means watching him fall for everyone but you.

So, you keep your secret, tucked away behind the laughter and the years of memories. Because as much as it hurts sometimes, you’d rather have Bucky as your friend than risk losing him altogether.

The smell of pizza fills your tiny New York apartment as Steve brings in the last box from the kitchen, setting it down on the coffee table with a grin. “Alright, who’s ready to lose at Mario Kart?”

“You mean, who’s ready to lose to me,” Natasha chimes, grabbing a slice and settling on the couch, challenging smirk in place. “You all know I’m the reigning champion.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Sam teases, snatching the controller out of her hands with a wink. “I’m about to wipe the floor with all of you.”

You laugh, wedged into the corner of the couch beside Bucky, who’s flipping through channels like he’s in his own world. “You’ll be singing a different tune once I lap you three times,” he says, voice casual, eyes on the screen.

“Talk all you want, Barnes,” you reply, nudging his shoulder, “but you’re not gonna win tonight.”

His eyes meet yours, that lazy, amused smile you know so well. “Bring it on, doll.”

Natasha elbows you, muttering, “You two better save the banter for the race, or I’m taking both of you out first round.”

Your friends’ laughter fills the room, echoing off the narrow walls that have seen a hundred nights like this, crowded with the people you’ve come to think of as family. Wanda arrives a few minutes later, holding a tray of cupcakes she’s decorated herself. “Special edition, fall flavors,” she announces proudly, setting them down in the kitchen. “Pumpkin spice, because I know how basic you all are.”

Steve scoffs but grabs one immediately. “Did you just call me basic?”

“Take it as a compliment,” she teases, leaning into Sam, who gives her a quick side-hug. “Means you have taste.”

In the middle of this, Bucky slings his arm across the back of the couch, close enough that his hand almost brushes your shoulder. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, feel the way your pulse picks up—things he’d never notice.

“Why don’t we just skip the race and go straight to the part where we talk about how I’m a hero and you’re all my loyal sidekicks?” Bucky quips, popping open a beer and flashing a grin that could melt steel.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. “In what world do you get to be the hero?”

“In my world,” he replies with a wink, leaning in closer. You catch Natasha’s look over the rim of her drink, one eyebrow raised as if to say, See what I mean?

The hours pass like they always do, a blur of laughter, arguments over who cheated and who didn’t, Wanda’s cupcakes disappearing one by one, and Steve trying to prove he can actually beat Nat, despite his track record saying otherwise. It’s only when the clock hits midnight that everyone starts to wind down.

As they get ready to leave, Natasha gives you a long look. “See you tomorrow?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes full of something else.

You nod, managing a smile as she heads out with the others, leaving just you and Bucky to pick up the empty cans and plates. He nudges you as he gathers them up. “Another night, another victory,” he says.

“You were lucky, Barnes,” you say, rolling your eyes.

And maybe he’ll notice one day—how much it means to you that he’s here, that you’re the one left cleaning up with him every time the night winds down. But for now, he just laughs, flashing that grin of his that you can never get out of your head.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of my skills.”

“Skills?” you snort, tossing a pillow his way. “All I saw tonight was a lot of luck.”

He catches the pillow mid-air, grinning. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

There’s a lull as you both continue gathering up cups and plates, the quiet feeling comfortable, familiar. Every late night ends like this: just the two of you, unwinding after hours of laughter and chaos. You’re stacking plates by the sink when he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms with that easy, relaxed posture he gets when it’s just the two of you.

“So, what do you think of Kate?” he asks, out of nowhere.

You freeze, not quite sure how to answer. She’s… fine. In fact, she’s more than fine. She’s exactly the kind of person who should be with Bucky—smart, confident, and with a wit sharp enough to keep up with him.

“She seemed nice,” you manage, “I only met her the one time near the end of summer break” avoiding his gaze. “Why?”

He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I dunno. We’ve been talking a bit, and she’s… I don’t know, different.”

Different. The word sits heavy in your stomach, weighted with the implication. You force a smile, willing yourself not to overthink it. “Different’s good, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” He nods, looking thoughtful in a way that makes your heart sink, because this—this is new. You’ve watched him brush off a hundred girls, seen him roll his eyes at the idea of commitment more times than you can count. But he’s not brushing Kate off, and that terrifies you.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “if you’re planning to bring her around, at least let me so I can order extra pizza because 3 large pizza’s arent enought with Steve around”

Bucky chuckles, ruffling your hair in that infuriatingly casual way he’s always done. “You’re the best doll, you know that?”

The words are simple, playful, but they pierce all the same, a reminder of just how invisible you are to him in that way. “Yeah,” you say, a little quieter, “I know.”

[nottsbitch]

Time for a swim - T.N.

Summary: Theo's attempt at asking you out once again

✩✩✩✩

For as long as you could remember you had loved your clothes and everyone knew that. Coming to Hogwarts was one of the saddest days of your life in the sense that you could no longer pick out an outfit every day.

You eagerly anticipated the weekends, hoping to showcase as many outfits as possible, determined to remind everyone of your dream-worthy wardrobe.

And now, here you were, strolling towards Hogsmeade with Pansy, clad in a white lace dress and brown boots.

“You have to let me borrow those shoes next time we go out!” Part of you wondered if your friends were just using you for your clothes, but honestly, you didn’t mind.

“These are vintage—your only chance to wear them is at my funeral.” You both laughed, engrossed in your conversation, completely unaware of the group of idiots blocking your path ahead.

"Go out with me?" Theo couldn't even think of anything clever this time.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Thanks, but no.”

Theo’s smile faltered, but then he suddenly scooped you up in his arms. “Alright, then!”

Before you knew what was happening you were at the edge of the black lake, fighting in his arms.

"I guess I’ll just have to throw you into the Black Lake!”

You were shocked but a part of you also believed he wouldn't actually do it.

“Wait, what? Theo, no!” You squealed, laughter spilling out as he started running toward the dock.

“Say yes, and I won’t!” he teased, his grip secure but playful.

“Fine, fine! Put me down first!” you giggled, half-laughing and half-protesting.

“Only if you agree to a date!” He paused at the edge of the dock, eyes sparkling with mischief.

At this point there was a crowd that included your friends all gathered watching to see how this would play out.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Okay, okay! Yes!”

Just as you agreed, Theo’s foot slipped on the edge of the dock, and before either of you could react, you both tumbled into the cold, dark waters of the Black Lake with a splash.

The shock of the icy water took your breath away, and you surfaced, sputtering and laughing. But as you looked down at your feet, your heart sank. “No! My boots!” you exclaimed, the brown boots you loved already soaked and weighed down by the water.

Theo emerged beside you, shaking water off his face, his grin faltering when he noticed your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“My boots! They’re ruined!” you pouted, kicking your feet in frustration, the water sloshing around you.

He swam closer, a hint of concern in his eyes. “They’ll dry! It’s just a pair of shoes.”

“Easy for you to say!” you replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. “You didn’t just lose your favorite vintage brown boots! I was gonna wear these at my wedding”

He chuckled, but there was a softness in his expression. “Okay, but I think I’d trade a pair of shoes for a date with you any time.”

You sighed, letting the moment wash over you, realizing he had a point. “Fine, but just so you know, I’m going to make you pay for this later!”

He laughed "I think I can handle that." and with that, he took your hand and started to swim towards your friends. You followed, both of you laughing as you made your way across the shimmering water. At that moment, with the cool water surrounding you and the sun breaking through the clouds, you couldn’t help but smile.

✩✩✩✩

[bueckets]

thank you for taking the time to read my works. below you'll find a collection of my series and standalone stories organized for easy browsing. i hope you find something that gets you onto santas naughty list.

Series

The Prophecy | Finished

Description: They call her The Prophecy—basketball’s impossible phenomenon, rewriting what it means to be perfect on the court. With a near-flawless shooting record and a mind just as sharp in aerospace engineering as it is in breaking down defenses, her name sparks awe, envy, and relentless scrutiny. But perfection has its cost.

But even legends have weak spots. When a high-stakes matchup against LSU draws the attention of Paige Bueckers—the golden face of college basketball—The Prophecy’s flawless world starts to crack. On the court, they’re rivals, locked in a battle for supremacy. Off the court, late-night texts and shared moments blur the lines between competition and something much harder to define.

Word Count: 30K

Part: Start Here

The Hit List | In Progress

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

Word Count: 34k

Part: Start Here

One Shots

Thin Walls

Description: When a sleep-deprived biomed student moves in with UConn’s most notorious heartbreaker, you expect late-night film study, protein shake graveyards, and an apartment perpetually scented like sweat and victory. What you don’t expect? Thin walls. And Paige Bueckers making absolutely no effort to keep her extracurricular activities quiet.

What starts as a battle for basic human decency turns into something far messier—petty revenge plots, mind games laced with innuendo, and an unspoken tension that neither of you is willing to name. Paige plays like she owns the court, like she owns the world, and maybe—just maybe—like she wants to own you, too.

They say pressure makes diamonds, but when it comes to Paige Bueckers, it just might make a disaster.

WC: 8.4k

Read Me

Going UP?

Description: From missed alarms to broken elevators, your Tuesday couldn’t get worse, well, until it gets better. When a late-running grad student’s desperate dash to save her thesis turns into an unexpected elevator encounter with UConn basketball sensation Paige Bueckers, she learns that sometimes the best assists come from broken machinery.

Armed with nothing but coffee-fueled anxiety and an encyclopedic knowledge of basketball analytics, you find yourself trading quips with college basketball’s golden girl in a stalled elevator. What starts as a disaster turns into something else entirely when basketball theory meets practice, terrible jokes meet dangerous grins, and hot chocolate meets, well, everywhere except the mug.

They say love is a game of chances. But when you’re trapped between floors with a girl who can bend physics on the court and make your heart run suicides off it, maybe it’s worth taking the shot.

Sometimes cupid doesn’t use arrows. Sometimes he just breaks the elevator.

Word Count: 8.1K

Part: Start Here

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[thisischaostragic]

i have been holding space for the Agatha finale (i’m in queer media) and am pleased to report that my feelings about it have shifted quite significantly. follow me, my friends, to a more or less coherent, very long text post at the end

primary thing: this show is very much about motherhood. idk why that didn’t totally register for me in the first half given how often they mentioned Nicky, but realizing this changed my analysis a ton. Billy doesn’t just remind Agatha of Nicky — Agatha loves Billy like a son. (i know “like a son” is an oversimplification, but I’m sticking with it for this post.)

with that, my thoughts on Agatha’s arc almost completely flipped. when Rio shows up in E8 and says she has to take Billy, Agatha is revisiting her deepest wound all over again. her reaction is harsh, but it’s not some long-simmering revenge plan or a calculated effort to hurt Rio. Agatha is literally just reacting to the fact that, after all of the almost-reconciliation, the love of her life is taking her son again. i think she was trying to get Rio to fight for her or to say the trade was too high a price and bend the rules. Agatha was trying to get Death to act only as her lover, and looks devastated when Rio actually walks away instead.

and so, when Agatha goes to the morgue trial and says that “sometimes, boys die,” she’s continuing that realization that Rio isn’t personally chasing her down and causing her grief. sometimes, death just… happens. and “out of Death, life” is largely about Agatha realizing that Rio did bend the rules for Nicky, but also doubles down on the Nicky and Billy parallels. both of Agatha’s sons were literally borne of Death and living on stolen time. loss is inevitable.

i think Agatha genuinely believed that Rio could have kept Nicky alive and chose not to. we know that Agatha blamed herself for Nicky dying (“the truth is too awful”). so Agatha, who was taught by her own mother that nobody would ever actually love her for who she is, probably thought that the love of her life just… didn’t love her as much as she thought she did. going back to E1, i think “you don’t have a heart” is equal parts about Nicky as it is about Agatha herself. her main takeaway is that everyone will betray her, even when they claim to love her, and so she hides behind power and a god awful reputation so that she can keep everyone at arm’s length and never get hurt again.

ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: when Billy is about to die, Agatha almost retreats back into the version of herself she became after Nicky died, but she doesn’t. she turns around and faces the pain head-on.

and I want to take a second to appreciate how immensely hard that would be. Agatha spent centuries killing people so she could be powerful enough to stay numb. Agatha spent all of that time pushing away the love of her life, who still loves her, who still sees her fully, and who Agatha is clearly still desperate to return to. Agatha realizes, probably to absurd amounts of despair, that she was wrong about all of it. and she still turns around.

it’s not about Agatha randomly sacrificing herself for a last minute villain kind-of-redemption. it’s about Agatha breaking the cycle she’s trapped herself in for an unfathomably long time, admitting that she knows Rio couldn’t change the outcome, and acknowledging that, yeah, she actually does love this kid.

and honestly?? i don’t think Agatha becoming a ghost counts as killing her. she’s literally still around, doing stuff, picking up brooches (👀 Rio wya), and getting a second chance at… not motherhood, exactly, but caring for a child. (and a queer child! and the idea of Agatha, who has been queer since the *1600s*, getting to tell this gay kid over and over again that there’s nothing innately wrong with him makes me actually sob.)

HOWEVER! i maintain some criticisms. i think Jen deserved to have an actual fight with the doctor who bound her. (the oops! it was Agatha All Along twist was… complicated. i have mixed feelings. essay for another day, but i wanted Jen to have rage time that everyone was just cheering for.)

i needed Death lore. how is she physically with Agatha so often if, as Agatha states, 120 people die every minute? is she Death the cosmic entity, or are green witches sort of responsible for decay on earth?

some of the plot elements were severely under-developed, and frustratingly, the vast majority of the underdeveloped plotlines had to do with Agatha/Rio’s romantic relationship, Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s reasons for killing people. (the fact that they said she’s a siphon in interviews and not once on the show will never stop baffling me lmao.) i find it very frustrating that a LARGE chunk of the underdeveloped stuff relates back to Agatha’s queerness in some way.

however… i am willing to be generous about some of that, because i find it difficult to believe that this *extremely queer* creative team actually just disregarded major queer plot elements. i am far more inclined to believe that they were operating under a hostile corporation and pushing as far as they could, and in that case, they did a fucking phenomenal job.

i genuinely think that the way they landed the show opens the door for them to… dare I say it? … give Agatha/Rio a happy ending?? ghost Agatha literally need only show up to Rio’s house or cave or dimension or whatever and be like “heyyyyy, yeah that kiss was forgiveness and also i’m solid enough to use my hands now” and it would be believable. the fact that it would take them only 15 seconds to give us two fucked up lesbians having their version of happily ever after is actually pretty cool

anyway, this is an abridged summary of how my feelings abt the Agatha All Along finale went from like a 4/10 rating to an 8/10.