#but he offers you the air first as a joke

[reiding-writing]

in my head cold!reader fs has her silly moments because she’s a funny gal!!! she just hides it 😞 i also would love to see them all go ice skating because they tease her about being an ice princess all the time

SLIP ‘N SLIDE — SPENCER REID!

for someone often likened to all things icy, you don’t deal with actual ice all that well.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 1.3k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — not quite ice skating, more like ice walking, but close enough i hope 😭

Snow blankets the ground in an unbroken sheet of white, thick and heavy, muffling the world. The air is sharp enough to slice through layers of clothing, and each breath curls into a ghostly mist before vanishing. It's the kind of cold that settles in your bones, the kind that reminds you of all the reasons you despise winter.

The wind cuts like a blade against your cheek, biting through the layers of your FBI-issued winter coat. You bury your chin deeper into the fleece-lined collar, eyes narrowed against the sharp glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off the ice.

“The crime scene is on the other side,” Hotch announces, his breath fogging in the air.

“Great,” you mutter. “Just great.”

A frozen lake. Of course.

You glance at the ice stretching out before you, the crime scene a stark, crimson-streaked contrast against the pristine white of the snow on the far side. The local authorities determined it would take too long to go around, and in these temperatures, time is everything. The killer's trail is fresh, the evidence vulnerable to the elements.

So, naturally, your team has decided to cross the ice.

“Let's move carefully,” Hotch warns. “We don't know how thick it is.”

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Morgan says, shifting his weight as he surveys the slick surface between you and the body. “Guess we’re getting our morning cardio in,”

Beside him, Spencer adjusts his scarf, his breath puffing in front of him like smoke. “Technically, the increased difficulty of walking across an unstable, frictionless surface means our energy expenditure will be higher than normal. It’s not exactly—”

“Kid,” Morgan cuts in, shaking his head, “it was a joke,”

Spencer closes his mouth, but the corners twitch like he’s fighting the urge to clarify further.

You sigh, already feeling the first inklings of a headache forming. The case has been dragging on for days now—cold, bleak, and utterly relentless, much like the weather. The victim count is rising, and the unsub’s patterns are erratic, making it harder to form a cohesive profile.

Everything about this case feels unsteady, and now, looking at the vast stretch of ice before you, that instability has become a literal obstacle.

The team step onto the ice in what’s almost a single-file line, following the careful steps of the local detective guiding them safely across the lake.

You, however, stay firmly planted at the edge.

“You coming, Ice Queen?” Morgan calls over his shoulder, smirking.

The nickname grates, but you don’t react. You never do. You've heard it all before—it’s nothing new.

But today, for once, the title feels ironic. Because as much as you might be an ‘Ice Queen,’ you are not in your element.

The moment you step onto the ice, you know you're doomed.

Your boot slides, and suddenly, gravity isn't your friend. Your arms pinwheel as you scramble for balance, heart lurching into your throat.

Morgan barks out a laugh. “Damn, Princess. You sure you’re not playing it up for effect?”

You shoot him a glare. “Bite me, Morgan.”

He just chuckles, clearly amused by your suffering.

JJ glances back with a smothered smile, and Emily—traitor that she is—grins outright. “Need a hand?” she offers, but there's amusement in her voice, and you refuse to give her the satisfaction.

“No.” you say stiffly, planting your feet more firmly.

Except the ice has other plans.

Your boot skids again, and for a split second, you think you might recover—until you don’t. Your feet fly out from under you, and you hit the ice with a spectacular lack of grace.

The impact rattles through your bones, and for a moment, you just lie there, staring up at the grey sky, wondering if it’s too late to quit your job and move somewhere warm.

You hear Morgan’s laughter first—loud and unfiltered. Then Emily’s, followed by JJ’s soft giggle. Even Rossi looks vaguely amused.

And Spencer.

When you turn your head, you find him standing nearby, eyes wide, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

Your dignity is in shambles.

“Glad I could entertain you,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

Morgan wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “I gotta be honest, I expected better from you. All that ice in your veins, and you can't even stand up on it?”

You level him with a look that could freeze hell itself. “Say that again, Morgan. I dare you.”

That just makes him laugh harder.

You try to rise—carefully, deliberately—but the moment you shift your weight, your foot betrays you again, sending you skidding forward. You barely catch yourself on your hands before your knees slam into the ice.

This is actual hell.

You hear a quiet shuffling, and then Spencer is crouching beside you. “Here,” he says, offering his hand. “Let me help you,”

You stare at it, then at him. “I can do it myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says patiently, “but statistically speaking, the longer you struggle, the higher the likelihood of you falling again,”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you just calculate my probability of embarrassment?”

“Technically, it’s your probability of losing your balance,” he corrects. “But if you’d prefer, I could just—“

“Fine,” you snap, before he can retract his offer.

You grab his hand, and he pulls you up with surprising steadiness. His grip is warm, fingers wrapping securely around yours. He doesn’t let go immediately, waiting until you find your footing.

“Okay?” he asks.

You nod, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His lips quirk in the smallest smile. “Anytime,”

Behind you, Morgan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Man, that was cute,”

“I hope you drown.”

You manage to stay upright as you start moving again, though it's a battle with every step. Spencer stays close, occasionally offering a hand when you falter. You try not to let it bother you—try not to acknowledge the warmth lingering on your skin where his fingers brushed against yours.

Eventually, you reach the other side of the lake, and you’ve never been more grateful to feel solid ground beneath your feet.

Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder as he passes. “Nice work, Permafrost. That was real impressive,”

You resist the urge to trip him.

“Go die.”

“You wound me,” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “And here I was, thinking we had a special bond,”

“If by ‘special bond’ you mean I tolerate your existence, then sure.”

Spencer snorts beside you, and for a brief moment, you almost smile.

Almost.

But then the cold seeps back in, and the reality of the case presses down on you once more. The victim is just ahead, her body pale and still against the snow.

Your amusement fades.

There’s still work to be done.

“You really don’t like the ice, huh?” Spencer asks after a moment.

You sigh, brushing the remnants of frost from your jeans. “No. I really don’t.”

“Noted,” he says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

[buckets-and-trees]

Huffily Ever After: A CindereLloyd Story [6/8]

Chapter Six - An Afternoon Adrift

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: You're fired, and it's not a joke.

SERIES Content/Warnings: modern Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities, enemies to lovers, toxic coworkers, eventual smut

Notes: Tenth story for the Valentine Storygrams.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice sounding small and uncertain even to your own ears, and you hated that. "Isn't it obvious?" Amilla said, her voice as cold and sharp as an icicle. "You're fired."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs.

"What?" you gasped, your mind reeling. "Why?"

Amilla's gaze was unflinching, her posture rigid. "We lost Zhongxin to Hansen Global this morning," she started. “Holly and Anya told me you’ve been spending every minute you can with people from Hansen Global since you got here, so since you’re clearly jumping ship, I’m cutting you out first so you don’t get the satisfaction.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process Amilla's words. The accusation was so absurd, so far from reality, that for a moment you were speechless. The bustling lobby seemed to fade away, leaving you in a bubble of disbelief with only Amilla's cold stare penetrating the haze.

"That's... that's ridiculous," you finally managed. You cleared your throat, forcing strength into your words. "I haven't been 'spending every minute' with any one person or group. I've been attending sessions, networking with potential clients and collaborators to consult with, just like we planned."

Amilla's eyebrow arched skeptically. "Really? Because that's not what the team says. They've seen you with Claude Dumont and Lloyd Hansen multiple times and word spread that you were at the Hansen Global table at the awards gala last night cozying right up to Robert Hansen himself."

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of Amilla's accusations. "I spoke with Claude and Lloyd at a few networking events, yes. And I was invited to the Hansen table for part of the gala, but that was just—"

Amilla cut you off with a sharp wave of her hand. "Save it. The evidence is clear. Even now your boyfriend’s inserting himself after lurking in wait for you.”

You turn and look over your shoulder, angry to see Lloyd just a few steps away.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” he says, voice low and clipped.

“Stay out of this,” you hiss.

He’s not your boyfriend, nor do you want him to be, but his instant rebuttal still stung your pride in the moment.

Amilla’s laugh is devoid of any actual mirth. “You've been consorting with our biggest competitor, and now we've lost our most important international client to them. The timing is too convenient to be coincidence."

Anger rages within you, cutting through the shock. "This is ridiculous! I've poured my heart and soul into Nexus, into the Zhongxin account. I would never betray the company like that!"

"Actions speak louder than words," Amilla replied coldly. "And your actions have spoken volumes. Since it’s a firing with cause, you’re termination is effective immediately, and no severance package will be offered. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” her last words were dripping with falsely overdone politeness, “we’re done here, and I’m done with you forever.”

With that, Amilla turned on her heel and strutted away and back into the restaurant.

You stood rooted to the spot, your mind reeling as you tried to process what had just happened. The bustling hotel lobby blurred and turned to white noise, leaving you in a daze of shock and disbelief. Your career, your reputation, everything you had worked so hard for - it all felt like it was crumbling around you.

"Hey," Lloyd's voice cut through the fog of your thoughts. You'd almost forgotten he was there. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Am I okay? No, I'm not okay! I just lost my job because of you and your company!"

Lloyd's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "Because of me? I had nothing to do with it!"

"Really?" you scoffed. "Your company poaches our biggest international client, then I'm accused of consorting with the enemy and fired on the spot. Seems pretty connected to me."

Lloyd took a step closer, his voice low and intense. "I had no idea Zhongxin was your client when the deal was made. And I certainly didn't orchestrate your firing."

You wanted to believe him, but doubt and anger still churned within you. "Then why were you following me just now?"

"I wasn't following you," Lloyd said, exasperation creeping into his tone. "This is a public lobby. I was on my way to meet someone when, yes, I did slow down out of curiosity and overheard the conversation. I couldn't just walk away when I heard what was happening."

He couldn't walk away when he heard what was happening? You searched his face, skeptical, before throwing out a, “Fine,” and turning away.

“Fine?” he scoffed. “You’re still pissed at me?” he followed you as you headed for the elevators.

You spun around to face Lloyd, anger flashing in your eyes. "My career just imploded in front of me, so, yeah, I’m angry, I’m hurt, but don’t flatter yourself into thinking that every one of my thoughts are centered around you, Lloyd Hansen.”

You spun and walked as swiftly as you could without running, weaving through the clusters of tourists and conference attendees in the lobby. The opulent surroundings that had once filled you with awe now seemed to mock you, a stark reminder of how quickly fortunes could change. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, their light catching on the gilded mirrors lining the walls, reflecting your harried expression back at you from every angle.

As you approached the bank of elevators, you could hear Lloyd's footsteps behind you, his longer stride allowing him to follow you easily. You jabbed the elevator button repeatedly, willing it to arrive faster, desperate to retreat to the privacy of your room.

"Wait," Lloyd tried. "Just hear me out."

The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open. You stepped inside, turning to face Lloyd as you pressed the button for your floor. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to keep it steady.

Lloyd's hand shot out, holding the elevator door open. His blue eyes bored into yours, intense and unyielding. "Five minutes. That's all I'm asking for."

You hesitated, torn between your need to be alone and the nagging feeling that there was more to this situation than you understood. The elevator chimed impatiently, urging you to make a decision.

"I don't think there's anything left to say."

Lloyd's expression hardened, a muscle twitching in his jaw. As the doors began to close again, he delayed them once more. "You're making assumptions based on incomplete information."

You crossed your arms and pinned him with a venomous stare, “You can’t reverse what just happened, so I don’t think there’s any information you could share that would really help the situation at all, okay?”

Lloyd's jaw clenched, his piercing blue eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. But you held his gaze, refusing to back down.

"Fine," he conceded, his voice low and controlled. "If that's what you want."

He stepped back, allowing the elevator doors to close. As they slid shut, you caught one last glimpse of his face - a mixture of frustration and something else you couldn't quite identify. Regret? Concern?

The moment the doors closed fully, you sagged against the elevator wall, the enormity of what had just transpired was about to crash over you in waves, you could feel it. Your career, your reputation, your future - all of it had been upended in a matter of minutes. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them back furiously. You wouldn't cry, not here, not now.

The elevator ascended swiftly, and you knew you only had to keep it together for a few more minutes.

As soon as you entered your hotel room, the facade crumbled. You collapsed onto the bed, body shaking with sobs you could no longer contain. The injustice of it all overwhelmed you - the baseless accusations, the loss of the job you'd poured yourself into, and no chance to even defend yourself.

Your mind raced through the events of the past few days, searching for any sign, any clue that could have warned you of the impending disaster. But there was nothing. Just yesterday, you'd been riding high on the success of your panel discussion, feeling like you were finally carving out a place for an exciting future in the industry.

Victor trying to force himself had shaken you and been humiliating, but you had been able to work through enough of that with Maggie to know that it would just be a dark spot but not ruin everything. It had been a private struggle, and you could even guess that it wasn’t probably even that much to do with you, you just happened to be the one he’d fixed on this week.

But this?

It was personal.

You had known Amilla tolerated you because she had to and you delivered results. But she’d found a reason to finally shove you out. And now? Now you were unemployed, accused of betraying the very company you'd given your all to in the first chapters of your journey, and stranded at a conference where you no longer belonged. The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

As the initial shock began to subside, a new emotion started to take hold: anger. Anger at Amilla for jumping to conclusions without giving you a chance to explain. Anger at Holly and Anya for apparently spreading rumors about you. Anger at Lloyd and Hansen Global for their role in this mess, even if you weren't entirely sure what that role was.

And beneath it all, a simmering anger at yourself. Should you have seen this coming? Had you been naive in thinking your hard work and dedication would be enough to secure your place at Nexus?

Your phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand, likely filled with messages from confused colleagues and friends who had heard snippets of gossip. But you couldn't bring yourself to look at it, not yet. The thought of facing their questions, their pity, or worse, their judgment, was too much. So you turned your phone to do not disturb for the next hour before putting it back on the nightstand.

You lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as your mind raced. The plush comforter was your only respite in this moment, and yet even that made you acutely aware that you no longer belonged here, in this posh hotel room paid for by a company that had just unceremoniously fired you.

When your phone buzzed again an hour later, it pulled you from a nap you didn’t know you’d sunken into. Your mind hadn’t quieted, but evidently being still, in the cozy bed, the emotional exhaustion had swallowed you up - racing mind and all. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, bracing yourself for whatever fresh hell awaited you.

The screen was filled with notifications for missed calls, text messages, and slack alerts. Your thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating. Did you really want to deal with this right now?

Before you could decide, a soft knock at the door startled you out of your daze. For a moment, you considered ignoring it, not wanting to face anyone. But then a familiar voice called out.

"It's Gus. Please open up."

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and made your way to the door. When you opened it, Gus stood there, his face etched with concern. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I don’t even know what to say," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

You melted into his embrace, fresh tears streaming down your face, but at least you were past sobbing - for the moment.

"How did you find out?" you asked, your voice muffled against Gus's shoulder.

Gus pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. "Word spreads fast at these things. I overheard some people gossiping about it in the hallway. I couldn't believe it, and I tried to text you but you didn’t answer, so I came straight here."

You stepped back, allowing Gus to enter the room. As you closed the door, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. At least you weren't completely alone in this mess.

"I know it happened, but I still can't believe it," you admitted, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "One minute I'm preparing for what I assumed would be a red alert meeting, and the next..."

Gus sat beside you, his brow furrowed. "What exactly did happen? The rumor mill is going wild, but I want to hear it from you."

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Amilla had set you up for a spectacle in your firing. That was abundantly clear now.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to recount the painful scene. "Amilla, Anya, and Holly were already there - she told me to meet them at noon, but they’d already been seated and had ordered even though I was a few minutes early. She ushered me out into the lobby, accused me of conspiring with Hansen Global, said we lost the Zhongxin account to them because of me. She fired me on the spot, effective immediately, and said it was so I couldn’t quit on Nexus after what I’d done."

Gus's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's insane! You've been nothing but loyal to Nexus. How could she think you'd betray the company like that?"

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up again. "Apparently, Holly and Anya have been spreading rumors about me spending time with people from Hansen Global. And then Lloyd showed up right as Amilla was firing me, which only made things worse."

"Lloyd? As in Lloyd Hansen?" Gus asked, his tone sharpening slightly.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah, he just appeared out of nowhere. He said it was just terrible timing, but it definitely didn't help my case."

Gus's eyes narrowed. "What did he want?"

"He tried to talk to me afterwards, said he wanted to explain something," you replied, shaking your head. "But I was too upset to listen. I just wanted to get away from everyone."

Gus was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you think... is there any chance he actually knows something about what happened?"

You paused, considering. In your anger and shock, you hadn't given Lloyd any chance to speak. "I don't know. Maybe? But even if he does, how could it possibly change anything? I've still been fired.”

"And what exactly is your relationship with Lloyd Hansen?"

You felt a flash of irritation at the implication in Gus's tone. "There is no relationship," you countered firmly. "We've interacted at a few events, that's all. He invited me to dance at the afterparty of the gala last night, but it was purely professional, and then he helped me out in that Victor altercation as any decent person would have."

Gus looked skeptical. "Are you sure about that? He seems pretty interested in you."

You stood up abruptly, and began pacing the room. "Even if he is - which I'm not at all convinced of - it doesn't matter," you said, your voice rising with frustration. "What matters is that I've lost my job and I have no idea what I'm going to do next."

Gus held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you about this right now. What can I do to help?"

You stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I don't know, Gus. I feel like I'm drowning here."

"Okay, let's take this one step at a time," Gus said, his tone gentle but firm. "First things first, do you want to stay for the rest of the conference?"

You hadn't even considered that. The thought of facing everyone after what had happened made your gut churn. “No, but I don’t have the money to just jump on a plane back home. God, am I even still allowed to stay in this room? Nexus was paying for everything for our travel!”

Gus's expression softened. "Don't worry about that right now. We'll figure it out. If you need to, you can crash in my room until we sort things out."

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thanks, Gus. I don't know what I'd do without you right now."

He gave you a small smile. "That's what friends are for.”

You nodded, grateful for Gus's steady presence. As you both sat in silence for a moment, your phone buzzed again, startling you back to its presence.

"You should probably check that," Gus said gently, “but do you want to yet?”

You grimaced at him before your eyes flicked back to the phone.

“Okay, no,” Gus said, “there might be something important, but I’m making the executive decision that it can all wait for at least one more hour. We’re going out for a walk. Fresh air and the city streets will be good for your soul, and then you can with all of this,” he snatched your phone from the nightstand, shaking it around before pocketing it in his pocket.

You frowned, but nodded. You felt like you should be ready, but you weren’t ready. “Okay. But one hour. Then I should at least skim things.”

“Totally agree to that. Now go splash some water on your face, grab a jacket, and then we’re going. I downloaded six audio-guided walking tours of the city and have only done one of them!”

You managed a weak smile at Gus's enthusiasm. "Alright, alright. Give me a minute."

In the bathroom, you did as instructed and splashed cold water on your face, trying to erase the evidence of your tears. The person staring back at you in the mirror looked pale and shell-shocked, but at least your eyes were no longer red and puffy. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the outside world.

You and Gus were able to head down to the ground floor and make your way out out of the hotel without bumping into anyone, and the bustling city street hit you with a wave of noise and energy. It was jarring after the quiet cocoon of your room, but also oddly comforting. The world was still turning, life was going on all around you, oblivious to your personal crisis.

Gus handed you an earbud and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times as you inserted the proffered but and then a chipper voice began narrating directly into your ear.

"Welcome to the Hidden Gems of Paris-Montparnasse according to an ex-pat Walking Tour! I'll be exploring some of the lesser-known historical sites and architectural wonders of this vibrant city. Let's begin our journey at the Saint-Jacques Metro station…"

As you and Gus followed the audio guide's instructions, weaving through the bustling streets, you felt some of the tension in your body start to ease with the movement. The narrator's enthusiastic descriptions of century-old buildings and quirky local legends provided a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your thoughts.

Gus occasionally nudged you, pointing out particularly interesting details or making quiet jokes about some of the more outlandish claims in the tour. His presence was comforting, a reminder that you weren't alone in this mess.

After about forty-five minutes, you were just exiting the Gardens of the Observatory of Paris when Gus suddenly tensed beside you. You turned to follow his gaze, and the sight that greeted you was both unexpected and overwhelming.

There stood Maggie, her arms laden with an assortment of paper bags. Next to her, also holding bags and looking slightly uncomfortable but determined, was Claude Dumont.

"What a perfect coicidence!" Maggie exclaimed, her voice infused with a forced cheerfulness that didn't quite reach her eyes as they approached. "We were on our way back to the hotel to try and find you - and we come bearing sustenance for the weary."

You stood frozen for a moment, your mind struggling to process this new development.

“What do you say to a picnic here in the park?” Maggie suggested more than asked.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to press on with the walking tour or retreat back to your room and the realization that you couldn't hide forever. Gus squeezed your arm gently, a silent show of support.

"I guess that would be okay," you managed. These were two people

Maggie's smile softened, becoming more genuine. "Wonderful. Let's find a nice spot, shall we?"

Following Maggie and Claude deeper into the garden, you couldn't help but notice the tense set of Claude's shoulders. He kept glancing at you, but didn’t speak yet, the tension palpable but manageable as Claude's presence served as a stark reminder of the company at the center of your predicament.

You found a secluded area with a few benches surrounding a small fountain. The gentle sound of water provided a soothing backdrop as Maggie and Claude began unpacking their bags.

"We've got a bit of everything," Maggie announced, beginning to open bags. The rich scent of freshly baked bread wafted towards you, mingling with the sharp tang of cheese and the sweet promise of pastries. It was a sensory bliss that further distracted you from the upheaval of your life today. Your stomach growled in approval, reminding you that you’d missed lunch.

"I... hope my presence is not wholly unwelcome," Claude said, his usually confident demeanor somewhat subdued. He held out bottles of sparkling water and spring water, letting you take your pick. "I insisted on accompanying Maggie on her mission to find and feed you. I thought perhaps I could offer some clarity on the situation."

You felt a conflicting surge of emotions. Over the past few days, you'd grown fond of Claude. His wit, charm, and genuine interest in your ideas had been a breath of fresh air in the often stuffy atmosphere of the conference. His friendly overtures had been so genuine and welcome, but now…

You hesitated, torn between your desire for answers and your instinct to protect yourself from further hurt.

Maggie intervened, her voice gentle. "I know it's a lot, but I think you should hear him out. Claude reached out to me the moment he heard, and... well, I think there's more to this story than we realize."

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself.

"Okay," you said finally.

The late afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting long shadows across the landscape and illuminating the worry lines etched on Claude's face.

Claude cleared his throat, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on his knee. "First, I want to say how deeply sorry I am about what's happened. The deal with Zhongxin... it was news to me this morning as well."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you exchanged a quick glance with Gus, who looked equally taken aback.

"What do you mean? You’re head of international relations at Hansen Global.”

Claude nodded, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed I am. But the world of international business is often more complex than it appears on the surface." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he began to explain.

"You see, Zhongxin has been a coveted client for many companies in our industry for quite some time. Months ago, when they opened up a bidding process, inviting proposals for representation, multiple companies jumped at the chance, including both Nexus and Hansen Global. I was heavily involved in our pitch, given my role. We put together what I believed to be an impressive proposal - innovative strategies, cutting-edge technologies, the works."

As Claude spoke, you found yourself transported back to those intense weeks of preparation at Nexus. The late nights, the endless revisions, the nervous energy that had permeated the office. You remembered the thrill when Nexus had been selected, the pride you'd felt in being part of the team that secured such a prestigious client. The memory now felt bittersweet, tainted by recent events.

Claude continued, his voice drawing you back to the present. "We lost that bid to Nexus, fair and square. It was disappointing, of course, but not entirely unexpected given Nexus's stellar reputation emerging in the Asian market."

You nodded, a small spark of pride flickering despite everything. Your team had worked incredibly hard on that pitch.

“I have a longtime friend who is a member of Zhongxin’s board, so afterwards I asked if there was anything we could have done differently, anything that might have swayed their decision. And do you know what my friend told me?"

You shook your head, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

"He said no, that our proposal was excellent. But then he mentioned something interesting. He said that in the end, there was a dynamic young professional on the Nexus team that they had a really good feeling about. Someone who had not only showed remarkable insight and passion during the presentations, but who had been diligent, eager, and helpful in all correspondence from the beginning stages up to the end." Claude paused, and his gaze intense gaze held a visible glimmer of admiration despite the gravity of the situation. "He was talking about you."

The revelation hit you like a wave, momentarily washing away the ache of your recent firing. You remembered the pitch meeting vividly - the way you'd passionately presented your ideas, the energy in the room, the approving nods from the Zhongxin representatives. At the time, you'd attributed their positive response to the strength of the overall proposal. Now, learning that you had played such a pivotal role in securing the account filled you with a bittersweet pride.

“I told you the night we met that I was already aware of your work in Southeast Asia and this was what pointed me in your direction, and I’ve been keeping tabs on your work since then.”

Claude's words hung in the air for a moment as you processed this new information. You felt a mix of pride and confusion, unsure how to reconcile this revelation with your current situation.

"But if I was such a key factor in winning the account," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "then why would Zhongxin suddenly switch to Hansen Global? And why would Amilla think I had anything to do with it?"

Claude's expression darkened. "That's where things get complicated. And, I'm afraid, rather ugly."

He paused, seeming to weigh how to proceed with the next bit. The air was thick with tension as everyone waited for him to continue.

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About a month ago, I started hearing whispers that Zhongxin was starting to become unhappy with Nexus. Nothing concrete, just murmurs of discontent. I didn't think much of it at first - client relationships often have ups and downs, especially as two parties learn to navigate the client relationship in the first year.

"But then," Claude continued, his voice lowering, "I heard something that troubled me deeply. There were rumors that someone at Nexus was deliberately sabotaging the Zhongxin account."

You felt your stomach drop. "What? That's impossible. We were all working so hard on that account!"

Claude nodded grimly. "I have no doubt that you were. But the whispers persisted. Now you worked most often with Min Ho Song, correct?"

“Yes.”

“And Min Ho learned that your team director, Amilla Tremaine, was making a trip to Shanghai to meet with a potential new client.”

“That’s right. Amilla and Zhongxin’s schedules weren’t lining up while she was going to be there, and since Zhongxin wasn’t paying to bring her out, she had to prioritize the other client, but Min Ho and the team seemed like they were understanding.”

“Well, it turns out Amilla did find a pocket of time to meet with Zhongxin.”

A pit began to form in your stomach.

Claude's expression grew even more somber as he continued. "According to my friend on the board, Amilla's meeting with Zhongxin was disastrous. She arrived nearly an hour late, offering only a flippant apology about traffic. This, in a culture where punctuality is highly valued, especially in business settings."

You felt your chest tighten, imagining the scene. The Zhongxin executives, impeccably dressed and perfectly on time, waiting in a sleek conference room as the minutes ticked by. The growing tension, the exchanged glances, the murmured concerns.

"But it gets worse," Claude said, his voice low. "Throughout the meeting, Amilla reportedly displayed a dismissive attitude towards Zhongxin's concerns and questions. She interrupted speakers, checked her phone repeatedly, and at one point even rolled her eyes at a suggestion from one of their senior board members."

You felt sick. This was not wildly different than how she treated you, but you were stunned that she had treated any client this way - especially one as large as Zhongxin.

“Seemingly fed up with their input and concerns, she proposed drastic changes to the current strategies - strategies that, as I understand it, were largely based on ideas you had pitched to launch some of their key campaign and marketing strategies. When they tried to express that they only wanted to discuss adjustments and expansions, she said they should trust her expertise - that she didn’t tell them how to do their jobs, so they shouldn’t tell her how to do hers.”

Your jaw dropped.

“The chair of the board then said she was right - and as board chair, he knew when it was time to terminate a toxic partnership.”

“Wait,” Gus interjected. “Are you saying that Amilla knew she killed the relationship before she even left Shanghai?”

Claude nodded. “Before she even left the building.”

“What the hell! How long did she think she’d be able to keep this quiet? Or did she think she’d be able to recover?” Gus asked.

You were still too stunned to speak.

“She may have even thought closing a deal with the new client would compensate for losing Zhongxin,” Maggie tossed out.

Claude shook his head, a wry smile playing at his lips. "It's anyone's guess what was going through Amilla's mind. Perhaps she thought she could salvage the situation, or maybe she believed losing Zhongxin wouldn't be as catastrophic as it's turned out to be. The human mind has an remarkable capacity for self-deception, especially when pride and ego are involved."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the lush gardens surrounding you. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground and highlighting the vibrant colors of the flowers nearby. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming roses, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly cut grass.

"As for Zhongxin," Claude continued, his attention returning to you, "they didn't waste any time. After deciding to terminate their contract with Nexus, they immediately revisited the proposals that had been on the table a year ago. Our offer, it seems, still held viability and appeal for them. They worked with our office in Southeast Asia to finalize and sign the deal in the last twelve hours, and by the nature of the time difference, I only found out a couple of hours before they issued their press statement.”

You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you - anger at Amilla, disbelief at the turn of events, and a growing sense of injustice. "But why would Amilla accuse me of betraying the company? Why fire me?"

Claude's expression darkened. "That's where things get even uglier. It seems Amilla needed a scapegoat."

Maggie leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Think about it. Amilla knew she'd messed up catastrophically. She needed someone to blame, and fast."

"And I was the perfect target," you said, the realization running like ice through your veins. "Young, ambitious, someone she's never fully trusted or liked, and the person who had the closest relationship with the Zhongxin team."

Claude nodded grimly. "Exactly. By pinning the blame on you, she could potentially save face with the higher-ups at Nexus. She could claim that you had been secretly working with Hansen Global, feeding us information, and that's why we were able to swoop in so quickly after the fallout."

"That's ridiculous!" Gus exclaimed, his face flushed with anger. "There's no evidence to support that!"

"Evidence isn't always necessary when someone is desperate to cover their tracks," Maggie said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Not in the corporate jungle.”

You felt numb, struggling to process the enormity of what you were hearing. The injustice of it all made your head spin. You had poured your heart and soul into that account, into Nexus, only to have it all ripped away because of Amilla's incompetence and desperation to save face.

"So what happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Claude leaned forward, his eyes intense. "That's up to you. But I want you to know that Hansen Global would be more than happy to bring you on board. In fact, when Zhongxin signed with us, they specifically suggested we poach you."

You blinked in surprise. "They did?"

Claude nodded. "They spoke very highly of your work and insights."

A small spark of pride ignited in your chest, but it was quickly doused by the weight of everything else. "I... I don't know. This is a lot to consider.”

"But this isn’t fair!" Gus retorted, his face still furious. "We can't let her get away with this!"

You appreciated Gus's righteous indignation on your behalf, but a creeping sense of hopelessness was settling in. "What can we even do? It's my word against hers.”

Gus gasped then.

“What?” you asked immediately.

“Helen!”

“Helen?”

“Yes!” he laughed. “She just landed a few hours ago! You’ve got to talk to her! You were basically her protégé! She’ll have to believe you!”

With all the drama, you’d forgotten she was on her way to Paris from Amsterdam, and while you’d been thrilled with that news this morning, now you were nervous to face her - if so many others knew you’d been fired, she certainly would by now, too.

Gus hastily pulled your phone from his pocket and thrust it into your hands. You bit your lip as you turned off Do Not Disturb.

Sure enough, among the sea of notifications, one stood out - a DM in Slack from Helen, your former boss and now the VP of Strategy and Innovation.

HELEN: We need to talk as soon as you can.

It had been sent almost an hour ago.

You stared at Helen's message, your heart racing. This could be your chance to set the record straight, to have someone with real influence at Nexus hear your side of the story. But doubt crept in - what if Helen had already made up her mind? What if she believed Amilla's version of events? Amilla was the one she’d hired as a director.

"Well?" Gus prompted, his eyes bright with anticipation. "Are you going to message her back?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Yes, I am."

With trembling fingers, you typed out a reply:

YOU: I'm available now if you are. Where would you like to meet?

The response came almost immediately:

HELEN: Meet me in the hotel lobby in 15 minutes.

You showed the others the message, a mix of hope and apprehension swirling in your stomach.

"This is good," Maggie said reassuringly. "Helen knows you, she'll listen to your side of the story."

“And if not, I’m serious about making you an offer,” Claude reiterated. 

“Do not accept anything from him until you speak with me though,” Maggie said. “I’ve been wanting to start my own think tank, and I came to the conference this year specifically to scope out members to flesh out my team.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Wait, really?”

Maggie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded. "Yes, really! I've been planning this for months, but I wanted to find the right people to bring on board. And after seeing you in action this week, I'm more convinced than ever that you'd be perfect for what I have in mind."

You felt a rush of warmth at her words, a stark contrast to the cold dismissal you'd received from Amilla earlier. The idea of working with Maggie, of being part of something new and innovative, was incredibly appealing.

"That's... wow, Maggie. I don't know what to say," you stammered, genuinely touched by her offer.

Maggie's smile widened. "Say you'll have dinner with me tonight so we can discuss it properly. I've got a reservation at this charming little restaurant I discovered last time I was in Paris.”

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, that would be perfect! Thank you." And then you said it again with more softness and warmth, looking at each of them. “Thank you. I don't know how I would have gotten through this day without your support.”

You felt so much gratitude for these people who believed in you, even in the face of this disaster - Maggie who had known while during your graduate pursuit, Gus who had worked along side you since you started at Nexus, and Claude who’d only known you a few days but had apparently been watching your career over the past year.

As you stood to leave, Claude reached out and gently touched your arm. "Remember, regardless of what happens with Helen, you have options. Amilla's actions will not define your future."

You smiled, determination taking root in your gut again at his words. You had always worked hard for everything. It was just time to pick up and do it again.

With a deep breath, you set off towards the hotel, Gus at your side, your mind racing with all you'd learned and the conversation to come. The walk back seemed both too long and too short, your nerves growing with each step.

The hotel lobby bustled with conference attendees, their animated chatter creating a low hum of background noise. Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Helen's familiar face. You spotted her almost immediately. She was seated in one of the plush armchairs, her tablet in hand, looking every bit the powerful executive you remembered. When she saw you, she stood, Gus squeezed your shoulder in a show of support and good luck, and you stood a little taller as you approached the Nexus VP of Strategy and Innovation.

"Hello," she said, her voice calm and measured. "I think we need to talk.”

next chapter: coming February 17

Only two more chapters!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 4 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: this chapter is kicking my ass, y'all. that's all.

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 944 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

When you make it back to the house, you can’t break off from the group fast enough. You don’t mean to be rude, but fuck. You need a minute to process the events of the day.

In an ideal world, said processing would be done with the assistance of your best friend. That’s what Yoongi and Yijeong do, right?

Once you make it inside the house, you make a beeline for the swing out back, phone already tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you slide the patio door open. It rings once, twice, before the call is declined altogether.

SuckJin: You’re joking right?

Right.

Too bad your best friend is a traitorous snake who prioritizes his medical career over being at your constant beck and call.

You: i need to talk to you!!!!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: Are you dying

You: no?????

SuckJin: Great

SuckJin: Nothing I can’t help with over text then

You: in case i don’t tell you enough, you are the fucking worst

You: just so you know

With a groan, you plop onto the swing, thumbs tapping wildly at your phone screen as you try your best to put words to what exactly you’re feeling right now. A task that proves impossible, since you’re not really sure yourself.

You: your worst mistake as my best friend is sitting idly by and allowing me to remain celibate since kihyun and i broke up. what’s happening right now is all your fault actually

You: because now that my JK-related feelings are waning i’m convinced i would fuck absolutely anyone in my current state. that HAS to be what’s going on because there is NO other explanation for my behavior these past few days

You: I CHECKED OUT MIN YOONGI’S ASS!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: LOL

SuckJin: How was it

Why does the universe hate you so? What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve a best friend so devoid of empathy? You should’ve listened to your gut back in middle school, when it told you to steer clear of the weird, egotistical theatre kid with the bowl cut.

You: NOT the point you freak

SuckJin: What is in the air in Jeju lol

SuckJin: Maybe u two just need to bang it out

What the fuck!

You feel the heat flood your cheeks in an instant, indignantly typing what is sure to be a complete disembowelment of your best friend, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening stops you in your tracks.

It’s Yoongi. Of course it is.

Cigarettes in hand, he crosses the garden until he reaches the swing. Instead of joining you, though, he leans against one of the supports, holding the opened pack out to you in offering.

“No, thanks,” you cheep, stuffing your phone in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you will the flush in your cheeks to die. Seokjin deserves to be left on read for his crimes.

Yoongi shrugs, patting his pockets in search of a lighter. When he finds it, you watch the warm glow illuminate his face as he brings it to the end of his cigarette and inhales deeply.

You feel so far out of your depth here. It’s Yoongi’s house, Yoongi’s garden—even if you’ve staked your claim on this swing since the night you arrived, everything you’ve helped yourself to here belongs to him. Jeongguk included.

Yoongi is well within his rights to have a cigarette wherever he pleases. You just didn’t think he’d prefer to have one here, with you.

“You looked like you had fun today,” Yoongi says, the low hum of his voice effectively breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I did…” You shift positions on the swing restlessly, unfolding your legs and wincing as you stretch them out in front of you. “You looked like you had fun, too,” you offer.

“Mm.”

Talkative as ever, this guy. You guess it’s up to you to keep the conversation going.

“You looked goofy in that hat, though,” you add, your lips quirking up at the corners faster than you can stop it.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that. “Yeah? Maybe I should give it to you, then, dollface. You’re the model, after all.”

Dollface.

He keeps calling you that, doesn’t he? He called you that the first night you met. He must mean it as an insult, an implication that your looks are all you have going for you. That’s how it felt the first few times, at least.

Still, you can’t help but notice that this is the longest conversation you and Yoongi have had since your fight last week. You’re both being so shockingly peaceable, you can’t help but comment on it.

“So… I had fun, you had fun,” you mumble, lazily kicking your feet to push the swing back and forth. “Crazy concept that you and I can have fun in the presence of each other.”

“Crazy.”

“You can admit the truce was a good idea. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you were wrong.”

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow drag of his cigarette as he considers you. You shrink, pinned as his eyes scan over your face for so long it feels unbearable.

And then he’s moving, cigarette tumbling to the ground as his shoe stubs out the orange glow. Hands swiping ash off of denim. Your eyes track each movement against your will, until you shake yourself out of it and stare at your shoes instead.

“We’ll see.”

There’s the squeak of the sliding door, and then your only company is the smell of smoke and your phone buzzing in your pocket.

✧ TAGLIST:

@kkaetnipjeon @ktownshizzle @joonary @jajabro @pitchblack0309 

@ot72025 @futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @wobblewobble822 

@this-most-assuredly-counts @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @sugafun @whoa-jo @amarawayne 

@kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7 @notsevenwithyou

@perfctlyunstable @yoonmetogether @kpophosblog @chimmchimmm @nnybtitts08

@itsmina29 @sophia--915 @jeanjacketjesus @kiki-zb @velvetskize

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@jalexad @daskewl @rebloginfics @ennvfv @curse-of-art

@tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @broken-glowsticks @bontensbabygirl

@silencionyx @dropdeadbec @lilifiedeans @darklyceremonials

[wrathofrats]

Maybe a little nightmare hurt comfort between New summon Phantom and someone?

Yeah i desperately need some comfort and fluff rn have this

500 words of ifrit comforting phantom after a nightmare

“Bug?” Ifrit opened his door with a yawn, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes before haphazardly shoving his glasses onto his face.

“Is it a bad time? I can go, I'm sorry-“ phantoms gaze was fixed on the floor. His voice was audibly shaky, clearly spooked or nervous just based on how he picked at his fingernails.

“No no! What’s up? Whatcha need?”

Ifrit bent down a bit to be eye level with phantom, hand on his shoulder as he tried to study him to find out what was wrong. He was the sleepy kind of warm, the kind of soft someone is when they just wake up.

“It’s stupid- I’m sorry I woke you I’ll just go back to bed”

There was a certain look in phantoms eyes that ifrit recognized. Flecks of white and purple with his pupils dilated as if he had seen a ghost. Aether used to get like that when he was first summoned. Nightmares of the pits combined with the harsh quintessence on his body made for many sleepless nights that ifrit was more than happy to accompany him on.

“Come here, if you’re going back to bed you can at least stay with me tonight” the door opened a bit more for ifrit to usher phantom inside. It smelled of gasoline and whatever nice cologne zephyr made him wear, something industrial but comforting in a way only a fire ghoul could be.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I could use the warmth, I get cold at night sometimes” ifrit joked, pulling phantom to collapse with him in his heap of blankets. A collection of pillows and various throw blankets on the side furthest from the door with a couple small feathers stuck to the sheets. Ifrits side of the bed was much more barren. A beaten to death old comforter that looked like the coziest thing in the world combined with a singular pillow.

Phantom sunk into ifrits side, pulling some of the extra blankets to cover him as he melted into ifrits warmth. He could hear him take off his glasses and fumble to put them in the case on his bedside table.

“Did you want to talk about it phantom? Aether used to wake me up to talk, just to convince himself it wasn’t real.” His hand carded through phantoms hair

“How did you know?”

“You had the same look in your eye. I’d talk to aether and omega about it, god knows those insomniacs aren’t hard to find”

Phantom snorted. It was true, both of them were chronic workaholics most of the time. Late hours spent doing extra blood tests and checking on patients in the infirmary. They’d always offered for phantom to join them, maybe he would have to take that offer.

“I’ll be ok, just shaken up”

“And you needed a big strong ghoul to keep you safe?”

“No, the air conditioner in my room was just too high”

Ifrit chuckled, pulling phantom closer to him

“Goodnight baby bat”

[truefandemonium]

Haha I have no patience had to get this second part out. Enjoy! 🫰✨ @i-think-youre-a-work-of-art @heavenlyraindrops

********************************

Princess and the Pills (pt 2/?)

Thanos x Fem!reader, angst, fluff, cuddling, literal sleeping together, slow burn, drug use, language, violence (its squid game come on) { pt. 1 }

*✨*✨*✨*

Sleep calls to you, it feels like from beyond a grave waiting for your body to finally lie down and shut your eyes forever.

But you settle for Thanos’s bunk as he beckons with an exaggerated wave, jogging the last few steps to meet you. “Hey, jagiya,” he greets you, his brows bouncing above his pitch black eyes. He’s still riding high on his last dose.

“… Am I still welcome with you guys?” you ask, full of angst that you know is spilling out and looking like a weakness to every other player here.

Thanos’ jaw drops. “Are you fucking JOKING?” he barks, making you wince. “Hell yeah!” He pumps one fist in the air and cheers, “Princess in the palace now, bitches! Woo!” He grabs your hand and tugs you after him, letting go to crawl into the bed and kick Nam-gyu hard in the spine.

“Ow, shit,” the younger man hisses, whirling. “What was that for?”

“Princess gets the bed,” Thanos growls, and the way they face off reminds you of two junkyard dogs fighting over scraps. “Off.”

Nam-gyu bristles before shoving off with a huff, settling back down on the steps and glowering at you as you replace him on the mattress. Across from Thanos, you sit with your knees up to your chest, mirroring his stance.

Something seems odd about him after he settles in, his eyes falling to a space far away and over your shoulder, gaze unfocused and honed in at the same time. His lips part slightly, his chest rising and falling a little too fast to be normal, and Nam-gyu finally pokes his arm, asking, “Hey bro, you good?”

Thanos doesn’t look at him, a heaviness in his eyes that makes you feel sick as he brushes the touch away. “M’fine,” he grunts, his fingers coming up to wipe at the dried blood littering his face.

“You sure?” Nam-gyu asks, his eyes wide and worried.

“Uh huh,” Thanos hums, his gaze falling again. Concern grips you, and you risk getting a bit closer, crawling over to reach him. He seems to finally break out of his stupor at your proximity, confusion clouding his face until you sit at his side and lean into his warmth, and the expression changes to pure surprise.

You’re thankful he doesn’t make a move on you, just content to sit together, the bliss of simple human contact in a cold, cold, terrifying world.

You fall asleep there, wondering what the next game will be. And which one of you will die first.

…

You awake before anyone else, to an incessant nuzzling against your neck, and you tense, eyes opening slowly and fearfully. But rather than what you expected, like the barrel of a gun or someone’s cold hand ready to choke you— you shift your head to blink down at the mop of purple hair tickling your chin.

Thanos has tucked his face into the crook of your neck at some point during the night, one arm slung over your torso as he snores softly against your skin. You suck in a careful breath, afraid that any movement may scare him off. Why let him stay here? I should boot him out of the bunk for his audacity…

But you don’t. You don’t want to. Instead, you stay perfectly still and close your eyes again, breathing slow and letting yourself bask in the warmth this man offers.

Until he snorts suddenly, a gentle little sound that leaves a huff of warm breath beneath your ear and he lifts his head lazily at the sound of music and the bright lights flashing on.

You pretend to be asleep, keeping still and eyes closed as he pulls his head back from your skin, retreating back from your body and removing his arm from your chest.

You don’t see the way his eyes well with longing before they flash with guilt, gaze lingering on your parted lips and sleeping form. The way his painted fingers hover for a moment over the soft rising and falling of your belly with each breath, the temptation to hold you starting to make him shake.

You stretch, then, opening your eyes again and Thanos turns quickly away, rubbing his face hard as Nam-gyu falls out of the bunk above you.

With a wail, he lands on his hip on the steps, back arching painfully as he lies there for a few seconds, Thanos bursting into raucous laughter.

“Fuck, bro! You okay?” he cackles as Nam-gyu moans.

You roll your eyes, not quite as concerned as you probably should be for your now so-called ‘teammate’, and scoot to the edge of the bunk, still trying to calm your heart from the earlier scare of finding Thanos nestled atop you.

Speaking of… you glance over to see him looking at Nam-gyu with a smirk, blinking sleep from his sparkly eyes and scratching at his neck, fingers dragging over the tattoo that disappears under his tracksuit.

You tamp down the warmth bubbling in your chest at the residual sensation of his arm across your body— the weight so palpable in your mind you can almost feel it if you close your eyes and try. But you don’t. You won’t.

“What happened?” you ask the man still lying on the metal steps, his body now curled in on itself.

“Mmph— fuck off,” Nam-gyu mewls, and Thanos kicks him lightly in the butt, his brows pulling down as his lips purse.

“Hey, Princess asked you a question, dick-head, chill out,” he grits out, and Nam-gyu sits up to cower away from Thanos’ foot.

“Whatever,” the boy scoffs, his tired face set in a scowl. “I move a lot when I sleep, bitch, they should have guard rails on these things.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh in disbelief. “They do.”

Thanos and Nam-gyu simultaneously look up to see you’re in fact correct, and Thanos practically screams, “You DUMBASS!”

“Just shut up,” Nam-gyu mutters, hiding his face in his sleeve-covered hands. You yield, but not before sharing a look of amusement with Thanos that makes you blush.

That morning you get no meal, only left to fend for yourself (sit around) until you’re summoned by the prophet (that psycho 456) with new orders and warnings for the upcoming game.

“Pick triangle?” Thanos is scoffing, his eyes clouded in a way that makes your skin prickle with unease. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Dalgona,” 456 repeats in a growl, his brow furrowed and gaze dark as he catches Thanos’ comment. “It’s going to be hard no matter what, but triangle is the easiest shape, I promise.”

Thanos shifts his weight from foot to foot, clearing his throat hard and not meeting your eye as he crosses his arms. You narrow your eyes in confusion and move until you’re in front of him.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask him discreetly, not missing the way Nam-gyu sidles up to listen in.

Thanos sniffs, jutting his chin upward, his eyes flicking hesitantly to yours and away again as if he’s afraid you’ll see something there if you look for too long.

“Nothin’,” he lies blatantly, the fear obvious in his clenched fists hidden under his arms. “Just sounds like a stupid shit game.”

“What?” Nam-gyu chuckles, approaching from behind and brushing his arm against Thanos, who pulls away. “Never had dalgona before?” He wrinkles his nose in a way that makes you want to punch it, and you hope that his fall from the top bunk left a mark.

Thanos growls, lip curling as he bares his teeth like a dog and whirls. “No, and so fucking what?” Thanos hisses, uncrossing his arms to shove Nam-gyu hard in the forehead with two fingers. “Babies suck on dalgona, bitch.”

Nam-gyu glares, blinking rapidly and backing up. “Fuck, I was just asking, dude.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Thanos says with a shake of his head.

You step a little closer and watch Thanos’s eyes widen, falling first on your body and then your face, his pale cheeks suddenly dusted in a soft pink. “Hey,” you whisper, shooting a glower so dark in Nam-gyu’s direction he takes another step back. “Don’t worry about this, you’re gonna do fine. A lot of kids never had dalgona…”

He

It’s a lie and you know it— it’s such an age old tradition you’re thoroughly shocked that he’s never tried it. Thanos just clenches his jaw, eyes flickering fearfully, something deep in his gaze that tells you it’s been there for a long, long time.

“Yeah, my dad never let me play it with my friends,” he says, grimacing as if it’s more of an annoying memory than a tragic one. “Dumb drunk said it’d kill me, he didn’t even want it in the house.” His eyes narrow as he jerks a finger at 456. “Talked like this guy, too. Come home after drinking to tell us they were watchin’ him, ‘put bugs in his head.’” Thanos snorts and shakes his head again, closing his eyes gently for a second and making your stomach twist. “Crazy bastard.”

You feel a twinge of something — a wondering that lingers for a second before flitting away.

As you’re all led to the next game, Thanos’ hand finds your tracksuit pants pocket, finger slipping inside to cling as the two of you walk side by side up the narrow stairway. It’s a small comfort; knowing he’s there. Knowing that if he goes down, you will too.

[hotdilfs11]

⊹ ˚.⊹ ˚.intoxicated hearts (pt 1)

♡pairings: Dean Winchester x fem reader

♡ summary: You and the Winchester boys are on a hunt for this mysterious creature no one knows about. This monster ends up giving Dan and I a attraction/love poison. You guys cant resist each other after infected.

♡ warnings: cursing, a little spicy

♡ word count: 1318

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

During the weekend of Valentine's Day, there's a small town in Oklahoma that is suffering from a love poison. Two people get poisoned, and they either die from resisting attraction to each other or they act on how they feel and end up killing each other out of jealousy. This poison makes you have little to no self-control over your attraction. Sam, Dean, and I are investigating some of the victims but came up with nothing. After interviewing our last victims, we walked back to the car, unclear of what we were dealing with. I swung the door open of Dean's beautiful Impala and hopped in the backseat. “I honestly don’t know what the hell this is, guys,” I sigh with frustration.

Sam turned around to look at me. “Maybe we should keep looking,” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah…I mean, I called Bobby; he said he dealt with this a long time ago, but he forgot what it was and how to kill it. He said if we run into it, just try silver bullets or wipe its head off clean.” They both looked at each other and nodded their heads as Dean's car roared to life.

We found an old, janky motel on the outskirts of the town we are investigating. The room was semi big with a vintage brown couch, a table, two queen beds, and a TV. Everything looked so grey and sad. Nothing brings the room to life but the lingering smell of cigarettes that stung my nose. We all dropped our bags on the floor. “Home sweet home,” Dean jokes. I gave him a fake chuckle.

We start our research, and there's nothing that fits the description of this monster. All of our heads are deep in a book; however, everything around me started spinning. I couldn’t focus anymore, and all of these words started to become too much. I felt dizzy and lightheaded the harder I tried to concentrate. “I can’t do this anymore,” I groaned. I got up and put on my faded leather jacket; the familiar scent of leather hung around my nose. 

“I need a drink; you guys want to—” 

“Yes, please,” Dean said quickly, practically begging me to take him with me.

The chimes of Dean's keys and the rustle of his coat echoed through the room as he approached the door.

“Are you coming, Sammy?” he says, already out of the door.

Sam furrowed his brows. “no… I'm going to keep doing some research to see what I can find.” 

Dean shrugged his shoulders as we left the motel. 

Dean and I found this bar that was about twenty-five minutes away from the motel. The mood was dark and warm. The bar counter was crafted with polished wood that had high bar stools sitting underneath the counter waiting for them to be used. Dean and I walked towards the barstools as the bartender approached us, wiping her hands on this raggedy white cloth.

“What can I get you guys?”

Dean ordered a beer, and I ordered a bourbon neat; however, the bartender interjects and offers us the special. “It’s a really refreshing drink, and you can barely taste the alcohol,” she said with a slight smile.

Dean glanced at me, who nodded in agreement. “Sure, we'll take it.”

 We sat in the bar for a while, taking a sip of our bittersweet drink. It tasted weird at first, but I got used to the fiery yet sweet liquid that ran down my throat. 

After finishing our drinks, Dean and I got back in the Impala and went back to the motel. We sped down the dark highway with the sharp, commanding snarl that sent vibrations through the whole car. I started to fidget in my seat. It’s so hot for some reason I thought to myself, checking the vents for hot air; however, I felt nothing but the AC blasting on my hand. Anxiously I whisper, “Dean…” My skin prickled with warmth. “I feel so… hot all of a sudden.” I looked at Dean with worry on my face. Dean looks at me. “Yeah…I do too; we're almost at the hotel.” He says in a husky voice. I felt a sense of attraction to him. His voice sounded so deep and seductive that I couldn’t control the arousal that flooded my body. His smell and his broad features clouded my mind for the car ride. I got hotter and uncomfortable every second I was in the car with him. My mind was lustful.

When we got back to the motel, I grabbed my PJs and quickly got in the shower. I thought a cold shower would calm my senses down, but it just made me feel so much worse. I felt like I was set on fire with need the longer I thought about Dean. I hopped out of the shower and put on a pair of shorts and one of Dean's band tees. Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door to discover Dean shirtless on the couch watching a movie on Sam's computer. My eyes danced around his body, feeling a fiery sensation leak all over my body. My knees grew weaker the longer I looked at his perfectly sculpted body.

Dean's eyes were heavily fixated on my body, noticing his shirt that I'm wearing. I sank on the couch beside him. “I think something's wrong,” I frowned. 

“Yeah, it’s hot as hell in here.”

“No…” I softly said as I took out my phone and dialed Sam's number. Sam answered.“Hey, where are you? Did you find something yet? 

“Yeah…I went to go interview one of the victims and found out that all of the victims went to this bar and ordered the same drink special.”

I looked at Dean, concerned and confused. “Which bar did they go to?”

“Uhhh…it’s twenty-five minutes from the motel, actually.”  -

My heart stopped. “Damn it Sam, we drank the special today.”

“Shit, okay, this monster is like Cupid on crack, meaning that he’s easy to kill.” Sam chuckled, “Just hold on, you two, and don’t…you know.”

“Yeah, we won’t.” 

I decided to watch the movie with Dean on the couch, trying to take my mind off of this filthy attraction towards him. I felt like I had no self-control, and neither did Dean. His presence pulled me closer and closer to him, feeling his rough fingertips brush against my thigh, trailing down to my knee. My pulse quickened, and my body shifted. I felt like he was touching every nerve in my body. I whimpered softly as his hand grew closer to my inner thigh. I need to snap out of it. I thought to myself.

“Fuck,” I groaned, pushing his hand away. “N…no.” I resisted. 

I got up in a swift motion and traveled to the far end of the motel room; however, I already felt his presence come up behind me. I turned around to look at him, but he was already slamming me against the wall. He placed his hands on my hips, trailing up my shirt, lifting it up halfway, feeling his warm yet rough hands tracing along my waist. Every touch feels like I was on fire. “Dean, we ca…can’t.” My voice cracked; I couldn't even spit out a full sentence. 

He groaned, “Seeing you in my shirt does something to me, Y/N.” He tightened his grip on my hips; his soft lips desperately collided with mine as my fingers ran through his dark brown hair. Whimpers came out of our mouths when I tried to gasp for air, but he still leaned in, not wanting me to escape. Wet, sloppy kisses started to tickle down my neck. I yanked his hair. “God, I need you so bad,” he moaned. Without hesitation Dean lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the bed.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

[itsnesss]

𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 | kang dae-ho ( player 388) × fem!reader

summary | you form an unexpected bond with daeho. amid growing danger, his quiet strength and subtle affection offer a fleeting sense of safety

warnings | violence, death, survival themes, psychological tension

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the guards' boots echoing against the polished floor fills the enormous dormitory. It’s a constant reminder of where you are, of what’s at stake. You try to ignore it as you settle against the wall, arms crossed over your chest, eyes fixed on the floor.

Tonight’s dinner was scarce. A piece of hard bread and a bottle of water. You know what that means: another long and dangerous night.

The air is heavy with anxiety, hunger, and fear. You can feel it in every breath, in every movement of the players around you. Some have learned to move silently, like shadows between the rows of beds. Others, too exhausted or desperate, have stopped caring about noise.

In the distance, a tense murmur fills the room. You can’t make out the words, but the tone is clear—whispers of discussions, improvised strategies, veiled threats. Some players have already realized that this place is not just a test of physical endurance but also a psychological battle.

Poor fools.

"Don't fall asleep too early."

Dae-ho’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You lift your gaze and see him sitting in front of you, one arm resting on his bent knee. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes never stop scanning the room. You don’t know him well, but you’ve noticed he moves as if he’s always on alert, measuring everyone around him.

"I wasn’t planning to," you murmur.

He nods, as if he already knew the answer.

From the first night here, you've learned that alliances form quickly, and those without one become easy targets. Not that you and Dae-ho are officially allies, but something about his presence makes you feel a little less vulnerable.

"How long do you think this will last?" you ask.

Dae-ho runs a hand through his dark hair before answering.

"I don’t know. But the food is running low, and the nights are getting more violent. I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to reduce our numbers before the next announcement."

You press your lips together. It’s what you feared.

It’s only been three days since you arrived, and you’ve already seen more deaths than you can count. Most not even in the games, but here, in this dormitory, where the lights never fully go out, and improvised knives slip through the shadows.

You're not sure what terrifies you more—the games or the people you share this room with.

A dense silence settles between you two. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not comforting either.

"Were you always this pessimistic?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Dae-ho lets out a short laugh, void of humor.

"I'm not pessimistic. I just like to be prepared."

"For what?"

"For the worst."

You can’t help but notice that his answer isn’t just about this game.

In the distance, a group of players is arguing in hushed voices. You recognize a few: Kang, a burly man who has already proven he has no qualms about killing; Jisoo, a sharp-featured woman who is always watching, waiting for the right moment.

You feel Jisoo’s gaze on you for a moment before she looks away.

"They’re going to do something tonight," you say, not taking your eyes off the group.

Dae-ho follows your gaze and nods.

"I know."

"Are we going to do something about it?"

"No."

You frown.

"Why not?"

"Because it’s not our problem yet."

His tone is calm, but something about his words irritates you.

"And when will it be? When it’s too late?"

Dae-ho turns his head and studies you carefully.

"Listen," he says quietly. "We can’t save everyone. We can’t stop what’s going to happen here. We can only make sure it doesn’t happen to us."

Your instinct tells you that you should agree with him. Empathy is a luxury you can’t afford.

But you haven’t learned to turn it off completely.

The night drags on. A constant murmur fills the room, along with the occasional sound of someone moving between beds. You know violence could erupt at any moment.

Dae-ho remains by your side, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the crowd. He hasn’t said anything in a while.

"Are you forcing yourself to stay awake for me?" you ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer immediately.

"Maybe."

You frown.

"You don’t have to."

"I know."

But he doesn’t move.

You don’t know what to think of him. From the start, he’s kept his distance from everyone, but there are moments when you feel like he lowers his guard with you, even if only for a few seconds.

You’d like to ask him more about himself, why he’s here, what he thinks about all this. But in this place, talking too much can be dangerous.

So you stay silent.

Hours later, the neon light flickers above, casting shadows on the walls. Most players are lying down, though no one is truly asleep.

Dae-ho and you are still in the same spot.

"Were you always this quiet?" you ask suddenly.

He shrugs.

"Only when there’s not much to say."

"There has to be something." You look at him with curiosity. "What did you do before this?"

Dae-ho shoots you a warning look but then sighs.

"I was a marine."

Your eyebrow arches.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"And what happened?"

"Life happened."

That answer could mean many things, but you don’t press him.

However, he continues on his own.

"I thought I could handle everything. That I had control." He runs a hand over his face. "But the truth is, I never did."

His confession catches you off guard. It’s not something you expected to hear from him.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

Dae-ho remains silent for a moment.

"Because you’re the first person here who doesn’t ask expecting a lie."

You don’t know what to say.

In this place, people only care about others when they can gain something in return.

But you don’t want anything from him.

And maybe that’s why he feels comfortable talking.

Before you can say anything else, a scream cuts through the air.

Both of you turn your heads in the same direction.

The fight has begun.

Dae-ho grabs your arm and pulls you against him, shielding you with his body when someone stumbles too close.

His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers,

"Stay with me."

His closeness makes your heart pound faster, not just from the danger but from something else.

Before you can think too much about it, he tilts his head toward you and brushes his lips against your forehead.

It’s a brief gesture, almost imperceptible, but you feel it in every part of your body.

After that, there’s no time to think.

[write-here-n-now]

"saved from the law"

⤷ C.(s) Park Sunghoon x Reader ⤷ WC. 553

⤷ Part of: "the dangerous games we play"

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

You’re running as fast as you can through the federal agency, after receiving a call from one of the other lawyers about agents suddenly bursting into Sunghoon’s office and arresting him. 

You finally reach the office they’re holding in, bursting in, making everyone stop dead in their tracks, Sunghoon smirks, knowing what's to come. 

As you catch your breath, you see a pleasantly pleased Sunghoon seated at a table, hands cuffed behind his back as agents and attorneys surround him.

“Uncuff my client…” you request, once you have enough air to form proper words. 

“Miss Y/N! WHO let you in?” hisses Attorney Choi—bane of your existence and Sunghoon’s—clearly not thrilled at your appearance.

“My client was taken into custody, do you think I was going to sit around waiting for your invitation?” you snap as you walk past Attorney Choi to Sunghoon.

“You got here just in time, I thought I was going to have to take one of their plea deals,” jokes Sunghoon as you take a seat next to him. You would normally respond but you’re in focus mode, strategizing how to get both of you out of here quickly.

“Was I not clear the first time?” The room looks at you in silence. “The handcuffs!” You exclaim.

The agents and prosecutors are at your throat, throwing charges and deals left and right, but you rebut most of the arguments, Sunghoon beside you enjoying the spectacle.

Later, you two are still giggling as you enter the parking lot, recalling the colour drain from everyone’s faces when they realize they had more to lose by trying to mess with you.

“That was spectacular, brava,” he claps. 

“I know, I know.”

Slinging an arm across your shoulder, he pulls you closer to his side as you walk. You let your arm wrap around his waist, leaning into him.

“What would I do without you?” he asks, turning to you, his face marked by pure adoration. 

“I don’t know, be in prison,” you tease, looking back up into his eyes.

“Hmmm, maybe, maybe not” he ponders. 

You halt your steps, unwrapping yourself from his side. He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“MAYBE NOT? Park Sunghoon, you’ve begged me to come save you whenever you’ve been arrested,” you accuse.

“Shhhh, I have a mysterious image to upkeep,” he puts a finger to your lips, jokingly glancing to see if anyone heard.

“I can just go back , tell them everything and then you can charm your way out of the charges,” you offer, pointing with your thumb in the office’s direction, leaning towards the direction.

He’s quick to gather you in a hug, barring you from walking away, whispering apologies in-between little snickers at your pettiness.

“Yes yes you’re right, I would not be a free man without you.” 

He plants a quick kiss to your forehead, reaching down, he interlocks your hands while pressing his forehead to yours.

“Let’s get something to eat and then go home, yeah?” 

“You owe me a BIG fancy dinner for my hard work, Mister Park.” 

“As you wish~,” he plants another kiss, but this time to your lips.

Sure he might have almost been sent to prison a few hours ago, but right now? His favourite lawyer was in his arms—freedom had never tasted so sweet.  

❉ | Taglist: @yunthejin | ❉

[strxgxi]

Quinlan could feel Fet’s blood racing through his veins and it felt warm, like he was some newly born vampire from the movies. He’d been delicious, but this wasn’t the time to tell him that. This hadn’t been out of intimacy at all, but survival, and he was eternally grateful for his sacrifice. He’d saved his life. The gory wound on his throat had closed tight, as had the other mauling wounds from before. He wasn’t well, nowhere near a hundred as he’d taken just enough, but he was alive because of Fet.

He’d heard his heart racing in his ears and the man with the gun hadn’t phased him in the slightest. He’d had what he needed, and now he held his rather large companion in his arms. First words out of his mouth was a joke, and it managed to tear the tension in the air, the dhampir letting out a breathless laugh. “ I’ll make it. “ He paused. “ Because of you. “ And with a soft purr, uncaring of those around them as he leaned down and nuzzled his face and nose into his like he was some great cat.

“ We need to get out of here. “ He looked up at the rest of the crew. “ Salvage what we can from the vehicles. Regroup, go to your camps. “ Quinlan and Fet were still camped out in that abandoned house not too far from here. With one fluid push he moved to his feet, but Fet remained in his arms. He knew the fool couldn’t walk if he tried right now. “ Hold onto me. “ He smiled down at him with his eyes, and began their exit from the woods.

Thankfully the vehicles weren’t too far, but when they arrived their supplies were thrown everywhere. One of them had its tires completely shredded and would need spares. Their van had been cleaned out of blood, the now empty bags splattered around the vehicle, some of their weapons taken apart, some damage here and there. He carried Fet all the way to it, and if he protested he simply ignored him. Carla opened a door for him, and he gently placed Fet down in the passengers seat. A quick glance around, a fast movement there and back, and he was with him again, offering him one of the Twix candy bars from earlier. “ Eat this. You need to raise your blood sugar. “

The only thing that mattered before was killing the Master, but now.. something else mattered to him far more. Fet mattered, his safety mattered Quinlan couldn’t have kept going if something terrible had happened to him. He’d lost too much. He couldn’t stand to lose one more precious thing that he had gained.

“ Don’t cry.. “ He weakly lifted a hand, feeling his face. His other hand was holding his own neck, trying his best to keep what white he had in. There was no doctor that could help him. Well. Goodweather had helped him before, but he had a completely different biology than any human or strigoi. He was the rarest creature on this planet.

Offering his blood gave him pause. He’d been longing to drink it, to taste it, but in much happier circumstances. He never even knew if Fet would truly let him, but he’d seemed so interested in it before. He practically ogled him like a starving dog whenever he saw his stinger. But right now.. “ I can’t.. “ He started to say, but he changed his mind. “ — argue with you. I’ll take just enough.. “ He reassured, softly caressing his face. Baby. He’d called him baby.

Before another word could be said, his tongue unfolded and his stinger shot out of his mouth, latching firmly to Fet’s throat. Fet hated strigoi, but he was a half breed. He knew how much he really loved him to even offer such a thing. Hungrily he pulled blood from him, tasting his delicious blood, and in it he could taste all of Fet. He was like a mulled wine, sweet but earthy, and it was divine, but he couldn’t take too much. He mentally scolded himself not to, despite that animal need to drain him dry. He’d take a pint, the amount of blood you’d donate, and hunt later.

As he drank, he could feel that wound on his own neck already regenerating. It wasn’t just a small cut like a normal strigoi, because the mongrel was vicious. Those damn things ripped you apart. He was hungry.. so hungry.. but he couldn’t drink more.. maybe a pint and a half just so he could get off the ground. He’d have to hunt later. As some of his strength regained, he moved to pull himself up, the situation in the snow reversing as now his arms came around Fet, holding him close. He took his fill of him, pulling back his stinger slowly into his mouth. He just hoped Fet was all right.

[scarlettriot]

Hello, I’m here to drop off a super fast thought about my favorite redhead ♥︎

Eiji, the same man who can (and will) bend you in half with no effort at all, toss you around like you weigh no more than a loaf of bread, have you screaming his name in no time flat, that man…

Yeah, he also has to sleep with a cpap because he just casually forgets to breathe while sleeping sometimes.

Cute husband things, ya know.

[almadelsur]

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken. 

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

[sunderwight]

Modern AU where Shen Yuan accidentally sugar-daddies everyone.

So for the purposes of this, Shen Yuan's family is basically $10 Bananas levels of cluelessly rich. Shen Yuan has almost never had to look at the prices of anything he wants. He and his siblings all get an allowance from the family's main account, which increases when they reach adulthood, and in the interest of fairness his parents made it all the same size. So Shen Yuan gets the same amount of money for his daily living expenses as his older brothers with their penthouse apartments and vacation homes and private jets, at least from the family account (since he doesn't work, he doesn't actually make as much as them in total because they earn more on top of their allowances).

And the thing is, Shen Yuan genuinely just lives a lot more humbly. He likes people but what would he do with a vacation house? Anything really nice would probably require him to fly to get out there, and he gets sick as hell on planes. Living in the central city is also not great for him, because the air pollution is so bad. Having a whole house to himself would also be ridiculous. So he has a reasonable apartment, in a reasonable area, and he splurges every so often on purchases that make him happy and take-out food that he likes, and of course he pays a cleaning service to come in twice a week. Most people assume he's comfortably middle class and has some tech job he does from home, but he's been getting a lot more than he's been spending in his monthly allowances for years now, and the figures are big.

Enter into this environment author Airplane and his trash novels. Novels, multiple, because in this AU there's no PIDW, and instead after some alternate PIDW prototype got popular in the harem genre, Airplane decided to churn out a series of copy-paste shorter stories rather than recycling the same subplots in one massively long epic.

Shen Yuan of course discovers Airplane's writing and becomes as obsessed with it as ever, except this time he notices that if there are delays between new stories, they seem to clear up faster whenever he throws some cash at the problem. And also that the drops in Airplane's writing quality coincide with times when Shen Yuan was having health issues and not keeping up with his VIP purchases. So, he works out that Airplane's probably doing the writing for the money, and that when Peerless Cucumber isn't paying the most for it, Airplane starts listening to the other buffoons in the comment section more to try and entice them to pay his bills instead.

Peerless Cucumber leaves a comment on one of Airplane's latest stories that kicks off the two of them actually chatting, and Shen Yuan eventually gets to the point of offering to fund all Airplane's writing, in exchange for Airplane not doing his crap sellout stuff to appeal to other readers anymore. Airplane thinks he's joking or maybe mocking him. Shen Yuan asks how much it would cost. Airplane fires off a ridiculous number. Shen Yuan doesn't even blink and wires him the first payment. Then he gets annoyed because Airplane leaves him on read for a while, but that's because Airplane is staring at his account balance in shock.

Of course, it's Airplane who starts referring to Peerless Cucumber as his sugar daddy. Shen Yuan is just like "based on your sex scenes I don't think anyone would pay you for that" and Airplane's all "but you WOULD pay for my sex scenes ^_~" and Shen Yuan's like "technically I am actually paying you not to write that shit" and so on. Usual banter. The quality of Airplane's writing improves dramatically, a lot of his readership drops off but he does get new readers and gradually builds up an even bigger fanbase than before, and so on, it all goes pretty well. He eventually writes a few things that take off to the point of getting physical publications and international translations. Technically Airplane no longer needs Shen Yuan to pay all of his bills by that point but he's not going to tell Shen Yuan that! The contract's still good as long as he keeps writing!

Then one of Airplane's online acquaintances runs into some financial trouble and asks for help.

Liu Mingyan used to beta read for Airplane back when he wrote fanfiction (she was like thirteen, Airplane was unaware because internet and hey free beta), and it seems her family has hit a rough patch. She wants tips on how to go pro, but Airplane explains that it was extremely difficult and he mostly lucked out by finding a single wealthy backer. Mingyan wonders if the same guy would be interested in her writing, Airplane sadly thinks not because Mingyan exclusively writes kinky danmei erotica and Peerless Cucumber seems pretty firmly in the closet still and also generally prefers plotty and world-building heavy stuff.

But like, Airplane has definitely gotten a vibe off of Cucumber-bro, and Mingyan's gorgeous older brother does video streams of himself doing cool martial arts and swordsmanship stuff. So he asks her permission and when she gives it, he recommends Liu Qingge's videos to Shen Yuan, being sure to mention that the guy in question can't really afford to keep up with his hobbies and oh what a shame it would be if he had to stop making art like that.

Haha, Airplane, you're not subtle.

Even so, Shen Yuan watches the videos and immediately agrees that Liu Qingge is beauty in motion, and that it would be criminal to deprive the world of more videos of his sword. Swordsmanship! That is the, the art of, martial arts! Definitely. He clicks the donate button, reasoning out that he'll just send a donation about the size of his usual monthly payments to Airplane and call it his good deed for the day.

Liu Qingge is very confused by this new follower from nowhere who suddenly dumped a little over a month's rent into his account. One thing leads to another, with Mingyan and Airplane conspiring to try and get Shen Yuan as a permanent patron, and then Liu Qingge being let in on it. Except that Airplane keeps referring to Shen Yuan as his sugar daddy, and well... it's not like Liu Qingge doesn't ever get 'those' kinds of comments on his videos. At first he's embarrassed, then offended, then mortified that his own younger sister is apparently setting him up to make premium private videos for what he assumes is some old pervert who is going to want him to do untoward things.

However, their options are pretty bleak at the moment, and Liu Qingge worries that if he doesn't do this then Mingyan might. She even mentions something to the effect of having planned to offer herself, and only didn't because she wasn't this "sugar daddy" guy's type!

Teeth clenched, Liu Qingge asks Airplane stiltedly for advice on how to... appeal, to this wealthy benefactor.

In the end though it's not nearly as bad as Liu Qingge feared. He winds up doing more videos in costumes and cosplay, which ought to have been an untenable expense, but Peerless Cucumber always ends up covering the cost of whatever he invests in plus extra. Sometimes he sends Liu Qingge stuff with a request to wear it, but so far it's just been like, badass warrior-themed or historical costumes. Nothing overtly pervy. He does some LARPing, he makes enough to start doing horseback archery again, convinces some of his good-looking peers from various clubs to spar with him, and ultimately the most risque videos he ends up doing are the ones where he demonstrates how to put on certain kinds of gear. He still locks those ones behind paid subscribers only, mostly because he feels like he's doing something illicit now, even if he used to show more skin on his older videos any time he took his shirt off.

Peerless Cucumber doesn't leave creepy comments, either. In fact he seems genuinely nice and supportive, it's hard not to like him, and so even once his situation levels out Liu Qingge decides there's not really much need to stop making videos for him. (He maybe even gets a little giddy thrill over... well, sometimes he finds it all a bit... just when he thinks about Peerless Cucumber watching him demonstrate his physical prowess and finding that alone worth... ANYWAY--)

So that goes on for a while, before Yue Qi enters the scene.

Yue Qi is the childhood friend of one of Shen Yuan's older brothers (Shen bros!) and Shen Jiu owes him a big favor for something that he won't talk about. At least he won't talk to Shen Yuan about it. But Yue Qi is also not the type to ask for help, and Shen Jiu is very bad at offering it, so when Shen Jiu gets word that Yue Qi is having some difficulties making ends meet, he tells Shen Yuan to act as the middle man. Go offer Qi-ge money, he knows you're nice he'll just accept it, and then Shen Jiu will pay the actual bill.

Well it turns out that Yue Qi doesn't just accept it, of course he sees right through it, and gently but firmly tells Shen Yuan that he's not interested in burdening Shen Jiu further than he already has. Etc, etc, stoic stiff upper lips and no proper communication all around. Shen Yuan panics because it's not working and he's also genuinely worried about Yue Qi by now, so he tries to figure out how to make it compelling and basically blurts that, well, see, the thing is that sometimes he pays men to entertain him. You know. To like. Do things, for him. So. He could also pay Yue Qi? To do something for him?

Yue Qi gets the wrong idea entirely, and at first is like, oh, no, A'Yuan, you shouldn't be paying people for that! These things should just happen organically! But Shen Yuan is very adamant that he believes in compensating people for what they do for him, it's not like he can't afford to, and it gets awkward but Yue Qi is like well he does have health problems. It's perhaps difficult for him to meet people. So then he starts worrying about Shen Yuan and all these strange men he's apparently paying for "entertainment". Does his brother know about this?

No of course Shen Jiu doesn't know! He'd hate it, and Shen Yuan doesn't want to hear about how he's doing everything wrong with his life again!

Then Shen Yuan mentions that his prior house cleaning service up and quit on him (they didn't), and if Yue Qi would like to earn fair compensation he could just come over sometimes to help instead, and Shen Yuan would pay him just to tidy up and hang out for a few hours! Which Yue Qi thinks is a fantastic idea, actually, even if Shen Yuan is only doing this because of his brother, this will give Yue Qi a chance to keep an eye on him and his so-called entertainers. Even if he sort of... ends up also being one?

Shen Yuan keeps everything above board, though his apartment always seems perfectly clean and he overpays way too much (Shen Jiu is still footing this bill after all), and Yue Qi starts to think maybe he actually is being paid for intimacy. Of a sort that they're maybe still working up to? Shen Yuan usually has a very thin face after all. He's kind of got two minds about this prospect. On the one hand, he's got his situationship with Shen Jiu, so dating his brother would be absurd. But on the other hand, it's not actually dating, and he does like Shen Yuan, and maybe if they can be good company for each other then Yue Qi won't feel so depressed and Shen Yuan won't need to hire strange men so often.

Meanwhile it's come to Shen Yuan's attention, perhaps through an offhand comment he read online somewhere, that people who are struggling financially often also struggle to "treat themselves". Because even when they have enough money to be comfortable there's often the looming specter of deprivation, and etc, so he figures he should start buying some of his dependents more treats and things. Since they might not buy them for themselves? And also he's enjoying doing this but shhh no he isn't, it's a huge hassle, he's only doing it out of basic moral decency, etc.

So like, Airplane starts getting little things that he'd put on some public wish lists, clearly sent by Peerless Cucumber. And he tells Mingyan to make a list for Liu Qingge too, and sure enough, Liu Qingge (bewildered, slightly flustered) tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with an album from a band he likes and some high-end leather polish. Ultimately settles on playing the music and wearing his nicest leather in his next video. Yue Qi starts arriving at Shen Yuan's place to be plied with his favorite coffees and to have scented candles awkwardly foisted onto him (Shen Yuan does not know what Yue Qi likes in gifts) (he buys these presents himself they're not out of Shen Jiu's pocket).

So finally Shen Yuan's parents start to notice that he's been spending a lot more than usual, and start to worry that he's either been taken in by a scam artist or is secretly dating a gold digger or has developed a drug addiction or something. But asking things directly like normal people is basically illegal in the Shen family, so they decide to hire a private investigator.

Enter Luo Binghe, a young man of humble background who is struggling to make ends meet after the untimely death of his adoptive mother, and is using his P.I. job and his online cooking videos to help pay his way through school (scholarship student). Usually his cases are more like, cyberstalking someone to find out if they're cheating on their spouse, or helping someone planning a lawsuit accumulate evidence on their corrupt employer, or other things like that. When he gets the Shen Yuan case, the idea that the Shen family's son is paying for "company" is well within his list of probable answers.

Though this one is a little... peculiar?

Mostly because Binghe can't find evidence of Shen Yuan actually getting what he would, presumably, be paying for. At first Luo Binghe just goes through the online paper trails, using the info that the Shen parents give him to figure out that Shen Yuan is paying Airplane and Swordmaster Liu (*cough*) what seem to be exorbitant prices just for trashy fiction and cosplay videos. He assumes this is a cover, that someone's actually delivering drugs or going over for "private meetings" or at least actually sending dirty videos as well, but even when he pays for Liu Qingge's VIP access it's just tutorials and such. Neither of these guys are even on any of the sites that are more lenient towards hosting explicit content. Luo Binghe's aware that kinks aren't always obviously sexual, but people don't usually pay through the nose for the kind of content they can easily find for free all over the place, either.

He digs a little more but keeps coming up empty on evidence to clarify which of the many vices the Shen family's son is actually indulging in. Which is a problem because that's the information they're paying him to find out. Plus his curiosity kind of piques as he reads Shen Yuan's seemingly quite invested comments on Airplane's writing and Liu Qingge's videos, looking to see if there's any kind of clandestine code or pattern. But near as he can tell, whatever else Shen Yuan might be getting out of these arrangements, he does genuinely like the stories and videos too? Well. Sometimes. Sometimes he's actually scathingly vitriolic towards Airplane's writing.

Luo Binghe decides that surveilling Shen Yuan himself is probably the way to go. That gets more complicated in court cases, but since the Shen parents just wants to know what's going on and aren't planning on prosecuting their son for anything, it doesn't matter as much if Luo Binghe gets information in sneaky or underhanded ways.

So, Binghe uses the account he created to access Liu Qingge's videos to chat with Shen Yuan a few times, and then recommends his own cooking channel. Shen Yuan doesn't seem too interested in cooking, so Luo Binghe makes sure to include a video that has an image of himself in his recommendation, and then films a few new videos of himself cooking with his shirtsleeves rolled up to three quarters and a few more buttons than usual unbuttoned, adopting a more flirty persona than he typically does for his shows. He takes his cues from some of Liu Qingge's more popular videos for how to be enticing bait.

It takes a few videos, but eventually Shen Yuan comments. Luo Binghe latches onto the chance to start talking to him, playing up a persona of a vulnerable young man with little means who is trying hard to make it through school, etc, and sure enough Shen Yuan seems interested. Well, most predatory people like vulnerable targets, don't they?

However... Shen Yuan just sends him a chunk of money.

Luo Binghe is confused.

Isn't he supposed to ask for something or create some kind of expectation of repayment first? But, maybe this is his approach to handling new targets. Maybe he's just trying to lull Binghe into a false sense of complacency, before he starts indicating what he wants from all of this. Luo Binghe makes sure to move the money Shen Yuan sends him into a separate account, so that if the Shen parents get angry about it then he can return it as a gesture of good faith.

But Shen Yuan just keeps sending supportive comments and donations. Eventually he leaves a comment that alludes to how badly he'd like to taste Binghe's cooking, and Binghe is like finally, but when he implies that they could perhaps meet in person and Luo Binghe could thank him for his support by making him something, Shen Yuan backs off.

Things eventually progress to the point where Luo Binghe, who is a totally normal person treating this like a totally normal job still thank you very much, is basically camping out in the bushes in front of Shen Yuan's apartment building. At some point he conscripts the aid of his weird cousin (finding his birth family was how he got into this business initially), and then almost immediately regrets it because Shen Yuan helps get Zhuzhi Lang a job doing landscaping for his building.

Why would he want Zhuzhi Lang close but not Binghe? Binghe is much handsomer! He'd make an excellent target for seduction! >:(

Anyway eventually Yue Qi catches Luo Binghe lurking around like a creeper and is like, finally, I have caught one of these suspicious men, whilst Binghe is like oh so he does have a lover, well this guy sucks and is clearly not good enough for him, and they both try and chase one another off and Shen Yuan comes home to a heated passive-aggressive-politeness war being waged in front of his apartment. Eventually he realizes the misunderstanding and calls everyone together (zoom conference? in-person meet-up?) to clarify that he is not paying any of them for "special favors", that was just Airplane being deranged about his sense of humor, and then he has no idea what to do when the prevailing response seems to be disappointment.

[kbwrites]

Found Family

synopsis: Yuji was so seamlessly integrated into your lives, a ball of sunshine in your normally quiet life. How will he react to the news that you're expecting?

⚝content: Nanami x f! reader, Yuji being your adopted son basically, a tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff, found family.

⚝wc: 1.5k

The Nanami household was usually quiet, and peaceful. Light jazz music filled the rooms, the soft notes from the record player gently floated through the air. Every detail in the house had been carefully considered, a home where Kento hoped they could build a life filled with love and serenity.

The serenity, however, was often interrupted by his pink-haired cohort.

“Seconds please (Y/N)!” Yuji beamed holding up a clean plate with a wide grin.

Kento, seated at the table with his usual composed expression, felt a warmth in his chest as we watched his dear wife and Yuji. He secretly cherished these moments, finding comfort in the young man’s lively presence. The way his laughter filled the room, the way his energy brought a spark of joy to the quiet corners—it all made Kento realize just how much he had come to love having Yuji around.

“Itadori, you’ll get sick if you eat so fast.” Kento scolds gently, earning a pout from the high schooler. You can only smile apologetically as your husband maintains his serious demeanor.

“Kento…” You chide. “Yuji’s a growing boy, he needs to eat~” You wink at Yuji as he digs into his second helping.

You were always so quick to defend the younger boy from your husband. And although it would earn a disapproving sigh, Kento couldn’t help but adore you more for it. The way you cared for Yuji as if he were you own. This was the life he had always hoped for—a beautiful home…you. It was an unspeakable joy that made every day worth living.

And the best part? The little family you had built was about to get a bit bigger.

You glance over at your husband, wondering if you should be the one to break the news to Yuji. He returns your gaze with a small smile before clearing his throat.

“Yuji,” Kento began, his voice steady. “We have… something to tell you.”

Yuji looked up from his plate, his mouth full but curiosity shining in his eyes. You reached for Kento’s hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze as you shared a tender smile. The moment felt perfect, filled with the quiet anticipation of the next chapter of your lives—one that would bring even more joy and love into your growing family.

You took a deep breath, stilling your nerves. Yuji would be the first one outside of yourselves to find out.

“Yuji… I’m… we’re–”

“Pregnant.” You finish, the proverbial weight being lifted off your shoulders. You take in a breath as you look at Yuji, waiting for him to process the information.

He swallows, gaze flicking between you and Kento. He uncharacteristically… quiet. You could see the wheels turning, his mouth slightly agape.

Kento’s brow furrowed slightly, unsure of how to interpret the silence. He had expected Yuji to be excited—overjoyed. Jumping up immediately and grabbing you into a tight hug, at which point Kento would scold him again, reiterating that he would need to “Be more gentle… (Y/N) is pregnant.” He exchanged a concerned glance with you, searching for some understanding.

Yuji cleared his throat, voice softer than usual. “That’s..” He takes a breath, flashing his signature smile, however it didn’t quite reach his eyes as it normally did. “Amazing. I’m…really happy for you guys!”

You reach out, offering a comforting smile. “We wanted you to be the first to know.” 

The dinner continued, but the lively atmosphere had dimmed. The excitement that had filled the room was now replaced by a more subdued mood. Yuji picked at his food, his usual quips and jokes conspicuously absent. The lively energy that normally accompanied his presence was replaced by a contemplative silence.

Kento cleared his throat after a few moments, trying to shift the focus and bring some warmth back to the table. “Do you have any plans for the weekend? Maybe we could all do something together.”

The pink-haired teen looked up, blinking as he found himself again in his lost thoughts. “I think I’ll be busy with training.” He replies, not quite making eye contact with either of you.

You spoke up, intent on breaking through the walls. “You’ll be staying over tonight though?” 

Kento had bought a house with four bedrooms, partially because he wanted to be prepared for any children you’d agree to give him. But also because he was tired of Yuji sleeping on the couch when he visited your old place. He was given a room, furnished with some of his essentials. Kento made it very clear that Yuji always had a place there.

But instead of the usual eagerness to sleepover—he hesitates.

“I’m not sure–”

“Yuji. It’s late. Just stay here.” His voice soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

You leave the bathroom, rubbing the last bit of cream into your skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as you saw Kento sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

“Something on your mind honey?” You question taking a seat next to him, already knowing the answer.

Kento looked up, his honey-brown eyes reflected in the gentle light of the lamp. “Yuji didn’t seem… happy about the news tonight.” 

You reached out to your husband, placing a hand on his knee “He was probably just caught off guard Ken. It’s a big change, give him some time.”

He sighed, fingers absentmindedly brushing against yours. “I thought he’d be excited. I thought—”

You leaned closer, resting your head on his broad shoulder. Kento wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to him. The warmth of his embrace filling you with a silent reassurance. He glances down at you.

“Dear… could you…” His voice trailed off, a subtle hint of hesitation in his words. You already knew what he was going to ask. After all, Kento’s bedside manner wasn’t exactly what made you fall for him. You just nod at him, before standing up and leaving the room.

Knock Knock.

You wait outside Yuji’s room before you hear him say “Come in.” 

You pushed the door open slowly, taking in the space. It was so uniquely Yuji, posters of his favorite actresses (that Kento would most definitely disapprove of). Beside them, a few shelves were crammed with manga volumes and action figures, the game console he loved to play with game discs littering the floor by the TV. And right by his bed, a picture of the three of you on vacation last year. Taken right after you both pushed Kento into the pool. It was his room. Without a doubt.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his posture slumped, gaze fixed on the floor. You approached him, sitting down on the bed. He looked up, his eyes reflecting unease and weariness.

“Hey, Yuji.” Your voice as soft as a feather. “Can we talk?”

“(Y/N). It’s not that I’m not happy for you and Nanamin. It's just—” He takes a shaky breath. Your gaze softens, waiting patiently as he tries to find the words to express his feelings.

“It’s just,” his voice breaking slightly. “I… love it here. You and Nanamin are like my family. And now you’ll have a kid. A real kid. I’m just worried I won’t have a place here anymore...”

The vulnerability in his words was palpable, the pink-haired teen looked down again, his fingers nervously twisting the edge of his blanket. He took a deep breath, you take one too. 

You gently squeezed his shoulder and stood up, motioning for him to stay put. You left the room briefly, walking down the hallway to where Kento had left the bedroom to wait. He looked up as you approached, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. You took his hand, leading him to the room.

As you entered, you guided Kento to stand beside Yuji. Yuji looked up at him with a mixture of apprehension. The older male took a deep breath, his usual composed demeanor much softer.

“Yuji. You will Always have a place here.”

Yuji’s head snapped up, surprise evident in his eyes. 

“I know that and I—”

“No. You will always have a place here because you are family.”

The room seemed to exhale collectively, the tension lifting as Yuji’s eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and relief.

“(Y/N) is going to need all of our help, our baby will need all of our help. We need you Yuji. Our family wouldn't be complete without you.” Kento’s hand reaches out, resting on Yuji’s shoulder. 

Yuji’s eyes glistened as the reality of Kento’s words sank in. The years of feeling like an outsider, of worrying about his place in the world. Finally finding his family. Without a word, he stands up drawing you both into a tight embrace.

“Thank you… (Y/N). Nanamin. I’ll be the best big brother ever, or uncle? I’m not sure but I’m here. Whatever you need.”

In that embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of belonging and love. The family you were building together, with all its changes and challenges, felt more united than ever.

[bunny-jpeg]

house sitter au

while they serve their country, you serve them! *salute*

task force 141 are good at what they do. their ranks and medals are impressive, but it's hard coming home. home for them for a long time was a mediocre flat in central london that was vacant most of the year. it didn't help with the loneliness and disconnect the men felt after time abroad.

that's where you came in. an impressive resume and a bit of confidence that if you could handle toddlers, then you could handle four grown men!

when they were home, you helped clean and made meals. when they were away, you got free reign of the entire house. it didn't help that the paycheck every month was impressive.

the one thing they didn't tell you about the job was the lingering gazes of the men who you lived with. they never did anything, they wouldn't do anything without your consent. but when you were in the garden pulling out weeds (when was the last time the lawn was taken care of) you saw price by the doorway with a cup of tea in hand, watching you grumble to yourself. then when you were cooking lunch for yourself, you felt the hot gaze of johnny against your backside as you reached to the top shelf to grab some salt (who put this so high?). then it was simon's eyes on your lips as you enjoyed some ice cream after a long day dusting (how were these guys not sneezing from all the dust!). finally it was gaz who made a comment about how you looked nice when you were scrubbing the floors. he laughed it off as a joke, but the way he looked at you was a little more heated.

four pairs of eyes lingered on every part of your body, even the parts that you were insecure about. to end up in bed with them wasn't hard. it first started with the captain, then you made your way through the ranks.

price was burly and strong, he had you pinned under him on his large bed. his hands on your hips as he buried his cock into you. your ass in the air but your upper half was flat against the mattress, price soon interwove his fingers with yours as he thrusted into your sweet cunt. you realized soon after that he really liked when you called him captain. or better yet, daddy. you didn't know that you reeked of daddy issues, but price could smell it from a mile away. but don't worry, daddy's got ya. when he was finished fucking you, he'd play with your overstimulated clit while he smoked. he made sure to exhale away from you. he was the first however to punish you when you were being a 'bad' girl. sometimes it was shining his boots, other times you were the one getting his boots dirty. (hope you like rough laces against your soaked clit!)

johnny was a wild card. he liked to bite. and it wasn't like his teeth were too blunt to cause any damage. after the first time you were with him, you made him go to the drug store to buy you concealer to cover the jackson pollock-esque hickeys on your neck! he offered to buy you a collar to wear inside and you narrowed your eyes at him. "if anyone here needs a collar it's you, mactavish." but he could also be so sweet. while he liked it fast and rough, he always made sure his number one girl got to finish as well. usually before him. his kisses were sloppy, he was like a dog sometimes. his favourite place to fuck you however was in the yard outside. he usually have to shove his thick fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. no one needed to know just how NEEDY you were for his cock. the number of times the other men caught him just pounding your sweet cock, using that strength of his to his advantage was something else. and of course, when they caught you, they hung around. three other men watching you face down in the grass with johnny having you by the hips. his praise his filthy, almost degrading. you were his special girl, but you were also a massive whore. but don't worry, bonnie, johnny will happily fuck any hole you have open.

simon was difficult. he only found out that your legs were open for business after he heard you and johnny going at it. the sound of the bed creaking and the scottsman's filthy tongue. but unlike johnny, simon was a little too big for you. while your sexual encounters started with oral and fingering. he managed to get just the tip in. but it wasn't enough, he eventually sank every last inch. the feeling took the wind out of you and you couldn't sit right for days after. his pace was slow, methodical. he watched you with a keen eye. the rise and fall of your chest, the noises you made. he knew he was selfish for taking so much of you, but you were unlike anyone else. after that, he started to take his mask off more. if you saw (and felt) his cock, you might as well see what was under the mask. cue a lot of worship from you, kissing at his heavily scarred body. he'd just hold you in his arms while you were in his lap.

kyle was the sweetest which compared to the other hulking men you were living with. it wasn't a hard bar to clear. all of them complimented you, but kyle was the one who'd bring you flowers when he returned from a mission. he mostly liked to keep his intimate time with you in his bedroom. his favourite position was to take you on your side. him spooning you as he thrusted his cock into your tight pussy. his nose in your hair as he moved against you. he knew the other men were taking your pussy for a joy ride, so he wanted to make love to you. flowers, candles, sweet nothings. the only problem was, instead him wanting to jump your bones. you wanted to jump HIS bones. you got loads of body worship from him, lots of praise to. he also liked when you called him by his rank, while not AS impressive as captain or lieutenant, it was still something he was proud of. he'd take you missionary style but a lot of the time, loved having you on top. with the afternoon light bathing your body in golden rays. he rarely left marks or bruises. no one needed to see what you two did in your off time. it was a secret for him and him alone. regardless of how you two fucked, he was the king of after care, letting you rest as he would read to you. either the book he had picked up while away or an article on his phone. he chuckled when he heard you snoring.

but sometimes, it was hard to choose between two of them at a time. so you ended up with both johnny and simon's cock pushed inside of you. your mouth hung open and your mind drawing a blank. but don't worry, they're worshiping your cunt. cooing about how sweet it is that you can take BOTH of them. of course you could! you were made for them. your stomach feels dense after they cum inside you about three times. the feeling of their cum in your gut makes your lethargic and just curl up after they get their fill.

other times its kyle and price. while they aren't pushing your pussy to its absolute limit. it still takes a lot out of you. you were on the floor of price's bedroom, riding the captain while facing kyle who had his cock in your face. as you moved your hips against the older man, your mouth and hand were on the sergeant's cock. you found out that both men liked it when you were covered in their cum, not push it inside of you as deep as they could.

when those who hired you asked how the job was going after a few months. you meekly asked what the health insurance policy was and did it cover birth control *hides face*

(you'd find out within a year that no amount of pills, iuds, rings or implants could stop one of those boys from giving you a baby)

<3

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

[pucksandpower]

I’m a Feminist

Franco Colapinto x team principal!Reader

Summary: everyone knows that Franco has a thing for older women, okay … so when his team principal turns out to be a (stupidly attractive) older woman, he can’t be held responsible for his actions

Franco sprawls in the chair, arms crossed over his chest like he’s holding court instead of facing an emergency meeting. His grin is wide, cocky even, and wholly unapologetic. Across the desk, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing patience to come like some kind of divine miracle.

“Explain,” you say, voice flat, your tone giving nothing away. You refuse to let him see how utterly exhausted you already are by this conversation.

“I sneezed,” Franco says with a shrug, “and liked all your pictures. Really, it was — how do you say — an accident.”

You stare. No, you glare. "And commented damn mommy on all of them?”

Franco falters — barely. There’s a half-second where his grin wavers, his bravado cracks, but then it’s gone, replaced by another shrug. “I-I have the flu?”

Your exhale is sharp, just shy of a growl. “Franco.”

“What?” He leans forward now, feigning innocence. “Is it so bad? You look muy guapa in your photos. Should I not celebrate my team principal’s beauty? This feels sexist, no?”

“Sexist?” Your eyebrows climb so high they might leave your face.

“I’m a feminist,” he announces, as if that explains everything.

“Do feminists call their bosses ‘mommy’ in the comments?”

“Only the hot ones,” he shoots back without missing a beat, then quickly adds, “Joking! I’m joking.”

You slam your palms down on the desk, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it widens. “Do you even understand how unprofessional this is? I have sponsors asking me if I’ve been hacked! The CEO of Dorilton Capital called me himself this morning!”

Franco’s face lights up like you’ve just paid him a compliment. “Darren! He likes me. He said I was charming.”

“He said you were a walking HR violation!”

His grin falters again, but there’s something annoyingly endearing about how quickly it returns. “Well, at least he talked about me.”

You sink back into your chair and drag a hand through your hair. God, you’re tired. “Do you even know how this looks? You went through every single photo I’ve ever posted. Franco, that’s-”

“Dedicated?”

“Obsessive,” you snap. “Creepy. Insane.”

“Romantic,” he offers, leaning back again like he’s just solved a puzzle.

“You are twenty-one years old!”

“And you’re …” He trails off, letting the sentence dangle in the air like bait.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

He smirks. “I was going to say timeless.”

“Franco, enough.” Your voice is sharp enough to cut through his bravado, and for the first time, he looks a little serious. “Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in? If this gets out-”

“It won’t.”

“It already has! You didn’t think people would notice when every post I’ve made since 2016 suddenly has your username in the likes and comments?”

Franco shrugs. “I’m a fan.”

“A fan?” You throw your hands up. “What are you even a fan of? My press conferences? My sponsor meetings? My ability to yell at you when you ruin your tires on lap seventeen?”

His grin returns, this time with a little more sheepishness. “How sexy you look doing that last one, mostly.”

Your head falls into your hands, and for a moment, there’s silence. You think — foolishly — that maybe he’s finally run out of things to say.

But no.

“You never answered my DM,” he says, voice lighter, teasing.

Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

“Last week,” he says, tilting his head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I sent you a DM. Very respectful. Very sweet.”

“I don’t even check my DMs!”

“Well, now I’m offended.” He places a hand over his heart like he’s genuinely wounded.

“I’m going to lose my job,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Franco says, waving you off. “You’re too good to lose your job. Everyone knows that.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s dramatic! I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re not flattered,” he counters, leaning forward again. “I thought women liked grand gestures.”

“Grand gestures?” You bark out a laugh, humorless and sharp. “Franco, this isn’t a romantic comedy. You don’t win me over by cyberstalking me!”

“Cyberstalking?” His mouth falls open, mock-offended. “That’s harsh, no? I think of it more like … research.”

“Research?”

“Sí. I’m just a very dedicated employee.”

“Dedicated?” Your laugh this time is louder, more incredulous. “I swear to God-”

“Would it help if I apologized?” He interrupts, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering.

“Yes,” you say immediately.

He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you in that unnervingly focused way he sometimes has, the one that makes you feel like he’s cataloging every detail of your expression. “You wouldn’t believe me, though. Even if I apologized, you’d think I was lying.”

“Because you would be lying.”

“Touché.” He grins again, but this time it’s softer, less of a weapon and more of a shield. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry. But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter.

“I mean it,” he says, and for the first time, there’s something like sincerity in his voice. “I thought it was funny. I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem, Franco. You didn’t think.”

There’s a beat of silence. For a second, you think you’ve finally gotten through to him. His expression shifts, the grin fading into something that almost looks like remorse.

Then he says, “But if I had thought about it, you’d still be mad, so really, why bother?”

“Franco!”

He laughs, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more liking your pictures, no more comments, no more DMs. Contenta?”

You eye him warily. “You swear?”

“On my life.”

“Franco.”

“On my seat,” he amends, holding a hand to his chest.

You sigh, long and heavy, but you nod. “Fine. Just — keep your head down for a while, okay? Don’t give anyone else a reason to call me about this.”

He stands, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. “Anything for you … mommy.”

“And don’t call me ‘mommy,’” you snap as he heads for the door.

He pauses, hand on the handle, and glances back over his shoulder, smirk firmly in place. “Not even in private?”

“Franco!”

He’s laughing as he leaves, the sound echoing in the hallway long after the door closes behind him. You sink back into your chair, exhausted, and wonder — not for the first time —if this job is going to kill you.

And if it does, you think grimly, it’ll probably be Franco Colapinto’s fault.