#oh and that last panel always makes me laugh
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stargirl230 · 10 months ago
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kaito screencap redraw! plus my favorite panel from the scarlet return arc lol
I've been reading detco for like 2 years and the unhealthy obsession fanart motivation finally caught up
(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)
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teeth-draws · 9 months ago
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Riel, busting Blade’s door down: Did you send out an official notice equating PDA to TREASON?
Blade, steepling his fingers: Something Had To Be Done
———
The GIF conversation messed with my COLOURS I’m devastated but I didn’t draw it out to do nothing with it… CLICK IF THE IMAGE IS BLURRY!
Disclaimer: I used chat GPT to write the poster and then added bits. I could never in my life come up with the line “PDA is a dagger in the back of your unit” lmao I’m fkn crying
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This was meant to be the first picture in a series but ummm idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Rising from the dead to doodle my favourite boy from @shepherds-of-haven
#shepherds of haven#halle beren#trouble alder#shoh#if games#fanart#for inspo I asked chat to also make up a visual poster and the results had be laughing it was like A WOLF A TANK GUNS EXPLOSIONS#A FLAMETHROWER#NONE of it was in English it was so funny like good try chat#originally there was going to be a third panel which would just a rotoscope of him twiling her hair behind her back but given how much…#… the conversion messed with what I had here already I don’t want to risk it#I was also going to have him light the match in his mouth on his jaw and just torch it or throw it away LOL drama#when :oh idk if she likes me back…: meets :what do you MEAN my boss told me I can’t do it:#I have drawn a lot in the last few days I’m going to post a bunch of OC stuff all at once… I should draw more just singular characters#I SHOULD FKN DRAW RIEL#cog games#Ty ema for getting me this transparent logo you made this all possible#the lack of graphic design here is ummm… intentional it’s in character#can you imagine blade browsing canva for the proper typography#that’s RIGHT so I’m not doing it either!!!!!#also trouble out here with the oral fixation I just keep putting stuff in his mouth lmao#it’s giving Mac from always sunny#might draw that sometime#I know in another life riel probably WOULD love to letigiously bar all pda but in this case it was done without his permission#and he can’t abide that#blade ur not the only guy in charge anymore!!! policy must go through the NERDS!!!
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wwinterwitch · 15 days ago
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friendly banter — bucky barnes
summary: sam asks for your help on a mission. you're reunited with him, Joaquín and Bucky. the last one really likes to banter. you think it's just a friendly exchange. it's actually a bit more than that
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (+ platonic friendships with sam and joaquín)
word count: 5k
tags: friends to lovers, sharing feelings (awkward but cute), reader is a hacker and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, fluff, undisclosed feelings (mutual), kissing
note: this was kind of a mess but i'm back after a long time on not writing any fics! i'm currently in my last months of studying to become a lawyer (yay) and writing fics has proven to be very therapeutic during this time. this may or may not suck but i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it
please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!
all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 2 (features the thunderbolts* now)
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"Got eyes on it?"
You stop walking as soon as you hear that question, staring ahead in disbelief. "You mean...the huge panel in the middle of the room?" you ask with obvious sarcasm, trying to speak as quietly as possible through your comm as you make your way further inside the darkened room.
It’s a typical security room with tons of cameras pointing to every corner of the building. To your relief, the presence of your group is apparently still unnoticed as your eyes wander across the various screens in front of you, noticing no commotion or an unnecessarily large group of unfriendly-looking guys rushing to find you. The large panel control installed in the middle of the desk before you is the thing that immediately gets your attention as you walk closer, always keeping in mind the task at hand.
All you really have to do is hack into the system to disable the security protocols long enough for Sam and Joaquín to sneak into the top floors of the building to retrieve the data that they wanted from the bad guy's records in order to find out more about the gang they'll be (hopefully) putting behind bars soon.
This is not the first and definitely not the last time you'll be doing these kinds of favors for Sam. Your friendship goes way back, when you were still a nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that somehow managed to get on Captain America's good graces after that whole Washington fiasco. You're still unsure why Steve always thought so highly of you. Then again, he was the type of guy who never failed to see the potential in other people, even when they couldn't quite see it themselves.
Now, you get to help the new Captain America, who's also as dear to you as the previous one was...perhaps just a tiny bit more annoying, but one of your dearest friends regardless.
As you rush over to the panel, you have to jump over the unconscious body of a security guard that Bucky (another dear friend you met thanks to Steve) took care of before you walked inside, quickly taking a seat in front of the large keyboard to start doing your part of the job.
You hear the unmistakable chuckle from Joaquín as you quickly type in a series of codes and commands. "Jeez, I missed having you on our missions!"
"Awwh!" you mutter with genuine endearment. "I missed being part of these missions too, buddy!"
"And we're still going out for drinks after this, right?"
"Are you genuinely asking me that, Joaquín Torres?" you ask, sounding overly offended on purpose.
You hear him laugh again, but before he can say anything back, you hear Bucky interrupting the exchange. "How about we focus on not getting caught here and then you guys can discuss your night plans?"
"Uh-oh, old man got upset," you joke soon after, finishing to type in the last few codes to fully disable the security system. Surely they have some backup protocol that would soon trigger the alarm to alert these guys of an unwanted visitor, but by then all of you will be long gone. It really is a very simple mission.
"He's jealous you're not taking him out for drinks," Sam jokes back, and then you immediately hear Joaquín agreeing with him.
It's a normal occurrence for Sam to be making those kinds of jokes involving you and Bucky. He has been making those types of remarks for as long as you can remember, fully convinced the two of you "have something going on" as he has put it before. You really try not to think too much about it because, first off, Sam loves to say shit just for the sake of pissing you and Bucky off and, second...you really don't want to let those comments get to your head.
You don't want to let yourself wonder about the what if's of that. There was a time in your life when you did allow yourself to fantasize about the possibility of actually "having something going on" with him, but you learnt to shut off that part of your brain in order to avoid getting your hopes up regarding a situation that just wouldn't happen outside your imagination. Hearing Sam’s silly remarks would only bring you back to those days.
Bucky has been one of your best friends for years and he has never shown the slightest of hints that he might be interested in you in the way you would like (at least not that you're aware of), and there was absolutely no way that you would ever make the first move and risk embarrassing yourself in front of him or, even worse, losing the friendship you two have. You eventually just got comfortable in the abyss of eternal friendzone and learned to accept it. If there was ever going to happen something between the two of you, surely it would've happened by now.
Still, Sam seems to be holding onto that rope for dear life and refuses to let it go. You can't deny it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear those jokes though. They somehow make you feel like somehow you got caught and everyone knows you have a secret crush on Bucky, but you've learned to adapt over the years.
"First part's done.” Leaning back on the chair, you watch the percentage bar on the screen before you, completely ignoring Sam's little joke. "A few more seconds and you're up guys!"
"Hallway’s clear," you hear Bucky say, still guarding the room where you're currently in. "How much time do we have to get out of here?"
"Uh...I can't say for sure. Anywhere near five to thirty, maybe?"
"Minutes?"
"Seconds."
"Oh, great," he mutters ironically.
"Well, I'm sorry. We're hacking into a very sophisticated system that I don't entirely know how it works!" you snap back at him. "Besides, the whole point of this is to give Joaquín and Sam enough time to sneak inside without having to deal with a bunch of guards going straight for them. Bad guys will know we're down here and they'll come looking for us first."
"Isn't hacking your whole thing? How do you not know how it works?" he asks, and just by the tone of his voice you know he's trying to piss you off, because he knows that's exactly the type of comments that would make you upset. If that type of comment came from a stranger you would be strangling them right now, but it’s Bucky, and he seems to enjoy annoying the shit out of you.
"Big talk coming from someone who still asks for my help because he barely knows how to unlock his own phone."
The sound of his faint chuckle immediately makes you smile, perfectly picturing the way he's probably rolling his eyes just barely right now, trying to suppress a smirk as if you could possibly see him right now, knowing he hates when you point it out to him.
"You have to give me some credit, though. I know how to program emails on that thing now. Soon enough I'll be taking your job, so you better watch out."
You can't help but laugh at his reply, slightly shaking your head as you realize you’re getting distracted by him, trying to keep your focus on what you're supposed to be doing right now rather than indulge in a never ending back-and-forth with him. As soon as you type the last codes and the large SECURITY SYSTEM: DISABLED alert pops on the monitor, you quickly rise up from your seat. "You're up guys, hurry!"
"On it!" Sam replies as you rush outside the room.
Before he even says anything to you, Bucky is quickly guiding you down the hallway with the intent of getting out of there as soon as possible, turning to look at you with a confused expression when you stop walking and, instead, start yanking his arm to go in the opposite direction.
"What are you doing?"
"The exit is that way," you point out as if it’s obvious.
He looks even more confused now, and slightly annoyed. "Don't think so. That's the way we entered, but there's another way of leaving this place a lot faster."
"No, we can't change the plan!"
He definitely looks annoyed now, trying not to snap at you. "I'm not changing the plan. Exiting that way has always been the plan. If we go that way, we'll-"
Before he can say anything else, the loud sound of an alarm blasts through the entire building, signaling that you've been discovered and you'll be having company very soon. As if that wasn't enough, the door of the room you were previously in opens violently, and the guard that was previously unconscious on the floor is frantically alerting more people through his radio.
“Oh, that’s great,” you point out, slightly panicking right now because you’re still inside the building. “You decided to wake up early, huh?”
Bucky immediately grabs the guy by his bulletproof vest to throw him against the wall, taking his barely regained consciousness to his advantage. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice about six other guys coming towards you, turning around the same corner you wanted to run towards as part of your escape plan. Sadly, that's when you realized maybe the direction Bucky was suggesting was better.
You’re unsure of what to do now. It's not like you haven't been taught how to take down a few bad guys, but your specialities have always involved computers rather than physical combat. Almost as if he could read your mind, Bucky turns towards you for a quick second. "Go! I'll catch up to you." Again, almost as if he knew that you'd try to ask if he was sure about it, he immediately shouts yet another "Go!" before you're finally deciding to do as he says, running down the hall in the direction he has intended to go before.
Hours later, second after second that passes by, you’re more and more convinced that you'll never hear the end of it. If only you could go back in time and just agree with Bucky's plan rather than trying to argue with him. It would have spared you a lifetime of him reminding you how he was right and you were wrong.
Turns out his exit plan was the one you should've followed all along, because it actually led to the engine room which immediately meant being in a much less crowded part of the building to escape without risking bumping into more people.
All of you had enough time to change into something more comfortable to go out for drinks. Initially it was something you and Joaquín had planned alone, but evidently the two of you didn’t hesitate to invite Sam and Bucky. Of course they accepted the invite, and of course Bucky has done his very best to keep reminding you of your little mistake.
"Listen, if you don't want shit like that to happen again, just let me know your plan beforehand."
"But I did let you know. The problem is that someone is not really a good listener."
"No. Letting me know- like, properly letting me know, would've been telling me before we got inside that building."
Bucky smirks as he leans back on his chair, and it's obvious to you he's really enjoying this banter. "Plan changed at the last minute. If you would've just followed my lead, we could've left that building a lot faster."
"Ah, so you do recognize that wasn't the original plan!" you exclaim with a triumphant grin, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You changed it all by yourself and didn't tell me."
"Changed at the last minute," he repeats, as if to correct you. "You wanted me to stand there and explain every detail to you?"
"Oh, as if explaining it would've taken you hours! You’re always so dramatic."
"Children," Sam commented, interrupting the banter with an unamused expression. "I had to trust the operation to literal children."
Bucky scoffs at that comment, watching as Sam lets out a chuckle, shaking his head after witnessing this whole interaction between the two of you.
"Kinda makes you appreciate having an actual professional around, huh?" Joaquín says right after, flashing a charming smile in Sam's direction.
"Oh, please!" you, Bucky and Sam reply in unison, earning an offended look from Joaquín.
Soon after, Bucky is speaking again. "You know what? I'll give you some credit. You managed to do your part of the job…decently."
It’s obvious he wants a reaction from you, but even if your banter is entertaining, you know you can't keep bickering the entire night. Once again, you can’t help but to feel embarrassed, as if everyone at that table knows your little secret regarding your feelings towards Bucky. As if some innocent banter between friends could ever give it away. Besides, the four of you are here to celebrate your mission was a success, and the fact that you haven't seen the trio in a long time makes it the perfect opportunity to catch up.
Pretending to fully ignore his last comment, you turn to look at Sam from across the table. "You. I haven't seen your lovely face in a while," you start, watching him physically get ready for whatever silly comment you might come up with. "Tell me what you've been up to...I've seen the photos of you shaking hands with the President," the reference to Everett Ross sounding anything but endearing.
Sam sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, well, I guess you can say it's part of the job," he simply replies before taking a quick sip of his beer. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I figured it's best to compromise a bit and keep the man happy. As long as he stays in line, I'll cooperate."
"Of course you're not thrilled about it, Sam. That's the same guy that put your ass in a prison in the middle of nowhere like you were some kind of top security criminal!" you reply almost immediately, still in disbelief at the revelation of any sort of alliance between him and Ross. Sam's expression lets you know that even he is still conflicted about it, not really knowing what to say. After taking a brief pause, you try to say something else to lighten the mood, not wanting him to think like you’re judging him for it. "Hey, I understand having to keep up appearances. I get it. And please accept my deepest condolences for having to deal with that piece of shit."
Your last comment makes the three of them laugh, and Bucky takes the opportunity to change the subject. "And what have you been up to?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "It's been a while since any of us has seen you."
"Well, my life has been all over the place the last few months. As all of you know, I moved into a new apartment. I loved my roommate, but I felt it was time to just live by myself, you know?"
"So no plans of leaving New York to move to D.C., huh?" Joaquín asks with a smile.
You return the smile immediately. "As fun as it would be to live closer to all of you weirdos, no. I plan to stay in New York for now. I'm just really comfortable there with the new apartment, the promotion I got a few months ago, the fact that most of my family and friends are there..."
"But not all your friends," Sam quickly points out, pretending to sound incredibly offended by your last statement. "But since we’re talking about friends and just social life in general...are you still single?"
"Why are you always so interested in my love life?" you joke with a playful grin, taking a sip of your margarita to leave him wondering the answer just a few seconds more. "Yes, I'm still single. Queen's full of creeps," you added shortly after. "Are any of you seeing anybody?"
"Proudly and happily single," Joaquín replies, raising his drink up as if to cheer before taking a sip.
Sam gives him a very visible side-eye. "Yikes," is all he says regarding that, turning back to you. "I'm not interested in dating right now, to be honest. I’m quite a busy gentleman, you know?" 
“And you say ‘yikes’ to me?” Joaquín says immediately after, looking dumbfounded.
You chime in before any of them could add anything else regarding that. “Bucky?” you ask, turning to look at him as you await his answer.
It was a bold move to directly ask him that question. On one hand, you know Bucky has always been a loner so you’re almost certain that he’s single. But there’s always that tiny percentage of probability that you’ll learn a truth you’re not sure how you’ll handle. He’s your best friend, of course you’ll be happy if he’s happy…but the idea of him revealing to you that he’s dating someone might actually make you physically sick.
You notice Bucky gets uncomfortable right away. “I’m single too.”
The pleasant feeling of relief lasts just a few seconds. The fact that Sam laughs at Bucky’s reply has your mind spinning, not understanding why he would laugh at that. Why the fuck is he laughing? Should you start panicking already?
"Actually, our buddy has been on a few dating apps, I believe."
Oh no. 
Even when you try to remind yourself not to care about anything remotely romantic involving Bucky- or at least, not to care more than a platonic friend would, you can deny the news of him possibly dating someone or even just randomly talking to any person in those apps makes your stomach turn. It really wouldn't be dramatic to claim that you could quite literally throw up right now at the thought of him and someone else right now.
It's not common to hear any sort of updates regarding Bucky's love life because...well, there's never any developments. He's never shown interest in anyone, and as far as you know he's never had any sort of relationship with anyone like that– serious or casual. What if he's interested in exploring that part of his life now? What if he has found someone already and you're about to hear him talk all about them? It makes you genuinely sick, but you try your best to act as unbothered as you possibly can, forcing you to mask your disgust and heartbreak with pleasant surprise.
"Is that so?" is all you say.
He looks even more uncomfortable by the subject, choosing to look down at his almost finished beer. "It's not...I was just trying to put myself out there," he says awkwardly, shrugging. "Long story short, online dating is not for me. I hated it."
You could tell he doesn’t really like talking about this subject, so you try to quickly ease the tension with a bit of humor. Besides, you're probably better off without hearing anything regarding that topic anyway. "It's because you couldn't figure out how the whole swiping thing worked, isn't it?"
Bucky immediately seems to relax with your joke, chuckling a bit. "It took me a few days actually." He takes a quick pause before continuing. "I probably should've asked you for help."
If there was any hidden message behind his last statement, it completely goes over your head because you genuinely thought it was just part of your playful banter regarding his lack of skills when it comes to technology. You laugh, and in return Bucky offers you a smile because that's as much hinting as he dares to do out loud, especially if Sam and Joaquín are sitting right there. He's incredibly used to you never getting his subtle implications anyway.
In front of you, the other two guys are watching this exchange unfold, and it's hard to tell which one of them has a bigger urge to tell you to stop being so fucking oblivious already. As subtle as he can be, Joaquín pokes Sam's side with his elbow to give him a quick heads-up before speaking. "Considering everyone's almost finished, Sam and I are getting another round of drinks."
The two of them are standing up when they notice you're grabbing your purse and standing up as well. "Oh, I can go with you. I have to go to the restroom anyway."
The two of them want to yet again yell at you to please get a grip on the situation, but Sam just silently takes a seat as you and Joaquín go over to the bar, quickly telling him what you want to order before heading towards the restroom.
A few drinks later the four of you are finally leaving the bar. Sam and Joaquín left to their respective houses while you and Bucky shared an Uber back to his own place. He was kind enough to let you crash in his spare room for the night. It's not like this is the first time you've ever stayed at his apartment when you visit the boys, but you can't deny the idea is both thrilling and terrifying- not like anything would happen to make you feel like that...you two are just friends...but, still...your silly head likes to get silly ideas sometimes.
Deciding not to indulge in your little fantasies, you decide to start a conversation. "Update on the food?" you ask, turning to look at Bucky, who sits comfortably on the sofa of his living room.
"Like ten minutes away," he says, taking a quick look at the screen. "How come you haven't congratulated me for knowing how to order food with this thing?" he added with evident surprise, making you chuckle.
"Because you keep saying 'this thing' like it's some mysterious device completely unknown to mankind," you reply, and before you can stop yourself, you continue. "It's cute, I guess, so congratulations."
Bucky's grin grows wider. "Oh, so it's cute?"
You try really hard not to panic, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The fact that he seems to be enjoying what you just said makes it even worse, because you know he’ll use that to tease you now. He just finds any possible excuse to do it. "Cute as in lame."
He chuckles. "Right."
Not knowing what else to say, you clear your throat before walking towards him, taking a seat next to him as you try to come up with something else to change the subject immediately. "I'm starving," is all you say, mentally scolding you for such a poor effort.
As soon as you're sitting, you unsuccessfully try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he leans just a bit closer...perhaps if you weren't hyper vigilant whenever the two of you are too near you might've missed it. And then, he stretches his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you.
For a second, you even thought of mocking him for such a move, but bringing more attention to it would only make you that much nervous, and you really don't want to embarrass yourself. And most importantly, you don't want your silly mind and your silly heart to get their hopes up. You're just friends, nothing else.
"Me too," he agrees, the playful grin on his face still not disappearing. "Might have to steal a few fries from you."
"Oh, I'd really like to see you try stealing my food," you reply in the same playful tone, leaning just a little closer to him without even noticing that you were actually doing that.
"I think I deserve some compensation after what happened today. You know, for all the unnecessary ass-kicking I had to do."
"Just when I thought you had moved on from that!" you reply, jokingly slapping his knee. "It wasn't my fault, it was yours for not telling me the plan on time!"
"You should've just trusted me," he insists. "But you always have to be right on everything..."
You know he's joking. There's something about bantering with you that seems to absolutely fascinate him. "Yeah, and you always want to piss me off."
Bucky chuckles again, and that's when you feel his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his arm fully around you. What the actual fuck is going on. "What, you think I like pissing you off?" he asks, tone slightly lower than before, which inevitably makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Is that why you think I do it?"
You were quiet for a moment, your brain not entirely registering what's happening. "I mean...yeah."
He stops for a second, and you almost see a hint of hesitation on his face before he speaks, letting out a frustrated sigh. "For someone who claims to be so much more clever than anyone else, I would've expected you to figure it out sooner," he starts, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I've been actually flirting with you, doll."
The comment evidently takes you by surprise and all you can do is to stare back at him like a complete fool. His arm around your shoulders, the proximity, the fact he had the fucking audacity to call you that nickname...did you somehow fall asleep on his couch without noticing and this is the type of oddly-realistic dream your brain decided to come up with? Are you still standing there like a fool just fantasizing and this one just got way too immersive? And did he really just say that he's been flirting with you?
Noticing you weren't saying anything, he decides to continue, looking a little hesitant and disappointed with your silence. "You know, it'd be really nice if you say something..."
"Awful way to flirt," is all you could come up with, which immediately makes him burst out laughing. 
"Maybe," he agrees. "But I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. I mean…Sam and Joaquín did a long time ago."
"The three of you share the same brain cell, of course they figured it out a long time ago,” you reply, still in complete shock to be having this conversation with him. Were you really that blind? "You could’ve just asked me."
"You know I'm not direct like that," he replies, and the shy look on his face almost makes your heart melt. "Like I said, I was relying on your impressive intelligence to figure it out."
You let out a soft chuckle after his last comment, immediately giving him a warning look. "Don't." He looks back at you for a few seconds, almost wanting to challenge you after noticing the way you’re looking at him. Soon enough, he’s unable to hide his smirk anymore. "There it is," you point out, knowing he hates that.
Bucky lets out a soft grunt as a complaint, resting his head on your shoulder. Encouraged, you immediately move a hand up to his hair, affectionately playing with it. The two of you stay like that, simply enjoying being so close to each other. It feels incredibly right.
"So how do you feel?" he eventually asks, perhaps feeling braver to ask now that he doesn’t have to look into your eyes when he does.
You don’t reply right away, still feeling incredibly nervous despite knowing he does like you back. Eventually, you do build up the courage to say something. "I like you. Like, a lot."
Bucky moves back to look at you know. The look on his face gives you the impression that he wasn’t expecting you to be so honest with your answer, perhaps expecting another silly joke or sarcastic remark. And even though you thought about the possibility of choosing a more humorous approach, after keeping your feelings for him locked up and stored away for so long, you really needed to just say it.
Instead of saying something back, Bucky tightens his grip around your shoulders just enough, using his other hand to grab your chin right before kissing you. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you're quickly returning the kiss as you just completely melt in his arms, still trying to convince yourself that this is not some kind of hyper-realistic dream.
His hand swiftly moves to your cheek as the kiss continues, the gesture so incredibly delicate, a sharp contrast with the pure need he’s transmitting through the kiss. It’s desperate, passionate, intense…like he’s been waiting an entire lifetime to finally be able to experience this, grateful for the absolute privilege that it is to kiss you.
One of your hands moves up to the back of his neck and your touch seems to encourage him that much more because before you know it, he's taking the opportunity to gently bite your bottom lip, right before continuing to make out with you.
Much to yours and Bucky's disappointment, the sound of his apartment's doorbell echoes through the apartment, indicating the food you previously ordered has arrived.
He reluctantly pulls away with a soft grunt. "Food's here," he comments out loud, offering you a soft smile. He takes a brief moment to look at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek in an affectionate manner, dreading the idea of having to leave this couch. "I'll get it."
"I can help," you offer almost immediately.
Instead of replying right away, he leans in for a short kiss. "I'll get it," he insists, quickly making his way to the door after another buzz could be heard.
You sat in his living room in complete disbelief of what just happened, thankful that he's not here right now to see your goofy smile and blushed cheeks. He'd probably tease you to no end if he did see that.
Not knowing what else to do, you immediately reach for your phone, opening your messages. You knew exactly who would be the right people to share the news with.
'uhm so we just kissed??????' you texted, the first message in the group chat you just created with Sam and Joaquín.
Joaquín is the first one to reply. 'HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!'
'FUCKING FINALLY.' Sam texts shortly after.
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qivrae · 9 days ago
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mine - nsfw
spencer reid x afab!reader
a/n: what harm can a little friendliness do when youre at a bar with your coworkers and boyfriend?did i fall off guys?💔
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The bar hums with low music and clinking glasses, the kind of cozy place the BAU always seems to stumble into after wrapping a case out of town. It’s dim but warm, with wood-paneled walls and slightly sticky floors and the energy is that perfect mix of exhaustion and buzzed relief. You’re sitting near the end of a long table pushed together from smaller ones, knees touching Spencer’s under it—accidentally at first, then intentionally.
Emily’s to your left, halfway through a margarita and mid-story about a disaster Tinder date involving a magician and a live rabbit. “He said it was a ‘surprise element,’” she says, making air quotes. “I said I don’t want to date anyone who says the word ‘abracadabra’ in a sexual context.”
You snort into your drink. “Did he at least pull it out of a hat?”
“No. A fanny pack.” She shudders.
“Jesus,” Morgan mutters, leaning in across the table. “That’s not even the worst part. The real red flag was you agreeing to go out with a magician in the first place.”
“I was feeling adventurous!” Emily defends, throwing a napkin at him.
Hotch, surprisingly relaxed with a beer in hand and just shakes his head. “Remind me to check your judgment when we’re assigning interrogations.”
“Check your own, you’re the one who hired me,” she fires back, laughing. Conversation flows.
JJ’s talking about Henry’s newest obsession with dinosaurs, “He calls them ‘roars,’ which I think is honestly more accurate” and Garcia is showing you all a filtered picture of Sergio with tiny devil horns photoshopped on his head. And Spencer? He’s quiet beside you, fingers wrapped loosely around a glass of scotch he swore he didn’t like. His knee is still pressed to yours. You feel him glance at you every so often, like he wants to say something and isn’t sure how. Eventually, he does.
“I read a paper last week that said alcohol doesn’t actually lower your inhibitions,” he says, not looking at you. “It just impairs your ability to consider consequences.”
You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Is that your way of telling everyone you’re about to make a bad decision?”
His lips twitch into the barest smile. “No. Just… thinking out loud.”
Morgan leans in then, grinning. “Alright, y’all, I don’t know about you but my old man back is calling it a night.” A chorus of agreement follows—bags being gathered, jackets slung on, the check already halfway paid by Garcia who’s holding the receipt like a trophy.
“I think there’s still part of the tab open at the bar,” Spencer says, glancing around. Then he turns to you. “You wanna close it for me?”
You nod, taking his card and sliding out from the booth, smoothing your hands over your skirt. “Sure.” You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers on you a beat too long as you turn. Don’t see the flicker in his eyes when the bartender greets you with a smile that’s a little too friendly. At first, it’s all polite. Just a casual exchange—he confirms the card, prints the receipt. But then he makes a joke. Something about your drink choice.
“Classy and lethal,” he smiles, leaning on the bar like he has nowhere else to be. “That’s a rare combo.” You laugh. Just a little. Just enough to be polite.
You don’t realize how it looks. You’re still buzzed, still warm from the laughter with your team. You lean in slightly without meaning to, fingers brushing his when you sign the receipt. Across the bar Spencer’s still sitting at the table, arms crossed. His expression is unreadable. He watches you talk—sees how your lips part when you smile, how your weight shifts onto one hip, just the way it always does when you’re relaxed.
Morgan looks between the two of you, low whistle barely audible over the music. “Uh oh.”
Hotch doesn’t even turn. “Let it play out.”
“She’s just being nice,” JJ murmurs.
“Yeah,” Emily adds, “but look at Reid.”
He’s not fidgeting. Not rambling. He’s just… still. And that’s worse. You come back a minute later, receipt in hand and slide it across the table. “All set.”
“Thanks,” Spencer says. His voice is clipped. Short. His jaw tight as he stands and heads for the door. You fall into step behind him, suddenly hyper-aware of the silence. The others follow behind, a few trailing slower, probably already whispering. The ride back to the hotel is quiet. No one says a word. Spencer doesn’t even glance at you as he opens the door to the passenger side. And you? You sit there, heart thudding, as the air thickens around you like storm clouds gathering behind his eyes.
Because you know that silence means something’s coming. And whatever it is, it’s going to be loud when it finally breaks. You shift slightly in your seat, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself like it’ll shield you from the weight in the air. “Are you mad?” you finally ask. Quiet. Testing. He doesn’t answer right away. Doesn’t even blink. You almost think he won’t say anything at all—like he’s going to drive you both in silence all the way back to the hotel and just leave it at that. Let the tension rot between you.
“No,” he says. And it’s not convincing. Not even a little.
You blink at him, scoffing. “Okay. Great talk.” His fingers curl tighter.
“I’m not mad,” he says again, jaw stiff. “I’m just trying to process.”
“Process what?” His voice is low, sharp.
“Whether or not you were doing that to get a rise out of me.”
You stare at him. “Doing what?”
“The bartender, the laughing, the touching.” he says, eyes still forward.
“Oh my God,” you mutter, sitting back. “Are you serious right now?” Silence.
“Spencer. I wasn’t flirting. He made a comment. I was being polite.” He doesn’t answer. “You told me to close the tab,” you continue, voice rising a little. “What did you expect me to do? Glare at him?”
“I expected you not to smile like that,” he says tightly. “Not with him.” You open your mouth then close it. Because the way he says it—the way his voice drops on him—that’s not jealousy. That’s something deeper. Something territorial.
“You’re drunk,” you say quietly.
He exhales through his nose. “I’m observant.”
“Don’t profile me.” You stare out the window for the rest of the drive. The air between you crackles. It’s furious. It’s quiet. And it’s not done. When he pulls into the parking lot of your house, he doesn’t say a word. Just parks and climbs out, walking toward the entrance without waiting for you to catch up. You follow anyway. Neither of you say a thing as you move through the house.
Only when you reach your room—when the hallway ends ahead, empty and quiet—does Spencer finally speak. “I’m not mad,” he says again, voice low.
You stop walking. “Then what are you?”
He turns to you. His eyes are dark. Heavy. “I’m not used to feeling like I could lose something I haven’t even let myself want.”
It knocks the breath out of you. Just a little. “Spence—”
“I need to get this out of my system,” he says, stepping forward. He’s close. Closer than he’s been all night. His voice drops lower. “You’re mine.” Then he’s stepping into your guys’ room. And this time—this time it’s you who follows in silence.
You don’t even make it past the doorway. The second the lock clicks behind you, he turns—grabs you, pulls you in and kisses you like he’s trying to make up for the twenty minutes you spent with someone else. You gasp against his mouth, hands scrambling for balance as your back hits the door. “Spence—” You barely get the word out before his mouth is trailing down your jaw, then your throat.
“This is what you wanted?” he murmurs against your skin. “You wanted me to watch you flirt with him?”
You grab a fistful of his shirt. “I wasn’t flirting.” He scoffs, low and bitter.
“You were laughing at everything he said. Leaning in like he was saying something so fucking profound.” You swallow, breath catching as he shoves your jacket off and it hits the floor. His hands are on your waist, then your ass, dragging you toward him. You feel the hard line of his cock through his slacks, pressed flush to your stomach.
“It didn’t mean anything,” you whisper but your voice is shaky, already caving to the heat in his eyes.
“Sure didn’t look like that,” he mutters. Then he spins you around.
Your hands splay against the door, your chest pressed to it as he kicks your feet apart. His hand slides between your shoulder blades, pinning you there. “You looked happy,” he says, breath hot against your neck. “So tell me—why’d you look happier when you realized I was watching?”
You make a sound. It’s half a moan, half a gasp as he rolls his hips against your ass, slow, grinding, teasing. “Spencer—”
“No,” he cuts you off. “You don’t get to talk your way out of this.” His hand pushes under your waistband, fingers sliding past your underwear. He groans when he feels how wet you are. “Jesus,” he mutters. “You’re soaked.”
“I told you it wasn’t anything,” you whimper.
“Then why’re you like this?” He curls two fingers inside you, slow and firm. “Why’d watching me lose my mind turn you on?” You moan—head dropping forward, legs going soft. His other hand comes around and grabs your throat, squeezing softly. His thumb strokes over your pulse point then down, dragging along your collarbone. You grind back against him instinctively, needing more friction but he pulls his fingers free, slick and slow. He groans. “You taste so good.”
You whimper. “Spence…”
“I’m not gonna let you off easy,” he breathes. “You don’t get to play innocent and then fall apart the second I touch you.” He undoes his belt—slow and loud, letting the sound echo. You twitch at the sound, pressing harder into the door. He pulls his cock out, presses the head against your entrance but doesn’t push in. “You want it?” he asks.
“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, I do.”
He doesn’t move. “Then say you’re mine.”
You let out a broken moan. “Spencer.”
“Say it.” He breathes
“I’m yours. I’m yours, Spencer—” And then he pushes in, slow and deep, with a groan like he’s waited all night for this. Your eyes squeeze shut. The stretch is perfect. He doesn’t move at first, just holds you there—pressed full of him, his hand still loosely at your throat, his hips locked against yours.
You let out a choked whimper. He pulls back slowly, then thrusts in hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. You cry out, head lolling back onto his shoulder. He bites your neck, open-mouthed and rough. You try to speak, try to apologize but all that comes out is a breathy moan. “Shhh,” he soothes, voice dark. “You don’t need to say anything. Just take it.” He keeps fucking into you—long strokes, steady rhythm. Not fast, not yet. Just deep. Just punishing enough.
He leans in close, breath heavy in your ear. “You know,” he murmurs, “sex increases dopamine and oxytocin levels. It heightens emotional memory. Which means you’re going to remember every single second of this.” You shudder, toes curling, thighs shaking. “That’s why I’m not letting you finish,” he says, biting your shoulder. “Not soon. I want this burned into your fucking brain.” You let out a broken moan, desperate for more. For release. For anything. And then he pulls out. You whimper at the loss, hips twitching back toward him, chasing it. But he doesn’t give in. He steps back, pants open, eyes dark, jaw clenched.
He doesn’t give you time to recover from the loss of him. The second you shift to face him, his hands are on your hips again, walking you backwards—step by step—until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. “You think you get to do whatever you want,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “and I won’t do something about it?”
Then he pushes you—not hard but firm—until you fall back onto the bed with a breathy sound. The mattress bounces slightly under you, your body catching on the sheets as he moves between your legs without hesitation. You reach for him, maybe to pull him back on top of you but he shakes his head once. Then, very deliberately, he sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed. “No. You don’t get to call the shots right now.”
Your thighs are still spread from earlier, underwear long discarded somewhere in the room. His hands slide up the inside of your legs, fingers grazing your skin like he’s testing the weight of your want.
“Baby,” he says, his voice going a little dreamy—dangerous, like the kind of tangent he only slips into when he’s in full profiler mode, “there’s this study about anticipation and the way it activates the caudate nucleus. It’s the same part of the brain that lights up during addiction.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. Then another, slower this time, higher.
“You’re saying I’m an addiction now?” you breathe out, chest rising and falling fast.
“I’m saying,” he murmurs, lips brushing just barely over your folds, “that I’ve been getting high off your reactions all night. And I’m not even close to done.”
You let out a gasp as his tongue finally drags through your slick folds—slow and smooth, like he’s savoring it. Your back arches immediately, hands clutching the comforter. He groans softly at the taste, his fingers tightening on your thighs. “God,” he mumbles, already going in again, firmer this time. “I should’ve done this hours ago.” You try to speak, try to reply with something smug or sarcastic but the second he wraps his mouth around you, it’s gone—your brain blanks, your legs jerk and all you can do is moan.
He’s methodical with it—of course he is. Spencer Reid with a vendetta and something to prove and he’s proving it with every flick of his tongue, every shift of his jaw. He pulls back just enough to say, “You know I could explain exactly what I’m doing to your nerve endings. How I’m stimulating the pudendal nerve to maximize your orgasmic response.”
You let out a breathless laugh, even as your hips buck toward him. “You’re such a fucking nerd—”
He growls against you and the vibration sends a shock straight through you. “You love it,” he mutters, before sucking hard again. You cry out, loud and open and his hands move to pin your hips to the bed—holding you still, making you take every second of it.
He alternates between teasing flicks and deep, slow licks that leave you shaking. You can feel how wet you are, dripping down your thighs, soaking into the sheets. He’s moaning against you like he’s starved, like this is something he’s been dreaming about since the second you met but of course he stops. You lift your head with eyes glassy and parted lips. “What—“
“I want to be inside you when you come.” He’s already climbing onto the bed, already shoving his pants down enough to free himself again. You see the dark flush on his face, his pupils blown, the sheen of sweat on his skin. His cock is red and hard, already leaking at the tip. He drags you further up the bed, flipping you onto your stomach before you can even react.
“Oh my God—”
“Don’t act surprised,” he grits out, lining himself up again. “You knew what you were doing tonight.” You let out a broken moan into the pillow as he thrusts in again—hard, deep, the angle even better from behind. His hand snakes under your torso, presses to your stomach as he pulls your hips back into his. “Fuck, you feel good like this,” he mutters. “You feel—God—you feel made for me.” You whimper, arching into him.
“I’m not stopping until you scream,” he growls, voice low and hot against your shoulder. “I want the whole fucking building to hear how good I fuck you.” Your body is barely able to keep up with his pace. Spencer’s thrusts are fast, brutal, each one pushing you closer to the edge and yet you can barely register it because your head’s still spinning from the way he’s fucking you. His fingers grip your hips, pulling you back against him, grinding deeper as his cock slides in and out of you. Each stroke feels like a reminder of how far gone you’ve both become and you can’t help but meet him halfway, pushing your ass back onto him, inviting him to go harder. To take more. “Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” Spencer growls, his breath hot and uneven against your back. “I’m never going to get enough of this. I’ve been dying for this all night. I’ve wanted to feel you like this all night—fucking you just the way you deserve.”
His hand snakes between your legs, fingers pressing against your clit roughly. It’s so much, so overwhelming, and you whimper, unable to stop yourself from clenching around him. “Yeah,” Spencer says, his voice dripping with that controlling edge. “Squeeze me, baby. Squeeze around me like you’re begging for it.”
Your breath catches in your throat when you try to respond as he drives in deep, his pelvis slapping against your ass. The sound of it echoes in the room, each hit of his body against yours pushing you further into a daze. “You love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, like he’s not even out of breath. “You love the way I fuck you. You’re made for me. Made for this.” You feel his fingers tighten on your hips, digging in hard enough to leave marks as he holds you in place. It’s like he owns you in this moment—like everything you are is his. The thought only makes you wetter, makes you want to prove him right, to show him just how much you need him. You nod, almost desperately wanting to please him, to let him know you’re completely his.
“Yes,” you manage to get out, your voice a broken whimper. “I love it.”
“That’s right,” Spencer murmurs. “You’re mine. Just mine. Nobody fucks you like this. Not that bartender. Not anyone. Only me.” The way he says it, his voice low, dripping with authority—it makes you gasp, makes you crave more. The dominance in his tone hits something deep inside you, a switch that’s only been waiting for him to flip. Spencer pulls your hair, yanking your head back until your back arches and you cry out at the sting, your body forced to meet his thrusts even more forcefully. His cock fills you, stretching you and it’s all you can do to hang on as he drives into you with a brutal rhythm.
“You want me to ruin you?” Spencer grins darkly, his breath ragged in your ear. “Want me to make you mine? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight tomorrow?”
“Yes,” you whisper, desperate, your hands clawing at the sheets beneath you. “I want it. I want you.”
His fingers grip your throat and squeezes, a reminder of his control. Of how much power he holds over you, how much he fucking owns you. “Tell me who you belong to,” he demands and you’re so far gone, so desperate for him that you don’t even hesitate.
“You,” you say breathlessly, barely able to get the words out. “I belong to you, Spencer.”
“Good girl,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “That’s all you had to say.” He shifts his angle, thrusting deeper. The shift makes you see stars, the air catching in your lungs as your body jerks forward with each punishing thrust. You’re soaked and you don’t know if it’s from your own arousal or the fact that Spencer’s fingers are still working your clit, pushing you closer to the edge, making everything burn.
“Made for me,” Spencer grunts, his voice darker now. “Every inch of you. You love being fucked like this. You love knowing nobody else gets to have you like I do.”
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Yes. Yes, only you.”
His hand pulls you up slightly, just enough for your chest to meet his. He’s still fucking you relentlessly from behind, every thrust calculated, each one punctuated by his dirty words.“You’re such a fucking mess for me, I can feel it,” he says, his voice rough as he watches you collapse back into the pillows. “Can’t even talk straight anymore. Can’t even think straight. All you can do is beg for me.”
“Please,” you breathe, on the edge of something, your fingers digging into the sheets as you push back against him. “Please let me come.”
He doesn’t answer at first, just keeps fucking you with that maddening rhythm, his cock hitting so deep you’re seeing stars. But then he finally speaks. “You can come,” he murmurs. “All over my cock.”
Your entire body tightens at his words and he picks up his pace. You can’t hold back anymore. You don’t even care that you’re so close to the edge—you just need him to finish it. You need him to make you come. Spencer’s grip on your hair tightens as he slams into you once more, making you scream as your orgasm crashes over you. It’s intense, almost violent and you come undone, your body jerking as he fucks you through it, using your body as his own personal release.
“Good girl,” he breathes, voice barely a whisper in your ear as you shake beneath him, still trying to catch your breath. You feel the last thrusts and finally, he comes inside you. He’s groaning into the crook of your neck as his body shudders against yours. For a moment, the only sounds are his breath and the steady beat of your heart, both of you slowly coming down from the high. He’s whispering “Mine.” over and over again, his high slowly leaving him.
216 notes · View notes
zillabean · 2 months ago
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MADS MIKKELSEN SIGNED MY HANNIBAL BODY PILLOW 💖💖💖
Thanks ECCC, for another wonderful Hannibal Reunion Weekend! ❤️ I had an absolutely lovely time with Mads and Hugh, and all my awesome Fannibal friends! Always so sad when it’s over, but very grateful for all the fun memories. Here are a few fun highlights!
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I gifted Mads some caramels and he smiled and goes “Oh, are these chocolates?” I told him they were handmade caramels and he was like “Ooh!”, held up the box and did this cute smoochy kiss at it and then gave it to his handler (Steven again!) to add to his gift stash. 🎁
I asked him to sign a few figures for me and that I would have another new Embarrassing Thing for him later. (“Alright, then!”) I was sheepish about it and said “I hope you don’t mind…!” and he was like “I don’t mind at all, bring it on!” and did this Gimme Gimme hand motion. 😆
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I told him it was maybe about as weird as The Boobies (the Hannibal mousepad), but he was totally fine with that so maybe it wasn’t a big deal. 🤣 He smiled and said “🎵~You’re The Booby Girl~🎵!” and I just started laughing and said “Why yes I am!” 😌
The fact that Mads Mikkelsen knows me as The Booby Girl is a title I will wear with pride.
“The Girl With the Tiddies” and “Chicago Girl”, he called me at RDC6.
'Tis an honor, sir~ 🤣
I told him I appreciated his tolerance for my nonsense and he smirked, “I bet your family does, too.” 😏 TERRIBLE MAN. 🤣 I got a selfie with him and he gave me a fist bump and a “see ya later”~ ❤️
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The Hannibal Panel itself was, as usual, WONDERFUL. Mads & Hugh are just fantastic! Their chemistry and friendship really shines through in their easy way of chatting with each other, and it’s always such a joy to see them interacting and chatting about our favorite series. ❤️
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I’m not going to do a whole write-up about it as the panel is viewable online, and others have posted far better quality photos than any of mine came out. I’m always doing my very best to ‘live in the moment’ during the panels because I just want to take it all in as best I can!
For my photo ops Mads was so sweet! ❤️ When I came up, he turned to me and goes “There she is! C’mere~” and held his arms open and did this cute beckoning hand gesture to bring me over, and let me hug him for the photo ❤️☺️
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When I asked him to sign my Hannibal pillow case he goes “Let’s do it, give it here, let’s go! 😤💪🏻 *gimme gimme hand gestures again* No hesitance at all, no weird looks, he was all in 🤣 What a seriously great sport! 💖
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He also signed some of my art for me (which I gifted him as well) and he said they were very nice~ 🥹💖
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I later went for my duo photo with Mads and Hugh and when it got to my turn and Mads saw me, he again goes “Oh, here she is!” and did his cute customary beckoning hand motions, and Hugh gave me a big smile “Hello!” ❤️
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Eryn later gifted me her photo op as she was stuck in the Summit building and couldn’t make it back to the Arch in time for a pic, so she was like “HERE, GO” and so I was able to sneak in a bonus solo photo at, literally, the very last minute before Mads left.
Mads was just chilling in the chairs with his handlers, and I told him “my friend was supposed to be here but she couldn’t make it in time, so she gave me her ticket.” Mads grinned “Well then it will just be the 2 of us this time, c’mere” and let me give him a big hug again. 🥹
I had a few more really memorable and funny interactions with him but this post is getting long enough so those are posted on my patreon. My lucky patrons can read all my Mads Mikkelsen squealing and gushing over there. 🤣 (You guys get to see him basically call me TINY haha 🤣)
I also had a few interactions with Hugh which were very chill and nice! ❤️ I asked him to sign my art and gifted him a print as well and he was very sweet. He doesn’t see my silly face as often as Mads so I don’t think he recognizes me at all, but he is always kind and courteous!
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I also managed to get Gina Torres to sign my Hannibal book! She is absolutely radiant in person, and I told her that her Bella was just heartbreaking in the show. She agreed, and said she kept hoping she'd beat him (Hannibal, at his game), but... 💔 Very lovely woman.
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I also got to see my sweet friend Tia Ballard a few times! Mads & Hugh didn't arrive until Saturday so I haunted Tia whenever I had a chance on Thursday and Friday when she wasn't too busy. She is just the SWEETEST. So sweet, so lovely, so talented! A really radiant soul. 💖
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The rest of the con was just a whirlwind of fun with Fannibal friends! The Hannibal Meat Up went wonderfully, so many folks attended and we had a great time! Various Fannibal groups came and went throughout the hour. Lots of gift exchanges and chatting. Thank you for coming! 💖
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Overall, a very fun con, as always! I do hope there will be more opportunities again in the future, and that I will be blessed and lucky enough to partake and see everyone again. ❤️
ALSO BONUS: Eryn, her husband and I went and got the most EXTRA hot pot we could 🥩🥘🍲🤣
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writingbuckets · 4 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢
paige bueckers x podcaster!reader
wc: 5.5k
synopsis: Y/N and Paige’s relationship evolves from a slow burn to a deep, committed love as they navigate the complexities of their careers and dreams.
warnings: emotional tension, angst, jealousy, explicit sexual content, fluff, relationship growth
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a/n: second to last part, yip yip!! i do have some ideas for one shots based in the universe that i'm really excited to write!!!
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The past few months had been nothing short of blissful. Waking up to Paige’s warm smile, the mornings spent tangled in each other’s arms, and the quiet, stolen moments before the world came knocking—everything felt perfect. Despite the pressures of her rising basketball stardom and your climb in the podcasting world, the two of you had created a safe haven where fame and expectations couldn’t touch you.
It wasn’t just the big, romantic gestures—though Paige’s surprise road trips and thoughtful gifts were nothing to scoff at. It was the little things that made your relationship feel unshakable: the way she instinctively reached for your hand in crowded rooms, the way her laughter filled the silence when you shared dumb inside jokes, and the way she always managed to make you feel like the most important person in her orbit.
Of course, there had been challenges. Navigating the complexities of her public life and your desire for privacy was never easy, but you’d always found a way to meet in the middle. Paige was fiercely protective of you, and while the occasional paparazzi photo or speculative headline was frustrating, it never felt like more than a passing inconvenience.
You thought you’d found a balance—a way to thrive as individuals while building something meaningful together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. And for a while, that had been enough. 
Until now.
The soft hum of music played in the background as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Paige rinse the dishes from dinner. It had been her turn to cook, and she’d outdone herself with a recipe she’d picked up from the internet.
“I’m just saying,” Paige began, flashing you a teasing grin over her shoulder, “you were a little too impressed for something that came out of a fifteen-second video.”
You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned back. “What can I say? I’m easily won over by good food.”
Paige shook her head, setting the last plate in the drying rack before wiping her hands on a towel. “Noted. Food’s the way to your heart. Got it.”
As she turned to face you, she stepped closer, her damp hands finding your waist. Her touch was casual, intimate, like it had been a thousand times before, but it still sent warmth spreading through you.
“You’re lucky I let you in my kitchen,” you teased, your hands sliding up to rest on her shoulders.
“Oh, please,” she replied, smirking. “Your kitchen loves me. It told me.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. Moments like these—light, easy, filled with laughter—were what you cherished most about being with her. Just the two of you in your little world, where nothing else mattered.
Paige’s arms tightened around your waist, and you rested your chin on her shoulder, savoring the quiet hum of her presence. The faint chatter of the TV in the background barely registered as she pulled you closer.
“You know,” she said, voice soft with mock seriousness, “we could just cancel all our plans forever and do this every night.”
“Tempting,” you replied, smiling into her collarbone, “but you’d get bored of me eventually.”
“Never.” Paige leaned back just enough to meet your eyes, her expression earnest.
Before you could respond, the sound of the TV caught your attention. A familiar jingle—ESPN’s sports coverage—signaled the beginning of a new segment. You pulled away slightly, glancing at the screen, where a panel of analysts were deep in discussion.
“…and with the Women’s NBA Draft just around the corner, all eyes are on Paige Bueckers,” one of them said, a glossy headshot of Paige flashing onto the screen. “She’s the clear favorite for the number-one pick, and teams across the country are already vying for the chance to have her on their roster.”
Paige let out a soft laugh, her fingers instinctively brushing against the fabric of your shirt as her grip on your waist loosened. She turned her attention to the TV, where ESPN analysts were dissecting every possible scenario for her future. "Man, they really don’t let up, do they?" she said, her tone laced with amusement, though there was a hint of nervous energy beneath it.
The corners of her lips tugged upward, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to match her smile. She moved towards the TV, the light from the screen flickered across her face, highlighting the easy confidence in her expression, the kind you admired—and sometimes envied. You followed her to the couch while the analysts continued their animated chatter, debating potential fits for Paige’s skillset, throwing out city names like they were playing a game of darts.
Dallas. Seattle. Los Angeles.
Each name felt like a small pinprick against your heart, sharp and impossible to ignore. The map of your life, once neatly outlined, suddenly felt scattered, its pieces floating far beyond your reach.
"They’re hyping you up pretty hard," you said, forcing a lightness into your tone that didn’t match the weight pressing on your chest. Your voice wavered just enough to betray you, and Paige’s eyes flicked toward you, a faint crease forming between her brows.
"You okay?" she asked, her head tilting slightly as she studied your face. Her hand slid back to your waist, her thumb brushing soothing circles against your side—a small, grounding gesture she always did when she sensed something was off.
You blinked, willing the heavy feeling to ease, and offered a quick nod. "Yeah, of course," you replied, though the words sounded hollow even to you. "Just... big changes, you know?"
Her lips parted, as though she was about to say something, but the voice of one of the analysts cut through the moment. "Paige Bueckers is a generational talent, the kind of player who can turn a struggling franchise into a contender. Wherever she ends up, she’ll be the face of the team—and the league—for years to come."
Paige smirked, her eyes flickering back to the screen. "No pressure, right?" she joked, her laugh light and airy.
You managed a faint chuckle, but your gaze drifted back to the TV. The words echoed in your mind—wherever she ends up. The reality of it was sinking in now, each city they mentioned feeling like a little reminder of how far she could be from here. From you. 
Your stomach churned, the what-ifs swirling in your mind, but you swallowed the lump in your throat and tightened your grip on her arm. "No pressure," you echoed softly, your attempt at a smile faltering as the weight of the conversation you both needed to have settled heavily in the room.
You managed a soft laugh, but the sound felt foreign, caught somewhere between your chest and throat. Your mind, however, was a whirlwind—spinning with a thousand questions, a thousand uncertainties. The thought of Paige leaving, of her packing up and moving thousands of miles away, twisted itself deeper into your thoughts. It was a jarring reality, one that you hadn’t quite processed until now. The idea of her being so far, of the life you’d been building together being uprooted, gnawed at you like an ache you couldn’t shake. For a fleeting moment, the cozy warmth of the evening, the easy comfort of the couch and Paige’s arms around you, seemed to dim—fading into the background, as if overshadowed by the looming storm in your mind.
You shifted in Paige’s embrace, adjusting to face her more fully. Her body heat, once soothing, now felt distant, like an anchor too far out of reach. The soft glow of the TV, once so comforting with its familiar noise, faded into mere background hum. Yet the words they’d been saying—about Paige’s future, her draft prospects, her potential to be the face of an entire team—those words lingered. They clung to the air between you like smoke. 
Your fingers found the hem of her hoodie, absently twisting the fabric between your fingers as you fought to steady the rising tide of emotions threatening to spill over. This conversation had been coming for weeks, and you knew it, but hearing it all laid bare, with the prospect of her leaving becoming real, was harder than you’d expected.
“Paige,” you started, your voice quieter than you intended, cautious as it slipped from your lips. You swallowed once, gathering the right words—words that wouldn’t send her into defense mode, words that wouldn’t make her think you were doubting her. You fidgeted with the fabric, finding it oddly grounding as you tried to put your thoughts together. “Have you thought about what’s going to happen… after the draft?”
The question hung in the air, delicate and fragile. You hoped it wouldn’t shatter everything you’d built.
Paige blinked, her gaze briefly pulling away from yours as she processed your words. For a second, her expression was unreadable, the usual openness in her eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, after a breath, she shrugged, her shoulders lifting in a casual, almost dismissive gesture. "Not really," she replied, her voice light, too light. "I mean, we’ll figure it out."
Her words were meant to be reassuring, but they felt hollow, like a promise she hadn’t fully thought through. The ease with which she’d brushed off the question—the lack of real consideration in her answer—struck you like a sudden chill.
Her nonchalance stung more than you expected, like a sharp, sudden crack that left a lingering ache behind. You had always admired how Paige could stay so effortlessly confident, but in this moment, her casual demeanor felt like a wall you couldn’t get past. The way she dismissed the weight of the conversation, as if it was nothing more than a passing thought, made your heart sink deeper. You needed clarity—needed her to see just how serious this was—but her tone only made the tension between you feel heavier, as if you were both in two completely different worlds.
You blinked, trying to steady your breathing. Your heart raced, the knot in your chest tightening as you processed her response. We’ll figure it out, she had said. But you weren’t sure that was true. 
The more you thought about it, the more it gnawed at you. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to think about your own life, your own career, your own future in all of this. You’d been so caught up in supporting her, in being there for her as she prepared for this monumental step, that you hadn’t paused to ask the most important question: What about me?
“Figure it out how?” you asked, your voice wavering despite your best efforts to sound steady. You could feel the pressure building in your chest, the familiar anxiety of facing something you didn’t want to face, but you couldn’t just let this go. You needed her to see the stakes.
Paige let out a soft exhale and leaned back into the couch with a lazy stretch, her muscles flexing under her hoodie as she made herself comfortable, completely unaware—or maybe just unconcerned—about how the words she was saying were affecting you. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice relaxed, as if she had no cares in the world. “I’ll move wherever I get drafted, and you’ll come with me. Right?”
Her words hit you like a slap, so unexpectedly hard that they left you momentarily stunned. The assumption in her voice, the casualness, it felt like a complete oversight, like she hadn't even taken a second to consider what it might mean for you. The air between you seemed to freeze, the space on the couch growing wider as you recoiled, pulling back just enough to distance yourself from the weight of her statement.
You blinked, your chest tightening as you processed what she’d just said. You searched her face, her eyes, hoping to see a flicker of recognition—some sign that she realized the enormity of what she was suggesting. But there was nothing. She looked... calm. Completely at ease. Like she had just suggested picking a place to eat for dinner or choosing a movie to watch. Her expression was so serene that it almost made you question if she had really understood the magnitude of her words.
You’ll come with me. Right?
"Wait," you said, your voice quieter than it had been a moment ago, but the edge of sharpness in it still made you pause. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, but it was hard when her casual assumption hit you like a wave. "You just assumed I’d uproot my whole life and move with you?"
It felt like a jolt of cold reality that you weren’t prepared for, and as much as you wanted to remain calm, the frustration bubbled up inside of you. The way she had dismissed your career, your life, your plans, as though they were secondary to her dreams... it wasn’t just unfair—it was hurtful.
Paige's brow furrowed slightly as she processed your words. She shifted, sitting up straighter now, her posture more defensive. "Well, yeah. I mean... isn’t that what people do when they’re committed? I thought we were on the same page about this." She leaned forward slightly, her tone still casual, but there was a hint of confusion creeping into her voice as she tried to reconcile the difference between her perception and yours.
Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You took another breath, letting the anger simmer beneath the surface without letting it completely take over. You needed to get your point across without letting the frustration drown you. "On the same page?" you repeated, your voice steady but thick with disbelief. A soft, incredulous laugh escaped you, but it held no humor. "Paige, we’ve never even talked about this. Not once."
The words felt heavy in the air as you glanced at her, your gaze steady and controlled despite the way your stomach twisted. She was still looking at you with that same puzzled expression, as if the idea that you’d feel any differently hadn’t even occurred to her.
"You just decided for me that I’d leave my job, my friends, everything, to follow you?" You let the question hang in the air, each word deliberate, your calm voice betraying none of the overwhelming emotions that had started to churn inside. It was as if you were watching yourself from outside your body, trying to make sense of this entire conversation, this entire situation. How had things gotten to this point without either of you discussing the most basic of expectations?
There was a brief silence between you as you let the weight of your words sink in. Paige’s expression shifted then, her brow furrowing deeper as she processed your reaction. But even in the quiet that followed, you could see the realization dawning on her. She had never really thought about what it would mean for you—she had assumed that because her path was clear, everyone else’s would align with it too.
The thought that she hadn’t considered your life, your dreams, your commitments, hurt more than you expected.
She looked genuinely taken aback, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and surprise. For a brief moment, she seemed to freeze, as if the possibility that this might actually be a big deal had never even crossed her mind. The way her gaze darted from you to the space between you both was enough to make you feel like an invisible wall was slowly building. “I didn’t think it would be…” Her voice trailed off for a second as she searched for the right words, the weight of your unspoken frustrations hanging heavy between you. “I didn’t think it would be an issue. You love me, and I love you. Isn’t that what matters?”
You found yourself responding before you could stop it, the hurt leaking through in the sharpness of your voice. “You don’t think my life matters?” you shot back, the words tumbling out like a dam breaking. The hurt was so raw, so real, that you couldn’t mask it, couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t a breaking point for you.
Paige's face twisted in confusion, like she couldn’t fully process the weight of what you were saying. Her eyebrows knit together, her lips pressed into a tight line as she tried to piece together your reaction. “What? No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Her voice was defensive now, the tone shifting from confusion to frustration, a hint of impatience creeping in. She leaned back slightly, her body language closed off, and you could see the frustration building in her eyes. “But come on, it’s not like your podcast can’t be done anywhere. It’s not like it’s… a real job.” The moment the words left her mouth, her eyes widened slightly, as if she suddenly realized the weight of what she’d just said. It was a fleeting expression, gone as quickly as it came, but it was enough to make the air around you feel suffocating.
Her words hit like a slap, and you froze, feeling the air in the room grow thick with tension. The way she said it—casually, without a second thought—made something inside you snap. Your mind raced, trying to process how she could belittle something you had poured your heart into for years. Something that wasn’t just a passion but a future you had worked tirelessly toward.
For a moment, you couldn’t speak. The words she’d just spoken clung to the air between you like poison, and the silence felt heavier than anything you’d ever experienced. Paige, still unaware of how deeply her words had cut, shifted uncomfortably on the couch, as if she was expecting this to blow over quickly. But you couldn’t let it slide—not this time.
Your eyes met hers, your jaw tightening with resolve as you finally found your voice. "You have no idea how much I’ve invested in this—how much it means to me. It’s not just some side hobby, Paige. It’s my career. It’s my future." You stood up slowly, the calm you’d been holding onto slipping as you struggled to keep it together. "I don’t expect you to understand what it takes, but don’t you dare act like it isn’t important."
Her eyes flickered with guilt, but there was also a stubbornness there, a refusal to fully comprehend the depth of your frustration. She opened her mouth to say something but paused, as if she finally realized how far this had gone—how wrong she’d been. The air between you both grew thick with unspoken apologies and lingering questions.
Your stomach dropped at the silence, a heavy, hollow sensation filling you from the inside out, and the room seemed to stretch and contract all at once. The warmth of the evening was now completely gone, replaced by the cold reality of what she’d implied. The words she’d thrown out so carelessly reverberated in your mind, each one growing sharper, more painful the longer you thought about it.
You stared at her, searching her face for some sign that this was a misunderstanding, but all you saw was a mix of confusion and regret, too little, too late. The hurt came crashing over you in waves, and you felt it all at once—a rush of anger, disappointment, and sadness that left you breathless. It was like a dam had broken, and the flood of emotions poured out before you could even process them.
“Wow,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief. You shook your head slowly, a bitter laugh escaping your lips, though it didn’t feel at all like something to laugh about. “You have nothing to say?”
You felt the anger bubble up, making it impossible to stay still. “Y/N, that’s not what I—” she began, but you didn’t give her the chance to finish. The words were like a knee-jerk reaction, a defense mechanism you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Don’t,” you cut her off, the words sharp and final as you stood, distancing yourself both physically and emotionally. You took a few steps away, the space between you growing wider with every second that passed. Your chest tightened, a mix of hurt and frustration making it harder to breathe. “Just don’t.”
Paige opened her mouth to argue but stopped, her lips pressing into a thin line. The tension in the air was palpable, every word unsaid only deepening the divide between you.
You didn’t want to hear her excuses. You didn’t want to listen to her try and explain away the damage she’d caused with a single careless comment. It was as if she didn’t even recognize the weight of your sacrifices, the hours of work, the relentless drive that had gone into making the podcast something you could be proud of.
You wrapped your arms around yourself and turned away, the cold creeping in even as the air in the room thickened. You wanted to scream, to ask her how she could be so blind, but all that came out was silence—heavy, suffocating silence that stretched between you like an impenetrable wall.
 The stillness of the room felt suffocating as you turned back toward Paige, your eyes narrowing slightly as you watched her shift uncomfortably, her expression waver between frustration and guilt. But it wasn’t enough—none of it was enough—to calm the anger and hurt that was boiling inside you, threatening to spill over.
“Do you even understand what my podcast means to me?” you asked, your voice trembling at first but quickly steadying with each word. You couldn’t stop now. The words felt like they were clawing their way out of you, desperate to be heard, to make her understand. “It’s not just some hobby I do for fun. It’s my passion, Paige. It started as this little thing Taylor and I threw together in college, sure. But it grew. We grew. We’ve built something that people actually care about. Something I care about.”
You took a deep breath, the silence between you pressing on your chest, but you continued, not giving her the chance to interrupt. “Do you realize how much work I’ve put into this? The late nights researching, the hours of editing, the moments of doubt where I questioned if it was even worth it... But I kept going, Paige. I kept going because it meant something to me. Because it was more than just an idea—it was my life.”
You paced again, unable to stay still, the agitation making it harder to find the right words. “And now, you’re telling me that I can just drop everything and follow you wherever you go. Like this—” you motioned to the space between you, gesturing at the room, the life you had built around the podcast, “—is all so disposable. That my career, my dreams, don’t mean anything in comparison to yours.”
You stopped walking, standing still now, the weight of your own words sinking in. The room felt thick with emotion, your chest tight as you tried to steady your breathing. Paige looked at you, her face a mix of confusion and guilt, but you weren’t sure if she was seeing you—or just the frustration of the situation.
“You never asked me, Paige,” you said quietly, but there was an edge to your voice now, one you couldn’t suppress. “You never gave me the chance to decide what I want to do. You just assumed. You assumed that my life was secondary to yours. And that hurts more than anything.”
The silence stretched out again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t the heavy, suffocating silence of earlier. It was quieter—filled with the weight of things left unsaid, of walls that were now higher than they had been moments ago. And no matter how badly you wanted to go back to the way things were, you couldn’t ignore the sting of her words, the hurt of being overlooked.
Paige opened her mouth to respond, but you held up a hand to stop her, your words spilling out now like a dam breaking.
“When I started it, I thought it would be a stepping stone, you know?” you said, your voice softening slightly as you let the weight of the memory carry your words. The anger was still there, but it was now laced with a quiet sadness, the kind of sadness that came from realizing something you loved might not matter to the person who meant the most to you. “A way to get into sports broadcasting someday. Just a way to prove myself in a world where everyone told me I had to be more than just ‘the girl with a mic.’ But it turned into so much more. It grew into something I didn’t expect. It became my purpose, Paige.”
You paused, feeling the words weigh heavy in your chest as they tumbled out. “We get messages from listeners—real people—saying our episodes helped them find their voice, or gave them the confidence to chase their dreams. They’ve told us we’ve made them feel seen, heard. Do you know what that feels like? To have someone tell you that you’ve made a difference in their life, even if it’s just in a small way? That the words you’ve said, the stories you’ve shared, have actually meant something to them?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard as your thoughts started to spill faster, more desperately. “I can’t just leave that behind, Paige. It’s not just something I can put on pause. It’s part of who I am now. It’s everything I’ve worked for. Taylor and I built this thing together. We’ve spent years finding our rhythm, figuring out how to work seamlessly as a team. That doesn’t just happen over Zoom. I can’t replicate that through a screen." You paused, your voice softening. "And even if we tried, it wouldn’t feel the same. The podcast wouldn’t feel the same."
Your voice trembled with the weight of the truth, the truth that felt like a wall between you and Paige. She was listening now, her gaze softening, but there was a distant look in her eyes. It was the look of someone who didn’t quite get it, not yet—not fully. And it stung, the idea that she still didn’t understand how much this meant to you.
Her gaze softened slightly at your words, but you didn’t let it distract you. The vulnerability in your voice, the quiet ache of wanting her to understand, was a double-edged sword. You needed her to understand, but you couldn’t afford to soften what you were saying now. “This isn’t just about you, or me, or us. This is about everything I’ve built—everything I’ve sacrificed. I need you to see that.”
Paige flinched at your words, guilt flashing in her eyes, but you weren’t done.
“I love you, Paige. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. But I can’t lose myself in the process. I won’t. And I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”
The room fell silent except for the faint murmur of the TV in the background. Paige looked down at her hands, her expression unreadable, as you stood there, waiting for her to say something, anything, that could fix the growing chasm between you.
Paige sat there in silence, the only sound in the room being the faint tapping of her fingers against the side table, each tap like a beat of an unsaid apology. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, but it was clear she wasn’t seeing it. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, turning over her words and the weight of your frustration. The tension between you two hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
When she finally lifted her eyes to meet yours, the expression there was different—vulnerable, uncertain, like she was trying to piece together the right words but couldn’t find the thread. Her voice was soft, carrying a hint of something fragile, something far more careful than before. "I didn’t mean to make it sound like what you do isn’t important," she said, her voice wavering just a bit. "I know how much your podcast means to you. I’ve seen how hard you work on it—how late you stay up, how much passion you put into every episode. I respect that, I do. I just…" She trailed off, clearly struggling to put her feelings into words, her eyes searching for some kind of understanding that she couldn’t quite reach.
You couldn’t stop yourself from pushing, from needing to hear more—to understand if there was a place for your voice in her world, or if you’d just been another thought she hadn’t really considered. "You just what?" you asked, your tone sharper than you meant, the hurt lacing your words threatening to unravel you.
Paige let out a long, defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She seemed smaller now, quieter, the usual confident spark in her eyes dimmed. Her fingers drummed against the fabric of her hoodie in a nervous rhythm, as if it helped her think through the mess of her own thoughts. "I guess I didn’t think about it enough," she admitted, the words coming slower now, more deliberate. "I just assumed we were on the same page. That you’d want to come with me, wherever I end up. I mean, I thought that’s what people in serious relationships do. They make it work, no matter what."
You felt the knot of frustration twist tighter in your chest, but now it wasn’t just frustration. It was the raw sting of realization—she hadn’t even considered that your world was important enough to stay in. That she could hurt you without even knowing it.
"You assumed," you murmured, repeating her words to yourself, trying to understand. The air between you seemed to grow colder, the warmth that had once been shared between the two of you slipping away with each passing second. "You assumed we’d just make it work. Making it work doesn’t mean one person sacrifices everything while the other gets to chase their dreams without a second thought, Paige."
She flinched again, rubbing the back of her neck. "I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I’ve been so focused on this draft, on everything that comes after, that I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect you. And that was wrong. But I thought—"
"You thought what?" you interrupted, your voice rising now. "That I’d just drop everything without a conversation? That I’d be fine leaving my life just because you’re Paige Bueckers and I should be grateful to be in your orbit?"
Paige’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought she might snap back, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned back against the couch, her shoulders slumping. "I didn’t mean to make it seem like that," she said, her voice quieter now. "I just… I thought we were committed enough that it wouldn’t even be a question. That we’d figure it out together."
"Committed enough?" you repeated, incredulous. "Paige, being committed means talking about things. It means understanding each other’s priorities and figuring out how to support each other. It doesn’t mean making thoughtless decisions about what the other person is willing to give up."
The room was thick with tension, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The faint buzz of ESPN in the background was the only sound, a reminder of the looming draft that had started this argument in the first place.
"I love you," Paige said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I want us to be together, no matter what. I’m sorry for ever assuming and I’m sorry I ever said your podcast wasn’t a real job, I’ve never thought that. But I don’t know how to fix this right now. I don’t know how to make you feel like you don’t have to choose between me and your career, because honestly? I don’t even know how to make this work."
Her vulnerability softened some of the anger coursing through you, but it didn’t erase the hurt. You took a deep breath, your voice steadying. "We can’t fix this tonight, Paige. But we need to figure out what this relationship looks like moving forward. Because I can’t be in a relationship where my dreams are treated like an afterthought. And if that’s too much for you, then maybe…"
Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.
Paige’s eyes widened, and she immediately stood, crossing the space between you in an instant. "Don’t," she said firmly, reaching for your hand. "Don’t even say it. We’ll figure it out, okay? I don’t have all the answers right now, but I’m not losing you. Not over this."
You looked at her, the determination in her eyes clashing with the doubt lingering in your heart. Could you really find a way to make it work? Or was this the beginning of a painful realization that love, no matter how strong, wasn’t always enough?
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emchante · 5 months ago
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soooo... the idea of a private chat with softcore porn streamer!max has been cooking in my brain..
reader is quite nervous when they check the time and see it's a couple of minutes before their scheduled call. they got new lingerie after finding out max' fav colour is royal blue to surprise him, just before max calls, reader adjusts the camera to show off everything below their face and when the call connects- max has to hold back a moan bc goddamn... how did reader know his favourite colour?
well hi there, you absolutely look ravishing.. blue, huh? you just happen to like that colour or did you plan to make me horny from the start?
my hormones are going CRAZY please send help
🩵
🩵 NONNIE!! ur always cooking up the best ideas, i’m 🫣 at reading this myself.
18+ — minors dni.
are you ready?
that’s the notification that pops up on your screen as you check the time. it’s still a couple minutes until the scheduled time, so you give yourself those last few moments to try calm your nerves.
the royal blue lingerie clings to your body in all the right ways, the fabric soft and delicate, yet daring enough to make you feel like a walking temptation. the lace cups of the bra sculpt your chest perfectly, the intricate floral patterns drawing the eye with their sheer elegance.
the panties are a perfect match— high-cut to elongate your legs, with a teasingly sheer panel across the front. the same lace detail wraps around your hips, accentuating your curves, while the satin waist and glides across your skin like a whisper.
you take a deep breath, telling max you’re ready whenever he is. you take the time to readjust your camera, making sure your full body is in frame. there’s only a peek of your head in the frame, showing max your lips and then it cuts off.
you don’t have anymore time to fix anything as the ringing begins to sing through the monitor of your pc. you reach over, hitting ‘accept call’ before you sit back, waiting for the lines to sync.
the first thing you hear from max is a gasp, watching his eyes widen as they roam over his screen, taking in every inch of you that he can see.
“well hi there,” he laughs lowly, clearly caught off guard by the sight of you. “you look absolutely ravishing,” he continues, licking his plump lips as his eyes continue to take in everything.
you blush at his words, smiling as you run your hands along your thighs, sitting properly for him. “was it worth the wait?” you ask, hands moving upwards to trail across your torso. your hands gently cup your breasts, thumbs poking at your sensitive nipples, letting out a small mewl for max.
the deep exhale and flushed cheeks is enough to tell you yes, it was worth the wait. “i’d wait lifetimes to see you, liefje,” he winks at the camera, before he sits right back against his chair. “hm.. blue though? did you just happen to like that colour, or was there another reason for it?” he asks, eyes darkening at the way your breath hitches.
“i—” is all you manage to breathe out, before a small whine escapes your throat. max smirks, realising he has the upperhand now.
“did you plan to make me horny from the get go?” he asks, but doesn’t give you any time to respond. “because it’s working, you know,” he confirms, moving his hand down to his grey sweatpants and oh.
you can see the outline of his erect cock through the soft fabric, and you stare at his crotch with want. not that he can see that though, but he watches the way your lips drop open, tongue running along your bottom lip.
“just the thought of you is enough to get me going, you know? the teasing you do in chat, the name-calling through donations,” he lists off, as his thumb strokes his clothed erection. “but now? seeing you like this? i don’t know how i’m going to last,” he tells you lowly, a groan escaping his throat as he squeezes himself.
“start touching yourself from the top of your body liefje, and then you can work your way down for me.”
GOOD GOD IM?? BLUSHING AT THIS?? need him sooo badly..
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clonetrooperjournals · 22 days ago
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Stutters
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Summary : Working in the Mechanics department of the GAR has its challenges but when your a loner with a stutter who gets bullied on the daily the last thing you expect is the friendship of the Bad Batch Pairings : Crosshair x Fem!reader (Mechanic reader) Warnings : angst, bullying, verbal and physical bullying, reader has a stutter, reader has a fat crush on crosshair (don't we all?), fluff, slightly spicy, happy ending Words : 2.1k Masterlist here dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“H-Hand me t-t-the hydro s-s-spanner R3”  
The transport ship you had been working on was nearly finished. It looked like it had been to hell and back, covered in scorch marks, one side had half of the metal panels missing causing the need for the exposed wiring to be completely replaced. You had been stuck working on this ship for nearly 10 hours and was just about ready to call it quits. As you wipe the sweat from your brow you hear a commotion coming from the entry of the hangar.  
“Their back!” 
“Oh I hope there all okay!”  
“I hope Wrecker picks me up again!” 
The marauder lands and all the boys exit the ship. Clone force 99 has been the object of affection for a lot of the civilian mechanics. Most of the girls around here are used to the average clone so when the bad batch were put into the action most of the girls saw it as something different and throw themselves at them whenever they return home. You also thought they were handsome, especially one in particular but, you kept that to yourself. There's a reason you're a loner, nobody wants a stuttering mess of a person, including a super soldier with enhanced abilities.   
R3 rolls off to go and see the boys, knowing that Tech likes to dote on him. As you continue your wiring you hear the happy chirps of R3 getting closer and you giggle, “Y-yes R3 I’m g-g-glad the b-boys are h-home t-too.”  
“Yes, it is good to be home,” Tech says as he walks over to you with your droid, the others are trailing behind him.  
Your cheeks flush and you avoid the gaze of a certain sniper in the back of the group, “H-How w-was the m-m-mission?”  
“Long, but successful” Hunter says tiredly.  
You smile and nod, “I-I’m glad y-your all s-safe.” 
You had become friends with Tech after he fixed an issue with R3 a while back. You didn’t even know what was wrong with the astromech, but Tech saw you struggling and his curiosity got the better of him and he came to offer his assistance. Since then, he always comes to check up on you whenever they return home. He was a talker and a tinkerer, and since you preferred listening to talking, Tech rather enjoyed your company, especially when he needed time away from his brothers. Tech was one of the people you can genuinely say is a friend, he was always patient, understanding and never made fun of your stutter. He did sometimes try to come up with different methods and exercises for you to try to reduce the amount of stuttering, but you assumed Hunter told him to stop because he hasn’t said anything recently. You know he does it out of concern since he found out about the bullying, he’s been more attentive and checking on you more, even the other squad members come with him to check on you now. You assume he told them as well, which is its own form of embarrassing, but you know Tech means well so you can’t really hold it against him.  
 You glance around you and see some of the other girls pretending to be working while they glare at you. It hadn’t been bad at first, you had grown up with the stutter, you know how cruel people can be, so when some of the other mechanics started making offhand comments you didn’t let it bother you. Then it became more frequent, starting to make fun of you to your face and laugh when you would try to stutter your way through defending yourself, but when Tech became your friend, it got a whole lot worse. Suddenly the girls would corner you, make fun of and threaten you, hide your tools so you couldn’t work and complain about you to your superior, all because the batch were forming a friendship with you and in doing so, taking their eyes off of them. You didn’t tell Tech that the bullying got worse, you knew he would try to make it right or worse stop coming around so much. No matter how bad these girls treat you, you would put up with it every time if it meant you had a group of people you could call your friends.  
Crosshair noticed your gaze flickering to the girls behind them, but he said nothing. He had noticed recently that you’ve been more skiddish, and quiet. You’ve been trying to keep your distance without jeopardizing the friendship, suffering in silence. At first when Tech told the batch that you were being bullied Crosshair wanted to go off on his own and teach those girls a lesson because how dare they bully someone so beautiful and innocent? Until he realized that he was acting emotionally and instead just stayed quiet. It's not his fight, and even though it was very obvious you had a crush on him he wasn’t going to act on it. No matter how beautiful and perfect he thought you were...  
“Something wrong?” Crosshair asked raising a brow.  
Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down blushing hard knowing you’ve been caught, “N-No.”  
The others glance around and then nod to each other thinking its best they leave. They nod to you and leave the hangar, Hunter patting your shoulder on his way. Tech looks at you unsure, “Are you sure you’re, okay?”  
You smile at your friend, “I-I’m ok T-Tech.”  
“Alright if you're sure... Would you join us for dinner later? If you're finished with your work,” he asks hopefully.  
“I-I’d like t-that," you say gently.  
Tech nods and leaves the hangar to join the rest of the batch. You start to put your tools away, finally done for the day when a boot kicks your toolbox spilling your tools all over the hangar floor, “You’ve got some nerve stutters, flirting with them like the rest of us don’t have a chance!” 
“I-I w-wasn't f-flirt-” 
“Shut up!” Neela yells, the three other girls who make your life hell joining her around you. “You just don’t learn, do you? We told you to stay away from them, but you just can’t help yourself!”  
A loud smack echos through the hangar as you feel the sting on your cheek. Tears well up in your eyes as you grab your cheek, “I-I’m s-s-sorry! I w-wasn't-” 
“I said shut up!” Neela interrupts pushing you down. R3 was trying to get to you but the others held him back, “Next time you pull a stunt like that we’ll make sure, you regret it...”  
She turns on her heels and walks away the others trailing behind her avoiding your gaze as R3 rolls beside you chirping fast making sure you're okay. You quickly pick up your tools throwing them into your toolbox and then run out of the hangar back to your bunk, tears streaming down your face, and R3 rolling behind you.  
What you didn’t know was that Crosshair had come back to grab something from the marauder when he witnessed what had happened. And he was fuming.   
... 
You skipped dinner with the boys knowing that the girls would have been watching, and instead just lay in your bunk crying. You hear an unexpected knock on your door and roll over hoping the person would leave. The knocking however continued, and you sighed getting out of bed going to the door. You looked in the mirror and cringed at the sight, the red puffy eyes, tear streaks down your face, the bruise on your cheek, you’re a mess. You pulled your hair in front of your face best you could and opened the door.  
Not looking up you see a tall thin physique in nothing but blacks, “C-can I h-h-help you?” 
A gentle hand lifts your chin to meet Crosshairs intense eyes. He doesn’t say anything just looks over your face, his fingers ghosting over the bruise on your cheek a fury in his eyes. You back away looking down again, “I-It’s n-nothing...” 
“Doesn’t look like nothing” he quips back.  
You look up at him then cheeks burning, “did y-you n-n-need somet-thing C-Crosshair?”  
“No” he replies.  
You look at him confused but he doesn’t say anything. Crosshair’s not much of a talker and typically just stays with the boys so you were very confused why he was knocking on your door. You look around to make sure the other mechanics weren’t spying on you and sigh stepping aside to let him in. He hesitates but then enters your small room looking around before sitting on the edge of your bed. You slowly walk over to the bed, sitting by him with a large gap between the two of you.   
He pulls a tube of bacta gel out of his pocket handing it to you, “here.” 
“T-Thanks... wait,” you take the gel looking at him, “H-How did y-you k-know I n-needed this?” 
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “why didn’t you fight back?” 
You sigh the tears welling up in your eyes, of course he would be the one to see. You shake your head eyes squeezed shut trying to breathe, “I-I c-can't! It w-would m-m-make it w-worse!”  
“Then get a transfer. Away from them, somewhere you’ll be safer i-” 
“I-I d-don't want a t-t-transfer!” you panic.  
He eyes you questioningly, “Why not?” 
“B-Because I-I'll never s-s-see y-you!” you yell. Then realizing what you just said you gasp hiding your face in your hands panicking. It’s quiet for a minute and your sure Crosshair is coming up with some response to reject you, but when you peek out of your hands you see his smirk. 
“And why would you wanna see me?”  
You keep your hands over your face as you whisper, “b-because I... I l-like you...” 
You hear his deep chuckle as he grabs your hands moving them from your face, “I know. You're not exactly subtle.” He leans forward faces inches away from each other, “but I’m not worth your safety.” 
“Y-you are t-t-to me...”  
His eyes widen for a second then he smiles a sultry smile, “Guess I’ll just have to make sure they don’t hurt whose mine then.”  
Hope fills your eyes as you stare back at him, “Y-Yours?” 
He grabs your chin slamming his lips onto yours. You groan into the kiss grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. He smiles and starts to trail kisses down your neck, “Mine.”  
...  
A week has gone by since that night with Crosshair, and today the boys were being deployed to Felucia. Your cheek had healed, and you’ve been happier than ever, confusing the girls who’ve been bullying you for months. The boys have been keeping their distance as per Crosshairs request, saying that he had a plan to handle the bullying. The girls were still bullying you, but nothing physical since the night of the slap and you’ve been ignoring them the best you can.  
Everyone was gathered to watch the boys depart getting their last chances to flirt with them, and as you and R3 walked up they all turned and smiled, not seeing the death glares of the women they were talking to. You walked over ignoring the piercing stares of the other girls, standing in front of your friends, “H-How long th-this t-t-time?”  
Tech types away on his data pad, “If all goes according to schedule we should be returning within 30 standard rotations.”    
Echo and Hunter look behind you worriedly, “You gonna be okay while were gone?”  
“Y-Yeah I’ll b-be o-o-okay,” you smiled warmly.  
Crosshair who had been watching from the back walked over to you with a sly smile on his face making you blush. The boys watched confused as Crosshair grabbed you by the hips and kissed you roughly in front of the whole crowd, stunning everyone into silence.  
You both pulled away smiling and Crosshair looked behind you wickedly, “She’ll be just fine, or you’ll be answering to me.” The girls all nodded in their shocked silence, “Good.” 
The boys all give you a questioning look, but you smile and nod at them. One by one they all smile back and head onto the Marauder leaving just you and Crosshair. He runs a hand up your side and pulls you in for another kiss this one slower and more heated. When he pulls back, he whispers in your ear, “See you soon baby.” 
And with a wink he heads onto the ship, you smile and wave as the ship takes off already waiting for his return.  
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saebyeokbliss · 3 months ago
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JUST MEET ME AT THE APT.— K. SAE-BYEOK
CHAPTER SIX
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synopsis: managing a rising rock band is already chaotic enough, but when you're stuck touring with four reckless musicians, things get even messier. between late-night facetime calls, teasing that feels a little too knowing, and a certain guitarist who might just be your biggest problem, keeping things professional is getting harder by the second. but hey, no one said the music industry was easy.
warnings: mutual pining, intense eye contact, teasing that borders on flirting (or maybe it is flirting), friends who refuse to mind their business, late-night facetime calls, secondhand embarrassment, slow burn that burns, emotional whiplash, cheol and ms. kang being the sweetest people to exist
playlist: spotify
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It was late by the time you decided to leave.
The girls were still sprawled across the living room, half-distracted by their phones, still immersed in whatever chaos Jisoo was stirring up in their group chat.
You stood up, grabbing your bag. "Alright, I should head home. Got some work stuff to take care of."
A few half-hearted goodbyes were thrown your way—Ji-Yeong waved lazily, Se-Mi mumbled something about texting later, and No-Eul gave a small nod without looking up from her phone.
Sae-Byeok didn’t say anything.
Not at first.
You told yourself it didn’t bother you.
But it did.
Just a little.
"Oh, wait!" Ms. Kang suddenly appeared from the kitchen, holding out a small bag. "Take this with you. I packed some leftovers—you’ve been working too hard, you need to eat properly."
Your heart ached at the warmth in her voice.
She reminded you too much of your own mother—always making sure you were taken care of, even when she didn’t have to.
You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat, accepting the bag with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, eomoni."
She patted your arm gently. "Get home safe, alright? And don’t overwork yourself."
"I won’t," you promised, even if you weren’t sure how true that was.
Just as you turned to leave, Cheol ran up to you, something clutched in his hands.
"Wait! Before you go!"
You barely had time to react before he threw his arms around you in a quick but tight hug.
Then, he pulled back and shoved a folded piece of paper into your hands.
You opened it—and immediately laughed.
It was a hand-drawn comic.
One panel showed you and Cheol as superheroes, capes billowing behind you, standing triumphantly over a defeated villain. Another had you both high-fiving, and the last one had a speech bubble from Cheol’s character that said: "We make a good team."
You actually teared up.
"Oh my god, this is amazing," you said, beaming at him. "You’re seriously talented, Cheol."
He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean… yeah, I know."
You laughed, ruffling his hair. "I’m keeping this forever."
"Good," he said confidently. "It’s one of a kind."
With that, you finally headed out, stepping into the cool night air.
Sae-Byeok sat stiffly on the couch, phone still in her hands, but she wasn’t really looking at it anymore.
She had heard everything.
Had seen the way you stood there, waiting for them to notice you.
Had seen the way Ms. Kang’s warmth made you pause, how Cheol’s small kindness had made you light up in a way the rest of them hadn’t bothered to.
And she had done nothing.
She had let you walk out that door, barely saying a word, too caught up in her own distractions.
The guilt hit her like a slow, creeping weight in her chest.
No-Eul, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke.
"She looked sad."
Sae-Byeok glanced at her, but No-Eul wasn’t even looking back—just scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t just hit directly on the nerve Sae-Byeok was trying to ignore.
Sae-Byeok clenched her jaw.
Then, without another word, she stood up and grabbed her jacket.
Ji-Yeong blinked. "Uh… where are you going?"
Sae-Byeok didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know.
All she knew was that she was going after you.
The night air was cool against your skin as you walked down the quiet street, the bag of food from Ms. Kang clutched tightly in your hands.
You told yourself you weren’t upset.
You told yourself it didn’t matter.
You told yourself that it was fine—that they were just caught up in the excitement of everything blowing up after Coachella, that you shouldn’t feel left out, that it wasn’t their fault.
And yet, the ache in your chest wouldn’t go away.
You barely heard the footsteps behind you until a voice called out—
"Yah, wait!"
You turned just in time to see Sae-Byeok jogging toward you, her dark hair slightly tousled from the wind, jacket half-zipped like she had rushed to throw it on before chasing after you.
You blinked. "Sae-Byeok?"
She slowed to a stop in front of you, catching her breath, her brows furrowed in something that looked dangerously close to concern.
"Why weren’t you talking?" she asked.
You frowned. "What?"
"You barely said anything before leaving," she said, her tone sharper now. "You’ve been quiet all night."
You let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe because you were all busy."
Sae-Byeok’s expression hardened. "That’s not an excuse. If something was wrong, you should’ve said something."
Your patience snapped.
"Why?" you shot back, voice rising. "So you could half-listen while laughing at more of Jisoo’s memes?"
Sae-Byeok’s jaw tensed. "That’s what this is about?"
You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. "All anyone has been talking about—besides Coachella—is her."
Sae-Byeok’s brows knitted together. "That’s not—"
"If you all like her so much, then do something about it," you snapped, voice cutting through the night air.
Sae-Byeok’s eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t expected that.
Like she hadn’t even thought about what it would sound like coming from you.
But you didn’t wait for her to respond.
You turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving her standing there, speechless, as the distance between you grew with every step.
And this time—
You didn’t look back.
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taglist: @everly-summers-solace @knfthxv @madebysae @knfthxv @katieschry1 @imlackingsleep @lyzem @stellssxo @wiltingconquest @peelover25@monroesturnns @laurenkens @yenyu1s @idontliketoread2137 @bitchybananaflower @lyuuw
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aphroditeinthesea · 2 months ago
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" hopelessly devoted to you "
jj maybank x innocent!reader
⚠️ swearing and mentioning of past sexual encounters
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The party in some random’s house was getting stuffier by the second. You could hardly hear over the blaring music and could barely see through the clouds of smoke, let alone breathe. You had separated yourself from your friends to go to the bathroom but soon regretted it when you couldn't find a familiar face in sight. At last, you found a slight breeze from the open door. You squeezed your way out through people dancing and stumbling from their own intoxications.
You nearly slipped on sand that had breezed its way onto the front porch. You grabbed onto a railing to walk down the small stairs that led out. You walked over to a tree to lean against while you pulled out your phone to text any of your friends. You began typing something when you noticed faceless voices from the other side of the tree.
“Did you see JJ Maybank?” Your ears perked at the name of one of your closest friends being spoken by some girl you didn't know.
“No, why?”
“He was looking hot,” the girl’s voice slurred, “I hooked up with him last year, might need to again.”
The other girl’s voice chuckled, “I believe in you,” she said softer, clearly more sober, “but I thought he was dating that girl he’s always hanging with.”
“Kie?” Your phone was completely disregarded with a half written text on its screen as you stepped further back to try and hear them clearer.
“No, no, the other one,” the girl responded, “she’s like the prude one.”
Your stomach churned at the conversation. You. That’s how they described you. You were sure just mentioning your hair color would have suited just fine.
“Oh, her?” the drunker voice laughed, “even if he is, I don't think that would stop him.”
You found a pain in your stomach. Why would they think you two were dating? And why didn't they care?
You began walking away to the side of the house. You had a simple plan to wallow in yourself. You knew it was silly, but it couldn't help but bother you. Your heart was fucking stupid. That's what it was. When you first met JJ, that was one of the things most talked about him. He was serious about nothing. Not school, not his future, and not girls. But you couldn't help but sort of just fall.
“There you are,” the exact voice of pain sounded. You looked up to see him standing with the rest of the pogues, a blunt in his hand. He blew out a ring before he passed it to John B on his right, “where’ve you been?”
You leaned against the paneled wall, “around,” you shrugged, “needed some air.”
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “you alright?”
You quickly nodded, going stiff from his touch, “I’m fine.” Your arms crossed over your chest, “just tired.”
His thumb brushed the skin on your shoulder, exposed from your tank top, “I can walk you home if you wanna dip.”
“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head, “I’ll hang around for a little longer.”
“You sure?”
You nodded as you finally let yourself relax into his shoulder, “yeah, I’ll be fine.”
His arm around you tightened to keep you steady. “Let me know when you wanna go, I’ll walk you back.”
You hummed in agreement while you failed to notice the raised eyebrows at him from his friends. He waved them off with his free arm to get them off his back. Your tired eyes fluttered open when you heard the familiar laughter of the girls from before. You looked over to the source. One of the girls stumbled over towards your group while you subconsciously pressed yourself further towards JJ.
“Hey, Maybank,” she smirked.
“Uh, hey,” he nodded towards the girl. You watched her eyes pan over you briefly, making it worse. Like you weren't something she needed to worry about. Just the prude who hung around them.
She stepped closer, but just when she was about to try to say something, your voice found a quiet tone to speak up in.
“I’m gonna head out now,” you announced, standing up straighter. The girl glared at you and your timid voice. “Walk me home?” You asked, your doe eyes looking at JJ through your lashes.
He hesitated momentarily before nodding, “yeah, come on.” His arms traveled down to the small of your back to lead you away. He turned his head towards his friends, “see you, guys, later.”
They all waved their goodbyes to you and the blond boy as you turned around to wave back. You two made it to the sidewalk before he let his hand separate from your skin. Much to your disappointment.
“Did you know that girl?” You asked, your fingers nervously twirling in your hair.
He shook his head, “no, uhm,” he looked at his feet kicking small rocks on the concrete, “kinda.”
You turned your head up at him, “kinda?”
He looked at you finally, “well, we, I guess, we hooked up one time.”
“Oh,” you broke eye contact, “I heard her talking about you.”
“Really?”
You hesitated, wondering if you should even tell him, “yeah, she was saying she wanted to, you know..”
He laughed, “oh, wow.”
“Sorry about that.”
“About what?”
You awkwardly smiled, “cockblocking you, I guess.”
He chuckled and ran a hand over his face, “oh my God.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders again, “you did not cockblock me, y/n.”
You giggled, “you sure?”
“Yeah, I did not want to get with her again.” He let the words fall out of his mouth, ultimately regretting them.
“Oh.”
“I mean, I just,” he sighed, “I don't like her like that. It was just one time.”
When you were about to respond, you noticed your house in front of you. He let go of you so you could walk over to open the gate, “thanks for walking with me.”
He nodded, “anytime.” He smiled down at you, “get some sleep.”
You closed the white gate, leaning over it to press a lipgloss kiss to his cheek, “see you tomorrow, Jayj.”
His hand reached up to his cheek, just hovering over the stain without wiping it off, “see you tomorrow.”
You shyly smiled before turning around and walking down the stone path leading to your front door. You opened it as you partly turned around to see him making sure you got in safely. You held up your hand, your fingers waved goodbye to him before you walked in.
You closed the door and locked it behind you. You felt a smile making its stay on your face while you leaned against the white wood. You felt the way you always did after seeing him. You tried to tell yourself it was nothing, he’s just a good friend. But the butterflies wouldn’t fade away.
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raayllum · 8 months ago
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Transcript of Aaron Ehasz Interview (Sept 2024)
Podcast link here. Transcript down below with bulk under a read more.
R: Alright so welcome back to the Wordswithdragons podcast, and today I’m joined by a very special guest, the co-creator of The Dragon Prince, Aaron Ehasz. 
A: Hello, thank you for having me today. Glad to be here.
R: Thank you so much for being here. Um, yeah, so, as we semi touched on, it is the 6 year anniversary of The Dragon Prince this September 14th.
A: Yeah.
R: Do you have any thoughts, reflections, feelings about the show having gone on for this long and being such a big part of people’s lives?
A: I mean for starters, it’s really hard to believe it’s been on for six years. Like that seems insane to me. Cause it seemed like we had — Justin and I had been working on it for so long before it finally came out because we had worked on the story and then gotten feedback, and help in improving that pitch and bringing it out and we had it set up at Netflix, and we had to — we wrote the pilot obviously, and we didn’t know where we were gonna produce it, and found Bardel. So there was so much time between even just starting to think about it and when it came out.
R: Yeah, cause that was like 2015, right?
A: Yeah, I guess we started the journey in 2015 and we got with Bardel by the end of 2016, and it got released evidently in 2018, so... Yeah, yeah, cause I remember even we were writing kind of the end of season 3 when we had that panel with Marco and named the character after Marco.
R: Oh yeah.
A: The character [chuckles] from the first episode, we only had an opportunity for him to say his name out loud in that last episode because we were writing the ending while we were showing the episodes for first time, so. Anyway, that’s my reflection, it’s great it’s been six years.
R: Yeah. I know The Dragon Prince has been a really like — both life changing and I think, like, life affirming experience for a lot of people, myself included. So we just really appreciate everybody’s hard work on the show and are very excited for season 7 and hopefully beyond as well. As well for any future projects that Wonderstorm comes out with, like Bonders sounds amazing.
A: I feel — well first of all, thank you for saying that it’s life affirming, that’s such a nice thing to hear about something you’ve worked on, but I also agree that Justin and I feel a ton of gratitude for the whole team and the work and heart that everyone put into making this. I think people wanted it to be meaningful and special and that takes a certain kind of energy and vulnerability to build something like that, that you share, and our whole team really did give that in building the show.
R: Yeah. I think for sure. I think that’s like, um, I was even — I was rewatching some of the show earlier for — for a parallel, and it was the scene between Avizandum and Zubeia when she goes to him in like her kind of corruption dream semi-nightmare, and obviously that’s such a heartfelt, touching scene, and it’s always so strange. Because on the one hand, you should hate Avizandum, he killed Sarai and Rex Igneous has rightful criticism of him, but then you watch that scene of him and he really did love his family, so I think the show being able to draw out those strong, conflicting emotions for so many of the characters is one of the reasons why it connects with people to the degree that it does.
A: And that’s one of the themes you probably see in the show — just gonna make a quick —
R: Yeah, yeah for sure. 
A: Avizandum, which is that being a good dad can make up for awful lot of [R laughs] monstrosities, as long as you’re doing it in the name of being a good dad. I’m joking, uh. Of course, yeah, Avizandum was always meant to be a complicated figure like many of our characters. 
R: You mentioned that you guys have been working on — I think season three during this panel with Marco, or Marcos, and I remember, I think you’ve said before that the seasons get worked on concurrently, that there’s a decent amount of overlap.
A: Yeah.
R: I’ve always wondered, because we know — obviously, I’m a big Rayllum fan — but I’ve always wondered, cause I know they weren’t originally planned, and then you guys were boarding season two when you were like, “Hey, maybe this should be a thing,” and then probably like shifted and tweaked things or changed things to write more towards that in the future... Um, I’ve always wondered, if there was time, like at that time, to go back and change anything in season one for them, or the season one that we see was just like that?
A: I don’t recall there was time to change season 1 — that does happen because we are working on things in parallel because we are working on something in the script and then some time later we are working on the later stage of production, like an animatic, and we’ll be able to kind of give notes or even make changes with the knowledge of what’s coming, so that has happened. But in the case of Rayllum, I don’t think so. I mean, I think — again, I remember...
R: It was a while ago, yeah.
A: We were rekindling, or when we were realizing that something was being kindled between them, it was watching an animatic so that shouldn’t have informed our writing of season one, but our later stage stuff. But we weren’t trying to force anything so it got in there naturally and I don’t think we went back and changed anything.
R: Yeah, that’s what I’ve always — they had those kind of vibes to me from like episode two and three, obviously season two brought a lot more people on board, but I was always curious. Cause in season one, like, I think, it feels so natural, it feels so organic, and like I’ve shown — one of the things I love about Dragon Prince is it’s a great way to connect with friends and family and you kind of catch up with each other like through the show, of “oh have you seen the new season yet?” and that sort of stuff. And so when I’ve shown the show to like my brother-in-law, who is not plugged in at all, he also kind of picked up on it in season one, so I’ve always been curious. 
A: You know, what else, I’ll even say, I think we initially, intentionally planned they weren’t going to be a couple. We were like “Oh yeah, no, they’re—”
R: Friends, yeah.
A: Friends, with different views of the world and they journey together, and we don’t want them to be a couple. We’re not — we’re definitely not targeting it. I think we were intentionally not targeting it, and then it was “too bad creators! [R laughs] We’re going to fall in love despite everything you’re planning.”
R: Well, that very much I think even fits what they represent to each other, of like you don’t have to do this path that you think you have to do...
A: Yeah.
R: You can be something new. I always kind of felt like Ezran and Zym were — felt very kind of like designed as foils, as like a pair, of like through Zym, Ezran learns more so like how to grow up, and they’re both like the princes who will be king, and then Callum and Rayla also kind of felt sort of like developed as a pair, in terms of like — he needs to gain more confidence, she’s pretty confident on the surface.
A: Yeah.
R: She needs to learn how to open up, he’s really good at being open especially in the beginning.
A: Right. 
R: So I was always like...
A: He needs to be murdered, she needs to learn how to murder someone.
R: Yeah! They complete each other, yeah. Uh... Some other questions that I had [rapid typing]. So I guess, maybe, I have some questions that are more season specific, in respect to time, but I also had like more general questions. 
A: Okay.
R: So, one of the things I’ve always love in general and really love about The Dragon Prince is its like use of philosophy and like its deeply interested in ethical and moral questions, and presenting some answers for some of them, but like are those the right answers? We don’t know. 
A: Right.
R: So I know King Harrow’s choosing of Lady Justice’s blindfold is a pretty apt comparison to John Rawls’ Veil of Ignorance—
A: Yes.
R: Of, you know, you strip away everything that you could have, like advantages, disadvantages, and think, would the system work for me? Which has been useful when I’ve like, had to tutor students in philosophy actually, but I was curious, were there any like philosophical concepts or ideas that people really, or you really, wanted to work into the series? ‘Cause we have a lot of trolley problems.
A: Right. Um, probably. I mean like, I should say, I was a philosophy concentrator in college so I absorbed a lot. Things like  Rawls, I had a class with John Rawls, and thought that was a really interesting concept and I liked including it, and I thought we can include it in a fun way, the idea of justice. So other philosophy probably makes its way in, it can makes its way in accidentally or subconsciously, so nothing specific right now comes to mind. I will say, as with kind of Avatar before this, I don’t like to have — I’m not trying to have a right answer, ever. I’m trying to have the characters have a deeper understanding of what they’re struggling with, and y’know, move in a direction of deeper understanding, so if anything, it’s more interesting to me to see conflicts between maybe philosophical approaches that are different and see how — Oh well, this has these kinds of results, and positives and negatives, and this has... so that the audience can have a chance to say, “Oh well okay, I have some thoughts on that,” or “here’s what I feel,” and that’s why sometimes I think we see the fandom actually kind of go back and forth—
R: Yeah.
A: On — around characters and people’s choices, and things like dark magic or Viren, which are controversial, are things where like, I do not have a strong point of view on... the kind of binary right or wrong of... Viren in the long term. He’s made a lot of wrong choices and he’s made a lot of choices for good. 
R: Yeah.
A: He is an arrogant and power hungry person and he’s also a caring and loving father and someone who wants to have a positive impact on the world, right, like?
R: Yeah.
A: So those conflicts play out in him. But similarly, I think with maybe most of the philosophical ideas I can think of, I’d rather get to like a place where everyone just has a chance to entertain those thoughts and ideas and struggle with them, or hold them in an authentic way, and then can come to their own conclusions and feelings. I mean, I have some deep feelings about like, the world, and how can people be optimistic or not pessimistic or—y’know, what it means to hold onto hope or what it means to try to move past conflict, and I have beliefs that there are conflicts that get so you know, kind of sewn in, that they feel they are impossible to untangle, and especially if the game you’re playing is who started it, or who did the worst thing, where you can’t just ever untangle it. You can’t ever find a right or wrong, so how do you get past that? That’s one of the questions I was hoping Rayla, Callum, and Ezran would try to—
R: Figure it out.
A: Struggle with. Anyway, I’m giving a very long winded answer—
R: No, no.
A: That’s the philosophy that comes to mind. If something comes to mind for you, you can bring it up and I can go, “Oh yeah, that was probably influenced by so-and-so.” [R laughs] Or maybe not.
R: Well, one of the things I loved about season six was kind of — you see, even... One of the things I thought was really interesting was we see, not quite like that return to trolley problems, but we see Aaravos at the end of season 5 is telling Viren you have to make the sacrifice so that you can live, and then we see Rayla tell Callum, “Hey, if the choice ever happens, you also have to sacrifice me,” for — so Callum can live, but also for like the greater good and that sort of stuff. And then you have Kpp’Ar, who — I love Kpp’Ar, I think he’s terrible and interesting and I love him.
A: Awesome. He is — we’ll learn a little more about him in the future, but yes.
R: And obviously when Viren’s like, “A child will die,” and this is a kid that Kpp’Ar would’ve known, and we see in The Puzzle House that he loved these kids, and whatever is up with the Staff is bad enough that Kpp’Ar’s like, “Okay. I’ll make that sacrifice.” Which feels very much in a way like he’s given up on dark magic, and to a certain degree he’s both given up on the mindset of dark magic, and maybe also hasn’t given it up in the same way. Like I love that — Claudia, you know, obviously, puts Viren above all else, is she always right to do so? Maybe not, but we get why she’s doing it, that’s a hard thing to say. And then we have Callum, who also seems inclined to put Rayla above all else, and because we like Rayla more, we’re like “Yeah, he can do that, it’s okay for him to do dark magic for her, that’s fine,” even if there’s also like, consequences. Cause most characters in the show, like you said, everybody kind of wants the same thing, they wanna have a positive impact on the world, they want to protect their loved ones, but what constitutes that world, what they think is a positive impact, or who they want — how they protect those people, that’s all very malleable and can fluctuate. Viren says “Claudia, you’re on the wrong path,” and we’re like yeah, he’s right, and Karim says the same thing about Janai, like the exact same thing, and we’re like, well he’s wrong.
A: Yeah. I mean a lot of things come to mind when you’re talking through that, but one is there’s often a conflict between rigidity and rules and some kind of compassion, or emotional decision, and those decisions are hard, right? Like I dunno, maybe Kpp’Ar should’ve said, “Okay just this once, it’s Soren,” or not, I don’t know. I mean obviously Kpp’Ar had taken himself to some deep horrible place and he really had, actually. And was like, “Okay, dark magic is just corruption when you start and keep going down this path, but this Viren’s kid so I don’t know.” One of the things here, I think there’s a relationship between — you know, sacrifice plays a role here. Sacrifice and thinking about generations and generational conflict and thinking you know maybe in a way I think is interesting. I think about the beginning of season 6 when Claudia has done all of this and sacrificed another life but also sacrifices some of her soul or whatever to save her dad and he’s like “No no! This is not the way! A parent is supposed to do this for a child but never the other way around,” right? And there’s something to that I find interesting which is — it’s almost the inverse of children having the opportunity to start anew and break cycles, parents potentially have the opportunity to make sacrifices that don’t pass by burdens onto their kids, but sort of like that’s the mirror I see a little bit, in terms of how do you have generational change and evolution? It’s somewhere in younger generations being able to not get stuck on conflicts and burdens, but also the older generations recognizing that they may have to be the one to take the — and this is I think a natural... I dunno, it’s something I think about a little bit and came to mind when you were talking. So we’ll see more about what is the meaning of sacrifice and when — when do you... trade? Yeah.
R: Yeah.
A: Side note on sacrifice. You’re familiar with Game of Thrones? You’ve watched all of Game of Thrones?
R: I’m decently familiar, yeah.
A: Okay.
R: And if not, I can have Kuno explain it to me later, so.
A: One of the things I love about the sacrifice Ned made, that we didn’t realize he’d made until I think the very end of the series, we realize — a sacrifice to his kind of reputation, right? And I’m talking about him representing Jon Snow as his bastard to protect him, right? Think about that, that’s a sacrifice, he had to go through the anger — he didn’t tell his wife the truth, he didn’t tell anyone, because it was the only way to protect the child, and as a result he lived with — even though the truth is that he was a really honest, good, or evidently he didn’t go cheat on his wife, he sacrificed that part of his reputation to protect Jon, at least how I see it. I think things like that are kind of interesting. I dunno.
R: Yeah. Yeah, I think it speaks to that idea of — one of the things I love about Dragon Prince is it’s so much about choices.
A: Yeah.
R: Like one of the things I really really liked about season 6 was that, you know, Callum is like, “Okay, I’m going to get myself purified, healed of dark magic,” and Rayla was his light, which was very validating, cause I had noticed in season two there was like some framing so I was like well “Maybe, maybe” you know? And then slowburn buildup but it was — I think that was a great moment that really paid off. And he’s told “if you ever do this again, it’ll corrupt you completely.” And whether he will or won’t — I personally think that he will, but spoilers, you know — but whether he will or won’t, I think it’s really nice because now whatever choice he makes, he’s making with the full context, of what this would do to him.
A: Yeah.
R: Whereas in season two, yes he was making his choice to do dark magic then, and I don’t necessarily think he would make a fundamentally different one if he had known what it would lead to, but there’s a different kind of awareness. Like I always of it would’ve been so easy to have Harrow not know that Viren was going to kill Zym, cause that’s such an easy way to kind of let Harrow off the hook of well Viren went off and did this on his own, and Harrow had no idea, and blah blah blah, right? Cause we like Harrow, he’s a — again, he’s a good dad, we’ll forgive a lot. And instead, it’s not his idea but he’s fully aware, he signs off on it. And I think constantly pushing characters to make hard choices — kind of like what Ezran says, “these aren’t dreams, these are choices.”
A: Yeah.
R: You can choose love, you can choose to make... It’s something that makes all the characters feel so fully developed and interesting, so I always appreciate that you guys push them to make the hard choice. 
A: Yeah. Cool. Thank you.
R: One question I did have is, uh, Karim is one of my favourite characters.
A: Okay. Unusual person. A lot of people hate — or love to hate...? I love him too. 
R: I also love Kasef, so I think I just kind of love everyone, because I’m like well, they’re really interesting. I feel like [Karim’s] arc was one of the things I loved most about season 4 because you can see him really wrestling with his choices and I love watching him fail, cause that’s kind of all he does, so that’s always fun. But I am really curious obviously now he’s been betrayed by Sol Regem, Katolis is in ashes and maybe they’ll blame Karim for that cause Sol Regem is like — dead, and now, presumably his only hope is going to be that his sister doesn’t execute him on the spot? 
A: Yeah.
R: So is there anything you can tease about Karim’s arc in season 7?
A: Yeah, so — so it’s not just Karim, there’s an army of people who betrayed Janai, and — and...
R: What do we do?
A: Yeah, what do we do? That will be something we’ll have to see them grapple with pretty much right away in the season. Especially cause [Karim’s army] showed up for this battle where they were never even — they were just planning to sweep up the ashes afterwards, so when they didn’t get the dragon support they needed, I suspect they lost really quickly. 
R: Yes, yeah.
A: So uh... Yeah, but basically as of the start of season 7 — all of them are prisoners of Queen Janai and the question is — what do you do with that? What do you do when you have an entire army and your own brother who betrayed you? And so that’s — we’ll find out.
R: Yeah. [Laughs] 
A: But yeah.
R: Yeah. Another question I had going forward was Terry and Claudia obviously I thought had a really beautiful relationship arc, particularly in season 6, and we saw in season 4 the lengths he’s willing to go to for her, and how Terry, I think, is a great example of how there’s a lot of character traits where we think “oh, if you’re a selfless, helpful, accepting person, you’re a good person,” and I feel like Dragon Prince does a really good job of how, Rayla’s selflessness can be great but it can also be kinda bad, or, um, Terry can be super accepting, maybe a little too—
A: Yeah.
R: —accepting sometimes, right? So I feel like at the end of season 6, it will presumably be him, Claudia, and Aaravos for a little bit now that he’s out of the prison. And it feels like maybe Terry might hit a breaking point?
A: Here’s what I will say — Terry is a really special character and if you watched him, he’s so good, and what we’ll find out is, he is — there is an episode called TRUE HEART and he is someone who has a true heart.
R: Oh that’s so sweet.
A: It’s very impossibly rare and special — but also we all understand what a true heart is in some way and we’ll learn a little more about that. But yeah, the question of what will Terry do, what can he do, is difficult because he has a very strong sense of right and wrong, but he has a very deep capacity for love and he loves Claudia with all of his heart. Where does that present an impossible conflict, it may... we’ll see a challenge.
R: Yeah. Yeah, for sure.
A: I’ll also throw in like I sometimes see some parallels between Terry and Uncle Iroh—
R: Yes.
A: Though Uncle Iroh I think has a very different journey. Iroh is kind of a recovered problematic person who now has some wisdom and enlightenment, so in terms of the difference between the purity of a true heart versus where Iroh is more of a later stage enlightenment, the love that they have for the kind of complicated person that they are with is similar to me. And the way that they both sometimes have to, or don’t have to but...
R: Choose to?
A: You have to give that person the space — you can’t force them to choose right or wrong, you can be there with them, you can try to guide them, you can — but ultimately you have to give them the space to fail, and eventually, you may have to turn your back on them. 
R: Yeah.
A: At some point. I don’t know. But um yeah — I still see them as connected characters in my mind. 
R: I think I can even see some of that with even the way Callum is with Rayla, like season five onwards, of like “I’ve hit my turning point, I’m not mad at you anymore, and you can steal my key, you can lie to me, and I’m not going to have you open up to me out of guilt or obligation, I want you to tell me what’s going on when you want to tell me what’s going on, and I’m going to give you the space for that.” So I think it speaks to that unconditional love that I think—
A: Yeah.
R: —a lot of the characters are blessed to have. But I do see the Terry Iroh connection. So another thing that I thought was really interesting was — obviously next season is dark magic, and I’m very hopeful that maybe we’ll learn more about the origins of dark magic or Elarion, even. 
A: Great.
R: Because I know when I was watching Sol Regem burn down Katolis, it made me think of what might’ve either happened or almost happened to Elarion in the past, you know? 
A: Yeah.
R: Even down to Ziard and Viren both die, kind of deflecting and trying to save people, with the same staff, you know, and how the cycle continues to just always repeat itself over and over again. And if there was like — yeah, cause burning down Katolis was a massive shakeup, you know?
A: Yup.
R: And what maybe the process was there, with the — Aaravos seems like he’s trying to repeat the cycle of like “Oh I’m going to take down the dragon monarchy or I’m gonna use that vacancy to my advantage, and mess with the Sunfire elves.”
A: He has a specific vendetta against Sol Regem, obviously, but it’s one where he has played it out in... What’s certainly meant to be implied, even though we’ll find out more later, is that one of the great mysteries of Sol Regem’s life is that his mate disappeared and he never found her. He’s the freaking Dragon King, and she disappeared. And though we don’t know how or what happened, while she was buried alive. He killed her. He didn’t even realize it, somehow. Somehow, Aaravos manipulated him into killing her, and he doesn’t — I dunno, I assume Sol Regem does understand when it must have happened, but that moment, it’s like an impossible — it’s meant to be just...
R: Awful.
A: He’s tortured him for 1000 years or whatever, without him knowing he was being tortured by Aaravos, and now he’s given him the mercy/cruelty of knowing the resolution to the mystery was that he killed her. And one of the things that worked well with that was that, we had sort of said Sol Regem can smell the truth from a lie, so he has the horrible curse of being able to know this is the deep dark truth. So I dunno, I think um, are we going to find out more about that? So, if we can eventually get the Book Three novel out [R laughs], we will find out more about that.
R: I did wonder, I was like “Maybe this is something that was gonna be in the book three novelization.”
A: Yes, we will find out more in the book three novel, it may be a year or so before unfortunately. And then I don’t think we’re gonna get too deep into that in season seven, that’s part of — it is involved in what we’re thinking about as the third arc, understanding and resolving the third arc, is gonna go a little deeper into...
R: Some of the history, yeah.
A: Some of the stuff that happened with Sol Regem. But yeah, no, I — it’s enjoyable to have these figures like Aaravos and Sol Regem who are ancient and operate over the course of centuries and are incredibly powerful, yet they can’t — or at least Aaravos,  they can’t conflict directly as easily, and so Aaravos has played this really complicated game. Anyway, but yes Sol Regem is part of that, but there’s — there’s more, there’s more people who — beings that took from him. He feels that Leola was unfairly punished and that that was — you know, he sees a future and he has something... All this time, a burning — it’s the twisted form of his love, in which he’s full of hate right now to the beings who brought this about. Obviously, Sol Regem played a role because he’s a rules dragon.
R: Yeah, yeah.
A: He is the one who betrayed her to the Cosmic Council ultimately — but how do you punish the Cosmic Council? That’s a bit more complicated.
R: Yeah. No, I remember finishing season six and just being so impressed with the story. Like, taking that direction, and almost doing a lot of recontextualization, because it’s one thing to have like your worldbuilding where “magic in the story works like this” and it’s just very kind of like hand of God, you know? Like oh — cause the magic system has always been unfair, that’s why we have Callum, you know? It’s another thing to say we’re going to have characters in the story who are responsible for it being unfair. And now we’re just going to have that in terms of conflict and themes of destiny. We have about seven, ten-ish minutes left I think.
A: Probably seven, if that’s okay?
R: Yeah. Of course. 
A: I’ll throw one other thing in there, which is that — cause characters experience things that change them: has Aaravos experienced — I’ll phrase it as a question, even though probably the answer is here, has Aaravos experienced much that has changed him in the last — since the death of Leola? I mean certainly some things, and is what’s happening now changing him in any way? Is it satisfaction, is it the relationship with Claudia, and what does that mean to someone? That’s a question that I think we’ll have to watch play out a little bit.
R: [Intrigued] Okay. Yeah. One thing that I really liked about Leola’s character was I felt like she had pieces of each of the main trio in her? Of this very helpful innocent well meaning child, kind of like Ezran — and I have also always seen Ezran as autistic as well cause I know that Leola canonically is — and then you also kind of have the whole oh she gave  / helped humans have primal magic, which obviously Callum has. And even just being this young elven girl punished for her compassion and mercy, that felt a lot like Rayla. And when making the choice for Leola to be Leola, was that something intentional or like the choice for it to be a child rather than another loved one?
A: It was very intentional that it was a child... And we talked through other versions of Leola that could’ve been, in other ages, genders, relationships with Aaravos that an important person was lost. Some of the things I liked about the way, Leola both as a child, children are the cycle breakers.
R: Yes, yeah. I think it was the strongest choice.
A: And in particular also, the idea of coding her autistic was a little bit like not as cued to kind of accept the social order and the order of things, but actually more open in a way to in what some people see as like — something that’s broken which is not taking those cues, something else about that — not being bound by it that allowed her to have compassion that crossed the line in terms of the perceptions of what the Cosmic Order needed to be in it — but it made her more, both as a child and an autistic person, to make that choice and do what she did that changed everything.
R: Makes a lot of sense.
A: [Her being a child] also frames it with some innocence obviously right? It’s not calculated, it’s kind. 
R: Yeah.
A: So I dunno.
R: Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been curious about how Ezran might be challenged now that Runaan is back in the picture.
A: That’s a great question. That’s a great question. I mean, it’s so weird, it’s like no one even asks that, it’s like “Cool,” Rayla’s like “I’m gonna go get him. Awesome! Runaan’s back.”
R: Yeah I’m like either — either Callum is like “Ezran will be totally fine with it,” and Ezran  is probably not going to be fine with it, or maybe Callum knew that maybe it wouldn’t be great, and kept it under wraps. Yeah, I’m so excited for that like trio, potential broyals conflict, so...
A: Well, I mean, Ezran is a very special kid and he’s very positive and kind and forgiving and all of this. But we’re talking about, Runaan is back.
R: Castle’s destroyed.
A: Katolis is rubble. Where does that leave him?
R: Yeah.
A: You know? I mean — so I’m excited about that part of Ezran.
R: I know the fandom is really, really excited for Ezran to get to be — not that he hasn’t always been complex, but to get to be like messier, of letting his emotions maybe get the better of him and that sort of thing. So people are definitely hype for that, for — cause I feel like season six really brought home a lot of things for Soren, and it seems like season seven is going to do a similar thing for Ezran, so that’s — that’s really exciting. Um, with our final couple minutes, I wanted to see — do you have any questions that you want fans to ponder or to be thinking about?
A: Um... Gosh. I don’t think I have anything specific that we haven’t talked about, but you know. On some level, like, you know how do you take the tragedies and conflicts that we all inevitably face repetitively and relentlessly and kind of learn to move forward in hope and optimism? I think that’s more of a question of like how do you personally learn to process — all the kind of bullshit in the world, and process it, and still move forward as a kind, connected—
R: Measured person.
A: —hopeful person? That’s a challenge we all face in our lives, so that’s like...
R: Yeah. Well, I think the show does a good — really good job at asking and challenging that — that question. Uh, yeah, I think — I think that’s our time for today, uh. Thank you so much, this was... 
A: It was my pleasure. 
R: This was a lot of fun.
A: It’s always my pleasure reading your theories and your—
R: [Gasps] Oh my gosh.
A: Honestly, I came on today and to tell the truth [R laughs] a little bit intimidated.
R: Oh my God. 
A: You’re so—
R: I also felt intimidated [laughing] so don’t worry.
A: You’re so insightful and articulate, that I almost am like [R laughs] what if they catch me that there’s something not as smart in the show as I thought it was?
R: Oh my gosh, no, you’re fine.
A: [Overlapping] So anyway, I really enjoy what you write—
R: [Overlapping] I’m also a writer so I know what it’s like to be like “I did this subconsciously,” it’s — yeah.
A: I love what you instigate in the fandom and the kind of conversations you support and engage in. I’m a huge fan of yours, so.
R: Oh! Thank you so much, that’s so sweet. Um. And I am a huge fan of yours.
A: Yay. That’s a great way to end a podcast.
R: That is a great way. Okay. Alright, well thank you so much, hope you have a great day, great week, uh, and — yeah. Okay.
A: Alright, and I’ll see you soon, we’ll do this again sometime, I hope. 
R: Yes! Yeah. Okay.
A: Alright. Thanks again. Alright, bye.
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ravennaortiz · 4 months ago
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The Elevator Chronicles: Juices Story.
Summary: What happens when you get trapped on an elevator with your hot neighbor? As always 18+
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You had just stepped into the elevator after a day of shopping when you heard a male voice call to hold it. Normally you would have ignored it but you had recognized the voice of your hot neighbor across the hall. Your heart raced as he jogged into view as you held the door. You had had a crush on him since you moved in almost a year ago. The two of you had gotten close and he had invited you to a couple of the parties his motorcycle club threw on Fridays.
“Thanks” he said as the door shut. Shooting you his signature smile as he leaned against the wall of the elevator.
Before you could respond the lights went off and the elevator jerked making you pitch forward into him. Your bags falling from your hands as you tried to steady yourself.
“You okay?” asked Juice as he easily caught you his arms hugging you close a bit longer than he needed.
“Yeah” you replied glad the lights were off to hide your embarrassment as you realized your hands were gripping the front of his shirt, effectively groping him before you stepped back. “What happened?” you inquired as your eyes started to adjust to the dark.
“I’m guessing this old elevator finally bit the dust” replied Juice with a chuckle as he stepped around you to push the buttons on the panel. The elevator sounds had been a running joke the last few months and it had begun to get slower it seemed. The whole building was wondering when it would finally go out as the landlord refused to look into it.
“Ughhh, please don’t tell me we are trapped” you replied as panic started to tickle your brain.
“Jeez, tell me how you really feel about your current company” teased Juice as he pushed the emergency call button.
“It’s not you. It’s me” you rushed giving yourself a smack to the forehead mentally for saying something so stupid.
“I know. I’m only teasing you” replied Juice as a dial tone filled the elevator. “I know you hate enclosed spaces. We will be fine though okay?” he soothed as he grabbed your hand in the dark and squeezed gently.
“Think we might be here a bit” stated Juice after a few minutes of just the dial tone playing. “Might as well get comfy” he added as he slid down the wall to the floor. Gently pulling you with him. ”Hungry? I got tacos with chips and queso from that hole in the wall down the street.” He offered as he rummaged around for his bags.
You laughed as you scooted closer to him. “Yeah. I hate to take your dinner though”
“Don’t worry about it. You can just take me for dinner tomorrow” replied Juice as he divided up the food.
“You drive a hard bargain Juice. But deal I’ll take you to dinner if you let me ride on the bike” you replied as you took your food.
“Damn is it that easy to get a woman on your bike? Just offer her food while trapped on an elevator?” he teased making you laugh.
By the time you two had finished eating you were feeling more relaxed. A woman had come over the phone and stated it would be a few hours but that they were aware of them being trapped. So that had helped also.
You were leaning your head against Juices shoulder eyes closed when he spoke.
“So I got dinner. What did you get?” he asked as he nudged your bags with the toe of his boots.
Grabbing the bags you started pulling stuff out as you spoke. “Pair of heels, clothes, some lip balm and a-“ you started before stopping abruptly as the box of condoms came into sight. Your face heated as you tried to move on but Juice picked up on your nervousness.
“Ohhhh do we got something naughty in the bag?” he teased as he pretended to grab the bag. Laughing as you smacked his hand away.
“What is it?” he continued as you two wrestled around on the floor as he tickled your sides.
“Okay okay” you conceded as you laughed and held the bag to him.
“Oh what luck these are my size” he said with a straight face as he shook the box of condoms in the air and winked at you.
You rolled your eyes as you began to put your stuff back in the bags.
“So tell me about him” stated Juice as he leaned back against the wall watching you.
“About who?” you asked frowning as you looked at him
“Your guy that you got the condoms for” replied Juice with a laugh.
“Oh…im not dating anyone…..its just in case….when out….ya know?” you muttered as you moved to grab the box from him. Looking up at him when his grip didn’t loosen.
“I see…. Maybe you want dessert then?” inquired Juice quietly as he pulled the box from you and opened it. “Cause I could do dessert” he added as he pulled a condom out.
“Dessert would be great” you replied as you nodded.
A few minutes later you were both naked. Hands and mouths roaming each others bodies as you straddled his lap. Bouncing on his thick cock. Moaning and groaning as he sucked and nipped at your nipples. His fingers gripping your ass, occasionally delivering a firm smack that had you crying his name out.
“Wanted to do this for so long” he groaned as he pulled from your chest and nipped up your neck before latching onto your mouth. Swallowing your moans down his throat as he started to thrust up into you. He grunted as your body clamped down around him as you came, nails digging into his shoulders. His thrusts became erratic before finally slamming into you one more time as he came.
Just as you were catching your breaths the elevator started moving and lights came on. You both scrambled to get clothes on but not before Juice spoke.
“Don’t put too much on. I’m going to need a bit more not quite full” he stated as he grabbed your panties and tucked them in his kutte.
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raffe156 · 2 years ago
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Room for one more
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Pairing - Price x OC Tank (F!reader)
Summery - Testing the limits of a one man tent…
A/N- little Drabble based on those single tents @atomiccrownpoetry mentioned, I’m sorry it took so long! Though I’ve tagged it as Tank an I read it as Tank and some of you will do the same, I don’t mention her by name so can be read as Price x F!reader 😌
Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism kind of , Language, Age gap Price (38) Tank (26) unsafe sex, p in v
✨As always comments and feedback welcome ✨
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank
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“You should get your head down kid, you look shattered” Price rubbed your back, he towered over you his hand lingered between your shoulder blades.
He was right it had been a long day of recon and you weren’t about to get into another argument with Soap over who ate the last digestive biscuit.
It was you but you weren’t about to admit that. Tonight was the last night of a 3 day stay in the desert and you were ready to go home.
“Yeh you’re right” You stood up stretching your back.
“Listen, one more night of this and I promise you fresh sheets and a real pillow.” Price squeezed the back of your neck a smile on his face. Everyone cheered at the idea of getting their heads down in a proper bed, but you knew he didn’t mean the beds back at the base. The thought caused a stir in your stomach and it was enough to get you through the next few hours.
You said your good nights and walked back to your single tent with Farah in tow.
You chit chatted as you both stripped down to your under layers outside your tents. Even though the temperature dropped at night, inside the tent was insulated and the last few nights had been so warm you had slept with just the mesh panel.
“Was it you that ate the last of those biscuits Soap loves so much?” Farah laughed as she turned you around to braid your hair just like she had done the last few nights. You gave her a knowing smirk as you handed her the comb. She laughed shaking her head.
“Sooo you and Alex eh?”
Farah didn’t need to see your face she could hear the grin as clear as your words.
“Asimat!” She tugged the braid playfully. You held your head laughing.
“OK OK ‘ana asf!” You pleaded.
“Never mind that, what about you and the Captain eh? Ya ‘iilahi, I see the way he looks at you, like a starving man looks at a meal…”
“Farah! Asimat!” You could feel your face flushing.
She tied a bobble around the braid a cocky look on her face. You both eyed each other, before bursting out laughing the sound echoed across the campsite and off into the distance.
For a few minutes the two of you weren’t soldiers in the night, but just two girls braiding each others hair and laughing about boys at a sleepover.
***********
You lay in your tent listening to the sounds of the desert, the distance chirps and hoots.
Just as your mind was finally drifting off you felt the air shift, turning your head slowly you watched the zip of the tent door curl down to reveal the pitch black night, the warm breeze blowing in as a dark silhouette moved closer inside. You knew instantly who it was the air bringing in the smell of dampened fire and cigar smoke.
You blinked a few times trying to make out where the nighttime visitors face was.
“You awake kid?”
“Yeh…I’am now”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Don’t think you’ll fit”
“I will…move over”
“Move over where? It’s a 1 man tent”
“Good thing I’m just 1 man then eh?”
“….”
“Just move over” a growl more than a whisper now.
“Someone’s gonna see you, I thought you said we have to wait till we get back home? You fully lectured me about it?”
“I know what I said…just move over”
You did as you were told, moving on to your side allowing your Captain to slide in next to you. It was a tight fit as he zipped the panel shut behind him, you could feel the air trapped inside get heavy.
“Come ere” Price pulled you into him, you threw your leg over his waist.
“Oh I’ve missed this…can’t wait to get back to mine, don’t plan on letting you leave the bed let alone the bedroom” He let out a little chuckle as he kissed the top of your head.
“I know it’s not the same….but I’ve wanted to be close with you like this since we arrived Kid, it’s been driving me insane…”
“I’m more than happy with this, I’ve missed you too Boss”
You stretched your body out over his, your hands finding their place to settle.
He was in his joggers and a T-shirt, he must of walked the distance from his tent to yours in his socks you could feel the tiny grains of sand against your legs. You tried to pull them off his feet with your own.
“What are you doing? You’re not taking another pair of my socks!”
“No you’ve got sand on them, take them off”
You felt a little rumble of a laugh come from his chest.
“If you want me to take my kit off all you have to do is ask love”
“Shut up! You’ve got sand all in my sleeping bag take them off now!”
“Oh using your big girl voice are we? Hmm I like it” He pulled you on top of him your body sliding over him with ease, legs either side. You tried to sit up but your back was pressed back down by the roof of the tent.
“John what the…”
He cut you off his hands pulling you down into him, his mouth finding yours in the dark. His kiss was hungry and needy, it had been a few days since he’d been able to show any real affection towards you. You had made do with the odd pat on the shoulder, his hand lingering a minute longer than needed, standing just that little bit closer during briefs, his legs looped with yours in the back of cramped vans and trucks.
You allowed him to devour you in the darkness.
Lifting your hips slightly Price pushed his joggers down just enough to pull his cock out and rest it on your underwear. You instinctively rolled your hips back into him feeling the sturdiness of his erection as it pushed against you.
You felt his hand pull roughly at your underwear, he wanted them off but knew there wasn’t the room or the time so pulled to the side would have to do. His fingers brushed against your folds as he pull the fabric away. Without needing to be told you eased the tip of him inside you savouring the feeling as you pushed through, you could hear the little grunts of frustration and swore there was a whimper or two as you sank yourself down taking him down to the base. It was a snug fit.
“Fuckin ell” he whispered as you slowing rocked your hips back and forth your chest pressed to his. A pathetic whine left your own body. You desperately wanted to sit up, wanted to feel his hands roam up your body, to cup your breasts, you wanted to see his face, see the same desperation in his eyes, to watch as his teeth clenched and gritted together as you rode him, but there was no room for fancy moves or position changes, this was it packed in tight, close quarters.
You tucked yourself in under his chin your head slightly tilted, Price held you close to him as you slowly picked up the pace, his other hand firmly on your backside rocking you back and forth grinding your clit on his pubic bone.
The thought of being heard or even caught made you want to be that little bit louder, just a few feet away your entire squad slept it made your system flood with adrenaline.
As if he had read your mind, Price gripped your backside tighter. You let out a moan.
“Need you to stay quiet love, can’t have you waking the whole camp up now can we…what would they say if they caught us like this eh? I promise you can be as loud as you want when we get back home…” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to your forehead.
You couldn’t take it, you pushed yourself up rolling your hips faster and faster. The roof of the tent rubbing against your back.
The air inside the tent was heavy and damp with condensation, but you didn’t care your bodies were buzzing, you could feel it right there building inside of you both. Each craving for this closeness, this connection for days.
Price placed his hand on the side of your neck. He was close, but you were closer and he knew it your body gave you away.
“That’s it….cum for me love…aww…good girl…that’s its…” he gripped your neck that bit tighter your moans came out ragged and broken from trying to stay quiet, but even though you were coming undone you couldn’t stop your hips from rocking back and forth your body wanted more your insides pulsed and fluttered around him, begging to come again.
Price couldn’t hold out any longer and began desperately bucking his hips up into you, cursing between gritted teeth with each thrust. The sticky wet noises filling the tent, someone would definitely be able to hear, the rush of being caught surged through your body again making your hips match the speed of Price’s thrusts. This caused you both to fall apart very quickly. You buried your head in his neck to stifle your cries.
“Fuckkkkkk…” Prices groaned as he came inside you, his thrusts slowing as he became more sensitive.
You both lay there trying to catch your breath, your bodies pulsing as your heartbeats tried to regulate. Once the blood had stopped rushing in your ears you tried to listen for any movement outside the tent, hushed voices or footsteps, but all you could hear were the distant hoots and howls of the night.
“Think we’re good…” Price kissed your temple as he slowly unzipped one of the panels to let some air in.
*************
You woke up at 6:00 alone having no idea when Price had left you, but you felt his socks at the bottom of sleeping bag pulling them on you sorted yourself out and grabbed your toiletries bag, the makeshift showers weren’t too bad and you definitely needed one.
As you unzipped your tent you were met with the familiar sleepy faces of your squad. Soap half hanging out of his tent with a brew talking to Gaz, his Mohawk fluffy and sticking out in all directions. The pair of them clocked you and grinned. Your heart sunk. They had heard you last night, but before you could speak or plead your case Ghost and Price walked over to the huddle of tents.
“Morning kid…want a swig of this?” He handed you his cup of coffee you took it looking him dead in the eye.
“Can we have a word…in private?” You whispered. His face changed a serious look on his face. He nodded guiding you away from the others.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I think Gaz and Soap heard us last night they were talking this morning and gave me this look…I don’t know but they know something” you held the cup of coffee tight.
Price smiled resting his hand on your shoulder he leant forward so he was eye level with you. You wanted to slap the beard right of his face.
“We weren’t the only ones at it last night kid, have you noticed anyone missing this morning?”
A wave of relief washed over you, thank god!
“So if it’s not us they heard who was it?….” It only took a spilt second to realise who was missing.
“oh my god….Farah and Alex!” You spilt half the coffee onto Prices boots as you whipped round to look back at the camp.
“Correct…and Soap said they were pretty loud so even if we had been heard everyone thinks it’s them” Price chuckled as he took back his coffee.
Just as you turned back to Price you heard cheering and whistles, Alex had crawled out of Farah’s tent, bed headed and shirtless a weak smile on his face. Soap slapped him on the back offering him a coffee, close behind Farah appeared looking more triumphant than anything as she light up a cigarette. She waved at you and the Captain.
“She’s ballsy that one” you smiled back at her as Price lifted his coffee mug up at her in salute.
***********
A few days later you get a text from Gaz
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phantomdreamgirl · 1 year ago
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Promises in the Dark
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18+
Your eyes linger on the dingy neon lettering that read 'Prairie Inn,' on the faded sign. The equally dingy 'Vacancy' right below it seemed extra depressing tonight, just taunting you with the false prospect of actually having guests check in. You didn't know why you had to sit perched behind the dusty front desk, surrounded by so much wood paneling every night, when it would all prove to be done in vain.
You tried to convince your parents to sell the place and move away, to literally anywhere else, other than middle of nowhere North Dakota. They always refused, since it was a family business and they wanted it to stay 'in the family.'
Despite what they envisioned, this wasn't how your future was going to play out. Once you had enough saved up, you were getting out and possibly not looking back, at least not for a while.
Other than them, you didn't really have anything keeping you here...unless you counted a certain sheriff's deputy that had a crush on you.
You knew you never should've humored him, but you could only resist his dreamy brown eyes for so long.
You'd drag him into the back office for heated make outs, with him whining how you should just open up one of the rooms so you could have some real fun. You told him no, several times, out of some looming fear that you'd get caught. Which, he always tried to persuade you otherwise, but you didn't waver.
That was, until tonight.
You sit, with a huff, behind the front desk, already over everything while your shift had just started. You then pull your phone from your back pocket and begin endlessly scrolling.
For such a mind-numbing activity, it did make the time pass quicker, as it was soon 11 P.M.
You know he should be here soon, as he always stops by during his patrols of the area. Antipation courses through you as you've missed him more than you thought you would. You find yourself actually missing that stupid vape that seemed to be attached to his hand. He's so irritatingly cute, sometimes you couldn't stand it.
You turn your attention back to your phone, getting lost in scrolling once again, when you hear the ancient door creak open and the footfalls from heavy boots. You glance up to see him blow a cloud of vapor in front of him, as he approaches you. You roll your eyes, not wanting him to see how much you missed him.
"Evenin' gorgeous," he greets, leaning against the desk. "How's your night been?"
"Oh, you know, another thrilling night at the Bates Motel," you snark, gesturing to your surroundings.
You each share a laugh, as he nervously shifts his gaze from yours.
"I have to say, I don't like you being here all alone," he begins, "there's a lot of bad people out there that could take advantage of a pretty thing like you."
"So you tell me, literally every time I see you," you dismiss, with another laugh. "I think if some horrible thing was meant to happen to me, it would've by now."
"Hard to say, the world's just gettin' worse and people are gettin' crazier," he counters, "who knows what could happen on any given night."
"Are you trying to scare me, Tillman?"
He bristles at you using his last name.
"Just stating what could happen is all," he defends, glancing at you with those eyes.
"Well, I really shouldn't have anything to worry about because you'll be here to protect me, right?"
He smirks while you playfully bat your eyes at him.
"That's right, honey, nothing's gonna happen to you with me here," he says proudly.
"I'm so lucky to have such a big, strong man looking out for me," you then tease, knowing it really gets him going.
It's his turn to roll his eyes, before he leans closer to you.
"Make fun all you want, but I'm gonna show you just how big and strong I am," he breathes, his voice low.
"Oh really?"
He nods. "Now, c'mere, I've been dying to kiss ya all day."
He reaches for you and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to him.
You let him, as you've been wanting the same thing.
His lips are surprisingly soft as he kisses you slowly. The tiniest moan escapes his lips when you deepen the kiss. The chill of the night is soon forgotten as he's consumed with the warmth radiating from you.
"I knew you missed me," he whispers, as he nose presses against your cheek.
"I did," you breathe, ghosting your lips over his.
"You wanna get us one of those rooms tonight, honey?"
"Gator..." you whine.
"Please, honey? Just think how good I can make you feel..." he continues, as he presses kisses to your cheek.
His kisses are dangerous, as you're considering giving in.
"You're the worst," you say, after breaking the kiss and pulling away.
His smirk returns as he watches you take the master room key out of a drawer. You slide it into one of your back pockets, followed by slipping your phone in the other.
"Lets go, loverboy," you say, as you take his hand and lead him out of the office.
You forget how cold it was as you hurry out into the night. Gator quickly pulls you to him, trying to shield you from the bitter wind. You each walk through the half melted snow, to the nicest room in the motel.
A half faded, gold 5 marks the door as you slide the key card in the lock. It clicks open and you eagerly pull him inside, wanting to get out the cold.
The room itself is almost as cold and dark when you feel him press your back against the door. His lips are on yours again, this time kissing you hungrily. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.
"I knew you wanted this too," he breathes, as his lips move to your neck. "Fuck, I've wanted you for so long, baby."
You just whimper at his words as you feel his teeth scrape against your skin. He plans on leaving a sizable hickey, so everyone will know you're his.
Your hands are already clawing at his bulky vest, the feeling of him suckling on your skin almost too much.
"Tell me you want me, too," he then breathily commands, with his eyes meeting yours.
"I want you," you breathe, gazing at him helplessly.
With that, he lifts you up, into his arms and carries you to the bed. He gently lays you down before beginning to take off his clothes.
The faint light from the neon sign shines through the thin curtain, illuminating him as you watch him undress. His movements entrance you, until he reminds you that you should be taking off your clothes as well.
Blushing, you quickly pull your sweater over your head, revealing a black bra. You then lean over to take off your boots, before emptying your pockets, on the nearby nightstand. You slide your jeans down your legs then discard them, on the floor.
You lay back against the pillows, waiting for him to pounce.
He stands, just in his boxers, as he looks at you.
"So pretty..." he breathes, taking them off and climbing onto the bed.
He presses his lips to your ankle, then alternates between each leg, as he kisses his way up to your thighs. He smiles as you writhe underneath him.
The sensual way he's kissing you is a welcome surprise. Knowing that he possesses such tenderness makes you weak.
You whimper as he nips at your thighs, unable to keep from squirming. He then presses his mouth to your panties, pressing his tongue against the fabric.
"I bet you taste just as good as you smell," he says, looking up at you.
You throw your head back against the pillow, before he rips your panties from your body.
He wastes no time tasting you, as his tongue laps at you, feverishly. Your hands are immediately grasping and pulling at his slicked back hair, while moaning his name.
"You taste so fuckin' good, baby, better than I dreamed," he pants, as he devours you.
You close your eyes, as your legs begin to tremble, only for them to reopen as you whine when he pulls away.
He slithers up your body and hovers his face over yours.
"What's the matter, baby?" He asks, his voice dripping with condescension. "Do you need more?"
You let out a frustrated sigh, before pulling him into a kiss. He smiles before licking his way into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. The kiss becomes messier as your desire intensifies.
"You don't know how many nights I've dreamed about this..." he breathes. "And how you were dripping on my tongue..."
He pauses to kiss you again, with his tongue easily parting your lips. A low moan rumbles from his throat, before he continues, "You're the perfect girl, and you deserve to be fucked like one."
You actually gasp, against his lips, while he grins. He glances down as you instinctively spread your legs. You each moan as he eases himself inside you.
"Gator, I-its-" you breathe, arching your back.
"You can take it, honey, I know ya can," he assures, as he pushes all the way in.
You dramatically exhale when you feel his hips against yours.
"Fuck, you're so tight..." he grunts, "don't know how long I'm gonna last."
You move your hips, urging him to move, as your hands grip his shoulders.
"I'll just fuck ya nice and slow," he says, pulling halfway out, before sinking back in.
You're already back to moaning his name, which he can't get enough of.
"How's that, baby? Good?" He asks, loving how you're already this blissed out.
"So good, don't stop..." you answer, as he leans in for a kiss.
He moans into it when he feels you wrap your legs around his waist.
"You've wanted this as much as I have, huh?" He adds, with his lips trailing kisses down your neck.
"Y-Yes, oh God..." you sigh, as he fucks you deeper.
"I can tell from how you're squeezin' me, fuck..." he breathes, fully burying his face in your neck. "I wanna fuck you all the time, after this...you're mine now...all mine."
"Gator..." you whine, meant to be a form of protest, but too lost in pleasure.
"Say it," he commands, before biting the top of your shoulder.
"I'm yours!" You then yelp, your nails clawing at his back.
"Promise me..." he breathes, as he pushes your bra strap down, his lips mouthing along your skin. "Promise me that you'll always be mine..."
Your mind is almost too hazy to comprehend what he's saying, too far gone to form words. All you can really do is whimper as he places wet kisses across the top of your breast.
"Don't go all quiet on me now. I thought you liked me..." he says, looking up at you.
"I do-"
"Don't ya want to be with me?" He asks, kissing his way up your neck.
You whine his name again as he sighs.
"That's not a real answer, honey," he scolds, nuzzling his nose against your jaw.
"Yes, I want to be with you," you reply, exasperation evident in your voice.
He smiles, his eyes meeting yours, even in the darkened room.
"Then ya better fuckin' scream for me," he whispers, before roughly thrusting into you.
His abrupt change of pace makes you gasp and cling to him even tighter as he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips.
Sweat drips from his forehead onto your lips, when he pulls away. He watches as you then swipe your tongue across your lip, before smiling. He moans and fucks into you even harder, making you finally come undone around him.
His hips stutter, for a moment, as you cry his name, with your nails digging into his skin.
"Fuck...you're so beautiful baby...I'm gonna-"
A loud, obnoxious moan reverberates through him as he spills inside you. You're both moaning as he fills you so full, you can feel some of it seeping out.
He collapses onto you, engulfing your body with his. He's panting, harder than before while you lightly scratch his back.
"Holy shit..." he breathes, raising his head to meet your gaze.
You then pull him into a kiss, not wanting him to say something stupid and ruin the moment.
He eagerly reciprocates your kiss and you just lazily make out. He does eventually pull away and say, "I meant everything I said, I want you to be my girlfriend."
"We shouldn't, though. What about your dad-?"
"I don't care about what he thinks," he replies, his hand cupping your cheek. "I just know I wanna be with you. Like, show you off around town and take you on dates and stuff."
You smile. "I guess being your girlfriend wouldn't be so bad..."
"I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had," he grins, "and you already know that the sex will be good."
"True," you laugh.
He kisses you again before you say, "I hate to do this, but I need to get back to the office."
"Its ok, I should go, too," he replies, giving you one last kiss before sitting up.
You both have dumb smiles on your lips as you redress. He slips his hand into yours as you walk to his patrol car. He pulls you into a tight hug, as he feels you shivering.
"I don't wanna leave you," he pouts, as you pull away to look at him.
"Why don't you come back in a few hours and we go get breakfast?"
A smile instantly forms on his lips.
"Ok, so like a date, then?"
"Yes, like a date," you say, playfully rolling your eyes, before smiling in return.
"See ya later," he breathes, pulling you back to him for a lingering kiss.
"See ya," you echo, against his lips.
You watch, still with a smile, as he leaves the desolate parking lot, before hurrying back inside the motel office.
You resume your place behind the desk, this time with a dreamy look in your eyes. You check your phone, and relief washes over you as there's no missed calls or concerned texts from your parents. You sigh, leaning back in the equally ancient chair, unashamedly excited for breakfast with your boyfriend.
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natti-ice · 1 year ago
Text
Never Been Kissed- Tom Riddle.
Pairing: Tom Riddle x fem!reader
You go out at night to meet a friend, and end up forming a new relationship.
Warnings: OOC Tom riddle, set in the Marauders era!
Author’s note: this is a reuploaded and modified fic I wrote a while ago!
Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3
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Sneaking out of your dorm room, you make your way up to the astronomy to meet Sirius Black. This was a normal occurrence, you two would meet every Friday to talk about what happened that week or what's been bothering them and just goof off. You and Sirius have been friends since first year and last year you two started this tradition of meeting weekly. Since you're both in your last year at Hogwarts, it's hard to make time to see each other during normal hours.
Crossing the castle careful not to run into Filch or worse Mrs. Norris... the biggest snitch in town. Thankfully you have never been caught, can't say the same for Sirius, that boy makes so much noise wherever he goes. After climbing the crazy amount of stairs to the top of the tower finally you see the clear night sky. It was truly a beautiful sight, the early November night was chilly but not bad enough for a jacket.
You're always the first one there, arriving at around 11:40 pm, but Sirius shows up fashionably late at midnight, making you wait.
Tonight he seemed to be taking his sweet time because your watch is reading 12:18 am. Maybe he's having a hard time picking out an outfit or got attacked by a wild banshee, maybe he just forgot? You thought to yourself. Knowing him, he probably had some superficial reason as to why he didn't come to see his favorite person at Hogwarts. You waited until 12:40 a whole hour late and finally decided Sirius Black had flaked on you.
It didn't hurt your feelings much since it was the first time it ever happened, but you're a little irritated that you wasted an hour doing nothing. You're a night owl so you aren't very tired, you decide to explore the school for a while. Standing up from the wood-paneled floor, you let your legs take you wherever.
You walk down many corridors, peaking into abandoned classrooms here and there while also keeping an eye out for Filtch. Eventually, you find yourself outside of the castle and decide to go by the lake, you always wondered what it looked like at night. Walking around the lake at night is kinda creepy when you think about it but you also find it oddly calming. You don't stray too far away from the castle just in case you need to make a run for it, you find a tall oak tree and sit under it.
Lost in thought thinking about everything and nothing, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching you rather quickly.
"Good evening." A voice pulls you out of your thoughts, You look up and see it's the one and only Tom Riddle. He was hovering above you, his signature smirk on his face.
"Uh... hi Tom" You reply a little startled
"Why are you out here so late?" He asks calmly
"Oh um, no reason, I normally-" you say when something comes to mind "Hang on, aren't you a prefect?"
"I am." He says with a hint of arrogance and pride in his voice
"You're not gonna write me up are you?" You ask calmly but on the inside you're praying he'll cut you some slack.
"No, no I'm off duty right now." With a slight smirk on his face, he replied "I'm breaking curfew as well" he whispers almost playfully
You chuckle softly, feeling immediately relieved "Alright then... would you like to sit?"
He doesn't reply with words but with actions, he sits down next to you. Not too close but not too far, a respectable distance.
You and Tom weren't close by any means, you had only met this year in potions class. Tom being known as the introverted Slytherin who had a way with the teachers. You who laughed with your friends and wasn't an overachiever but still had good grades nonetheless. Slughorn decided to pair people who he thought would sort of yin Yang each other so that's why you two sat together.
Not speaking, you sat in awkward silence. The wind tussling the trees filling the air, the night got colder since you left your dorm, now you wished you had brought a jacket. You rub your hands up and down your arms trying to warm up
"Are you cold?" Tom asks noticing your slight shivering
"Kinda... yeah" you replied
"Here take my sweater" he said pulling off his grey cable knit sweater
"Oh you don't have to-"
"Just take it... please." He said the last part softer
He had a hard time controlling his temper at times, he was working on not letting little things get to him.
"Thank you." You softly smiled at him, a small silence falls over you two as you put on his sweater. Wanting the conversation to continue you ask, "Did you see professor Dumbledore's outfit today?"
The both of you engrossed yourselves in conversation for 15 minutes straight jumping from topic to topic. Once you started talking it felt like you had been talking to each other for years.
"And then I bit her." You admitted embarrassedly after telling him a story of an altercation you had with a girl a few years ago.
"You bit her?!?" Tom asks with a shocked expression
"I did, I didn't mean to it was just instinct I guess."
"Wow remind me never to do that to you" Tom laughs
"It was so embarrassing it keeps me up at night" you sigh as you remember the embarrassment. "Okay, I have to know something embarrassing about you now." You say trying to divert the attention off of you
"What? Why?" He says with a puzzled look
"I mean, it's only fair"
He sighs "Ok ok fine, umm... I haven't had my first kiss." He swallowed
"I'm being serious Tom." You chuckle not believing him for one second
"So am I." Tom said with a straight face
"Oh." Your laughter immediately stops
"Is that so surprising?" He asks, almost sounding irritated by your response
"Actually yes, yes it is" You stated
"How?" He was genuinely curious about what she thought of him
"I mean, I figured you would've had a girlfriend or something. Like you're attractive and not terribly hard to get along with." You laugh softly while explaining
He suppressed his smile before he spoke next to not let you know how much your words affect him.
"No, no girlfriend. It's not that I'm waiting or anything, the moment just hasn't come I guess. Sometimes I just want to get it over with"
A pause
"I'll do it." You speak, not knowing what came over you
"Excuse me?" He questioned
"I'll kiss you" you offer
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, friends help each other out, right? It's up to you" you say not wanting to push him into anything.
He wondered if he should or not, he always thought you beautiful. He never had the courage to talk to you until he was paired with you in potions. What if I suck at it? What if she doesn't like it and tells all her friends? He thought. No, stop you'll be fine just go for it.
"Okay" he replied
He said yes, he actually said yes. You didn't think he would actually say yes but he did. You were very thankful he did because that would've been embarrassing if he said no.
You scoot closer to him slightly to close the gap between you. You search his eyes trying to find any ounce of doubt, you felt butterflies as what was about to happen hits you completely.
"Ready?" You whisper
"Yeah" he whispers back flicking his eyes down at your lips then back to your gaze. Slowly moving his head forward.
Copying his motion you lean in. As your lips connect your eyes flutters closed, Tom brings his right hand up to gently cradle your face. Rhythmically you two move your mouths as one, in a sweet gentle kiss.
After a few seconds he pulls away, both of your faces feel red hot. Not sure what to do next Tom clears his throat and looks down at his watch.
"It's late... we should probably go back to the castle" he says
"Yeah you're right" you agree feeling embarrassed
Tom rises first, he offers you a hand. You hesitate a moment before accepting it, allowing him to pull you up. Tom hand lingers on yours for a second too long before releasing.
Walking side by side into the castle headed toward your dorm. Tom insisted on dropping you off. You both walked together in a thick silence.
Making it to your common room entrance, it's time to say goodnight.
"I had fun tonight" you spoke first
"Yeah I did too" he smiles very softly
"I uh, I guess this is Goodnight" you smile "Goodnight Tom"
"Goodnight Y/N"Tom turns around walking a few steps before you notice you still have on his sweater.
"Wait, Tom, your sweater." You call out to him
He turns to face her with that same small smile
"Keep it, it looks better on you."Tom walks away.
You smile to yourself and think to yourself I think I like Tom Riddle.
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solnerao · 7 months ago
Text
Alone
LOG ENTRY: SOL 90
It occurred to me today that someday someone from earth might actually listen to these logs, so I figure I should record a needlessly expository one to get everyone up to speed.
My name is Lena Luthor.
It's been 90 martian days since I landed here with the rest of the crew. That's what, 92 earth days? Mars spins just a little on the slow side.
On sol 6 a dust storm was going to knock over the rocket we brought to take us home, so the rest of the crew went home and left me behind to die. Well, they thought I was already dead and left. To be honest, not their fault at all.
So I'm alone here on mars, no way home, no way to communicate, only enough food for a year, and everyone thinks I'm dead. Which sounds miserable but luckily I do have this disco music to listen to, courtesy of Commander Lewis.
And, if I can get these potatoes to grow in martian soil, which I definitely can, then I can survive long enough for the next mission to arrive.
Which should be in about 4 years.
Which does honestly sound like a long time to be alone. But I've been alone before. Most of the time, to be honest, it's how I do my best work.
I don't know, maybe I could have done things differently. Asked out that reporter when I had the chance. Not gone to fucking mars.
On the plus side, if I do make it home, she'll be so impressed she'll have to go out with me. I'm pretty sure the president is basically obligated to deliver a eulogy for every astronaut who kicks the bucket up here so everyone in the country must know my name by now. They'll probably show the satellite images and everything— actually, I wonder if they've figured out I'm alive by now. What else do all those NASA technicians even do all day?
Anyway, that's basically the situation. Feel free to keep watching these if you want to hear about my adventures cleaning solar panels and fixing the water reclaimer. Yeah, that'll sell movie tickets.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 91
Fuck. Oh god. Okay. Something just opened the airlock from the outside. There's no locks on it, because why the fuck would there be? There's not supposed to be anything else on this planet. I have like 30 seconds before that airlock opens and I have no idea what to do. Obviously there's no windows in the airlock for structural reasons, I guess the engineers back at NASA didn't consider the hab might be invaded by space aliens. Alright. If this is my last message I have some things I want to say. Commander Lewis your music is awful. Lex you can rot in hell. Kara I always thought you were hot.
Oh shit here we go—
Kara?
Kara Danvers stepped into the hab. She was wearing a button down shirt and khakis, no space helmet. "I've never held my breath that long, that was crazy." She said, panting slightly.
"Kara, what—" Lena began. But before she could finish forming a sentence, Kara was hugging her.
In the hierarchy of times you wanted to run into your crush, not having showered in 3 months in a room full of manure was pretty much bottom of the list. But right now, Lena didn't care. The hug lasted at least 30 seconds before Lena pulled back.
"Kara, what the fuck is going on? How are you here?"
"Oh! I'm Supergirl" Kara said simply.
"That… actually makes a lot of sense"
"I was at the office when I heard you were still alive and I just—" She shook her head. "NASA had some complicated plan to get you home, but I just thought, how far away can Mars really be?"
Lena laughed.
"You ready to go home?" Kara asked.
"Very." Lena was already crossing the room to don her spacesuit.
"Also, I was wondering" Kara said, more hesitant now. "Do you have plans for dinner tomorrow?"
Lena turned to look at Kara. "Do I have plans for dinner tomorrow?" She repeated, smiling. "Kara, I live on mars."
"I— right. Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"
"I would love that."
"Great!" Said Kara, "It's a date! I promise it'll be—" "Don't you dare say it." interjected Lena. "—out of this world."
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