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thezombieprostitute · 2 days ago
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What's Mine
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Summary: Bucky pushes you too far and decides to explain how your situation works. Or doesn't.
Word Count: ~2.3 k
Warnings: Dark Fic, Implied dub/non con, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any.
Previous Part
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It's been a few months since Bucky "claimed" you. He followed up on his promises of taking care of you. You frequently woke up to some surprise gift or another. One day it was a fully stocked kitchen. Another day it was the leak in the bathroom sink getting fixed. More than a few times it's been jewelry with his initials on it.
And all it cost was letting him use you. You swear a piece of your soul dies every time he makes you cum. Every time he coats you in his semen. Every time you match his fervor. It might not be so bad if he didn't gloat every time. That damn smirk haunted your dreams. Or was it nightmares? What was the difference anymore?
It had definitely affected your standing in the community. People were scared to interact with you. Fewer parents brought their kids to the library when you were there. Ruth and her friends had no problems calling you all sorts of degrading things under their breath. You definitely caught them giving you the evil eye more than a few times.
Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.
You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.
"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."
He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."
You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."
"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."
"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"
"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."
"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"
He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."
"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"
Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."
"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.
"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."
"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."
"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."
Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."
He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.
"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.
That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."
"What are friends for," you dryly reply.
"That's my good girl, Doll."
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The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.
By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."
"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."
"I'm all worked up, Doll."
"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"
He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."
"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.
"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.
Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.
Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."
"I don't care anymore," you croak.
That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.
"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.
"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.
"I...I don't...I don't understand."
He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."
You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.
"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.
"I...I hit you," you stammer.
"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.
"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.
"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."
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You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.
Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.
He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.
"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."
"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.
"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."
You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.
"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."
"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"
He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."
"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.
"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."
You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"
He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."
"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.
"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."
"You branded me," you snarl.
"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."
"So, you're just going to keep using me?"
"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."
You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"
Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."
"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."
Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."
"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.
"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."
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Previous Part
Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly
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becausebuckley · 1 day ago
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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!
what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!
this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.
if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!
all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M
When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3
i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M
Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3
if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA
Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3
let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T
Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!
second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M
how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3
said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T
And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe
there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA
Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3
you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T
five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3
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unintentionaloracle · 3 days ago
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The Honorary In-Law (Part One) [Fic]
Hoo boy this took a while (so long I said "screw it" to trying to make it plausible to the current timeline of events in actual kayfabe) but now my baby is done! And boy do I need it between The Jhea Drought and whatever is happening with Zowens. (Trips why are you hurting me specifically?)
Summary: Rhea and Jey have been keeping it casual for a while. But when Jey tries to arrange a meeting with her and Sami, can Rhea handle the pressure to not screw up her new romance? And will Kevin throw a wrench in them taking their next step?
(Also I do have Liv and Dom in here and mentions of Rhea having had relationships with both of them, but I'm not tagging those so far because it's only for like, a scene and it seems rude to tag past relationships that are only mentioned in passing. IDK I can tag those if you need me to I'm so tired, y'all.)
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Part One: Double Your Trouble, Double Your Fun
 Rhea chuckled mischievously, planting one last kiss on Jey's lips. She glanced down at her handiwork: his mouth coated with her black lipstick. Her own probably looked like a mess, but it was worth it. She shifted her position on the couch from pinning and straddling the Intercontinental Champion to one that allowed her to curl up on him–head on his chest–almost like a contented cat.
 She could practically feel Jey grinning ear to ear as he held her. “I know I say this every time we make out, but...damn, Rhea...”
 Rhea grinned, rubbing his chest. “Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet...” She purred.
 “...Baby, this stuff is gonna wash off easily, right?” He asked, trying to check for himself.
 Rhea laughed. “No, you'll be walking around with that for a while. I got the good stuff,” she joked. “I gotta mark my territory, after all...”
 “I mean...I could've just written “Mami” on my sunglasses...”
 “Yeah,” she looked up at him with a smirk, “but then I wouldn't have had to kiss you.”
 “...Okay, nevermind...”
 A content warmth spread through Rhea. “Although, to be fair, I've got a million excuses to kiss you...” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.
 Jey laughed. He shifted them both around so Rhea was on the couch and he was on top. “Oh really? Do you need one?”
 Rhea smirked. She cupped his face as she pressed a spellbound Jey’s forehead to hers. “Nope. Especially not if you ask me nicely...”
 “Well then...Miss Rhea Ripley, may I please kiss you?” Jey said in a low, flirty tone as leaned in for another kiss.
It was then that Priest walked into his and Rhea's hotel room. “...Really? On the only couch?” He said as they turned to see him. Then he glanced at a flustered Jey. “That’s not your shade, man.”
 “Oh, come on, Damian. We aren't even screwing yet.” Rhea replied, making Jey choke on air. “And True Abyss is absolutely his shade!”
 Damian scoffed, trying to hide a smirk as he shook his head. “Just give me some heads up next time you have your new boytoy over, okay?” He said, heading to the bathroom.
 “Oh, fine.” She turned her attention back to Jey. “I swear, sometimes he's like a brother in an annoying way. Where were we?”
 “Actually,” Jey said, putting a finger to her lips...before he appeared to remember Rhea was an absolute menace of a flirt. He removed it before she could even open her mouth to do anything with that finger. “That reminds me: there's something I wanna ask you...”
 Concern rose through her body. “What?”
 “It’s nothing bad, I was just thinking...I kinda wanna introduce you to Sami...”
 Rhea somewhat relaxed, concern replaced with confusion. “...I've met Sami, Jey...”
 “I meant re-introduce him. You know, somewhere where you're not beating him and Kevin up to help The Judgement Day? A do-over.”
 “Why?”
 “Because you're important to me. And Sami's important to me, too.”
 Rhea felt touched, but also compelled to ask: “wouldn't it make more sense to introduce me to your family first? Or re-introduce me, I guess?”
 “I mean, Sami’s practically family,” Jey said plainly. “And right now, introducing you to my family is out of the question...”
 “Not even Jimmy?”
 “Nah. We're still trying to fix things between us...”
 “Roman?”
 “I can't stand to be in the same room as him longer than I have to.”
 “Your dad?”
 “No, no. Definitely not him. Trust me.”
 Rhea sighed. “And obviously Solo and his Bloodline are also out, even if I could take them...”
 “You could, but...” Jey cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek and smudging her initials she'd written on them. “Rhea, I don't want to make you have to deal with them, too. The Bloodline takes almost every good thing I have from me,” he pressed his forehead to hers. “I don't know what I'd do if they somehow took you, too. Plus, with all the crap you've been dealing with? I’d hate to get you tangled in my family ish because of me, baby. Know what I mean?”
 Rhea blinked. She didn't think she'd be touched by such a sentiment, but here she was, thinking of all the times she had to fight the men of The Judgement Day’s battles (especially Dom’s). And now Jey was here, not asking such a thing. He never would. It'd almost make her cry, if she didn't want to spoil the mood. Especially at this phase of their relationship: the “we aren't putting labels on it yet” phase.
 So instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cupping his face back. “Yeet,” she purred.
 Damian left the bathroom, but this time the lovers barely registered his presence as they lovingly stared at each other in the far more suggestive pose. “WEPA! Jey, I'm taking your hotel room key and I'm crashing in there!”
 “Uh, that might not be a good idea, Uce. Kevin's crashing with us right now, and he and Sami have been really–”
 Damian swore, mumbling something under his breath about “how can Sami still be with that guy?” before declaring “Guess I'm heading out.”
 Jey gave a thumbs up before Rhea dragged him back down for a quick kiss. “Is that a yes?” He asked.
 “Yes...” She said, tangling herself around him.
---
 The next night on Raw, Rhea prepped for her match backstage. Liv wanted to make sure Rhea couldn't get her next shot at her and the title so easily. So she had arranged for there to be a Battle Royal to determine her next Number One Contender. Idiot. I’ve won a Royal Rumble from the Number One spot. A Battle Royal is nothing. Rhea thought.
 Still, Rhea knew she didn't exactly have friends in the women's locker room. She'd done some terrible things to a lot of the girls over the past two years. Stuff she hadn’t exactly apologized for. So, naturally, it was awkward between her and everyone else in the locker room. So much so that, when she went to get her gear, she just got changed in the bathroom and hung out everywhere but the locker room, instead.
 (She knew it was bad when Damage Ctrl shot her dirty looks.)
 As she made her way to gorilla position backstage, she had a brief run-in with Raquel. Rhea opted to ignore her and the impulse to forget everything she was aiming for to get some sweet revenge. She had a match to win, she just couldn't get distracted by any annoying–
 “Daddy Dom, it's gonna suck having to be away from your handsome face two matches in a row,” Liv said, pouting before Dom rubbed his nose to hers.
 “Son of a bitch,” Rhea said to herself, rolling her eyes at the display.
 “Yeah, cuz right after you observe the battle royal, I have my Intercontinental Championship match against Jey, and he’s got you and the guys banned from ringside. It's not fair...” Dom whined.
 Rhea couldn't help but gag. “That you have to fight your own battles like a man for once?” She said, aloud.
 The couple finally noticed she was in the room. Liv rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Daddy Dom. You're plenty man for me. She's just jealous she has to settle for Jey, now.”
 “Oh honey, I am not settling with Jey. I'm more than satisfied...” Rhea replied, shooting Dom a look that made him avert his eyes.
 “Yeah, well... you're still probably gonna screw up with him! Just like you did with me!” Dom fired back, throwing his arm around Liv.
 “And me.” Liv added, cattily.
 Rhea felt a slight pang, but she couldn't let either of them notice. Or dwell on it. She put on her best smug smirk. “Uh huh...so tell me: do you enjoy making out because you're so into each other? Or is it because you both can still taste me?”
 Liv nearly lunged at her as Dom yelled, holding his girlfriend back. Rhea braced herself, motioning for them to bring it. She cackled as Liv flailed in Dom's arms and Dom struggled with her. That's when Rhea felt a hand ease around her waist.
 “Is there a problem, here?” Jey said, lowering his sunglasses. Rhea glanced at him, he was wearing black and purple on his gear, along with his signature blue and pink, and a pair of “Mami” sunglasses. She grinned a little at him before going back to glaring at her exes.
 “No...” Dom said (earning a groan from Triple H as he motioned for the cameraman to leave). “Just control Rhea...” He said, finally (and ungracefully) putting Liv down.
 “Yeah, control her!” Liv said, straightening her hair and outfit as she glared at Jey.
 “Y'all know nobody can control her,” Jey said fondly, squeezing her closer as Rhea threw an arm around him. He looked at Dom. “We'll finish this later,” Liv's music hit. “I think that's your cue to go...”
 Liv rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Daddy Dom! Walk me to the announce desk?” She said with a pout before they headed for the curtain. “And by the way, Rhea? The gear’s a bit much...” She added before leaving in a huff with her boyfriend.
 “YOU’RE ONE TO TALK IN THAT MINISKIRT WITH “PROPERTY OF DOM” ON THE ASS!” Rhea yelled back.
 Jey gave them a stern yeet goodbye before he finally seemed to notice Rhea’s outfit: white, blue and pink gear with a “YEET” collar. She even had sunglasses that had “R+J” written on them (her makeup had the same written on her cheek). He grinned. “Well, I like it.”
 “Yeah, they aren't really my colors, but I love them on you...” She said, grinning back. “Oh, did you talk to Sami about tomorrow morning? Doing breakfast or brunch or whatever together?”
 “Yeah. I actually came to talk to you about that...”
---
 Jey gave a gentle knock to door of his and Sami’s hotel room. Sami sent him a quick text telling him to wait a moment, followed quickly by the all clear to come in.
 Jey entered the room to find Sami, half-dressed and still sitting in bed. “Mornin’, uce!” Jey said brightly.
 Sami tried to motion for him to be quiet.
 Kevin, who was lying beside him with his arms wrapped around Sami's waist, stirred. The Prizefighter had been crashing with Sami and Jey since his fights with his friends and subsequent suspension. (“I'm all he has left, Jey,” Sami had pleaded. “He needs somebody in his corner right now.”) He seemed to be chill with Jey, therefore Jey was chill with him. Besides, he knew there was no talking Sami out of helping someone, especially Kevin. 
 Kevin said something sleepily in French, eyes still shut.
 Sami rubbed Kevin's back and said something sweetly in French. Jey guessed it was something like “It's just Jey, my love.”
 Kevin nodded, squeezing Sami tighter. He said something else in French.
 Sami replied in French.
 Kevin repeated what he said in French as a question.
 Sami huffed and repeated himself, apparently correcting what he'd said before. Kevin chuckled and settled back down.
  “Merci, beau,” Kevin said, smiling contently as he cocooned himself in blankets. He actually looked relaxed...and happy. More than Jey had seen him in weeks...or ever. It honestly kinda scared him a bit. Jey knew how to handle an angry, rampaging Kevin. But a blissful one? A blissful one felt like a trap.
 But Sami's the happiest I've seen him in weeks, all things considered, Jey thought. So I can live with that...
 “Someone looks like he had a good night with his girlfriend,” Sami teased, his voice a whisper.
 Jey covered the hickey on his neck and tried to wipe the lipstick smudges from his mouth again, flustered. “Ah, c'mon, man. We haven't made it official yet.” He said. “We're taking our time...”
 Still... Jey thought. He was more than willing to give Rhea the time she needed, but sometimes he kinda worried that maybe she wasn't as serious about him as he was about her.
 “I know...” Sami replied. “But seriously, you seem happy.”
 “I am! I did have a good time...” Jey said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I asked her about meeting up with you...”
 “And?”
 “She's down for it! She thought maybe we could get breakfast on Tuesday. Or brunch. She just kinda thought it might not be as awkward as a dinner after work or something,” Jey said.
 “Oh! Okay, yeah. I think I could work with that...” Sami said.
 Kevin stirred again. “You're going to breakfast with Jey?” He said, now more awake.
 “And Rhea,” Sami said. He explained the plan to “re-introduce” the two to Kevin. Kevin stared at him groggily the whole time, his eyebrow raised.
 “Can I tag along?” Kevin asked.
 Sami blinked. “You want to “re-meet” Rhea?”
 Kevin nodded. “We're a package deal, aren't we? Plus, what if this is all a ploy and she turns on you guys? You need some protection. What're they gonna do? Suspend me more?”
 It's called firing, Uce. Jey thought. He had other concerns, too. Kevin was so unpredictable, lately. Did he really want to bring that around his girl? Especially when he didn't want her around his mess of a family?
 “I mean, if she's cool with it, I'm cool with it,” Sami said. “It'll almost be like a double date...”
 “See!? A package deal!”
 Jey chuckled awkwardly. “I can run it by her...”
---
 “So...” Jey said, one hand on his hip. He scratched at his goatee with the other. “How are you feeling about that?”
 Rhea folded her arms, thinking. The idea of Kevin hanging around didn't exactly thrill her. Not for his behavior, of course. (She knew she could lay him out if he acted up.) But she was already somewhat anxious about trying to win over Sami, given their history. Throwing his unstable boyfriend in? Who held a hell of a grudge? You might as well ask her to do an MMA fight with a kangaroo, that'd be easier.
 Still, Dom and Liv’s taunts about their failed relationships with her started to echo in her head. I'm not gonna screw this one up! She thought.
 Her music hit. She jumped a little, startling Jey. “Oh, damn it...” She said. “Sure, he can come! I gotta go!” She quickly kissed him. “Bye!” She said, making her way to the curtain.
 “Uh, bye...Good luck, baby! You got this!” Jey called after her.
 Rhea smiled, confidence returning. She shoved the personal drama aside in her head and went into Match Mode. As she did her signature stomp in her entrance, she thought: I do got this. I'm gonna get my title shot, then I'm gonna crush the whole “winning over Sami and Kevin” thing!
---
 Rhea threw some stuff around backstage after the match, screaming. Priest ran up to her, “Hey, take it easy, Rhea! What's up?”
 She stopped her rampage, breathing heavily. “Did you not see that match!?” Rhea asked. 
 “No, I was talking to Pearce about getting my title back. I take it it went b–?”
 “Raquel and Liv cost me my shot by cheating after I eliminated Raquel because they're bloody cowards!” She shouted. “Now MAXXINE has my title shot!” Rhea let out another yell before burying her face in Damian's torso and hugging him.
 Damian patted her back. “Ouch. I'm sorry, Rhea. But hey, good for Maxxine, at least...”
 “Whose side are you on?” She asked, as if she hadn't enjoyed a hyped-on-victory Maxxine performing an arm drag on Liv when they faced off after and the latter held up her title in the ring, trying to act like she was the baddest to ever do it.
 “Yours. Always. Need me to put the fear of God in them? Maybe put Dom on the shelf?” Damian asked.
 “No, I don't want you suspended...” Rhea said. “Besides, I need to take out Raquel first...” She was gonna get nowhere with Liv's little bodyguard around. She clung to Damian a little tighter.
 Damian chuckled. “Alright...” Damian hugged her back. “Hey, is that all that's wrong?”
 “I'm just stressing about this breakfast thing I'm doing with Jey and Sami. Kevin apparently invited himself along so now I have to deal with that too.”
 “Oof. Need me to come along?” He asked.
 “I'd love you to, but I gotta do this on my own, Priest...” Rhea replied. “I don't want to make this messier...” Or more awkward.
 “Okay, but if you need me, or an excuse to leave, just hit me up and I'll get you out of there, all right?” He said, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and a pat on her back before letting her go.
 “Thanks, Priest. I appreciate it.” Rhea waved goodbye as Damian walked off. She took a deep breath, ready to just take a moment to collect her thoughts...
 Cathy came by, mic and film crew at hand. “Rhea, tough loss tonight. How do you feel—?”
 Rhea let out a scream of frustration and stormed off, in search of a breakable outlet for her rage.
To Be Continued...
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months ago
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i need to reread the crcb series for many reasons but mostly because my reading comprehension has apparently stopped because i missed implications about omega being spayed?!
knowing the institute she went to it makes sense but how did i miss it?! i’m ashamed of myself
- vgilantee
Lmaooo nooo you're not missing anything. That was more of a joke. She's not spayed, she just can't get pregnant outside her heats, and then has some seriously strong birth control to keep it from happening during the heats.
(And there will be no cliche "birth control fails and now we have accidental pregnancy" either. this is not that kind of fic.)
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soupbtch · 6 months ago
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ummm. my fic is done.
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wizardofahz · 7 months ago
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Saw a Criminal Minds gifset and suddenly started thinking about canon vs. fanon JJ.
TL; DR: Fanon JJ is the facade canon JJ puts on to hide trauma.
(This discusses JJ's sister, so content warning for suicide)
The obvious starting point for understanding JJ's characterization is her sister's suicide. That's a traumatic event for anyone, and even more so for an eleven year old child. So it's quite understandable that JJ decides she will do whatever she can to avoid experiencing hurt like that again.
In episode 3.17, JJ tells Will about their relationship, "I didn't want to tell anyone because the minute I do it becomes real, and when it becomes real, people get hurt, and I've always run from getting hurt. Always."
But JJ didn't only lose her sister.
In episode 14.12, JJ's mom admits, "I got so caught up in all my troubles that I forgot there was another little girl under my roof who had just lost her sister. You needed me, and I wasn't there."
At eleven years old, JJ was a traumatized child without a support system. So she learned to rely on herself. Other people were just avenues for hurt, and she decided that wasn't worth it.
All of which leads to this confession from JJ in the season 14 finale: "There are only four people I trust in this world."
My three non-negotiables are Will, Hotch, and Emily. The fourth is between Reid and Garcia, but I lean towards the former given Garcia's penchant for invading people's privacy.
Even if anyone disagrees with that list, there's not a lot of room for choice. At any given time, the BAU usually has seven members, and given the amount of turnover they've had, JJ hasn't learned to trust most of them.
Do they know that? They probably know her facade masks trauma, but I doubt they know the extent of it. There's a reason that episode starts with the team playing poker, and JJ showing Reid he doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does.
So let's talk about that facade. In contrast to Reid, who wears his trauma on his sleeve, JJ buries hers as deeply as she can. She takes care of the people around her, and while it's not disingenuous, it's part of a prettily painted reinforced fortress wall that says, "hey, look at me, such a put-together person that doesn't have problems of my own, so I can help with yours."
And it does the job because it has fandom fooled too.
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soreiya · 1 year ago
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If you have an irrational fear of criticism. Perhaps it would be in your best interests to actively avoid it for your own mental health? I’ve recently witnessed some individuals become so defensive that they tried to project their own negative emotions onto others. In which case, they are only making themselves more miserable by sending condescending anon messages, obsessively scouring fandom tags/other people’s pages, and comment responses looking for something to be upset about. Getting angry enough to do things like this makes it apparent that this is very much a ‘you’ problem and not a fandom issue.
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Criticism is not anti behavior. I’m going to try my best to explain the difference. Hopefully this will clear things up a bit.
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A critic will elaborate and break down their opinions in an attempt to get other people to understand their point of view. This is usually done on their individual page and will be tagged to the appropriate fandom/s in question. If a criticism post has been tagged incorrectly, kindly inform the author about the issue. Block the new criticism tag, or the author in question if you don’t want to be exposed to anything more.
Criticism might be annoying to see sometimes, but it can also give you an opportunity to learn something new or view things from a different perspective.
People who genuinely enjoy something are not going to stop doing so just because of some random stranger’s thoughts on the subject. More often than not fandom decline comes from someone simply losing interest and moving on to another fandom. Thinking otherwise might be a bit delusional.
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Anti behavior is invasive. These people will go out of their way to express their hatred for something by directly commenting on other people’s posts/fanworks. They act entitled as if it’s justified to want the content gone. They will try to harass people in an attempt to get them to leave the community. If that doesn’t work, they may go as far as attempting to socially cancel you with lies, or other ignorant statements. When writing their own posts, antis will condemn others for liking content that they do not. They will insult people, or label them as something inappropriate in order to give them a sense of superiority as if they are taking the moral high ground by being mean to other fans.
Keep in mind that most people are afraid to voice their opinions because of people who act like this.
Anti behavior absolutely should not be tolerated under any circumstances. Don’t allow such people to ruin your fandom experience. Block on sight and move on.
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meownotgood · 2 years ago
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oh we're cooking. we're cooking alright. WE'RE GETTING THERE!!!!
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don't have that much good stuff to share yet because it's really rough but here, have this.
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i-am-become-a-name · 2 years ago
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What's your interpretation of the weird/annoyed look Five gets on his face when Tegan announces that she wants to rejoin the TARDIS at the end of Arc of Infinity? I know it was probably meant to be played for laughs, but it annoys me every time i watch that episode and i'm curious what headcanons people have about it.
My favourite thing I've read about it pointed out that the cybermen specifically used Tegan as a weakness against five, that she's what it took to manipulate him (and through no fault of either of them, Adric's death was part of those consequences.) The novelisation really goes in to the descriptions of the doctor transfixed with the blood running down Tegan's chin from her bitten lip, the building tension as the cybermen get closer and closer to killing her and he's shaking trying to hold himself back from admitting his hearts are so easy to twist, just by threatening his friends. (Does Nyssa ever leave the TARDIS when it's on the spaceship? The cybermen don't even know she exists til they come onboard do they?)
As for why he looks so annoyed? hmmm. Does anyone want someone around that constantly needles them? Really, I think pre Arc of Infinity that even though Tegan had chosen to stay, they still had that power imbalance or even just tension between them that she had not come on board willingly. So five is expecting that to be the continuing, I don't know, continuing manner between them and it hadn't been good. It had its moments (mainly in the audios) but as an arrangement it was not ideal as friends to explore the universe together, all that terrible beauty and awesome monsters.
But it doesn't continue on in that manner - oh they bicker and make faces at each other, sure, but Tegan's conscious decision to step back onto the TARDIS irons out those imbalances, removes that bitterness and the past of her aunt's death. So when he makes that wee face, it's in expectation of the previous status quo. And never let it be said that Tegan's one to do exactly what's expected of her.
Anyway I really hope this makes sense and I may add some more thoughts later but it's 1:50 am Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep for thinking about this.
----
It's 2am I'm back. I feel like there's also this uneasiness in five about tegan, that mirror that no one likes being held up to themselves. Their similarities but the starkly different ways they express them must be exhausting to five. and here she is back again. To push and prod and challenge and be brashly beautifully glorious. wait. that last bit was the two am shipper coming out. Anyway they draw strength and resolve and anger from each other and Tegan was vital to five, from his first moments till his very last.
#again sorry if it's not coherent but it's been a WEEK. and it's still going.#look away if you're not interested because whatever it's my boring life stuff but. worked sunday and tuesday. thursday my boss texted me#did i want to go up to the next largest city flights and accomodation paid and worked for two weeks at their branch of our shop.#(i said no thank you but holy sht.) and that whole day we'd been taking the house apart looking for dads santa outfit for reading#night before christmas to the kids. utterly gone. nowhere to be found. sister said she had one so we were like oof we can relax it's fine.#sister did not in fact have one. so we took the house apart again. still not here. friday i went out and bought the fabric and fur to Make#one (six straight hours work on the jacket alone) and the kids come up to decorate their trees.#oh! and! when i went in to work to buy the fur (i can only purchase stuff of managers it's store policy) she was like. you can't leave the#shop. stay here. and i went no???? have i done something wrong??? but another manager came down and the managers had put together little#Christmas gift bags for everyone which is so sweet because i still feel like I'm there on sufferance even though it's been like 4 months.#but then. seven o'clock or so when i was still cutting up panne velvet i get an email from the boss who offered me the chch opportunity -#he's now quitting his position at our store. two weeks notice. so I'm stressed about that because we had a good thing going where he'd text#me once a week. we'd arrange extra shifts and that was it. what if the new store manager sucks or hates me or something??#and I've got like five half finished advent fics but i just. don't have the spoons between work tired and c19 brain fog and christmas tired#anyway none of this is about five and Tegan I'm so sorry i just need about ten more weighted blankets on me.#five#tegan#an ask a palpable ask#srsly i love being asked about them or any dw opinions you are so wonderful in my eyes#tbh the advent fics are getting to the point i might just post them all the way through January and when i write little ficlets. people#seem vaguely to be enjoying them but trying to do a December thing was a bit much.#I've just realised this week was even longer. last Saturday we spent the whole day out of town with the kids. and Tuesday we went out of#town to do the stuff we'd planned to do before we had to babysit them on our planned trip day. jfc no wonder I can't brain straight
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spencerreidenjoyer · 2 months ago
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we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader
You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.
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wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit
tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...
a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)
Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.
It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.
You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.
Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 
While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 
Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.
You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.
And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.
About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 
About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 
Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 
About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 
About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 
About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 
“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.
“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”
You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.
“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 
You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.
“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 
Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 
“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”
Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 
You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 
He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.
Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.
“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.
The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.
You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 
Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 
“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.
You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.
---
Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.
He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 
Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 
Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 
Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.
Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 
Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 
He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 
He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 
He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.
“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 
“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 
You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.
“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”
“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 
“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”
You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.
He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 
He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 
---
Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.
Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 
But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.
You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.
You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–
There Spencer is. 
“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”
“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”
You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”
“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”
You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”
Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 
Do you make him… nervous?
“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.
No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 
Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 
You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 
So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”
Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.
You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 
“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”
“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”
Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”
“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 
“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”
“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 
“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”
“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”
His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”
You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.
“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”
“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 
It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.
“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”
“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”
“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”
“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.
You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”
“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”
Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”
“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”
“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 
You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”
“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”
“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”
Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”
“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 
“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”
Spencer grins. “Good.”
His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”
“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.
You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 
“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 
Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 
His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.
“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 
“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.
You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.
“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 
“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”
You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.
“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.
Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”
You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”
“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.
“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”
“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 
“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 
“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”
You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.
He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.
The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 
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keikokasugawitch-blog · 1 year ago
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I know I said I was going to sleep but I came across some recent developments and I just can't stay quiet about it.
#jason todd#bruce wayne#batman 138 spoilers#dc comics#batman#batman comics#ok so my answer would be#taking him in#point blank down right and i'll explain it as best i can#we know what jason becomes while having met batman/bruce wayne#i love him the way he is#so a better way to express it would be that we know how bruce tries to MOLD him#and it's not pretty#he's the only one of his kids who hasn't completely adhere to bruce's own sense of morality#he KILLS ffs#yes damian has done it before but he has the “EXCUSE” of his upbringing#we know that in a world where bruce doesn't take him in he became a priest#while i have my own beef with the church you cannot deny that he seems content even happy#and that's just not meeting batman not batman not existing#i'd take priest jason every damned time if it meant that bruce would stop hurting him SO MUCH#i'm honestly sick and tired of the charade#of pretending i don't resent bruce for this bc while jason is not the only one that gets the short end of the stick#he is the most consistent when getting this treatment#the other batkids have still benefited in their times as vigilantes particularly endorsed by bruce himself#but jason never catches a damn break for more than 5 seconds when it comes to batman#and then after everything the man has the GALL to claim that he loves him that he's doing what's best for him#i've been feeling sick to the stomach a ful 20 mins because o' this#and you know what? i think i'm gonna write a fic about this i really can't stand it
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joelmillerisapunk · 10 months ago
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my dirty little secret
no outbreak bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader
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masterlist
↳ Wordcount: 5,422
↳ Summary: Since staying at the Millers, you've done nothing but tease Joel, seeing just how far you can push him. Joel's tired of it and decides it's time to take control of the situation.
~ Or ~
↳ Joel's tired of being hard all the fucking time while you're around and gives you a taste of your own medicine.
↳ Warnings: 18+, soft but dom, large age gap (make it your own 🩷), teasing, unprotected p in v, use of "daddy, baby girl, good girl" slight use of "slut" and "brat"
↳ Notes: Hi, this is the first fic I've ever posted anywhere and the first smut I've ever written. I'm scared beyond belief, but I hope you enjoy 🥰 dividers by @saradika-graphics. This was inspired from many different songs and that scene in preoutbreak where Joel's on the phone with Tommy in the gif I horribly made but it gave 'me giving daddy a nice treat while he's on the phone'.
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Joel tried to avert his gaze,  but it was near impossible when you left the door halfway open.  It seemed like an intentional act, a performance meant solely for him. The way you nonchalantly slipped off your shirt, your bra following suit, revealing your bare shoulders and neck, was a sight that he couldn't ignore. He knew he shouldn't be watching, that it was wrong on so many levels. You were significantly younger than him and, more importantly, Sarah's best friend. But when your jeans dropped to the floor, and you bent over to remove them, Joel couldn't help the surge of blood that rushed to his cock.
He yearned for your panties to join the pile on the floor. As you started putting on your pajamas, he remained transfixed, watching your hips sway as you donned the tiniest pajama shorts he had ever seen, and the t-shirt from the previous night. He felt an urgent need to leave before you realized he was there, watching. But he couldn't bring himself to move.
Ever since you started staying with him and Sarah, you'd been a constant presence in his dreams. He couldn't fathom why, but the thought of you was never far from his mind. The dreams were always so vivid, so real, and they left him yearning for more. He wasn't sure if it was you or your presence that attracted him. But the urge to reach out and touch you, to feel the softness of your skin under his fingers, was becoming increasingly difficult to resist.
In his dreams, he'd already crossed that line, reaching out to you, pulling you close. His cock twitched at the memory, and he groaned softly, his imagination running wild. When he finally opened his eyes, he realized you had finished dressing. He quickly left, hoping to escape before you caught him. But the image of you, half-naked, was burned into his mind, a sight he knew he wouldn't be able to forget anytime soon.
As soon as you were certain Joel had left, you tiptoed to the door, peeking around the corner. Seeing no one, I giggled to myself and closed the door. The thought of Joel had been consuming you ever since you first met him and Sarah during your first day of college. Watching him lug around heavy boxes, his thick arms straining with the effort, had sparked something within you. You couldn't help but imagine what those large hands would feel like on your body.
So, when you found yourself in need of a place to stay, you couldn't have been more grateful for the Miller's hospitality. They welcomed you with open arms, offering you a room as long as you needed it. And you couldn't resist the urge to test the waters, to see just how far you could push Joel.
In your mind, you were determined to break him, to make it impossible for him to resist you. Every glance, every touch, was a calculated move on your part. You wanted him to see you, to really see you, and to want you just as much as you wanted him.
Your mind wandered back to the way his eyes had lingered on your body, the way his breath had caught in his throat. It was a small victory, but it was enough to keep you going, to keep pushing the boundaries.
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The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your face as you slowly stirred from your slumber. The scent of pancakes and coffee wafted up from downstairs, mingling with the faint sound of music coming from down the hall. Your bed was soft and inviting, but you knew you needed to start your day.
You made your way to the bathroom, still half-asleep, eager to take a quick shower and start your day. But as you opened the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. Joel was in the shower, completely unaware of your presence.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But you couldn't resist the temptation to take a peek. You positioned yourself behind the privacy wall, peeking around the corner just enough to catch a glimpse.
Joel was soaping himself up, completely oblivious to your presence. You couldn't help but notice the way the water droplets slid down his muscular arms and chest, tracing a path through the greyed hairs that decorated his body. You imagined what it would be like to run your fingers down his toned chest, feeling the strength and warmth of his body beneath your fingertips.
The sight of him took your breath away, and you couldn't help but feel a stirring of desire deep within you. You had always found Joel attractive, but in that moment, you realized just how much he had been consuming your thoughts.
Joel suddenly turned off the shower and turned around, catching you mid-peek. Your eyes were still glued to him, and you couldn't help but stare at his god-like form, his body dripping with water. He couldn't help but smirk at you, his muscles glistening in the light.
Joel started walking toward you, stopping inches from your face. You could smell the body wash he had been using, and you felt your heart racing in your chest. You were frozen in place, unsure of what to do.
"Sorry, Mr. Miller, I thought the shower was free," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel just smiled at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"It's okay, darlin', I don't mind the company," he said, gently touching your face. You felt his strong hands on your skin, and you couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the embrace.
Joel leaned closer to you, his face almost touching yours. He put his other hand around your waist and pulled you against his wet, naked body. You could feel his warmth radiating off of him, and you couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. "Mr. Miller - I," you started to say, but Joel interrupted you mid-sentence, covering your mouth with the hand resting on the side of your face.
"Shhhh," he whispered, pressing his lips against your ear. You shivered slightly as he sucked softly on your earlobe, sending goosebumps up and down your spine. He began to stroke your hair, and he whispered again, "You can't help it, can you? You wanted this, didn't you?" His voice was husky and deep, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your heart was racing, and you couldn't help but nod your head in agreement.
"You been with a man before?" he asked in a low voice as he moved his lips further south and down your neck. Joel's tongue flicked out lightly, grazing your collarbone, and you sighed at the sensation.
But you quickly remembered Joel was asking you a question, and you had to answer honestly.
You shook your head, "No" you squeaked quietly, "No sir," the truth was you had been with other men before, but they were no men compared to who you were with right now. Joel chuckled a bit, his cock definitely growing now.
"Oh sweet girl, I'm gonna show you how a real man's supposed to take care of you," he said, his voice low and husky. Suddenly Joel pushed you against the tile wall and pinned your hands above your head. He kissed you deeply, then moved his lips down your jaw, neck, and collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
As soon as Joel caught you peaking behind the wall, he lost all resolve. He knew you were playing some game, but right now all he could think about was getting inside you. With you in his arms, pressed against the wall, Joel pressed his lips to your neck, breathing you in and letting out a groan. Your nipples hardened in anticipation through the fabric of your thin pajama shirt.
Just as Joel was about to take you to his bed and fuck you senseless, he heard Sarah's rushed footsteps making their way up the stairs. Without wasting another second, Joel carried you to the shower and turned it on, hoping to muffle any sounds you might make. The water was cold at first, but Joel quickly adjusted the temperature, and you gasped as the warm water cascaded down your body.
"Dad? Breakfast is ready. It's gonna get cold!" Sarah called out, clearly wondering where Joel was.
"Uh yeah sorry kiddo, I'm coming," Joel called back, his voice strained with restraint. As he turned the shower off, you tried to pull his hand off your mouth, but his grip only tightened.
"Hurry up!" you both heard before the rushed steps back down the stairs. Joel let go of your mouth and pulled you to his bare chest. He buried his nose in your neck and inhaled deeply. You moaned in contentment.
"I think it might be time for me to get out, baby girl," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. He could feel how needy you were, and he was desperate to get inside you. Your body warmed furiously, and you nodded against his shoulder before slowly pushing yourself away from him. Before leaving the shower, he grabbed your chin in his hands and tilted it, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't worry." He grinned before wrapping a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom, leaving you to get dressed and compose yourself.
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After your little encounter in the shower, Joel couldn't help but steal glances at you throughout dinner. He sat across from you at the table, trying to maintain his composure as he listened to Sarah chatter on about her day. But his thoughts kept wandering back to you, to the way you felt in his arms, to the way you responded to his touch.
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for betraying Sarah's trust, but he couldn't deny the feelings that had awakened within him. You were a breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise mundane life. You made him feel alive, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you.
You tried to focus on the conversation, but you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel as well. You couldn't help but think about the shower, about the way his body felt against yours, about the way he looked at you with such intensity. You hadn't even kissed him yet, but you couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him.
Taking advantage of the distraction, you allowed your foot to brush against Joel's under the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he subtly moved his foot closer to yours, letting you know he was enjoying it.
As Sarah kept talking, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. You imagined what it would be like to kiss Joel, to feel his lips on yours. You imagined what it would be like to run your hands over his body, to feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. Before you knew it, your foot had made its way up Joel's inner thigh, stopping just short of his hardening cock. Joel jolted in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as he felt your foot against him.
He tried to shift in his seat to create distance, but your leg always seemed to find its way back. This time, it made its way to the tip of his very hard cock. Before he could think, he quickly put his hand on top of your foot to hold it down. But it was too late. Sarah looked confused when he did so, and Joel just smiled at her apologetically. He couldn't say anything because he felt like he might come any second. When he finally regained his composure, he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I'll clean up in a bit, need to use the washroom." Without missing a beat, he bolted out of his chair and was walking a little too fast upstairs.
After your footplay under the table, Joel excused himself and went upstairs to collect himself. When he returned, he found the kitchen cleaned up and you sitting on the couch. He sat down next to you and asked, "Where's Sarah?" You looked over at him, smirking playfully. "She said your cooking made her sick."
Joel laughed at your comment and moved closer to you. He brushed his finger along the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "You're playing a dangerous game little girl, and I think you know that." He whispered huskily against your skin, leaning closer to you until his lips touched your neck. He gently nibbled your earlobe before whispering, "But, I don't mind playing dirty."
He placed his mouth softly against your earlobe, causing you to shiver with anticipation. His hand was now moving further and further up your inner thigh until it just brushed over your throbbing clit. His lips still hovered by your ear. "You're quite the little brat, aren't you?" He murmured. "Thinking you can tease me like that, huh? Gotta play by my rules right now, I'm in charge tonight... and you're gonna behave, is that understood little girl?"
But you were still feeling a little defiant. You wanted to see just how far you could push him. You pulled away, keeping your face inches from his. "You think you can tame me?" You questioned, watching as his eyes darkened slightly. Joel grabbed your face roughly with his calloused hands, causing you to back down a little in surprise.
"I don't like the word tame. I prefer the word... break." He said, his voice low and commanding. "If I'm gonna take charge, I'm gonna take it completely. I promise you, you're not gonna be wild by the end of the night. Not with the way you've been goin' around acting like a little slut. I'm not gonna sit back and watch you throw yourself at me. I'm not gonna be satisfied just sitting there waitin' for you. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk. I don't plan on being patient tonight, so unless you want me to take you right here, right now..."
Before Joel could finish his sentence, you heard footsteps begin to descend the stairs. Joel immediately released your face and turned towards the staircase. You stood up, your heart beginning to pound wildly in your chest as rushes of adrenaline and arousal rushed through you. Joel stood up as well, taking a deep breath and attempting to steady himself. He glanced at you, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. You bit your lip, staring nervously back at him, 
The footsteps grew louder as Sarah descended the stairs, and it felt like time slowed as you both waited for her to make it down. She looked at the two of you suspiciously. "Uh, hey. Was just gonna watch a movie." she pointed to the couch where you and Joel had been sitting.
"Well, I think I'm gonna turn in early. I'm feeling a little tired. Enjoy your movie." You said, before heading upstairs. Joel's gaze watched your figure retreat up the steps, and he turned back to Sarah. "I got some paperwork to catch back up on. Enjoy your movie kiddo." He walked past Sarah and headed upstairs.
He was going to go to his room but something made him want to check in on you. So Joel approached your door and let it creak open slightly. To his dismay, you weren't there. Probably in the bathroom, he thought.
So he headed back down the hall to his room, and when he opened the door, there you were, on his bed.
Joel's jaw dropped slightly when his eyes connected with yours. He could barely focus on anything other than you, how you were lying, how you were breathing, how your hair looked, and how perfect your body was. Joel slowly closed the door after him and took a couple of slow steps toward you. You laid perfectly still, watching him with wide doe eyes - the ones of a tease, a brat who needed a real man to take control of her...and Joel was gonna deliver.
Joel made a quick glance to his door, before turning back to you. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Nah, I just thought you deserved a little surprise." You teased, while letting your hand run delicately down your body and under the band of your shorts. Joel was done with your games, your teasing. He was about to fuck you like you had never been fucked before. The look in your eyes was almost as arousing as the way your hand worked its way down your body.
You were giving him a look that screamed submission. It said you would do whatever he said if he only commanded it of you. So he leaned down, grabbing a chunk of your hair roughly in his hand, forcing your head upwards, causing you to gasp in surprise and arousal.
"You do exactly what daddy says, and I'll treat'ya real good baby." Joel, as if on cue, reached his other hand underneath your shorts. His fingers found their way to your pussy, lightly caressing you through the fabric of your panties. You couldn't help whimpering and moaning. Joel began massaging more intensely, increasing your pleasure with each second. It was all too much, and Joel was enjoying every second of it. Your moans became higher pitched and more desperate as he continued, "Daddy please."
 When the words "Daddy please" came from your sweet lips, Joel couldn't help but smile. A rush of heat landed in his abdomen, and he knew he had to take control of the situation.
He took his hands off of you and backed away from the bed completely. He sat in the chair in the corner and slowly undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor. "Come on, be daddy's good girl and get undressed."
As he sat there waiting, he continued to unbutton his pants and release the zipper. He never took his eyes off you as he let his cock free from the confines of all material. You couldn't help but whimper a little at the sight.
"Come on now, nice and slow baby, give daddy something nice to watch." He motioned for you to start undressing.
You stood from the bed and started with your top, ever so slowly lifting it over your head and letting it land beside you. As soon as your top hit the floor and your breasts were exposed, Joel let out a pleasurable groan.
You walked closer to Joel and grasped the waistband of your shorts. As soon as your tank top fell, and you walked toward him, you felt Joel place his hands on your wrist. "Let daddy help you."
With your wrist still in his hand, he led you to the chair he just got out of. "Bend over," he ordered. Joel pulled the chair closer, so he could reach your ass. You let out a shaky breath as he knelt behind you.
He slowly removed your shorts and panties, taking his time to admire every square inch of skin that came through. Finally, the materials were down your ankles and hitting the floor. Joel let out a deep primal moan, almost a groan at the sight, at the perfect globes sitting inches from his face.
When the words "Daddy please" came from your sweet lips, Joel couldn't help but smile. A rush of heat landed in his abdomen, and he knew he had to take control of the situation.
He took his hands off of you and backed away from the bed completely. He sat in the chair in the corner and slowly undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor. "Come on, be daddy's good girl and get undressed."
As he sat there waiting, he continued to unbutton his pants and release the zipper. He never took his eyes off you as he let his cock free from the confines of all material. You couldn't help but whimper a little at the sight.
"Come on now, nice and slow baby, give daddy something nice to watch." He motioned for you to start undressing.
You stood up from the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as you slowly lifted your top over your head, letting it fall to the floor beside you. As soon as your top hit the floor and your breasts were exposed, Joel let out a low groan of pleasure.
You walked closer to him, your legs feeling like jelly as you grasped the waistband of your shorts. As you began to slide them down, you felt Joel's hands on your wrist. "Let daddy help you," he said, his voice deep and husky.
With your wrist still in his hand, he led you to the chair he had just been sitting in. "Bend over," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
You did as you were told, bending over the chair and exposing your ass to him. Joel pulled the chair closer, so he could reach you better, and you let out a shaky breath as you felt him kneel behind you.
He slowly removed your shorts and panties, taking his time to admire every inch of your skin that came into view. Finally, the materials were down your ankles and hitting the floor. Joel let out a deep primal moan, almost a groan at the sight of your perfect ass sitting inches from his face.
You weren't sure what you expected when you came into Joel's room, but here you were, face down, ass up on his bed. When Joel's large hands found their way onto the curves of your ass, squeezing tightly, you couldn't help but let out a gasp and whine.
You lifted your hips slightly, trying to relieve the ache forming between your legs. You could feel Joel's warm breath against your inner thighs as he teased you, inching upward to your clit.
Ever so lightly, he swiped his tongue over your clit, and the feeling sent waves of shivers shooting down your spine. You began to buck your hips up against his lips, trying to encourage him to continue. But Joel stopped suddenly and moved up, planting a kiss on your shoulder.
"Now let's see your pretty little mouth get to work, hmm?" he growled huskily into your ear.
You whimpered, not sure how to answer, too much in a lust overload, unable to speak or even process any coherent thoughts. Joel could tell you were caught up in the moment, gently guiding you to your knees so you were facing him.
"Come here," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
Without hesitation, you crawled forward, positioning yourself between Joel's legs as he sat back on the chair. You placed your hands on his thighs as he guided you to kneel before him.
Once you were positioned, Joel bent forward, his hands reaching out to tangle in your hair. He guided your head down towards his lap, and you couldn't help but moan at the sight of his hard length in front of you.
You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvety smoothness of his skin over the steel hardness beneath. Joel hissed in pleasure as you began to stroke him, your hand moving up and down his length.
"Open your mouth," Joel commanded, his voice low and husky.
You obeyed, parting your lips and letting him guide himself inside. You could feel him hit the back of your throat, and you struggled to suppress your gag reflex as he began to move in and out of your mouth.
Joel's hands tightened in your hair, pulling slightly as he thrust deeper. You could feel him hitting the back of your throat, and you tried your best to relax and take him in.
You could feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as you sucked him, your hand still moving in time with your mouth. The feeling of him in your mouth, the taste of him on your tongue, it was all so intoxicating. But before you could take him over the edge, Joel's lips met yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue parting your lips and exploring every inch of your mouth. It was a kiss full of passion and desire, a kiss that made your head spin and your heart race.
His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You moaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples until they were hard and aching for more. Joel broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. You gasped as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.
His hands were everywhere, touching and exploring every inch of your body until you were trembling with need. You couldn't help but whimper as his lips found your nipples, his tongue swirling around them before he sucked them into his mouth. Joel's hands travelled lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. You could feel his hard length pressed against you, and you couldn't help but grind against him.
"Please, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Joel's eyes darkened as he looked at you, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for it. Beg for what you want baby."
You whimpered, your mind hazy with lust as you tried to find the words. "Please, Joel. I need you. I need you inside me." His plan to have you please him orally was quickly forgotten as his overwhelming desire for you took over, he needed to have you. Now. Joel stood up, pulling you to your feet. Joel's grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you to your feet, his eyes blazing with desire. "You want me inside you, baby?" he growled, his voice full of raw need.
"Yes daddy," you whimpered, your body trembling with desire.
"Good girl," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're such a good girl, begging for what you want. Say it again.”
"Want you inside me, Joel. Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel's hands travelled down your body, cupping your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your core pressing against his hard length. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
"Yes, please, Joel. I need you," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Joel walked over to the bed, laying you down on your back. He hovered over you, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly entered you. You gasped as he filled you, your body stretching to accommodate him.
"You feel so fucking good, baby," Joel murmured, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued to thrust into you. "So tight, so perfect."
"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips meeting his thrust for thrust. "You feel so good inside me."
"Beg for it, baby," Joel commanded, his voice low and dominating. "Beg daddy to make you come."
"Please, Daddy," you begged, your voice trembling with need. "I need to come. Need you to make me come."
Joel's thrusts became harder, faster, his pace matching the desperation in your voice. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tense with pleasure.
"Come for me, baby," Joel growled, his voice commanding. "Come for Daddy now."
With one final thrust, you came, your body convulsing with pleasure as you tried to stay quiet.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. "You're such a good girl, coming for Daddy like that."
Joel pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. But before you could protest, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees.
"Daddy's going to take you from behind now," he growled, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack.
You couldn't help but moan at the sting, your body tensing with anticipation. Joel positioned himself behind you, his hard length pressing against your entrance.
"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
"Yes, Daddy," you whimpered, your body trembling with need.
With one swift thrust, Joel was inside of you, filling you completely. You couldn't help the way your body trembled with pleasure.
Joel's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to thrust into you. Each movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, your moans and whimpers filling the room.
"You like that, baby?" Joel asked, his voice full of raw need.
"Yes, Daddy. It feels so good," you gasped, your body begging for more.
Joel's thrusts became harder, faster, his pace matching the desperation in your voice. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tense with pleasure.
"Come for me again, baby," Joel commanded, his voice low and dominating. "I want to feel you come apart around me." Joel's fingers dug into your hips as he continued to thrust into you, each movement causing you to moan and whimper with pleasure. He could feel your body tensing up once again, your walls clenching around him as you got closer and closer to another orgasm.
"That's it, baby. I want to feel you milking my cock with your tight little pussy," Joel growled, his voice full of raw need and desire.
His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you screamed out Joel's name into your own hands, to try to keep quiet. You felt him pulse inside of you, his warm release filling you up as he reached his own climax.
Joel collapsed onto your back, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close as he caught his breath.
"Fuck, baby. You’re such a good girl aren't cha?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
You couldn't help but smile, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. 
Joel slowly pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty and wanting once again. But before you could protest, he turned you over onto your back and climbed on top of you.
"I'm not done with you yet, baby," he growled, his eyes blazing with desire.
He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as his hands roamed your body. He trailed his lips down your neck, across your collarbone, and down to your breasts.
He sucked one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before moving onto the next. You couldn't help but moan, your body responding to his touch once again.
Joel's hand travelled lower, his fingers finding their way to your clit. He began to rub slow circles around it, causing you to gasp and writhe beneath him.
"Please, Joel. I need more," you begged, your voice trembling with need.
Joel's fingers dipped inside of you, curling up to hit that perfect spot. He began to thrust them in and out of you, his pace matching the urgency in your voice.
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, your body tensing up as you reached the edge.
"Come on darlin’ I want to feel you come all over my fingers," Joel commanded, his voice dominating.
With one final thrust of his fingers, you shattered and your body convulsed in the same motions it had the last two or three, or - you had lost count at this point.
Joel pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean. You couldn't help but watch him, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.
"Mmmm, you taste so fucking good, baby," Joel murmured, his eyes blazing with desire.
He collapsed onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms and holding you close.
"I think I'm gonna keep ya around," Joel chuckled.
You couldn't help but smile, your body still trembling with pleasure. "I think I'm gonna let you," you whispered back. 
You weren't sure what the future held for the two of you, but in that moment, you were happy. You closed your eyes  as you snuggled closer to Joel, feeling safe and protected in his arms.
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Thank you for reading. Take a second to let me know what you thot and I'll send you pictures of my baby cows 🐮🥹
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patscorner · 5 months ago
Note
write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶
yes ma'am 🫡
Always and Forever
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Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.
wc: 1,780
Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff
______________________________
For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.
There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.
Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.
But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.
Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.
You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.
You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.
Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.
Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.
Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.
“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.
You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.
“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”
The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.
“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.
Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.
“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”
The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.
“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.
Always and forever.
The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.
Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.
The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.
Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.
You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.
Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.
You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.
You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.
When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.
“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.
“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.
“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.
You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.
She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.
“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”
KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."
Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”
“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”
You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.
Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”
You shrug and smile. “You love it.”
She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”
After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.
“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”
The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.
“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.
“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.
“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.
“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”
You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.
Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.
You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.
Always and forever.
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taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months ago
Text
I'm going to be honest
I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.
I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.
It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.
I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.
It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.
Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.
Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.
First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.
I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.
So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.
I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.
I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.
So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.
I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.
I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.
I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.
There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.
I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.
Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.
I'm forcing it and I'm tired.
It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.
I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.
It's not you, it's me.
So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.
Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.
I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.
I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.
Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.
I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.
It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.
I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.
This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.
Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.
Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.
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mydadleft471 · 4 months ago
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Envelop Me
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Summary: Messmer begins to worry when he realizes he hasn't seen you at all today. Rushing to your chambers, he realizes that you're just on your period and need some comfort.
Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, per usual. Just my boi being soft and caring for a fem! reader on her period.
Messmer lovers, I've brought an appetizer!
This fic was requested by anonymous! The request was, "Consider: Messmer x reader on their period, he's like a very large heat pack". GENIUS IDEA. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you like it :D
My requests are indeed open! I'm going to get started on my next request as soon as I post this, so be on the lookout for a new fic in the next few days.
Anywho, please enjoy! Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting on my works! Each and every one makes me wanna kick my feet and giggle fr.
Messmer was beginning to worry about you. Half the day had passed already and he hadn’t seen you out of your chambers. Normally, you’d make your way to him soon after you’d finished breakfast. Even if you planned on spending the day pouring over documents and books in his storehouse, you’d pay him a visit before departing. This was unusual behavior for you. Had he done something to upset you? Did you fall ill overnight? Surely not the latter; his servants would inform him right away of your state and would have taken you to the infirmary.
He decided that he couldn’t sit and wait on his throne for you anymore. He would come to your chambers himself and see what was preventing you from visiting him. Quickly making his way out of his dark chamber, he startles the Fire Knights standing guard outside his door. Taking the steps down two at a time and rushing through the hallways towards your quarters, he notices one of your usual servants standing worried outside your door. Noticing his presence, she bows and steps aside for him to enter.
“Has she come out of her chambers today?” Messmer tries to keep his voice even despite the uncertainty coursing through his veins like fire.
She shakes her head. “No, my Lord. I brought breakfast to her, per usual, and she only ate a little. I asked if she required assistance getting dressed, but she dismissed me and told me she wished to spend the day in bed.”
“And why was this not reported to me?” His eye narrows and the servant shrinks into herself. She looks like she wishes she could dissipate into thin air.
“Sincerest apologies, my Lord. I figured she simply wished to remain alone today. I asked if she was feeling ill, and she said that she was just very tired.”
He sighs. Sometimes, you would prefer to stay in bed all day, but you would come to Messmer’s chambers and you two would laze around together. He cannot recall a time where you would prefer to be alone. 
He sighs. “I understand. I will see what bothers her so.”
The servant bows and scurries off, leaving him alone before your door. Never before has he been so afraid to see you. With shaking hands, he raps on your door three times. He hears a faint shuffling of sheets coming from within the room.
“Yes?” He takes immense comfort in the fact that you are responding.
“Beloved, may I come in? I wish to see thee.”
He hears your voice quiver. “I am afraid I don’t feel very well today. I’m not sure I would make good company, My Lord.” 
“Whatever is the matter? Dost thou require a healer?” His snakes wrap themselves tighter around his frame, also worried for your wellbeing. They nose at your door, eager to see you.
“No, my love. I’m okay.” Your words come out strained, and his anxiety increases tenfold.
“I wish to see thee with my own eyes to ensure thy good health. Please, my beloved.” He would get on his knees and beg for you to let him in if he had to. He would do anything to know you were alright.
There is a beat of silence before you respond. “Come in.”
He opens the door so fast he almost twists the door off its hinges. He enters swiftly and closes the door, striding over to your side in hurried steps that echo off the marble floors. Messmer’s snakes incline themselves forward and it almost seems like they’re racing him to get to you first. When he arrives at your bedside, the sight he sees makes his heart drop.
You are wrapped in your sheets and comforter with sweat adorning your forehead. You wince in pain and he notices that you are curled in on yourself. You look at him with tired eyes and give him a small smile. His snakes flick their tongues into the air and they taste a hint of blood. Your blood. Messmer erupts in fury and his mind races a mile a minute. His serpents coil and hiss, looking around the room wildly for your attacker.
“What has happened? Who hast dared to hurt thee?!” He roars, summoning his spear. “Tell me now, beloved, and I will ensure they never cause thee pain again.” His voice bounces off the walls of your chamber and he is sure the entire keep can hear him, but he cannot bring himself to care.
You reach weakly for his hand and he immediately takes it, clutching it tightly. You feel the heat radiating off of him. You know you need to calm him down, and soon, lest he burn your favorite blanket to ash.
“No one has hurt me, my love. I’m alright.”
“My serpents smelled thy blood in the air. Who hast hurt thee so?” 
“Messmer, I’m on my period. Nobody hurt me.” You wince in pain once again.
He can’t believe he didn’t realize that sooner. In his defense, he thought someone had hurt his sweet consort.
“I see.” He gingerly sits down on the bed beside your crumpled form, still holding your hand. “I apologize if I frightened thee.” 
“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You… do know what a period is, yes?”
He raises his brow. “Thou thinkest me a child?”
“No, not at all, I just didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Suddenly, lightning licks up your spine and radiates throughout your back. You curl in on yourself tighter and breathe heavily.
Messmer’s eye flicks wildly over your covered body. “What wouldst thou have me do? I refuse to stand idly by while thou suffers.”
“Can you come lay with me, please? I just want you to hold me.” Your sweet request has his heart fluttering in his chest.
Wordlessly, he walks over to the other side of the large bed and climbs in. He doesn’t want to ask you to move when you are clearly in so much pain. He shuffles over to you and pulls the blanket up to cover you both. He hovers next to you, unsure of how to hold you. He’s terrified of hurting you on accident.
You roll over and scoot closer to him, your body protesting the sudden movement. You lay your head on his chest and try to get comfortable on your side.
“How dost thou feel now?” He strokes your hair tentatively.
“A little better.” You continue to shift against him.
He sighs and tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze. It’s loving and tender. “Wouldst thou be comfortable laying on top of me?”
“I think so.”
He gently lifts your body until you are completely sprawled out on top of him on your stomach with your head in the middle of his chest. He places a large hand on your back and you feel immediate relief. Between the warmth of his body pressed against yours and his hand on your back, your muscles slowly begin to relax.
“You’re so warm…” You mumble into his chest.
“Dost thou require me to move? Have I made thee too warm?” His voice is laced with concern.
“No. It feels wonderful.” You nuzzle your head into him and sigh, content. He smiles and places a light kiss to the top of your head. His serpents nip at the blanket and pull it over you, then carefully wind over your shoulders and lie down.
“Why didst thou not send for me?” He traces small circles into your lower back. “I grew worried at your absence.”
“I’m sorry. I just felt like I wouldn’t be good company like this.”
“So thou would rather toil in isolation?”
“That’s very funny coming from you, my love.”
He rolls his eye. “Perhaps I am not the best example to live by when one is in such pain, but I wish to be of comfort, just as thou has been for me. I wish to care for thee, my beloved.”
You lean your head up to look at him and press a kiss to his lips. His cheeks redden from the simple gesture, as they always do. “You care for me plenty.”
“I am glad thou thinkest so.”
You shake your head and smile at him. “I know so. I refuse to hear anymore doubts from you.”
“Thou’rt demanding indeed, but I shall not stand against thy wishes, my Lady.”
You chuckle at him. “I also refuse to get up for another few hours.”
“Being late for dinner does not sound like thee.”
Your stomach grumbles at the mention of dinner, and Messmer laughs. 
“How much of the day did I spend wallowing away in misery?”
“About half. Dinner is not far away.”
“Good. I’m starving.”
A comfortable silence encompasses you both and all you can hear are your shared breaths. Messmer lazily flicks his wrist and your fireplace sparks to life. The flames hum and sway side-to-side, dancing. The black tendrils delicately wind their way up and around the flame in almost hypnotizing movements. You’ve always found Messmer’s fire to be beautiful.
You could stay here forever, wrapped in silk sheets and cozy blankets with your lover. His dominant hand caresses your back with feather-light touches and it lulls you into a drowsy haze. Your eyes flutter shut.
“Messmer?” Your voice is serene and quiet.
“Yes, beloved?”
“Do you think we could have dinner in bed? I don’t want to get up.”
He laughs genuinely, a sound you’ve grown to love. It makes you smile to see him happy and carefree. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“You might have to wake me.”
“Though it pains me to disturb thy slumber, I shall, just for thee. Now, rest.” He brings his other hand to your hair and runs his nails across your scalp, making you shiver and relax even further into him.
“You spoil me.” 
“I know.”
There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.
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pomefioredove · 5 months ago
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Hiii!! I was wondering if you could “I can’t stop thinking about you” with Jade? If ur prompt things are still open of course! If not that’s totally okay too!!
o7 anon
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summary: "I can’t stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: jade additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread and maybe a little ooc a part of this event
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"And don't forget to lock the doors when you leave,"
Azul sighs, hovering in the doorway of the Mostro Lounge with his hands on his hips.
"Luckily, nothing was stolen last time I let Floyd take the closing shift, but luck is fickle,"
He pauses, turning to you. "I'm sure you, at least, will be able to handle something so simple."
You salute the tired-looking merman before the soft swoosh of the kitchen door interrupts the conversation.
"My, you have such little faith in me, Azul. I'm wounded," a smoother, much less tense, presence follows it.
You'd always wondered how Jade is able to sound imposing without ever actually raising his voice.
Azul huffs. "I clearly was not addressing you. Good evening to the both of you... Don't stay up too late,"
And with that, he's gone.
As soon as the door is closed and Azul's inky silhouette has vanished, you turn to look at the gentleman behind you.
"I didn't even know you were here,"
"I'm not supposed to be," Jade smiles, offering little explanation.
By now, you're sure he does that on purpose.
You don't feel like being baited into a conversation, but when your only other option is silence with Jade...
"So?"
"I was taking stock," he says. "Both metaphorically and literally. We're short on limes."
His strangeness radiates off of him like a mist. You narrow your eyes at him; he's hiding something, you're sure. But what are you supposed to do- interrogate him?
"I'll leave a note," you mutter, turning your attention back to sweeping.
This is your very first closing shift at the lounge; no customers, no Azul, no sounds except for your own breathing.
And Jade's.
He smiles again. "Shall I help? You'll be done faster with another set of hands,"
He could just leave. He's not even on the clock... if this is him looping you into some ploy to get overtime, you swear...
"If you would like,"
"Excellent,"
Jade disappears into the kitchen, taking that strange air of tension with him, and returns with a rag and cleaning solution.
He's completely silent, perusing the lounge as if it were an art museum, admiring the specks and stains on each table before wiping them down.
"You seem nervous," he says merrily, not even looking at you. "Are you afraid of the dark?"
"No," a half-truth. "I'm just tired." a lie.
"I've read that many human children develop a fear of the dark. What's more, is that it's not considered irrational. How fascinating,"
You focus on the bristles of the broom in front of you. The Mostro Lounge does get rather dark at night... all of Octavinelle does.
"It's not irrational," you mutter.
"Perhaps for you. But in the sea, a child being afraid of the dark would be as silly to us as a child being afraid of sunlight would be to you,"
You pause to look out one of the windows in the lounge, the thick pane of glass separating you from the inky depths. It's almost pitch black at this hour.
Ugh. You're letting him get in your head.
You hum. "Is that why you're here, then? Protecting me from the dark?"
Jade smiles, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. "No. I was only making conversation. You seemed uncomfortable with my presence,"
"I just was expecting to be alone,"
"So was I,"
You pause, turning to him with a questioning glance.
As vague an answer as ever, you think, though there's a certain gleam in his eye that's daring you to find out for yourself.
He meets your gaze. "You interest me,"
Jade says it plainly, his tone soft, as if he thinks he might scare you away with any sudden movements.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he hums. "And I hope you understand my meaning... I do not seek to make you uncomfortable."
You set the broom against the wall. "You're not,"
He mimics you, setting the rag and bottle aside. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you caught a look of relief on him.
"Good. I have no malicious intentions... This time,"
You take that as a joke. It's not very funny.
Jade chuckles. "Ah, don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only lightening the mood... I would like to get to know you better, after all," he pauses. "As a confidante."
There's something oddly genuine about this.
He's as calm as ever, but you can tell there's a current of vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.
You can't help a smile at the thought.
"Not an informant, then?"
He smiles back. "Not with you, no,"
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