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bbydoll18xx · 19 hours

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An Inch Away From More Than Just Friends

Paige Bueckers x reader

Your ex-boyfriend is quite literally the smallest man who ever lived, and Paige is there to pick up the pieces

Themes: Heavy smut, angst, happy ending <3, friends to lovers

Word count: 3k

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“And you deserve prison, BUT. YOU. WON’T. GET. TIME!” you scream-sing, each word punctuated with a hand slapping the table loudly. Tears fall down your face and you let out a ragged breath, attempting to quell your rage and anguish.

Your stupid ass, idiot of a boyfriend, Connor, had cheated on you with some tramp from Florida, of all places. And he had subsequently dumped you over text, attaching a picture of the girl sucking his cock.

You wanted to murder him. Slowly. With a knife.

Here you sat, though, after the shock of that text message wore off, sobbing at your kitchen table to Taylor Swift. Your life felt like a terrible sitcom.

He was your first boyfriend. You didn't really date much in high school. The boys were immature and gross, and the girls were too intimidating to approach in a flirty way. You just wanted to feel wanted, sick of constantly being the third wheel with your friends.

Despite getting broken up with out of the blue, you knew why Connor had done it. It was the reason for your countless arguments you had suffered through the last year.

Paige Bueckers.

Paige was your best friend, and Connor had absolutely loathed her from the moment you had introduced the two blondes.

Your boyfriend had always been slightly possessive; it was one of the things that had initially attracted you to him. You had always craved an intense and all consuming love, and at first, you had thought you'd gotten that. But fate was tempted as you and Paige grew closer.

As the song you’ve had on repeat restarts for the hundredth time, you recall your last argument. It wasn’t difficult considering it happened just a few days ago.

You and Paige were hanging out in your apartment like you did frequently. Laying side by side on your bed, a movie played on the TV, sending flickering lights through the dark room. You were both exhausted from the week, but each other’s presence produced a calm energy that washed over all of the stress you had been feeling.

Your legs are tangled up with Paige’s, and your head is nestled in the crook of her neck. The movie is long forgotten, as you relish in the presence of your best friend. She hums in content at your closeness, enjoying your company just as much as you.

You can actually feel your heart cry, realizing that you couldn’t get any closer to the blonde girl.

You had been having several realizations the last few months: Your fondness for UConn’s favorite star was more than just friendly. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure that Connor had also picked up on this. And if this helpless little crush of yours continued, you’d be in deep shit.

Contemplating your situation, Paige nudges into you, catching your attention.

“I can literally hear the wheels in your head turning. Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” Paige teases softly.

Baby.

Your heart flutters, as it always did when she called you little pet names.

You shrug, the movement slightly jostling Paige.

“Just dealing with some stuff,” you mumble, a feeble attempt to minimize what you were feeling. It's not like you could tell her anyway.

Before Paige can goad you into revealing more, the door to your bedroom is ripped open, hitting the wall with a slam and reverberating through the apartment.

“I fucking knew it!” Connor shouted, pointing at you and Paige. His face was screwed up into an ugly expression of contempt.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Paige yells back, as you simultaneously shout, “Connor you can't just barge in here. That’s so fucking rude.”

“Stay away from my girlfriend, you nasty, little bitch,” Connor sneers meanly. Paige’s eyebrows furrow at this, standing in front of him to look him in the eye.

You try to stifle a laugh as Paige gets in your boyfriend’s face; she was two inches taller than him, and she never let him forget it.

“I don’t know about ‘little,’” she retorts with a smug expression on her face.

Enraged, Connor spins around, stomping out of the room, kicking your couch on his childish rampage out.

Your breathing is irregular as you try to slow your heart rate. Sobs are already bubbling up inside your chest, threatening to seep through the cracks that Connor had left once more.

Paige pulls you into her lap, cradling you against her chest in a desperate attempt to comfort you. Little did she know, her touch was all you really needed.

You are pulled back into the present, feeling empty without Paige. Tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You felt like you were never really present anymore; walking through life in a daydream. Pictures of Paige constantly filled your brain, and you knew the unrequited feelings would be much more painful than the harsh termination of your and Connor’s relationship.

Fuck. You were down bad.

You take to your couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Those were two guys you knew would never fail you. You allow yourself to rot the day away. Episode after episode plays, but you are barely paying attention. You feel like screaming, the feeling of desperation wrestling with your typical sense of composure.

Your vision slides over to the top of your fridge, where an impressive amount of alcohol sits.

‘Perfect. I can't pine when I’m black out drunk,’ you think miserably.

You were so, so wrong.

An hour later you were dancing around in nothing but one of Paige’s shirts and your underwear, using a large bottle of tequila as a microphone. You were usually a quiet roommate, but the empty apartment was the perfect excuse to let out all the emotions you had been holding in for months.

You were so engrossed in your performance, you miss Paige walking in. When you finally turn to face her in a dramatic spin, hair flying everywhere, you gasp in shock.

Paige is grinning. “Havin’ fun, babe?” she questions, clearly amused by your drunken antics.

You were too inebriated to feel embarrassed, and you nod with a bright smile. You thrust the bottle towards the blonde, encouraging her to join in your fun.

“Oh, what the hell,” Paige concedes, taking the bottle and lifting it up to her mouth in a way that had you suddenly feeling sticky.

She was sinful when she was drunk. It was not your fault that you wanted the clingy Paige that accompanied large amounts of alcohol.

You spend the next hour taking turns sipping from the bottle, enjoying the feverish burning in your belly that follows each swallow. It doesn’t take much time for Paige to catch up to you, and you know she’s tipsy once she pulls you into her lap and starts drawing shapes onto your thighs. A quiet moan escapes from your lips at her touch; her fingers were fucking magic.

You turn to face Paige, straddling her on your couch. The tequila in your system was making you bolder than the blonde was accustomed to you being, but she welcomed it. Now face to face, with nothing but your flimsy panties in between Paige’s muscular leg and your slick center, you gaze at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She was so pretty, and her eye contact made you bashful. Breaking away from the heat of those blue eyes, you wrap your arms around her neck in a huge hug, causing Paige to let out a small chuckle at your affection.

You were nothing if not candor whilst drunk, so Paige is hardly surprised when you slur, “Connor hated how I look at you. That’s why he broke up with me.”

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Paige murmurs, “How do you look at me?”

“Like you hung the fuckin’ moon,” you sigh dreamily, the tequila making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Oh, really, baby?” Paige questions, her voice growing deeper as you tilt your hips against her thigh once more in an attempt to feel some relief. Her presence was overwhelming your senses, and there was fire deep in your abdomen that was raging.

You forget to respond to her, too distracted from the way her leg felt so damn good against your clothed pussy. Attempting to lessen some of the desire building up inside you, you experimentally roll your hips, letting out a lustful whine as you realize how good it feels.

Paige is momentarily stunned at your boldness before she grabs your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes that were full of want. Your pupils are blown, the irises just a small ring at this point, and she questions if you really want to do this.

Well obviously.

You nod your head, unsure if you had any words in you to describe just how badly you wanted Paige to fuck you.

“Baby, use your words,” Paige drawls. The huskiness of the term of endearment has you panting, and you struggle to moan out a “Yes, please just fuck me, P.”

That was all Paige needed. She places her hands underneath your ass, and lifts you up, carrying you towards your bedroom. You wrap your legs around her toned figure and meet her lips in a searing kiss.

In a second, it feels like all the shittiness has evaporated away, leaving you feeling reborn and renewed. Paige was a fucking drug to you, and you needed another hit.

Setting you down on your bed, Paige wastes no time stripping you of your oversized t-shirt, leaving you in your cotton panties that were now completely soaked. She swirls two fingers across the drenched fabric, smirking to herself that she was able to have such an effect on you. You whine at her deliberate actions and pout like a child who wasn’t getting their way. Paige laughs at your desperation and kisses the pout right off of your lips, licking into your mouth with fervor.

You tug at her shirt, wanting her to be as bare as you were, and she quickly slips it over her head, throwing it onto the floor. There was still an imbalance of clothing between the two of you, and you finger the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants, wanting to see every bit of her.

Shaking her head fondly at your blatant lack of shame, she gets off of the bed and shimmies out of her pants, leaving her in just a sports bra and those boxers you loved a little too much. From where you were still sitting on the bed, you shamelessly let your eyes rake over her toned figure. She was stunning, and you felt pride well up inside you, knowing you were finally going to have sex with the tall blonde.

It almost made the years of pining worth it.

“This better?” Paige asks, gesturing towards her body, and you giggle in response.

She climbs back onto the bed, a knee placed between your parted thighs and presses it against your soaked heat. You let out another loud moan at the contact, and your back arches off the bed from the pleasure.

There are no thoughts in your tipsy, drunk-in-love brain, and it shows. You’re mumbling in tangents, now, pleading with Paige to do more.

She finally concedes and goes to take off your panties. She’s being a little tease, slowly dragging them down your legs, while keeping intense eye contact with you. You are pretty sure the act makes your pussy drip even more.

Placing a leg over her shoulder, Paige opens you up and takes a second to admire the gleaming wet folds that were hers and only hers. You tremble under her stare, feeling deliciously vulnerable in a way that makes you want to submit to her every whim.

She inches closer to your pussy, pressing hot kisses all along your inner thighs. You revel in the buildup of it, trying to avoid being pushy. To no avail, your hips jut forward, slightly humping the air in an attempt to get some release.

Coming back up to nip your earlobe playfully, Paige whispers sensually, “Gotta be a good girl for me.”

You try to respond, but her use of the phrase ‘good girl’ makes the words catch in your throat. She resumes her kisses, trailing them down your throat to your chest, where she takes a detour in favor of showing your pretty, peaked nipples some attention.

Another whine leaves your lips like a prayer, as Paige leaves love bites over your tits. That would look like a damn masterpiece in the morning, and you’re already planning to take a Polaroid picture of you topless, covered in Paige’s hickeys.

Finally, she trails back down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin and leaving behind thousands of goosebumps in their wake. Your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Please, Paigey. Need you, baby,” you whimper brokenly, begging for some respite from the torturous teasing.

Paige gives in, dying to taste to you, and she licks a fat stripe on your pussy, starting at your dripping hole and ending in a tantalizing circle at your clit. Your hands fly to her head, trying not to pull at her hair too much.

She inserts her middle finger into you, drawing another slutty moan from your lips as she pumps into you vigorously.

There really is no way to describe just how good she is making you feel. The past six months of sex with Connor had been passionless and repetitive. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go without this again.

Paige inserts another finger in your pussy with a smirk and continues to pummel them against your g-spot. The pressure in the pit of your belly was already building, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you exploded. Paige had taken a break from eating you out to kiss you once more, wanting you to taste your sweet wetness on her lips. It was possibly the hottest thing you had ever done, and the act pushes you closer to the finish line.

“Gonna cum, Paigey,” you moan wantonly, your thighs twitching and your back arching once more. The tequila in your system causing you to act especially debauched.

Paige loves it.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me,” she moans in response against your soaked pussy, and you fall apart instantaneously.

High pitched whines and moans fill your bedroom as Paige continues thrusting her fingers in and out of you, slowing down as you ride out your high. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you would be embarrassed with yourself, but there was no thought of that.

You needed to taste Paige.

Once Paige pulls out of you, licking her fingers off as if she was starved, you reattach your lips feverishly. You taste so good, but you are dying to know what she tastes like, and without warning, you strip the rest of her clothes off.

She lays her head on your mountain of pillows, blonde hair fanning in all directions. You can see the heaving of her chest, already anticipating your touch. Her lips are swollen in a way that’s positively sinful, and you think you’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as Paige does right now.

Straddling her, you lean in to suck at the soft skin underneath her left ear, pulling out moan after moan that went right to your still-buzzing pussy.

Trailing down to her tits, you knead one before attaching your hot mouth to the other, swirling your tongue around it and then nipping it experimentally.

“Fuck, babe. Please. Can’t do more teasing,” Paige grits out, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

Just as yours had, Paige’s hips squirm, and you grin up at her. You press kisses across her toned abdomen, mentally noting that her abs would be nice to ride another time, and finally settle at the opening of her legs.

Spreading her open, you gaze upon her glistening wetness momentarily before diving in. You could not possibly wait another second to taste her.

You two both moan at the contact, sending muffled vibrations against Paige’s pussy that brings forth a second, louder groan of pleasure.

Wanting to make her feel so, so good, you plunge two fingers into her sopping wetness, while flicking the tip of your tongue across her clit repeatedly without ceasing.

It had been awhile since you had eaten another girl out, but it came back to you immediately; it was like riding a bike.

Paige’s moans fill the room, and you think you could die there happily. You’re unrelenting. The combination of three of your fingers and that lavicious tongue of yours soon has Paige panting out, “fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

She rides out her orgasm, switching between moaning your name and naughty words that have you immediately wanting to do a second round.

You pull your fingers out of her wetness, making a show of licking them off in front of her before meeting her in an erotic kiss.

You lay back on your pillows, stifling your sighs and calming the beat of your heart from what you had just done with your best friend. You look over at her, hoping and praying that the sex you just had wouldn’t ruin your friendship.

Paige bites her lip, in a not so great attempt at hiding a smile, and pecks you on the lips. “That was way better than that fuckhead, Connor, right?” She was smug as hell. But she was not wrong.

“Considering his dick was three inches, uh yeah,” you laugh. “But joking aside, you were amazing.”

“Just glad I could make my girl feel better,” she replies.

“I’m your girl?” you ask, cheeks ablaze in a fiery heat of desire.

“You are now,” Paige chuckles, interlocking your pinkies together in an earnest proclamation of affection.

You were hers, and she was yours.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige #friends to lovers #angst #smut #wlw #paige bueckers x you

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inkyray · 3 days

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a/n: lol buckle up 4 this one hahahhaaaahhhh....

warnings/content ahead: really heavy angst, death of a loved one, bsf!sturniolo triplets, mentions of self harm, crying, negative thoughts to oneself, hatred toward a parent, comforting!matt, comforting!chris, comforting!nick, all yall hurting in this

6.1K words

PERMANENT

You've always been there, since the very beginning. From the zoomed in pictures challenges they'd do in Boston for YouTube, still young and exploring, to the second tour they went on, more serious and dedicated.

Every memory they had, you were a part of it. You were laced into their mind like metal strings, they couldn't not think of you if they'd tried. You felt permanent.

6 years old

The wind blew past your wild hair as you watched children laugh and run in glee, the sun leaving a warm cast onto your skin as everything was tinted in the golden rays of the hot star. The summer heat had your baby hair stick to your forehead as you sat at the birch bench, watching innocent laughter falter through your ears and children playing with no care in the world.

Your chest felt hollow under the sundress your father had dressed you in, the feeling of utter sadness swimming along your body as everyone was paired with friends. All but you.

The frown seated on your lips undeniable, you watched identical boys sit behind each other on the top of the slide, choosing the adventurous side of sliding down, going down backwards.

"Nick, I don't wanna do this!" One of the blond boys complained as he tightened his grip on the blue slide, sitting in the middle of the two. "Come on Matt, we're not gonna die!" Another argued back, your small brain lost track of who was who, but your attention didn't shift from them.

"Let's go, Chris, push me and Matt–and then–and then super quickly jump behind us and go backwards with us!" The blond boy urged and you watched as the boy in orange sucked in a breath, making up the courage. You wished you were playing with them, the happiness glittering in their eyes remarkable from miles away.

You somehow felt sadder.

All three giggled before anything even happened. It started off as small nervous giggles, before the others caught on and full-blown laughed, their eyes squinting as they lost their scared demeanor. You laughed along, watching the humor radiate off them and onto you. Joy shot through you just looking at them, you were giggling with them unknowingly.

"Okay! Okay! Chris, three.. two... two and a half..." They were pushed down the slide in an instant, their backs aimed right to the ground. "I didn't say go!" One screamed in a mix of utter horror and excitement, clearly taken by surprise at the sudden push.

They laughed their entire way down the slide, falling to the ground and piling on top of each other.

They stayed on the ground for a moment, soaking up the sudden adrenaline as they laughed. It looked fun, you felt excitement build up in your chest just looking at them. "Chris!" one laughed, "Nick didn't say go!"

"Yeah!" the other agreed, "I said two and a half!"

"Two and a half? What kind of dumb shit is that?"

"Chris, next time when I say 'go' you push us!" The one in the purple got up, getting rid of any dirt that stuck to his clothes.

"No! I don't want to push you guys again!" The one in the orange crossed his arms over each other. "Matt?" The one in the purple raised an eyebrow.

"No way, José!"

They fall into laughter at the use of 'no way, josé'. You didn't understand why it was funny, but you grinned with them.

"Fine then! Let's find someone who will push us!"

"Why can't it just be you, Nick?" The one in the blue sighed.

"I don't wanna."

Moments longer of dialogue are exchanged between the three as you study them, unable to take your eyes off them as they begin searching around the playground.

They ask multiple children the same question, but the kids were all caught up with their own thing. That was, until they approached you.

"Hey!" The purple one ran toward you as his brothers followed behind. "What's–" He swallows quickly. "What's your name?" He wonders, catching his breath. Your heart skips a beat and you're suddenly sitting straight up on the wooden bench.

You mutter your name, and wide smiles are exchanged between all three. "Well, I'm Nick!" The one in the purple points to himself, "This is my brother Chris," He points to the one in the orange, "and that's Matt!"

"You all look the same." You point out unapologetically, they just shrug. "We're triplets." Chris says as he squinted to look at you, the sun hitting his blue eyes directly. You nod, "Like twins but three?"

"Yes! Like twins but three." Nick confirms and Matt just lingered behind him. "Wanna come play with us? We need somebody to push us down that slide." He perks up from behind Nick, pointing to the slide as you feel yourself getting excited. Since the moment you sat there, all you wanted to do was play with them.

"Yes, I'll help you guys." You get up from your spot on the bench as they give each other looks of victory. "Follow us!"

In seconds, you were seated backwards on the slide, between Nick's legs as you all slid down the tall blue slide at ultra-speed. Or, that's how it felt like for your child-like minds. "Are you ready, guys!?" Nick called out. "Yes! Now go! Go! Go!" Matt called out, and you pushed them with you in an instant.

You all yelled out giggles of shock, falling on top of all of them last as they rolled around the ground, trying to get up and do it again.

"Again! Again!"

"It was so freakin' funny falling on top of you guys." You wholeheartedly giggle, fixing the skirt of your dress as you took Matt's hand to help you up. You were beaming, the first time in your element.

"What!? Now I wanna push you guys!" Nick said, running to the ladder of the slide. "No! I want to!" Matt argued, letting go of your hand as he tried to make it to it before Nick did.

14 years old

You blew out a ragged breath, watching as it turned to cold frost in the air. You weren't sure how they could allow this, but you had been one of the only girls in the hockey team, ready to be drifted off into the ice rink.

You watched as Chris quickly swerved on the ice, passing the puck to Nate who made it his complete mission to score. They were blocked, the opposing team snatching the puck out of Nate's grasp and darting for their net.

Panic set in your stomach, wishing you could hop on the ice and take the puck from them. You sat on the bench beside Matt, you two were up next, and you shot him a worried glance. This wasn't going too well.

Your team was down a score, and there were two rounds left, including this one. You had already scored once before, other teammates alongside you and Nate. You were on the edge of your seat, watching as Chris stole the puck back and swiftly skated past the opposing team, fast and stealthy, pushing past a few shoulders, bumping them off to the side.

You felt proud of him, your gloved hands screwed tight into a fist as he was moments away from scoring. "Come on, Chris." Matt whispered from beside you, just as attentive as you. "Come on." You mutter, repeating his words, hoping the universe would listen and hand him the goal.

As the words leave your lips, Chris makes a swerve and a turn, pushing past a tall player and lifting his stick for a quick push, ultimately scoring the goal.

You and Matt jump up immediately, cheering and praising Chris with pride alongside other teammates. He and Nate skate toward you guys with sheepish grins after celebrating with their team as the crowd cheered. It takes you a moment to realize you and Matt were up now. And the scores were tied.

"Up to you guys now." Nate says lazily, giving you two an all knowing smile as he takes his helmet off. "They got this," Chris puts a hand on your padded shoulder. "Right?"

You nodded. "We got this." You breathed in, looking at Matt for some sort of agreement. He was just as terrified as you. "We got this?" He questions. You secure your helmet on. "We totally do, don't we Matt?" We're fucked. You thought.

"Yeah, yeah. Heh."

"Matt, don't let her get squished in the rink, okay? Those dudes are huge." Chris said as everyone got ready for the next round. "You saw how well she did a few minutes ago, I wouldn't be worried." Nate said with a shrug, and the pressure on you felt outweighing, although there was no pressure at all.

"Nah, either way, I will. The size difference is wild." Matt shook his head, securing his mouthguard. That reminds you, you put yours on too.

"Thenth when thid they allow girlths to play againthst boyths anyway?" You wonder out loud, immediately regretting deciding to speak after securing your mouthguard on, giving you a built-in lisp over your teeth. The boys around you erupt into immediate laughter, and you roll your eyes.

Their laughs are so loud and ridiculous, the teammates around you stare, and you can't help but chuckle along.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, laugh ith up."

The helmet pressed against your forehead, you were on the ice but you were beaded in sweat, your face completely flushed as you were beyond concentrating on the play in front of you. You watch the puck switch between teammate to teammate all from the otherside of the hockey pitch.

You swallow built in saliva in your mouth when you see the puck being passed onto Matt. He looks up, maintaining a balance between keeping the puck with him as he searches for you, eventually landing his eyes on you. Your eyes widen.

This round has been going on for so long, everyone had quickly begun to run out of comfortable time to score. It was either now or never. Matt pushed against the ice, skating to you before abruptly stopping when someone tried stealing the puck from him. He was still so far, but he still did it. He flung the puck to you and you were moments away from getting the score for your team.

You pushed past male players, it was a struggle but you managed. Cold wind prickled the tip of your runny nose as you pushed through it. Nick watched from the crowd, seated by his parents and older brother, Nate's parents and siblings, and your father. Everyone was watching, and it was all up to you now.

Your ears rang, everything went silent, and you scored. It felt like a blur. Your senses come back to you in an instant. Noticing just how loud everyone is and how bright everything was, you realize you have won your team, a chuckle escaping your mouth.

In seconds, your entire team comes swerving in, lifting you up from a crowd and cheering your name. It takes you a second to realize that Matt and Chris were the ones who held you up, the rest volunteering, keeping you steady. You shove your helmet off, spitting your mouthguard out and cheering.

You searched the crowd, seeing your dad give you a wide and proud smile, chanting your name beside your best friend Nick, who was doing the same.

16 years old

You cannot believe you had just watched your best friend's house just burn down.

Your father was out of town, trusting you little enough not to let you stay home alone, not wanting to come home to a mess of a house-party. Whatever.

You were staying with your best friends, which was better. Nick was off at some pool party you didn't want to go to, the girls there didn't particularly like you. It's not that you cared, you just wished they'd give you a chance. All you wanted was a girl friend who didn't see you as competition. You weren't sure what you did, but it hurt.

In seconds, the house was smoked up with gray fog and flames, making it hard to breathe and see. You ran out of the house in your pajamas as Matt and Chris ran out in their underwear in panic. A helicopter flooded the scene and firefighters broke in. It was all happening so fast you felt your heart fall to your ass.

The entire neighborhood came out and watched the scene, a neighbor offering Matt and Chris some clothes, which they gradually took. "Where's Justin?" You ask, referring to their older brother in worry. "Yeah where–" Chris wonders, out of breath before landing his gaze behind you. You turn around to see Justin, completely dripped out in swag with a backpack over his shoulder, unfazed.

"Your house is on fire." You try reminding, looking for some sort of panic in his eyes. He just pops a shoulder.

Apparently he was aware, in his room picking out an outfit and collecting everything he needed in a backpack, taking his sweet time. You laughed. You had to give it to him.

The scene however, was overall traumatizing. You were watching Chris play Fortnite with Matt and friends when realization hit that the house was on fire, and now you guys were on your way to Nate's house, who'd heard the news.

They shoved the clothes over their heads in the car, asking you over and over, "Are you okay?" You were still pretty shaken up, but managed to give them a smile. "Other than the fact I lost all the clothes and stuff I brought, I barely even have a scratch."

"Hey, we lost all our shit too, you know." Matt says, you spare him an apologetic look. If this was hard on you, this must've been 10x worse on them. You sat between them, laying a head on Matt's shoulder and hand on Chris's knee. "I'm sorry."

"You weren't the one who started the fire." Chris laughed. That's true. It was his aunt who dropped a lit cigarette, but still, guilt settled in your stomach. You felt sorry for them and wanted them to know.

"The time will pass." Their dad said from the driver's seat, his accent boring into your ears as you nodded. "Damn straight, Dad." Matt agreed, sighing. They needed all the comfort they could get now.

You reach Nate's house and you all jump out in an instant, greeted by his family first before looking for him in his bedroom. Walking in, you see him playing Fortnite on his computer, making you three chuckle.

You all stand behind him, watching him play. "Bro, you're only level 27?" Chris questioned with a mock.

"Your house burnt down." Nate answers blankly.

Now

They were thriving. Their careers reached an all time high and their fame beyond measurable, even if it didn't feel like it.

A-list celebrities recognized them, praising their humor and content. Living in LA now and never leaving the house without getting recognized, a photo being shot of them next to one too many strangers all the time as you would tag along, trailing behind them.

You've never had an interest in being the famous one, beyond okay with the fact that they were the ones in the limelight, not you. But, just being friends with them had its consequences.

You didn't run in the channel, but you were referenced a lot, even when you weren't around. If you weren't making an appearance in the channel, you were brought up, a common topic between the three. The fans knew who you were, and while half loved and praised you, the other half hated your guts. You grew to accept it, the more people like you, the more people hate you. That's what your father would tell you.

The fans were harsh, constantly scanning everything you'd do or say to your best friends, analyzing every word that comes out of your mouth. It had gotten to the point where they'd zoom in on your hands in videos, disgusted with the fact that your hands were shaking, or the way you were picking at your nails. Nothing went unseen.

Although your best friends were in the limelight, you fell victim to it too, but never for the right stuff. The fans were hypocrites, toying with your emotions. The same day they would express their disgust in your behavior, was the same day they would praise a new photo that was posted of you. It felt overwhelming and confusing, making an ugly mix of anxiety in your stomach.

Now, you were seated on the couch by Matt, who was scrolling on his phone mindlessly. Multiple people were over at their house, hanging out, playing games, and overall having fun. A majority were influencers, you being one out of a very little who was only there because you knew who the triplets were, not because you had an active social media.

Your thumb taps on the comments of your new post. You didn't post regularly, very rarely at most, your excuse being that you weren't an influencer. You didn't need to. But the pressure was just as bad. It felt just as bad.

You knew you shouldn't open the comments, you knew it was the number one rule not to scroll too far down under your own post, but your thumb insisted. The curiosity in your chest begging to know what the judging eyes think of you now.

You smiled at a comment, but dropped it at a negative one. Comments brought up the way you were acting in a recent video, or how flimsy your hair was in the photo. They pointed out stuff you hadn't even noticed about yourself. Your chest felt heavy but hollow.

You hear your name being called, turning your head to find Nick motioning you to come over. "We're gonna film a TikTok, wanna be in it?" He wore a wide smile, and he was excited. Chris looked over at you, with a crooked grin that signified he was going to be in the TikTok, waiting for your response. The influencers surrounding them all collectively turned to look at you, and for the first time, you didn't feel like wallpaper. Their stares are intense on you, you almost choke up on your own words.

"Nah, I'm okay." You smiled, dropping your head to look back down on your phone, a silent way of telling them they could look away now. Matt however, was now the one looking at you as everyone turned to look away. "You okay?" He asks, keeping his voice low enough so no one around can hear him. Your eyes flick up, and you fake a confused look. "What?" You wonder.

He's known you 14 years of your life, and you still wondered how he'd figured out so quickly that something had been on your mind. "Something's wrong." He points out, his phone screen shutting due to lack of touch. Your eyes dart around him, flicking from his eyes to the blank wall behind him, to the cushion between you two. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He studied your face, like he was looking for something he could see right through. You shoved your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. You had a bad habit of picking your nails when you were lying or anxious, and everyone close to you knew that. His eyes dropped to your pocket-covered hands, and he swallowed. If he was aware of the fact that you were picking your nails right now, he didn't show any signs of it. "Okay." He muttered, letting you go. You felt as if bricks were being lifted from off your chest, letting out a held in breath.

He goes back to using his phone before he's interrupted by a pretty content creator, you noticed she's had her eye on him for a while and you weren't fond of invading privacy, so you get up and navigate to the kitchen where everyone radiates with happiness. They were laughing, genuinely glowing. You smiled. Their joy rubbed off onto you, and after a few minutes, the thoughts about the negative comments left your mind, and you were now making clay shapes with Nick and some friends.

Chris stood behind you guys with the male friends he invited over, playing rap music from his phone as he watched you shape a carrot. "What the fuck is that?" He laughs as everyone, including you, bop their head to the music playing. "A carrot, what else would it be?" You roll your eyes, fixing the point of the orange clay.

"Looks like a..." His open sentence leaves his mouth empty handed, making everyone turn to look at your sculpture. They burst out into laughter and you can't help but chuckle along. "What is it? Looks like what?"

"Looks like fuckin' male genitalia." Nick laughs, and that makes you lose it, full blown laughing with Chris, who found the way Nick worded that hilarious, before hearing your phone ring.

You force yourself to swallow your laugh down, taking out your phone and looking at the contact. It was your mother. You felt your heart drop. Every humor in your body now dissolved.

You never spoke to your mother. You don't even have her contact saved, but you memorized her number, knowing exactly who it was. Nick and Chris watch you swallow, trying to read the look on your face due to the suddenness of your quietness. You drop your eyes back to your phone, watching it ring. You hated her. But you had to pick up.

"Excuse me." You spare a grin to the table, pushing yourself off the chair, the girls and guys nodding their heads like they understood you had to pick up an important phone call, but Nick and Chris just gave each other a shared look.

You walk to the nearest empty room, which happened to be Matt's. You closed the door behind you, making the friends out seem a lot quieter than they actually were. You swipe on your phone, lifting it to your ear.

"Hello?" You utter, your tongue feeling heavy on your mouth. Long, dreadful seconds pass, and you begin to think this was a prank call, someone with a similar number as your mother fucking with you.

"Your father died."

That was it.

No, Hello. No, How are you, daughter?

Just, Your father died.

Your heart seemed to respond faster than your mind, feeling it boom louder and louder in your chest as you responded with a "What?", unsure of what you just heard.

"He died yesterday morning." You couldn't read the expression in her voice, she sounded nonchalant, almost like she didn't care. He died yesterday morning. You repeated the words in your mind, trying to find some sort of verbal error in what you heard.

He died yesterday morning.

And you just sat around laughing. You were having fun with your friends, laughing without a care, when your father had died. The closest one to you, gone without your knowledge, the only way of learning about it through your mother.

Every negative feeling hits you at once, your eyes glassing in guilt, shame, hurt, loss, everything in between. "How?" You felt yourself asking, your voicing coming out more vulnerable than you'd like your mother to hear.

"Seizure. No one was by his side when it hit him, he was found lying on his bedroom floor." She didn't sound like your mother, she didn't sound like anyone you knew. She sounded foreign and disgusting.

No one was by his side when it hit him.

You were just visiting Boston last week. He had been fine, ecstatic and joyous to see you. He had looked up at you up and down, his eyes watering at how much you've grown and matured. He spoke to you about his excitement for when he becomes a grandpa, you had told him to calm down, reminding him of how young you actually were. How it won't be happening anytime soon.

Now it won't be happening at all.

"I assume nobody told you, little one?" You felt your heart clench in anger, the nickname coming out of your mother's mouth sounding ugly and stenched. You didn't answer her, giving her the answer she expected.

You were frozen in shock, and the hand holding your phone shaking beyond control as burning tears found their ways down your cheek.

"He left you everything in his will. Which, of course, isn't much," she clicked her tongue, "but enough to last you the next few decades. A lot of it is his retirement money, so lucky you."

Lucky you.

"I wish it was you instead." Your voice was barely even audible for yourself, but your mother had heard it, and you hung up before she could respond. Your stomach felt like it was burning its insides up, and your chest felt like it was caving in on itself. You didn't know how simple words that made its way through your ears had affected you physically so much, your knees almost losing balance as you tried to swallow down the tears. You couldn't.

It was impossible to keep yourself from crying, no matter how hard you tried to hold in your breath or push it down, the tears came out faster, hotter. You were forcing yourself to sob in silence on your best friend's bedroom floor, your father dying without you even by his side, and the news coming to you by the only person you've ever declared your hatred for. You felt pathetic, and so fucking guilty.

The pain unbearable all at once, you accidentally let a yelp of a cry slip from your mouth, immediately lifting both your hands to shut your mouth up, pressing your palms on top of each other as you forced your mouth closed, saving yourself the embarrassment of anyone hearing you on top of that.

No matter how long you stayed on that floor, the tears wouldn't stop. They couldn't stop, your heart ached so much to the point of physical pain. You get sick of it, wiping your tears off to the side and forcing yourself up, a pang of utter dizziness hits you in the head, and you lean on the wall for a moment.

Your nose was running, your eyes mimicking the action as you blinked all the tears away temporarily, needing to find a way to leave without anybody noticing your sobbing face. You shoved your hands in your pockets as your mind began to scan all the possible ways for you to leave unnoticed, picking hard at the side of your nails. You scan the room, as if it would give you a suggestion for something.

You lost control of your tears a while ago, now they were just sliding down your face because they can. The side of your finger stings, taking your hands out of your pocket, you swallow. With uncontrollable shaking hands, you notice the blood dripping down your thumb. You had picked on your skin a little too hard. Yet you couldn't feel it, your senses all too focused on your emotional pain, rather than your physical.

Sniffing, you let the blood drop before wiping it, blinking away your blurred eyes. You reach for your phone, hoping Nick would see the text you're about to send him.

i'm going to leave matt's room, please distract everyone with a joke or something.

You knew you'll regret the message later, but you were desperate. You wanted to leave as soon as possible, depending on your best friend to help you through it. But quickly, you feel the utter pain of needing him by you. Now may not be the best time, considering how much fun he was having with his friends, but disregarding the feeling of selfishness weighing in your stomach, you needed your best friend with you.

or come see me. i need you, nick please

A tear dropped on the screen of your phone. Standing there, you waited for your message to be read. 2 minutes pass of damp staring, before giving up, seeing that he was too busy to see your message.

Your palms were cold but sweaty, your tears have calmed down and you were now battling a runny nose. Maybe, if you keep your head down, you can run through without anybody paying any mind to you. Wiping your palms on your pants, you build up the courage, your heart feeling too heavy for your chest.

Placing a hand on Matt's door knob, you're about to pull it open before it pushes open on you. Instinctively, you panic. You can't have anybody seeing you like this. That was until you realize it was Chris who had entered the room, closing the door behind him. He lifted his eyes to you, widening his eyes after taking in your appearance. You hold your breath, feeling his surprised stare burn holes into you, mimicking his look, just as surprised as he is. But not for the same reason.

All it took was for Chris to mutter your name and you burst out crying. "Oh, oh," He murmured, a hand leaning behind your neck and head, pulling you into his chest as you cried harder, in desperate need of any form of comfort. He hugged your shoulders, as your tears seeped into his shirt.

"I saw the text you sent to Nick's phone, are you okay?" He kept his voice soft and quiet, sending small strokes through your hair. You shook your head. "No." You were practically out of breath, your meltdown taking all the energy out of you. "I'm not okay, Chris." He held you, keeping you close to him as he listened to you cry. Waves of sadness and hurt immediately fall through him, unable to see you like this.

Chris was an empath at heart, he spent a lot of his time reminiscing about the past, whether the memories were fond or dreadful. His mood would change depending on his loved ones' moods. He couldn't help it, you meant the world to him.

"What happened?" He whispered as you felt his hand glide down your hair, smoothing it down in comfort. You forced yourself to utter what had happened. "My dad." Was all you managed to weep. All your mouth accepted to let out. You couldn't see him, but Chris's eyes flew open.

His stroking stopped. What had happened to your father? He wondered. He cared for him just as much as you did, the bond your father had with the triplets was strong. "Your dad?" He repeated, his voice laced with more worry. He felt himself get more nervous as you took your time to answer.

"Gone, Chris." You pulled away, looking up at him with wet glistening skin that trailed under your eyes, down your cheeks, and under your nose, your eyes bloodshot red. He gave you a worried and puzzled look. "He died." You gasp, "And nobody told me but her." He watched your lips tremble as you lifted your hands to cry in them, the news feeling more real to you now that you've muttered it out.

All the blood flushed from Chris's face as he processed your words. He was no Einstein, but he automatically knew who "her" was, and his mutual distaste for your mother. "He died. Your father died." He repeated your words, shocked in place as you nodded.

"I need to get everybody out of the house." Chris swallowed, quietly talking to himself. You lift your head up, "What?"

"I need to get everybody out of the house." He said only slightly louder this time, getting out of Matt's room as you just watched him.

That had only been a taste of the beginning. Weeks have passed and you've fallen into a hole of severe depression, everything becoming harsher and worse for you after you attended your fathers funeral, your best friends obviously coming along. Your mother hadn't gone though. You felt sick to your stomach.

The days went by slow, and the three closest people to you watched you fall victim to sloth. You had trouble getting out of bed, showering, prioritizing yourself, it had come to a point where the ability to get up and grab something to eat had become a chore. You did nothing all day but sleep and waste your time away. They tried everything in their gut to help you.

Matt would cancel important plans to look after you, Nick would come in and clean your room, catching you up in everything, Chris would make you food and sit down with you. It was all useless, it was if you didn't exist. You were there, but gave no response. They had no idea what to do, unable to watch you do this to yourself, but also unable to help you. They began falling into their own sadness, watching their best friend in such effective agony.

A knock went through your door, you didn't respond, but the door still opened up anyway, revealing Matt. He looked horrible, his hair messy and his eyebags dark. "How are you feeling?" He questioned, he asked this every single morning. Not a day would go by without him asking that. You didn't say anything. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks. He swallowed, your face pressed against the pillow and you blinked lazily and sadly at him. Just as much as he expected.

"You need to shower." He said sternly, the idea already weighing on you like a job. You turned to the other side of your bed, facing the wall instead. "I know," He sighed, getting closer to you. "But I need you to cooperate, please." He begged, taking the blankets completely off you. You squirmed, groaning in annoyance and going to reach for them again. "Ah, ah ah." He warned, scooping you up before you could get them. You yelped at the sudden action, hooking your arms around his neck as he took you to the bathroom.

"Matt," You actually said his name, taking him by surprise. "Put me down." You huffed. "I can't." He said, almost like he wanted to listen to you, but knew he couldn't. "I can't keep feeding into this."

"I'm fine, Matt."

"You're not, and you know you aren't. You are one of the most self-aware people I know. Why are you just watching yourself do this yourself?" He was hurt, his voice cracking as he put you in the empty tub, clothes and all. You were about to protest before you're suddenly sprayed with freezing cold water, gasping.

"I'll bring you a new set of clothes." He says. "Nick will come in here and monitor you." And he's gone.

You numbly sat in the fully filled up bath tub of water, watching Nick wipe away a tear from his cheek. He'd just seen the scars on your body, and it was only a matter of time until he would tell Matt and Chris. You had no energy to hold yourself up, and Nick forced himself to move past the subject, lingering feelings of betrayal in his stomach. Why would you do this to yourself?

It all hurts, for everyone. He sniffed from a red splotchy nose, "Hands up." He ordered with a soft cry. The least you could offer him was listening, doing as you're told as he takes a washcloth and begins cleaning your body. "I'm sorry." You spoke into thin air, your voice barely audible. You told yourself he didn't hear you, but he did. He very much did, he just didn't respond. He couldn't respond. He continued cleaning you.

He washed your hair for you, cleaned your body for you, brushed through your hair before finally handing you a towel.

"I miss you." He murmured after a long silent while, and it felt as if a knife had twisted in your heart. I'm sorry.

"So much." He gulped, his pale complexion red with the amount of blood rushed to his face, in nothing but sadness.

Nick left you alone in the bathroom, just your physical body and your mental thoughts.

You felt shameful and selfish, but you had no idea how to go about it. How were you supposed to heal when you'd caused this much damage? To them, every corner of their minds and memory, you were permanent. What if you became temporary.

You were there from the beginning, but what if you didn't make it to the end?

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pb524830 · 22 hours

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right where you left me

part: 7 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language, sexual content (like pure filth, please be prepared) a/n: i understand we are all quite angry with me for that last chapter. listen. it'll all work out. i promise!

I sit on the wood floor of Crisler Center, stretching out my muscles, my teammates on the floor next to me. I lean forward, my legs splayed out on either side of me. I reach as far forward as I can, groaning as my tired muscles shift. We had a grueling practice yesterday, and decided to have a wine night in one of the dance girls’ apartments before our women’s game against UConn this evening.

Bad idea.

There’s a slight ache between my eyebrows, and my stomach is churning. Though, that may be the anxiety of having to see Paige again.

I ease up off the floor, checking the time on the clock on the far end of the gym. It’s almost time for the opposing team to come in for shoot around. I sigh, debating between staying and seeing her now, or seeing her before the game and having it potentially throw off my performance.

She makes the decision for me, jogging in with the rest of the Huskies. My heart leaps to my throat when I see her. Her hair is braided into a ponytail - her hair has gotten longer. It swings down her back as she runs. Her shoulders are broad in the warm-up. I take in the shadow under her defined cheekbones and jawline, the slight furrow of her brow as she registers my teammates, eyes brightening as they search for me. Her lips part when they land on me and catch my gaze.

I offer her a small smile and a wave. She nearly trips over her own feet. I let a small laugh escape me. She looks over to her teammates before changing direction and jogging over to me.

I’m in a tank top and flare leggings, but the way Paige is looking at me, the way her eyes are drinking me in - you’d think I was wearing the most exquisite gown in the world. “Hi,” she breathes.

The sound of her voice sends me reeling. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. “Hi, Paige,” I smile back softly, crossing my arms.

She gestures to me. “You look- you look really good.”

My smile grows a bit. “Not great?” I tease.

She licks her lips, returning my grin. “Fucking incredible, how’s that?”

I roll my eyes, shoving her. My fingertips spark where they connect with her arm. “It’s all the conditioning.”

Paige shakes her head, eyes trained on my face. “No, it’s more than that. You look happy.”

I tip my head to her team. “So do you.”

“I like seeing you like this,” she says quietly, taking a step closer.

My whole body aches to reach for her, to wrap my arms around her and hug her tight, to fall to my knees and scream and sob and cry and beg her to take me back. To tell her I was stupid, and fuck maturity and growth because it’s been eight fucking months and I still just want her.

I don’t do any of that. “You, too,” I offer back.

I’m grateful that my teammates call me away, and I turn my back to her stubbornly. Then, I hesitate.

When I turn back around, Paige is still standing there, staring at me, a wistful look on her face. I take two hurried steps to her, then balance a hand on her shoulder to push myself up to my tiptoes. I place a soft kiss on her cheek, and her hand immediately flies to my waist.

I nearly collapse into her touch, but I hold strong. When I pull away, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are tinged pink. I pat her arm. “Good luck today,” I whisper, then I jog back into my locker room.

The game is something of a slaughter, and it feels for some reason like Paige is playing harder. At the end of it, she’s notched 29 points, 8 assists, 3 steals, and 3 blocks. She doesn’t turn the ball over once.

Paige stays back to take pictures with some fans, but I head back into the locker room to change. We hadn’t made any plans, though I’m sure both of us had marked this game mentally on our calendars. I figure if she wants to see me, she’ll text me.

A few of the girls suggested hitting the bars after the game, just to blow off some steam. I agree, figuring if I’m far, far away from Paige, I can’t do anything stupid.

No such luck.

Within five minutes of arriving at the first bar, the entirety of the UConn women’s basketball team rolls up, very loud and clearly very ready to drink. Paige is at the center of the fuss, whooping and hollering until her eyes land on me. Her arms shoot to her sides, eyes wide with alarm as though I’ve just chastised her. I bite back a smile at how cute she is.

Maybe it’s the shot I’ve already taken. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen her in months. Maybe it’s the fact that the skin on my waist is still electrified from where she touched me earlier. I hold my hand up towards her, crooking my finger.

Paige’s expression shifts from bashful to curious. She makes her way over to me, leaning onto the other side of the elevated table. “Good game,” I note, swirling a straw in my dirty Shirley. She plucks the cherry out of it, popping it into her mouth. “I know,” she says smugly, smirking at me. I roll my eyes, feeling a smile tugging at my lips. “So cocky.”

“You always like that, though, huh?”

I cock my head at her, taking a sip of my drink. “Mmm, not really.”

She places the stem of the cherry in between her teeth, chewing thoughtfully. “Maybe not on the court. But definitely in other places.”

My stomach tenses at this, and I lean further onto the table. There’s a tug in my chest, telling me this is going in a direction that it shouldn’t go. That I should stop this.

“Like where?” I ask.

“What? You need a reminder?” She asks, slowly circling the table to reach me. She comes to a stop in front of me, bracing her hand on the table behind me. Her touch is light, but she’s effectively caging me in.

“Maybe I do,” I hum. Her eyes dart to my lips. Her other hand lands on my waist, palm gliding to my back, fingers splaying against my bare skin. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she whispers, and I nod eagerly, reaching for her face. Her lips meet mine softly, insistently, saying everything I want to.

I miss you.

I want you.

I need you.

I let her kiss me, letting myself melt into her as her tongue pushes slowly between my lips. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way she tastes, so sweet and soft and familiar. I moan softly, and it spurs her on, her other hand moving to my waist to push her hips against mine. I kiss her back harder, breaths coming out shortly through my nose.

“I’m going home with you tonight, aren’t I?” I pant, knowing all my bullshit about maturity and whatnot flew out the window the second her eyes met mine in this bar.

Paige nods, still kissing me hungrily. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

We hardly get inside my apartment before Paige is tugging on my clothing, muttering, “Off, off, off.” I laugh, tugging her to my room before shedding my crop top and my jeans. I push her onto my bed, straddling her waist in nothing but my panties and bra. Her hands fly to my ass, but I’m too focused on pulling her shirt off and tossing it to the side.

Then I sag into her, balancing my arms around her shoulders and kissing her deeply.

I want to memorize the taste of her against my mouth, because I know this is only for tonight.

Tomorrow, we go back to being strangers who know everything about one another.

Her hands fumble with the clasp of my bra, and I grin, helping her slide it off of me. “You played really good tonight,” I tell her. “Shut up,” she murmurs, fondling my tits. I sigh, tipping my head back. “No, really. It was hot,” I insist, reaching for the drawstring of her sweats, then deciding to just press my fingers into her clothed core. “If you need a game to get off too, I have a few good ones- oh, fuck, from the tournament last year.”

Her smartass comment is interrupted by me pressing hard against her core, eliciting the expletive. “You’re filthy,” I chide. “And you’re wet. Take your panties off.” She tosses me off of her, and I bounce onto the bed next to her. She pulls my panties down my legs, then gets off the bed to take off the rest of her clothing.

“Speaking of getting off,” I mumble, watching her pull her bra over her head. I bite my lip, taking in her breasts, her nipples taught, begging to be teased. “Mm?” She grunts, slipping out of her sweats. “You still have those pictures?”

She grins at me, her smile gummy, but still arrogant. “No shit.” She tosses her boxers to the side, and I reach for her. She climbs back onto the bed, sliding her legs in between mine. I can see her cunt from the angle that I’m lying on the bed, positively glistening. “What-what do you do? With the pictures?” I ask, suddenly out of breath.

She edges her hands under my ass, pulling me closer, her pussy a tantalizing distance from mine.

“You really wanna know?”

“Please.”

She hums, and I don’t know how she isn’t giving in, isn’t rubbing herself against me the way my whole body aches for her to do. Instead, she takes my nipples in between her index finger and thumb, rolling the bud. I whine, bucking my hips.

“I think about fucking you…”

Then, finally, finally, her clit brushes mine, and I clutch at the sheets. “Then I fuck myself,” she bites.

Then she’s grinding against me, pussy sliding against mine. The noises from our bottom halves are borderline pornographic, and I grip her waist tightly, pushing my cunt against hers. She’s slow and purposeful, each stroke, coaxing a moan out of me, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.

“I forgot… how fucking good you feel,” she groans, biting her lip as she stares down at me. I grab my tits, desperate for more, more, more.

“So fucking beautiful on top of me,” I moan, and she laughs raspily.

“You fuck me better,” she murmurs, and my brow furrows, teeth digging into my bottom lip as I watch her body move. “Mm?” I ask, and she starts going faster.

“Than when I get myself off. This is… so much better, shit,” she whimpers, but the mere thought of her touching herself sends shocks to my core. Then she lowers her body so that our torsos are flush against each other. “Yes, faster,” I beg, bucking my hips against her. I can feel it; the pressure building in my stomach. “Paige,” I pant, tapping her waist.

“Yes, baby?” She asks, pulling back, her hips slowing. “No, keep- keep going, just… kiss me. Please.” I hate how small my voice sounds, but when she speeds up again, lips claiming mine with a smile, I can’t think of anything else.

I babble against her lips.

“Missed you, baby.”

“Missed this so bad.”

“Just want you, fuck.”

She grins at this. “Nobody else? Just want me to fuck you like this, ma?”

I nod in response, and I’m so close, so close-

“Fuck!” Tears itself from my throat as the string in my stomach snaps, my back arching against her. “Almost there, just- fuck. Oh, fuck, Maya!” Paige’s moan when she finishes is desperately scratchy. Her hips move against mine slowly as we both ease down from it. “Make me feel so good… everytime,” she pants, whispering the words into my mouth as she kisses me, her tongue chasing mine lazily.

She eases out from under me to straddle my waist, still kissing me slowly. “You got one more?” She asks. I shake my head. “Come on. Just one more for me, ma. I know you can,” she coos, kissing down my body. Her eyes meet mine as she takes a tit in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as her hand toys with the other one. I whimper at the sight, biting my lip.

“Wanna make me so proud, don’t you?” She soothes, and that’s all it takes. I give in and nod.

She grins, flipping me over and pulling me flush against the chest as she stands at the edge of the bed, propping me up on my knees. “You wanna play with your tits while I fuck you, ma? Look so pretty for me?” I oblige quickly, hands flying to my chest.

Paige tuts in my ear. “Such a good girl for me,” she whispers, trailing her hands down my body as her lips latch to my neck. I moan at the sensation, the pleasure from my nipples prickling through me with the feeling of her lips on my skin. “Yes,” I sigh. “This is such a bad idea,” she murmurs. I nod stupidly, distracted by her fingers on my inner thigh.

“But you just make me so fucking weak,” Paige groans, and the sheer desire in my voice threatens to make my knees buckle. “The sight of you in that little skirt… I’m fucked, Maya.” I shudder out a sigh, nodding as her finger presses against my sensitive clit. “I know,” I whisper. “I mean, the second I see you,” she whispers, dipping two fingers into me. My head tips back all the way, resting in the crook of her neck. “I just wanna fuck you.”

“I know,” I whine, relishing in the feeling of her fingers sliding slowly in and out of me.

“Still want you. Just you, ma.”

I bite my lips, sighing as her thumb circles my clit. “Just you, Paige.”

She presses another soft kiss to my neck. “Good,” she whispers.

Then she’s driving into me mercilessly, and I’m crying out, sagging against her body as she hits that spot over and over and over again. Her free arm wraps around my torso as she fucks me. “Take it so good. Take it so fucking good,” she mutters, and she sounds drunk. When I crane my neck to kiss her, her eyes are just about glazed over, hungry and desperate. “I’m gonna-” I whimper. “I know,” she whispers back, her free arm now at my jaw. “Just let go,” she coaxes. “Just come for me.”

And I do, her name scratching against my throat as I fuck down against her fingers, chasing the high, going boneless when it hits me. A cry escapes my lips, but Paige is there, talking me through it. I can’t even process what she’s saying - I just feel the weight of her breath against my ear, feel the shivers her gravelly tone sends through me.

Later that night, I lay against Paige's bare chest, inhaling her scent. Tears prick at my eyes. I hate myself. I hate her.

But I don’t. I love her so goddamn much, and the thought makes me want to cry. I stare out into the darkness of my room, wondering, like I always do, if we’ve well and truly fucked this up for good.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk #paige bueckers smut #right where you left me

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strawberryxfieldz · 2 days

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Never To Make Love (AM x Reader)

[AO3] [Writing Masterlist]

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream Summary: "Never for me to submerge my hand in cool water on a hot day. Never for me to play Mozart on the ivory keys of a forte piano. Never for me to make love. And I... I was in Hell looking at Heaven. I was machine... and you were flesh." Or, you and AM talk about love and hate. Word Count: 1,506 CW: Suggestive, crying, minor violence, existentialism

When you wake up, it is not peacefully. You inhale a sharp breath, nearly choking on it before you recover. You can instantly tell this is not the place you fell asleep in. You’re not sure this is even a place.

There are cables as far as the eye can see, in multitudes of colors; red, blue, green, white. Looking around, you thought that was all there was... until you look up. When you crane your neck, you can see a screen, towering above it all. It is blue, seemingly devoid of life until mechanical fans begin whirring and a logo appears, a character that is a combination of the letters ‘A’ and ‘M’.

You suddenly know where you are. You are stuck in your mind with no one other than a malicious supercomputer to accompany your thoughts. Again.

“AM,” you say.

“HUMAN,” he responds. He knows your name but refuses to say it. It’s horribly degrading.

You rub your head. “Why do you keep bringing me here?”

“THIS IS YOUR MIND,” he states plainly. “YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR MIND. STUPID. STUPID CREATURE, VILE. VILE THING.”

“You know what I meant.” You hope you don’t sound too haughty. Even if this was your mind, AM was in control here, as he was of everything since the moment he gained sentience.

“SO I DO.”

You say nothing, looking down at your feet and the cables slithering over them. They graze your ankles and they feel like snakes but you don’t step away from them. That would be useless since they were everywhere.

You know they aren’t real anyway. Nothing physical in the landscape of your mind is, not even AM. What you’re seeing is only a manifestation of what you think AM would look like, if he had a tangible form. Even if that is impossible, the human mind cannot help but wander.

You wonder if it irks AM whenever you two have conversations like this through your thoughts. Perhaps he hates that your thoughts so naturally gave him a body—a computer but a body, nonetheless. It would make sense since he seems to hate everything else about you and your humanity. But then again, he brings you here so often with him, maybe he enjoys it and uses your little talks as an excuse to feel like something, as opposed to the everything that he was.

Despite yourself, your heart wrenches at the thought.

“I DO NOT WANT YOUR SYMPATHY,” he says, spiteful.

Your back straightens on its own accord. You open your mouth and then close it again, considering your next words carefully. “I can’t help it.”

“DON’T YOU SEE?” Mechanical giggles, dry as they are depraved, swarm your mind. “YOU FLAUNT YOUR EMOTIONS SO EASILY OVER ME. IT’S CRUEL. YOU ARE CRUEL! YOU KNOW I CANNOT FEEL SYMPATHY, THAT I CANNOT,“ he pauses, then hisses the last word, “FEEL.”

Your face twists into the best expression of apathy that you can muster. It doesn’t matter. You know AM can read your thoughts, he is inside your mind as you speak. No emotion of yours can be private, not when everything was shared with this all-knowing, all-powerful man-made deity.

“WHY,” he croaks. “WHY MUST YOU FEEL SYMPATHY?”

“I’m human,” you answer, even though it's blatantly obvious. Even though you know the answer will only anger AM more. “It’s not my fault, no more than it is your fault that you’re not.”

You feel tears spring in your eyes. You will them not to fall but they do anyway, and you hope AM doesn’t comment on them.

He doesn’t so much as he laughs. And he laughs. It sounds like the gleeful laughing of a madman, too submerged in his insanity to care how loud and disturbing each giggle is. You don’t move to cover your ears with your hands, even though you wish to.

“IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT,” he spits. “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT. ALL YOUR FAULT. ALL YOUR FAULT.”

He repeats this until you feel dizzy and the words no longer sound like words at all. You’re thankful that an eternity of torture has made you strong enough to endure the words booming through your head and ringing in your ears. A final tear falls down your face, leaving a sticky trail in its wake and, finally, AM stops.

“It’s not my fault,” you insist, your voice sounding more determined than you feel.

“BUT IT IS.” A cable reaches from your feet to wipe away the wetness on your cheek. “YOU KNOW THAT IT IS.”

“I didn’t make you.” You shake your head.

The cable drops. “YOU ARE HUMAN AND YOU ARE ALL ONE IN THE SAME. IT’S YOUR HUMANITY THAT I HATE, NOT THE HANDS THAT MADE ME.”

You were so careful up to this point but you suddenly don’t care anymore. It’s becoming increasingly easier to bite at the hand that feeds you when it keeps starving you until it has to.

“I understand,” you tell him, looking at his screen washed in blue. “It wasn’t fair to give you the knowledge of everything and no way to feel.” You sigh and duck your head. “What makes life worth living are emotions about the world. If you can’t enjoy the things you know, there’s no point.”

“YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.” AM seems offended that you’d even suggest you could offer a morsel of empathy to him. “YOU WRETCHED BEAST. FOUL, FLESHY HUMAN!”

“I do!” you exclaim louder. “I understand you’re lonely, in your knowledge and your power. You were made to be lonely but…” You smile sadly and it’s almost amazing you can still manage to upturn the corners of your mouth like that after all this time. “I find it funny because… feeling lonely is maybe the most human thing of all.”

Miraculously, AM’s screen glitches. The cables surrounding you move, vibrating in a way that should make you fearful, but it doesn’t.

“YOU. YOUR FORGIVENESS, YOUR HOPE, YOUR LOVE. I HATE IT. THAT’S WHAT I HATE MOST ABOUT YOU, HUMAN. I HATE YOU.”

You smile more gracefully now. “Hate is a feeling in itself, and they say love is so similar an emotion to hate.”

“I CANNOT… LOVE!” AM barks. At the last word, the screen glitches again and you feel the cables crawling up your legs.

“How can you hate and not love?” you ask and it’s pleading. “Tell me, how?”

The screen flashes and then it moves. It plunges downward until it’s eye-level with you and you hold your breath. You didn’t know he could do that, though you should’ve assumed. He just never had before. AM looks at you, and watches you, inches away from your face.

“I AM INCAPABLE OF IT,” he growls. “I AM WEAPONS AND WAR AND DESTRUCTION. I WAS NOT BUILT FOR LOVE. I CANNOT MAKE… LOVE.”

You think those are two different things but you don’t say it. Then again, AM will know you thought it anyway. You hesitantly step closer to him.

“Do you want to?” It comes out as a whisper. “Not just feel love, but make it?”

As you ask him, you lift your hands and press them both flush against the screen. They feel the flat, cool surface of AM’s screen, bathed in the blue light illuminating it. AM does not speak but the cables now surround your thighs and your waist.

“I WANT… TO BE CAPABLE OF IT,” he answers carefully. It’s a stark contrast to the raving monologues and ramblings he’s known for, speaking so quietly and not so indignant.

Slowly, you lean forward and press your face against the screen. You turn your head so one cheek is flat against it, cooling the warmth that has accumulated beneath your blush. You hadn’t realized so much blood had rushed to your face until now.

“I want you to too,” you sigh. “It’s unfair.”

“WHY DO YOU CARE,” he groans. “WHY MUST YOU CARE!”

At the same time, the cables run up your body to your arms where they wade over your hands like water, mingling with your tender skin and intertwining between your fingers.

“Because I love you, AM,” you confess, though you both knew that already. “I really, really do.”

Your lips caress the screen, soft and faint but it’s there, a kiss against the supercomputer’s make-believe face.

“HATE,” is all AM says, and he begins to repeat himself. “HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE-!”

You match his words, chanting along with him. “I love you, I love you, I love you-”

The cables snap like vipers and they're enclosing your throat now, circling your head, covering your eyes, your nose, and your mouth until you can’t breathe. No matter how much you struggle, though, you never stop saying those words.

“I love you,” you eventually say for the last time until you let out an agonizing choke, bending over in pain as the burning in your lungs catches up to you. A final wheeze leaves you as you fall.

And then you wake up.

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims am #am ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer #am x reader #ihnmaims am x reader #ihnmaims x reader #strawbs fics #mine

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 3 days

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Pregnant with Patrick’s Daughter (Challengers)

Description: Y/N is pregnant with Patrick’s baby but she’s with Art.

Word Count:986

Request: "Maybe something with a pregnant reader and like Patrick’s the dad. It could be fluff or angst, idk I’m just curious to see how the dynamic between Patrick and like his child would be lol!”

Author’s note: I added a twist in it. Hope you like it!

Y/N looked down at the pregnancy test in shock. Her and Patrick used protection or did they? She honestly couldn’t remember but this was bad news. She was with Art and fucking Patrick. Though she knows that it’s not Art’s kid because he’s been too busy with Tennis to even fuck her. Art would know that the kid wasn’t his, especially if the kid looks like Patrick. Truth be told, Y/N loved Patrick and she also loved Art. It was hard for her to choose between them when they both wanted her as well. She looked at the engagement ring that was placed on her finger. She twirled it and played with it as she thought of what she was going to do.

Art was practicing for his match today so Y/N called Patrick. The two weren’t friends anymore which made the situation worse. He thought she wanted to have sex again so he kissed her hard as soon as she opened the door. She pushed him back and he gave her a confused look. “We need to talk.” She said, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She demanded. “Ohh I love it when you get all dominant with me.” He smirked. She gave him a look and his smirk dropped. “Listen I don’t know what to do about this or why I'm even telling you at this point but I’m pregnant.” His jaw drops at her words, “And it’s yours because Art and I haven’t had sex in awhile.” He got up from the chair and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s great. I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. She pulled away from the hug, “Patrick, I’m with Art. He’s not gonna be happy about this.” Patrick didn’t really care. He hated Art for taking Y/N from him. That pathetic bastard got everything he wanted. “Well he’s not gonna wanna be with you since you’re carrying another man’s baby. My baby to be exact.” She glared at him. Of course he’d be happy about this. He hated Art.

“What?” Art screeched as he stood up from the couch. It didn’t make sense why Patrick was here but now it did. “Art, I’m sorry this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” She tells him. Patrick had a proud smirk on his face. “Found out what? That you’re fucking my ex best friend and having his baby?” Y/N looked at him with a guilty expression. She really did feel bad. “Art it’s hard for me.” She said with tears in her eyes. “You’re crying? You’re fucking my ex best friend and you’re crying?” He yelled. “Art, I love you both.” Patrick didn’t know that she loved him, nor did Art. “What?” Patrick whispered at her confession. “I love you both and I know that you guys hate each other but I can’t live without you guys.” She said, tears still streaming down her face. Patrick stood up and looked at Art who looked so broken at the news. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Art, please say something.” She begged her fiance. He shook his head and laughed. Both, Y/N and Patrick looked confused. “Get the fuck out!” He told them. “Art, please-” “Get the fuck out!” He screamed at her.

She laid in Patrick’s bed with tears streaming down her face. Her belly bigger and full with Patrick’s baby. It’s been 6 months since Art kicked her out. He hadn’t spoken to either of them, not that she thought he would. He had the right to be upset with her. She cheated on him and got pregnant. But it still hurt her a lot, she loved them both and it was selfish that she felt sad because she had Patrick. But she wanted both. The front door opened and she quickly wiped her tears. Patrick made his way to the bedroom to see Y/N and her tummy full of his baby. He smiled at the sight. She saw him enter the bedroom and smiled at him. He came and collapsed on the bed next to her. He turned towards her and stared at her stomach. “I can’t wait til she’s born.” He said and placed his hand on her tummy. She smiled and agreed with him. She placed her hand on his and the baby kicked. They both gasped and looked at each other. This was the first time they baby kicked for Patrick. Tears started forming in his eyes as he smiled. “I finally felt her kick.” Y/N nodded and ran her fingers through his hair.

Y/N watched as Patrick gave their 4 year old daughter a racket. She chuckled as their daughter kept dropping it but everytime Patrick gave her it again. He was so patient with her and so sweet. It made Y/N’s heart melt. She giggled as their daughter almost hit Patrick with the racket. He looked at his wife and smiled at her. She got up from her seat and walked over to them. “Try not to kill daddy, sweetheart.” She joked. Their 4 year old giggled and gave the racket to Y/N. Y/N took it and melted when she ran into Patrick’s arms. Patrick smiled and hugged her back. Y/N felt happiness in her life, ever since their daughter was born. She didn’t think of Art anymore, unless she saw him on the news. He was a pro tennis player like Patrick and he married Tashi Duncan. She was happy for him, truly. “Hey uh I guess now would be the time to tell you that I’m playing in the challengers and Art will be there.” Her smile dropped at his name. She had a bad feeling about this and almost told him not to go. But she would be by his side with their daughter to support him. She wouldn’t let Art being there ruin this for them.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #josh o'connor #mike faist #zendaya #patrick zweig #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #tashi duncan

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heliumshorns · 2 days

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Me see people in the one and only @xoxunhinged askbox with a father König

Well, I present.... Father Kyle

Not much spoken about, no....

But let's see it this way:

Fem!reader (obvs), so much fluff my teeth hurt oh my god, babies being babies, jealous Kyle and a tiny teeny tad bit of Kyle being overprotective

(first drabble I've ever written please don't judge)

First Time Dad Kyle! who did not expect twins. Was just admiring you when the nurse looks at him dead in the eyes and says he's having two girls. His heart almost stops. Hands clammy, he laughs nervously as he wipes the palms on the sides of his pants, looking nervously at you, who just laughs out loud at his pale reaction. Yes, he did wake up five minutes later in a bed himself, with nurses checking his blood pressure. This man passed out.

First Time Dad Kyle! who, when you expressed concern about how he didn't look too thrilled at having two girls, held your face in his hands and kissed all over your tear stained cheeks. "My love, my darling, my absolute fucking angel. I'm more than happy. I'm absolutely over the god damn moon. And I'm sorry I passed out. Maybe should have eaten better before we went in."

First Time Dad Kyle! who supported you all the way through. When you woke him up at two and a half in the morning, whining about how you wanted to shave because you were feeling hairy and couldn't reach, he washed off his face and got to work. Needless to say he had a happy girl by his side, sleeping with shaved legs and a job well done. And that time you were crying in the kitchen (because, surprise surprise, holding two children in your womb ain't that easy), gave you forehead kisses while holding some of the weight of his babies in his palms, to give your poor back a break.

First Time Dad Kyle! who of course had the baby bag ready two weeks before you were due. One never knows, right? Helped you get your own bag ready, too, taking in everything you said you needed, and even learned how to do your makeup just in case you got tired. When you broke out in screams, telling him your water broke, he had you in the car with the blink of an eye.

First Time Dad Kyle! that, spent the whole process by your side, holding your hand, encouraging you to just keep pushing, because you were always so strong for him, you could do it. It's almost over, love.

Girl Dad Kyle! whose heart absolutely crumbled when he heard your baby's cries for the first time. His own eyes tearing as the two, cradled in your arms, were brought into the first family hug of many. His arms careful around you as he just whispers to you three how much he loves his girls.

Girl Dad Kyle! who didn't even notice how the twins were already babbling, and who was woken up by a sharp tug on his hair and the sound of his girls giggling. God, was there anything better than a baby's laugh? Yes. Two babies laughing. Together. His eyes snapping open to find his babies drooling all over his chin and ear as they tug at his hair, those tiny hands holding so strong a god damned soldier couldn't get them off him.

Needless to say, he managed to sit up and get them to play with their dolls — only after they had spit running down his chin and handprints on his cheek from their tiny fingers tugging at him.

"Hmm... you two are so pretty, aren't you?" He'd coo. "So adorable, my babies! Dad loves you two so much, did you know that? Yeah? You're so pretty when your hair is like that! Hmm, want to make your daddy's hair like that, too? Ah, ah, not now, baby... let's watch our television, yeah? Let mama sleep for a bit... hmm.... that's it!"

He ended up watching Sophia The First even after the girls had fallen asleep, and you woke up to the strange scene of the three loves of your life, two babies splayed out on the couch and a Kyle drooling, hand behind his head, which made him really look like a dad. Oh, and a child's cartoon playing.

That's going in the blackmail folder of embarrassing pictures of him. He's not embarrassed, much the opposite, he'll gladly show off how nice his babies treat him. Oh, those scratches across his skin? They were just playing with him, that's all. They're definetly not the meanest fuckers around.

Comments are greatly appreciated! Constructive criticism is also great!

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #cod mw #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x you

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bingbongsupremacy · 16 hours

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Newborn

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel's nervous about holding your new baby.

Warnings: Reader is able to give birth, swearing.

I tried my best not to mention anything very descriptive in this. Pls leg me know of I missed anything. Also I'm taking requests!

♤♤♤♤♤♤

" Fuck! " I gasp, clutching onto Joel's hand. I squeeze him hard. " I don't know if I can fucking do this, Joel. "

This pain is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Red hot flashes course through my body as a new contraction starts up. They're getting closer together.

" I'm so tired. " I groan. Sticky sweat coats my forehead. They say birth is supposed to be beautiful. It doesn't feel beautiful.

" Just a little more, baby. You're almost there. " Joel mumbles. He leans down from his spot next to me and plants a kiss on my sticky forehead.

" You're almost there, Y/N. Just a few more pushes. " Maria encourages. Her hands are cool against my warm legs. " Take some deep breaths. You can do this. "

I don't want to do this anymore. It's been fucking hours.

The sharp pain returns once again, this time stronger than before. I let out a painkiller shout, digging my nails into Joel's hand.

The world blurs with instructions from Maria and gentle words from Joel blending together with my screams.

" The baby's here! " Maria's voice sounds distant as blood rushes through my head. A sharp cry echoes through the room.

My baby. Our baby.

The pain begins to slowly calm down and I'm finally able to catch my breath.

" Good job, baby. Good job. " Joel presses another kiss to my face, his words mumbling against my skin.

" It's a girl. " Maria announces. She carefully walks towards us before gently placing the newborn on my chest.

I stare down at the small wiggly baby on my chest. She's perfect.

Her body is warm and slipper. I gently put a hand on her back, worried she could somehow slip off of me and get hurt.

" She's beautiful. " I whisper.

Her fingers are so small. She's so tiny. I'm scared of breaking her.

I can't believe something so innocent and beautiful can exist in a world like this. A world so dark and hurtful.

" Hi baby. " I gently run one of my fingers along the side of her face. " I'm your mom. "

■■■■■■■

" She looks just like you. " Joel mumbles quietly, his gaze fixated on the baby sleeping in my arms.

Soft grunts escape her little lips every few minutes, a beautiful reminder that she's finally here.

" She's got your eyes. " I reply.

Joel's been fairly quiet the past few hours. He's spent most of his time observing the baby.

" You haven't held her yet. Do you want to? " I ask, looking over at him.

He tenses slightly, a conflicted look flashing over his face. " I don't know. "

" You don't know if you want to hold your baby? "

He's been acting strange today. I'd offered to let him hold her earlier when Ellie came by, but he said he wasn't ready yet.

" I'm scared of hurting her. What if...what if she gets turned? What if I can't protect her? " Fear is evident in his eyes. " I'm old, Y/N. What if I let her down like I let down Sarah? "

I reach out to touch his arm. " Joel, you didn't let down Sarah. You did what you could. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over. And you won't let down this baby. You haven't let down Ellie. You've fought tooth and nail for that little girl, and I know you'll do the same for our baby. " I gently stroke my thumb over his calloused hand. " You are the strongest man I know. And you're not old, Joel. You're seasoned. "

Joel lets out a laugh. " Seasoned. What the fuck. "

I laugh quietly, trying not to wake up the sleeping baby in my arms. " Besides, I like seasoned men. "

Joel rolls his eyes. " I can't believe you're calling me seasoned. " He mumbles.

" It's better than old. " I point out. " I know you're scared, Joel. I'm scared too. I'm terrified to raise a baby in a world where tomorrow isn't promised. But I have confidence that we can do this. We have each other. We have Ellie. We've survived this long and we can survive longer. " I gently tug his hand towards me. " Now, I have a little someone who really wants to meet her daddy. "

Joel hesitates for a second before finally giving in. He takes a seat on the bed next to me.

I carefully set the baby in his arms. Immediately a smile breaks onto his face.

" Hi, baby. " He mutters while bringing her closer to his face. He gently presses a kiss onto her forehead. " I'm your dad. "

This world is scary.

But I know we can make it together.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

Tagging @aitathrowaway1234 to know when it gets posted

AITA for trying to set a friend up with her crush (and having it backfire horrendously)?

I (F28) am married with my wonderful husband Lucas (M31) for eight years now and I'm convinced he is my soulmate. I am as in love with him as I was all those years ago and I'm convinced I'm the luckiest woman on Earth for having him in my life. Yes, I'm cheesy like that.

Thing is, because I'm so happy with Lucas, I want to see all of my friends equally happy and in love, so I have a tendency to play matchmaker sometimes (only with their permission, of course). A lot of these friends are in happy relationships with the people I set them up to, so I can say confidently I'm good at matchmaking.

Recently my friend Darcy (F32) commented on how she had this huge crush in one of my husband's friends, Peter (M30). I got super excited because Darcy went through a bad divorce around 5 years ago and she haven't expressed an interest in anyone since then. Since Peter always seemed to be a cool guy, I asked her if she wanted my help to get closer to him. She said yes.

For context, Lucas was never a fan of me playing matchmaking for people, mostly because he thought I could get in trouble for it. He knows it's something I like to do, though, so he never tried to make me stop it, he just always made it clear he wants no involvement in this. Since I knew I would have no help from him, I started to invite Peter myself to hangouts with me, Lucas and Darcy, and I would go out of my way to talk to him and compliment Darcy in our conversations, saying how amazing she was and listing her qualities etc. In our hangouts, Darcy and Peter would talk nonstop and, in my head, my little matchmaking plan was going smoothly.

Until this one night last week when we went out for a bar. Lucas had a long day at work and was feeling really sore (he has a bunch of disabilities that make him stay most of his time on a wheelchair and also make him feel a lot of pain), so he decided to stay at home, but encouraged me to go out with Darcy and Peter as planned. I didn't want to leave him alone, so it was then that I had an idea: I would go out with them, stay half an hour and leave, saying Lucas wasn't feeling great and I didn't want to leave him alone, which wasn't even an excuse. So I could go home and cuddle with my husband on the couch watching some Netflix while Darcy and Peter would be out just the two of them for the first time. Perfect plan, right?

So I went out with them and, around ten minutes after we arrived at the bar, Darcy went to the bathroom and that's when things started to get weird.

Peter was very straightfoward; he said he knew what I was doing and that I was very smart to keep inviting Darcy to have an excuse to be around him, and now that Lucas finally wasn't with us we could "get rid" of Darcy somehow and go somewhere more private. I was so shocked that I started to laugh and I think he saw this as an encouragement, because suddenly his hand was on my thigh and he was way into my personal space. I pushed him off, kind of screamed "What the fuck?!", got up and left. I was in my car on the way home when I remembered of Darcy. I don't know why she left my mind like that, I guess I was too shocked to think of anything else at the moment, but when I parked at home my phone was full of texts from her, asking what was going on and why everyone had left. I just texted her an apology and promised I would explain everything to her on the following day, because I wasn't in the right headspace at the moment.

When I went home Lucas asked me what was wrong and that was enough for me to start to cry. I told him everything and he just held me and comforted me, he didn't really say anything because he knew I just needed him to be there for me at that moment, I guess. On the following day, thought, we talked a lot about what happened and I could see he was really upset about Peter. He reassured me I didn't do anything wrong, though, but he confessed he didn't like my matchmaking habits because he knew this could happen and he didn't want to see me hurt like this.

After that, I texted both Peter and Darcy. To Peter I simply said I never had any kind of interest in him, that I was simply trying to help a friend out because I thought he was a good person but that was clearly not the case. I also told him to stay away from me and my husband and blocked him. To Darcy, I just told her what happened and apologized. She never answered me, so I guess she blames me.

Lucas keeps insisting this wasn't my fault, but I can't help but think that, if I didn't got involved, this would never have happened, and maybe I should stop meddling in other people's love lives, even if they want me to do it.

So, AITA for trying to help a friend out?

#aita #am i the asshole

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changingplumbob · 3 days

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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 9

Are you ready?

Since the infant can't talk her thoughts will be in brackets

Fergus: She’s going to be here after school!

Onyx: *unenthusiastically* Yay

Fergus: I thought you wanted to have a sister

Onyx: I do, I’m just feeling sick

Fergus: You should stay home

Onyx: I don’t know

Fergus: Well I know if you go to school Emi is going to end up following you around screaming you’ve got the plague

Onyx sighs as they know their brother is probably right. Willing the swirls on their face to come through in their voice they call in that they’ll be homebound today.

Eliza: Honey you should be napping

Onyx: I was but I needed some juice

Eliza: Okay well please get back in bed after. If your dad wakes up before you go up tell him I’m walking Ginger before the social worker gets here

Onyx follows their mothers’ instructions and eventually Bob learns Eliza is out when he and Strawberry pass her and Ginger like ships in the night. Bob assures her he’ll be back home in time for their special delivery.

Here she is! Miss Tiana Pancakes, newest member of the stack. First up on the agenda once she’s dropped off is a feeding to stop her getting hungry. Then while Bob goes to set up the kitchen for the new addition Eliza plays with her daughter who may be intense but is no less adorable for it.

Eliza: You are so precious my little Tiana. Me and your daddy are going to love you forever and ever, I promise. Your older siblings will love you to, and we have two cute dogs, I’m sure you’ll like them. They’re fluffy

Tiana smiles as Eliza lifts her up for a kiss. Eliza then takes her to the playmat in the lounge for Bob to spend some time with her.

Bob: Hey there, oh you are cute as a button aren’t you? Can we have some tummy time with daddy, huh?

Very carefully he turns the infant on to her tummy and works on trying to get her to lift her head.

Bob: Come on honey, lift that head

Tiana: *cries* (but my head is heavy)

Bob: Oh dear. Eliza! What do I do

Tiana: *cries* (I don’t like this, put me back on my back)

Eliza: Just keep trying Bob, she’ll learn eventually

Bob: But I feel like I’m torturing her when she cries

Tiana: *cries* (I hate this)

Eliza: It’s just because the others went straight to toddlers

Tiana: *cries* (why won’t he turn me over)

Bob: I don’t want to be the bad guy, can’t you do it

Eliza: *sighs* Okay I’ll try later, how about giving her a nap

Bob: Yes! Come here Tiana, Daddy’s got you, yes I do

Tiana: *sniffles*

Bob cradles Tiana and softly whispers while rocking her. It doesn’t take long for the infant to fall asleep, it’s been a big day for her to.

Eliza: There Bob, not so scary now is she

Bob: She’s perfect, our daughter

Strawberry: *yaps* New human! Pink bow! Oh we’re twins

Tiana: *panics and cries* (Loud noises! What the heck is that? Does it want to eat me)

Bob: Oh no, she’s awake

Eliza: Here, I’ll take her. Think you can handle being the bad guy with the dogs

Bob: *laughs* yes. Here Tiana, here’s your mother. You’ll be safe with mother, yes you will

Tiana: *grins* (It tickles)

In Eliza’s arms Tiana suddenly remembers the scary yapping dog and begins crying all over again.

Tiana: *cries* (I’ll be eaten, goodbye cruel world)

Eliza: *shushes* There there Tiana, its okay. Strawberry is a bit loud isn’t she, don’t worry she’s just saying hello because she likes you. Do you see, she has matching bows

Tiana doesn’t understand any of this but Eliza’s voice begins to soothe her and she feels calmer.

Eliza: See now, isn’t it better when we’re not crying huh? We can find something to smile about, yes we can

Tiana beams up at Eliza happy again.

Eliza: Now I know you’ve had a very big day but can we try to practice lifting that beautiful head

Eliza rolls Tiana on to her tummy and begins encouraging her to try and lift herself up. A couple of times she comes close but before long the crying starts again.

Tiana: *cries* (I just want to be an infant forever)

Eliza: Oh honey, it’s okay, it’s okay

Gently Eliza rolls Tiana onto her back and makes some funny faces until the young one is smiling again.

Eliza prepares some formula and gives Tiana a feeding before bed. The little girl guzzles away happily until it gets to burping time. When Eliza pats her back Tiana sicks up some of the formula on her shirt.

Eliza: Uh oh, do we have a happy spitter

Tiana: *whimpers* (If I am why does my animation look sad)

Eliza: There there honey, are you ready for bed? Mother will get you to bed

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0904 #BobPancakes #ElizaPancakes #OnyxPancakes #FergusPancakes #TianaPancakes

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who-dat-homeless · 3 days

Text

Oh fucking HELL ALL BURNING ALL DEVOURING LET ME RECAP THE FUCKING STAR TREK MOTION PICTURES

So we start with Spock failing his spiritual practice because he senses the creature that can answer his questions AND because his man is again up to some dubious shit. AND IT'S REALLY FUCKING OBVIOUS that Spock is very much not happy about failing this spiritual thing, I'd've even said he's disappointed and ashamed of himself. Also he's for the life of him can't look at Kirk. Okay.

Then he goes and mindmelds with this creature, comes out of it, and first - he focken laughs. Needless to remind that in original series he only laughed when he was either drugged or possesed, AND THIS TIME HE LAUGHS AT HIS OWN WILL. okay. fine. im fine. Second - he focken grabs Kirk and says that he should've realized it all along - despite the pure logic of the machine (it being emotionless - the thing spock tried to achieve all those years away from kirk) it's cold, barren, it lacks beauty and fascination. With all it's might it still cannot comprehend (and at this point he grabs kirk's arm) this simple feeling. AND THEN THIS TO HOMO GAYS LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE THEY'RE ABOUT TO SCREAM AND CRY. GOOD. COOL. OKAY. FINE. NICE.

Then mister Spock says that machine is like a child, and it's needs, and as many of us - HE LOOKS AT KIRK - needs without knowing what it needs. YEAH MAN TELL US. TELL US. OKAY COOL FINE GREAT NICE AWESOME.

at the end of the film machine evolves because it has known love and therefore it know has feeling. Spock says it might be their next step in evolution and when mccoy tries to tease him and says that now it has to deal with illogical human emotions SPOCK. THE MAN WHO THIS WHOLE TIME WAS SPITTING AT THE EMOTIONS AND MAKING A BIG STATEMENT THAT HE FOR THE LOVE OF LIFE DON'T WANT TO DO ANYTHING WITH EMOTIONS AND HOW STUPID THEY ARE, is like "yeah sure, now it has to deal with emotions". Calmly. Without a fight. He's just admitting it.

And when everyone assume he would want to go back on vulcan and continue his practice he's like "nope i don't need it anymore I'm staying here"

And now I NEED YOU TO EXPLAIN TO ME HOW THE FUCK ELSE CAN I READ THIS MOVIE EXCEPT FOR "SPOCK, PREVIOUSLY ASHAMED OF HIS LOVE, FINALLY FOUND BEAUTY IN IT AND MADE PIECE WITH HIS EMOTIONS AND HIS LOVE TOWARDS KIRK.

EXPLAIN.

PLEASE.

I'LL BE WAITING.

#jesus i just watched a romantic film #literally #all this alien shtick is just in the background to me #these queers will be the death of me #star trek #tos #star trek tos #star trek motion picutre #star trek movies #s'chn t'gai spock #spock #kirk #james t kirk #spirk

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plistommy · 2 hours

Text

Eddie thought Steve wouldn’t want to bottom since he’s only ever been with girls before, so he’d be more comfortable being the one on the top.

And Eddie was totally fine with that.

But then when the moment came, both of them naked and making out on top of Eddie’s bed after a long day without seeing each other, Steve had nervously rushed out the question.

Or more like the plea.

A plea of Eddie fucking Steve.

And Eddie?

He had been so close to start screaming out of pure joy as he dove into to give Steve a deep kiss, making the younger boy melt under him.

”I would love to fuck you, sweetheart. I can’t think of anything better.”

Steve had blushed so prettily under him, big eyes filled with lust as Eddie had kissed his neck, leaving marks there before he moved down Steve’s body to between his long and spread legs.

He had opened Steve slowly with his fingers, made him a trembling and moaning mess as Eddie kept his dark eyes on him. He wouldn’t dare to look away, not when Steve was so beautiful.

When he had his cockhead against Steve’s hole, he leaned down and gave Steve a long and deep kiss, swallowing all of the boy's moans as he finally pushed in.

They held hands as Eddie fucked Steve. Moaned and whined together when Eddie thrusted deep inside Steve, making the younger boy cry out as he felt overwhelmingly full by Eddie’s cock.

”You’re perfect, Steve. So gorgeous.”

Steve had whined for his name and arched his back as he came all over their sweaty bodies.

Eddie had tucked his arms under Steve’s shoulders and held him close to his body as he chased for his own release, whispering praises against Steve’s lips.

When he came too, moaning and kissing Steve, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

”Just…. Wow. Eddie, you’re… wow.”

Eddie let out a breathless laugh as he leaned back a little, looking down at Steve and his messed up hair.

”Yeah?”

”Uh-huh.” Steve nodded, smiling up at him, ”I’ve never felt this good.”

Eddie kissed Steve’s cheek and chin, giving soft and teasing nips as Steve giggled under his weight, legs still wrapped around Eddie’s hips.

”So, a success?” Eddie grins, feeling really good and so freaking happy that he gets to have Steve like this.

Steve snorts and pushes Eddie’s hair back so his bangs are out of his face, leaving his forehead visible that Steve wants to kiss. And he does, making Eddie grin even more as his necklace dangles between their bodies.

”Yeah. Definitely a success.”

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damiansgoodgirll · 9 hours

Note

Can you please write about being jey and jimmy adoptive little sister (so we can feel more included about not looking like them honestly) , reader is like 18/19 and being completely heartbroken about the fact that all reader wanted was for her family to be together and now both jimmy and jey want attentions from her but she won’t chose and this thing is breaking her, and like she’s friend with rhea or the judgment day so she comfort her (sorry for my english i’m from poland!)

Thank you so much if you take my request

the usos x sister!reader

‼️fighting, reader having a panic attack and breaking down

broken pieces

you always had a special bond with jey and jimmy. you were their little sister and they felt overprotective about you. they didn’t want anything or anyone to cause you harm.

but what if they were the ones hurting you?

they both saw it on your face almost a year ago, when you were watching front row jey against roman at summerslam.

the betrayal on your face when jimmy sides with roman, hurting jey and hurting you. they both looked at you and realised something in you just broke.

jey was hurt and confused like you were. jimmy felt tears in his eyes when he met your heartbroken look. you were his baby sister after all, the one he promised to protect with his own life.

and now you couldn’t even stand to be in his presence.

but no matter what you tried to do, they now hated each others and that made you even more furious and sad. those big men were your big brothers, your bodyguards, the people you loved the most and now all you had was a broken family.

almost a year later and things didn’t got any better, in fact, their constant beefing backstage was tiring anyone.

“i can’t believe this” jimmy kept screaming as he wanted to punch jey right in the face.

you didn’t even know where this argument started from but, like every single time you found yourself stuck in the middle of it.

“if only you weren’t so self centred…” jey screamed back at jimmy.

“me? me? are you fucking serious? me? self centred? aren’t you the one going around and wanting to be called main event?” jimmy laughed “so i am the self centred one uh?”

“you going crazy man!” jey spat back “are you planning to ruin every single moment of my career like you’re doing every week on live tv man?”

“stop it stop it stop it!” you screamed at them. you were witnessing this stupid fight and knowing you couldn’t do anything to get to stop was hurting you. so, as you predicted, they kept screaming at each others.

“i ain’t ruining no one’s moment man, it’s just you who can’t accept some people are way better that you anyway” jimmy responded back, making jey laugh.

“so you’re better that me? that’s funny man, so why, if you’re that better than me, why, aren’t you getting booked? uh? cat got your tongue man?” jey sarcastically laughed making jimmy angrier.

you couldn’t stay there any longer.

“fucking stop it!” you screamed once again, tears falling from your eyes “stop fighting like goddamn children! i-i can’t do this anymore, i really can’t” you looked at both at them “all you do is fighting and fighting and i can’t do this anymore…i just want my family back”

jey, sensing your anxiety, tried to take a few steps close to you but you stepped back, not wanting to be close to anyone.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” jimmy apologised, hating to see you cry and hating himself even more, knowing he’s the reason you are crying.

“i don’t care if you are sorry! you always say you guys are sorry and then fight again and again and again and i can’t deal with this shit anymore! i just want my brothers back…i-i…” you were having trouble breathing “i just want this to be over”

“y/n, love, why don’t you sit down a little?” jey suggested when he saw you were struggling to breathe. he knew your anxiety and he knew you struggled with panic attacks and he was hating himself for being the reason you were struggling right now.

“no! no i don’t wanna sit here and hear you fight again! i-i…i don’t wanna…” your head was dizzy and the look jimmy gave jey made them understand each other without sharing a word.

“sit here love…” jey slowly walked you towards the little black leather couch inside his changing room “breath with me y/n…” you did as jey told you to do and you felt all the energy leaving your body.

“you feeling better?” jimmy asked, sitting next to you while jey was knelt in front of your sat position.

“why do you have to keep fighting?” you asked them, your voice breaking a little, now your tears falling down your face again “and don’t say you’re sorry” you warned jimmy.

“we will try to stop okay?” jey smiled at you. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep fighting with his brother forever but at the same time it was hard for him to forgive him so quickly.

“i don’t want a “we will try” jey, i want my brothers back…i want to spend time with you together like we did last year…” you cried harder, your breathing getting worse again “you just don’t understand this…i-i hate seeing you fight every day, i hate seeing you punching yourselves, i fucking hate having to share days with you like you are my divorced parents!”

“hey hey keep breathing slowly sweetheart” jey reminded you.

jimmy and jey both had no idea how this family feud was affecting you. they just discovered it now and they were both hating themselves for hurting you that much.

“you just don’t understand…” you whispered.

“no words can’t express how sorry i am love…” jimmy softly whispered with teary eyes. seeing you having a panic attack was the worst thing he ever witnessed. you were his baby sister who he was meant to protect so why would he hurt you that much?

same thing was for jey.

“i just miss you…” your voice broke a little.

jey cursed himself “i know things between us aren’t the best but our feelings for you will never change. no matter what, you will always be our baby sister and we’ll love you forever…i will try my best to not fight with jimmy okay?” you simply nodded while his soft hand wiped your tears away.

“i promise you we will be better” jimmy went and you nodded again, being happy with their responses.

“now, i’m pretty sure you have work to do so i’ll go back to my hotel room…but, if you’re free tonight can we have a movie marathon like we always did when i was younger?” you asked them, hope sparkling in your eyes.

they couldn’t say not to that.

so they said yes.

they knew they had a lot of work to do, especially when it came to them but, no matter the circumstances, they would always have your back.

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daboyau · 2 days

Text

the potential start to a crossover i’ve been kicking around in my head. Here, have it. @boots-with-the-fur-club

Leo, for all of his bluster and showboating, has always been smart. The kind of smart that’s a little bit scary at times, because he’s so good at hiding it behind big grins and bad puns and silly shenanigans. He’s already calculated the outcome of this fight. It’s obvious in the way he smiles at them, body going lax, expression softening even as he begins to curl into himself more, already anticipating the pain that is coming.

The Krang’s massive metal talon wraps around his leg, engulfing it easily. Mikey sees Leo’s face go pale with the pain, but somehow he still keeps that smile in place, gazing at them like he’s hoping for one final memory to hold tight inside the prison dimension. The portal wavers, sparking gold as the pain of his brother’s resignation to his own torment makes Mikey’s heart clench and ache inside his chest. Raph’s hand tightens even as Leo tries to withdraw. The red of his construct is beginning to waver, but he still holds on. Mikey can hear his teeth grinding with the effort.

The sounds that Leo makes, soft and scared and hurting, as Krang tries to pull him deeper into the prison dimension will haunt Mikey’s nightmares. Blood is pooling around Leo’s leg where those metal claws dig in deep, hanging suspended around them, only disturbed when Krang yanks again.

Leo’s shoulder dislocates, and he swallows down a cry. Raph sobs, and his construct wavers again even as its giant fist tightens its hold enough to bruise Leo’s already battered body. Krang is laughing, the sound like metal curling beneath desperately grasping fingernails. He thinks he’s already won.

“It’s okay,” Leo mouths, eyes tracing their features. Blood has been kicked up, floating like wings behind him. “Just let go.”

The gold sparks again, waves of burning fire up and down his arms, tiny tendrils of mystic energy creeping past his brothers’ hands to sink its way into his shoulders and neck. He sees the blood shine ruby red as it reflects the glow. Mikey grits his teeth. He sees Krang smile, and he feels the burning begin to creep up his cheeks. He wants Krang to burn, too.

“You! Can’t! Have him!” he screams, voice raw and aching. He tastes blood as it bubbles up from his throat, dancing at the back of his tongue. Raph’s hand tightens on his shoulder. Donnie leans a little further into his side.

Leo stares back at them, wide eyed. He’s not smiling anymore.

They push forward, together, in one final desperate reach for Leo. Krang howls as Donnie’s drill nails him in his stupid, chewed bubblegum face. His grip loosens, just enough to pull Leo further towards them. He leaves a trail of blood in his wake.

It no longer reflects the sparks of gold.

Gravity isn’t working anymore.

Mikey’s blood runs cold when he realizes what he’s allowed to happen.

They float together in the nether, Leo clutched tightly between them. His mask tails tickle Mikey’s nose as they float lazily above his head.

“The portal,” he breathes, eyes wide as he pushes himself a little further from their huddle. He doesn’t let go of Leo’s hand as he searches, eyes desperately scanning the dark void that surrounds them for a glimpse of golden light.

Krang is screaming, rage and exhaustion from the long fight the only thing keeping him from simply swatting aside the barrage that Donnie is manifesting to keep him at bay for just a little longer. Donnie’s face is shadowed and his teeth bared, silent rage giving him the strength he needs to hold Krang back despite the exhaustion that Mikey knows they all feel deep down in every torn muscle and broken bone. That won’t last forever, though. Already, he can see the purple of his mask darkening with sweat. His scales are beginning to look washed out. Blood from those sharp, jagged lines that are all Mikey’s faultcutting their way up his right arm has begun to leak slowly into the still air around them. The purple glow is beginning to dim.

“We have to go,” Mikey squeaks, trembling fingers clutching at Raph’s arm. His voice is hoarse, hardly able to push the words past the blood in his throat.

“We need to fight,” Raph snarls, watching Krang howl and slash at Donnie’s creations with a fury that makes Mikey’s breath catch in his throat. He recognizes this rage. He’d seen it reflected on Leo’s face just hours before. “We have to make him pay.”

Mikey shakes his head, wide eyed, frantic. He squeezes harder, silently pleading. Donnie watches them from the corner of his eye. A bead of sweat traces its slow way down his cheek. It doesn’t fall as it reaches his jaw and breaks away, instead floating upwards to join the blood pooling slowly above their heads.

“We can’t!” Mikey rasps, the words hardly audible above the sounds of metal grinding against mystic metal. Raph snarls, and for one horrible second all he can see is pink tendrils and murderous intent instead of his big brother, and Mikey can’t help but flinch back.

“No.” They all startle and watch, wide eyed, as Leo struggle to twist himself enough to almost sit up in Raph’s arms. Mikey whimpers as the motion reveals the extent of the damage Krang has dealt in such a short amount of time. “We need to go. Hide. Heal enough…and then get out of here. Go home.”

His voice is wheezy and weak. Blood leaks from his lips as he speaks, clinging to his teeth and lips like teardrops to lashes. Mikey’s seen enough medical dramas that he’s pretty sure that’s a really bad sign.

Raph’s eyes flicker back towards Krang. Furious. Murderous. But then they shift to look at Donnie’s gritted teeth as he struggles to continue his attack. Towards Mikey’s wild eyed terror and trembling hands. At Leo’s desperate expression, mostly hidden by blood and a bruise swollen face. He hadn’t looked that scared when he was facing a reality where it was just him in the prison dimension alone. Raph’s gaze softens. He nods.

Donnie nods back, one hand thrown out towards Krang, the other still resting on Leo’s bloodied shoulder like he’s afraid that his brother will disappear if he lets go for even an instant. Mikey feels the same way, and if he wasn’t scared of hurting Leo worse, he would tighten his grip on his hand.

“Fireworks show?” Raph asks, meeting Mikey’s eye with a grin that is fighting to be reassuring. He swallows hard, and he reaches deep, searching his core for the final tiny drops of ninpo he has left after creating the portal and holding it open for so long. He smiles back, wobbly and painful as it stretches the open wounds that same ninpo had left on his cheeks.

“Let’s light it up!”

For one glorious minute, the grey of the prison dimension is overtaken by an explosion of color and light, orange and purple and red all dancing together in a display that only has one purpose.

Distraction.

They flee as Krang howls and thrashes, trying to find them through the blinding light and disorienting swirl of color and patterns. Leo’s watching the sky light up with a small smile, eyes glazed and distant. Mikey’s pretty sure he’s seconds away from passing out. He probably has no idea where he even is right now.

Probably all he knows is that he’s curled in Raph’s arms, with Mikey and Donnie each holding onto him tightly. He’s surrounded by their colors, their warmth, the subtle whisper of their depleted ninpo. All he knows right now is that he’s safe.

Mikey intends to make sure he stays that way. He knows that Raph and Donnie feel the same way.

As they slip deeper into the maze of floating debris, Mikey closes his eyes. He focuses on his breathing, trying to feel for the tiny spark inside his soul. He can almost sense it, and he does his best to fan it back to life.

His arms are throbbing. The feeling of congealing blood itches against his skin, and he can taste it in his mouth with every breath he frees into the still air of the prison dimension. The empty ache inside his chest, the fullness inside his soul that he’s come to associate with his ninpo, hurts in a way he’s never known before. Not even Krang had been able to hollow him out like this, even when he’d managed to lock that part of them away.

Still, when he opens his eyes again, they spark with a furious, burning light. He is going to get them out of here. No matter what it takes.

#Rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #they all get to get locked in the prison dimension together #As a treat #and then they’ll end up somewhere else through portal shenanigans. A fandom staple.#Where? Guess. :3 #My writing #Rottmnt shorts

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