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dirtyvulture · 2 days ago

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15 Minutes

Natasha Romanoff x Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 2430

Requested by abyss anon (and other anons): here me out. i've been listening to 15 minutes by sabrina carpenter and the lyrics “i can do a lot with fifteen minutes, only gonna take two to make you finish” is stuck in my head.

what if masc!r with innocent!shy!nat who is completely and utterly inlove with reader but too afraid to make a move? and when she finally does... *wink* but we all know baby natty is going to make up for it all night.

AN: This basically became pure filth with like a sprinkle of plot so...enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

The first time Natasha met you, she knew she was in love with you. Which really sucked for her because you were the type of person who didn’t look at her twice. You were constantly surrounded by people who were prettier, better, and more important than her. Natasha felt so insignificant around you, and whenever she tried to make her presence known, it always ended in a colossal and embarrassing failure.

She had exactly three conversations with you. The first was just an exchange of names, so she didn’t count that. But it was the first time she got to touch your hand and look into your eyes, and she almost physically fell for you right there.

The second conversation was at the dining hall’s salad bar, where the two of you had reached for the tongs to the romaine at the same time. You had insisted she go first, and Natasha had tried to make a joke about lettuce that fell so short it kept her up for three nights.

The third conversation took place on a basketball court, where you were playing a scrimmage with a few friends. Natasha emboldened herself to approach, which she immediately regretted when you passed her the ball and asked if she could sink a shot from the three-point line. She stumbled through a pickup line about if you could show her, but you and your friends had only laughed. Naturally, she had missed, and she went home in shame, promising to never speak to you in front of others again.

She always told herself that if she had 15 minutes alone with you, she could get you to give her a chance. But getting those 15 minutes was an impossible task in itself.

Or so she thought.

She finds you sitting alone in the common room, staring at the television, but you hardly look interested in the James Bond movie playing.

Fifteen.

“Y/N?” Natasha whispers. Your head shifts in her direction, but you don’t say anything to acknowledge her. “Is anyone sitting with you?” You grunt, which Natasha cannot determine as a definitive yes or no. “Can I sit with you?” She holds her breath, surprised by her own confidence but fully expecting a denial.

“Sure,” you say, to her shock.

Natasha rounds the couch. You make no effort to move and she settles on the cushion next to you.

Fourteen.

She isn’t sure what to say next. You seem incredibly absorbed in the movie, and she’s nervous to break your focus.

“Natasha,” you say, still not looking at her. “That’s your name, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a pretty name. For a pretty woman.”

Natasha’s heart thunders in her chest. Did she hear you correctly? “You think I’m pretty?” she asks.

“I think you’re beautiful.” You look her in the eye now, and Natasha has to catch herself before she falls off the couch.

“I…Um…Wow. Thank you. That’s…really nice of you to say,” she stammers.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.”

Thirteen.

Natasha stares at you, trying to read your passive expression. Maybe you were just messing with her, or took a bet from your friends to flirt with her. No one–not even Bruce–wanted her. So why would you?

“You’re especially cute when you’re nervous,” you say.

“Nervous? I’m not–”

You chuckle. “I know the effect I have on you. And most people. But I hardly notice any of them when you’re around me.”

Natasha feels like she’s in a dream. Are you really saying these words to her? And you mean every one of them? She pinches her thigh, but the sting doesn’t do much to clear her head. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” she admits in a rush.

“Is that so?” Your right eyebrow lifts and Natasha squeezes her thighs together subtly. “I never approached you first because…well, I didn’t think you’d be able to handle me.”

Twelve.

Natasha leans forward, resting her hand lightly on your upper thigh. She’s determined to prove you wrong if that’s the only thing she succeeds in tonight. “And what makes you think that?”

Your expression changes to one of surprise. “You’re cute, but way too innocent–” The words die in your throat when her hand slides up to cup the bulge in your sweatpants.

“You were saying?” she says, turning her voice into a huskier tone.

“Natasha,” you grunt, and she can tell you’re fighting to keep your hips pinned to the couch, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I don’t plan on it.” She grips onto you and wonders if the fabric is thin enough for you to feel the heat of your palm.

“Someone can walk in at any moment,” you warn her.

“Good. Then they can see you’ve always been mine the whole time.” She feels you twitch and start to harden. She wonders if she can get you off with her words alone, but quickly decides she’d much rather have you inside her instead.

Eleven.

“I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist,” you comment.

“What do you know about me? Besides my name,” she counters.

“That you’re awful at flirting–oh shit.” Natasha pushes her hand past the waistband of your sweatpants and it closes around your hot and hard flesh. She rubs you up and down, her thumb brushing the underside of your tip with every stroke and she grins when she starts to see your thighs tremble. “You ever done this before?” you gasp, your hips rocking off the couch to push yourself through her hand.

“You tell me, baby.”

You grunt at the term of endearment. “Not quite what I expected from you,” you say.

“In a good or bad way?”

“Hmm, well…” You look down at your crotch, frowning because you can’t see any of the action under your sweatpants. Natasha uses her free hand and tugs them down, and you lift your butt up to slide them to your knees. Your cock bobs out and Natasha subconsciously licks her lips, knowing she is that much closer to having you the way she always dreamed of. “Are you gonna keep staring at it or do something with it?” you ask suddenly.

Ten.

“I don’t want you finishing too early,” Natasha says, right as a bead of pre-cum leaks out of your dick.

“I won’t,” you say, although for once, your voice lacks confidence.

“I bet you can’t last two minutes in me.”

Your eyes narrow at the challenge. “And what if I can?”

“Then I’ll let you take me back to your room and fuck me any way you want.”

You inhale sharply at the filthy thoughts her words inspire.

“But if you can’t…” Natasha squeezes your cock for emphasis, “Then I get take you to my room and fuck you any way I want.”

You snort. “That’s not really a bad deal either way.”

“You’ve hardly seen what I can do,” Natasha warns.

“So show me more.”

Nine.

“Be careful what you wish for.” Natasha leans over and takes the head of your cock in her mouth.

“Goddamn,” you mutter, pumping your hips up into the new heat of her mouth. You had severely misjudged Natasha in her innocence, but you weren’t upset to be wrong. Her tongue flicks against your tip and you’re practically squirming in your seat when she presses down and takes you into her throat.

“Fuck, your mouth feels good,” you pant, your hands coming to the back of Natasha’s head and gently pushing on it to keep her in place. “This is hardly fair,” you whine.

Natasha releases your cock and it slaps against your stomach, glistening with her saliva and your pre-cum. “You want me to stop?” she asks.

“Not really.”

Eight.

“Then be quiet,” she says, and her dominance surprises you. It also makes you even harder, which you didn’t know was possible at this stage anymore. “Besides, we aren’t even at the main event yet.”

“Main event?” You have to bite your lip to distract yourself as her mouth descends on you again. You squeeze the muscles in your thighs to keep them grounded, not wanting to show her how close you are.

“Mhmm,” she mumbles around your cock, and the vibrations have you holding on the couch cushions for dear life. The pounding between your legs heightens, spurred on by the fact that the prettiest girl around has her head in your lap, her mouth bobbing frantically up and down your dick.

Seven.

“You’re cheating,” you whine, but you totally love it as you jog your hips up a few times.

“I’m what?” Natasha draws back fully and the cold air that hits your cock makes it visibly twitch.

“Ugh, fuck,” you mutter. “Never mind, baby. Just put your mouth back and–”

“No,” Natasha says, and you shrink back into the cushions just a little. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut like she said. “I can tell you’re about to cum, and I don’t want you finishing in my mouth.”

“Oh.” Somehow, despite every skill she’s just showed you, you’re surprised she won’t swallow. But you won’t hold it against her. She’s already doing better than most of the girls that sleep with you.

Six.

Natasha leans towards your face, her lips brushing your cheek on her way to your ear. “I want you to finish in my pussy,” she whispers, and the words alone nearly send you over the edge.

“Oh.” You don’t even realize you’ve reached down to grip the base of your cock, squeezing hard to quite literally prevent yourself from finishing all over your sweatpants.

“But…I don’t know if you can last that much longer,” Natasha says, pulling away from you.

“Yes, yes, I can,” you plead. You would do everything in your power to please and if you couldn’t…what was really the worst that could happen?

“Hmm.” Natasha tilts her head, as if seriously contemplating ending things with you right here.

Five.

“You started this,” you protest. “You can’t leave me hanging.” Literally.

“I didn’t expect you to be so whiny,” she says.

“I didn’t expect you to be this mean,” you counter.

Natasha chuckles. “And you’re the one who said I couldn’t handle you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, happy to eat your words if she’ll ride you. Natasha stands up, and for a moment you think she’s going to walk out on you, but she shimmies down her jeans and you drool at the sight of her lacey red panties. You drop your sweatpants to your ankles so you have more room to move as Natasha swings her leg over your waist.

Four.

You can see the damp patch of her arousal and it hardens you further to see she’s just as excited as you are.

“Two minutes,” she says, humping you slowly.

“Easy,” you promise, but you already know you’re going to lose. You reach for her hips, happy that she doesn’t swat you away, and pull her towards yourself until her stomach presses against your cock.

At first, you had been genuinely concerned that someone would walk in on the two of you, but now you couldn’t care less. You were about to get with the Natasha Romanoff, someone your friends had told you would be untouchable.

Your hands wrap around to her butt and squeeze teasingly. “I’m ready for you,” you remind her, as if she forgot what she was supposed to be doing.

Three.

“I can see that.” She reaches down to grab your cock and drags it along the wet patch of her panties. You groan and dig your fingers harder into her butt. She was far more of a tease than you had ever imagined.

“Come on, baby,” you beg as your cock rubs against the smooth fabric of her panties.

Natasha pulls her panties to the side to reveal her glistening center. Your eyes widen and your hips jerk up to brush through her wetness. She puts one hand on her shoulder to steady herself and uses the other to finger herself. The slick noises she makes are downright sinful and you’re practically vibrating with excitement.

“Let me,” you say, eager to get any part of you inside her and trying to replace her fingers with your own.

“I think I’m ready,” she says, lifting herself up high enough to position the head of your cock with her opening.

Two.

Both of you inhale sharply at the first contact. You’re certain you’ve left your marks on Natasha’s butt as she slowly sinks down, taking your entire length in her molten heat.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp as you feel yourself twitching inside of her. Natasha rests on your thighs and rocks back and forth. A moan rips out of your throat and your head falls back on the couch. The tightness surrounding your cock is too much.

“Don’t let me down,” Natasha teases, raising a few inches and falling back down again. Her hand slips around your throat possessively, but even that isn’t enough to bring you back from the brink.

Your bodies move together in a calm rhythm that does not match the emotions racing inside of you. While part of you wants to jackhammer into her like an animal, part of you also wants this feeling to last as long as possible.

Which, to be perfectly honest, wasn’t going to be more than another minute.

“Do I feel good?” Natasha whispers, threading her fingers in your hair and pulling your head back so you have to look her in the eye as she fucks you.

“You feel perfect,” you grunt, your lower body starting to shake, but you give up trying to fight it off.

One.

“You’re lasting longer than I thought,” she hums, clenching around you with the tightness of a vice and you arch your chest into her, slipping your hands under her shirt to clutch at the warmth of her skin.

“Not for much longer,” you admit, feeling a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead. The band in your stomach finally snaps and your thighs lock in place as you spill your seed into her, but hardly feeling relieved. Natasha circles her hips to coax out every last drop, leaving you shaking and begging her to stop.

“I think I won our bet,” she says, finally climbing off your cock.

“Whatever,” you mutter, your cheeks tinged red.

“I want to claim my prize now,” she continues, pulling her jeans back on and offering you her hand.

You don’t protest and go to follow her back to her room.

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AN: Thanks for ideas, anons! Hope you liked it. :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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smutoperator · 22 hours ago

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My Gamer Wife

Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader

Sequel to King of Oshiri

Tags: A2M, anal creampie, (lots of) anal, asshole fingering, birthday, couch sex, cum on glasses, dildo, full nelson, gamer girl, gape, hotwife, joysticks (literally and figuratively), livestream, losing a bet, pile driver, sex on camera, (lots of) squirting, video games

Word count: 5779

In many ways, Sakura is the perfect wife. She gives you all the attention you need, invites her friends to have fun with you, and always does everything she can to satisfy you.

Except when it comes to those damn video games.

"Happy birthday, baby girl," you said to Sakura, but she ignored you. Once she put on those headphones and started playing games, it was over; she would not listen to anyone in her vicinity. Sakura was truly addicted to gaming, more than she was to you.

Sakura began her birthday livestream, saluting the massive audience she had earned over the course of her career and that now followed her gamer girl ventures. You looked at her, yet she was more worried about beating her high score in Overwatch than anything about you until she finally decided to switch that.

"Hubby, wanna play some games with me?" Sakura asked you. "Sure," you answered her, even though her obsession with gaming many times irritated you. You grabbed another joystick, even though the gap between your and her gaming skills was so massive all that was going to happen was her humiliating you in front of a huge online crowd.

"Yes," Sakura cheered as she easily defeated you. "Come on," you said, getting angry as your wife destroyed you. "Don't get angry, hubby; you just have to try harder," Sakura told you. "What are we even playing for? We should be celebrating your birthday, just you and I, none of that gaming bullshit," you told her.

"So you need an incentive, huh?" Sakura said. "My hubby really doesn't know how to play games; he needs an incentive," she continued, addressing the audience. "Guys, I'll be back soon; maybe he'll have an extra incentive once I return," she continued as she exited the frame. You looked at the messages in the livestream, all wanting you to get out and begging for Sakura to come back.

Sakura indeed came back, wearing a pair of glasses, a slim top, and gym shorts that made her look extremely hot while barely covering her bottom. "So, guys, I decided to have a bet with my hubby," Sakura said. "If I win, I get to fuck his ass, but if he wins, he gets to fuck my ass," Sakura said, shaking her cheeky butt to the camera. "I guess that's a bet I can accept," you tell your wife.

You and Sakura play a head-to-head match, her shaking her ass in front of you as a distraction. "You're obstructing my view," you tell her. "Am I?" Sakura asks as she delivers you a killer blow. "Are they crazy?" one comment asks. But you stay committed, taking Sakura's ass out of your sight.

But Sakura doesn't seem to get the memo, sitting on your lap to distract you while you two keep playing. "Come on, Kkura, can you fucking behave? There are lots of people watching; if you don't, I'm gonna shut this stream down and fuck your ass right now," you tell her. "That's not the deal we signed, hubby," she answers you.

But you manage to prevail even amidst Sakura's distractions, defeating her in a gaming battle for like the first time in ages. "Looks like my incentive paid off; he always loses to me, but as soon as my ass was on the line, he played like never before," Sakura says. "She lost on purpose," one comment says, unmasking Sakura's little facade.

"Ok, I won now. I think you should end this stream and fuck me. Your fans are probably finding it weird that you're talking about sex in the middle of playing those video games," you tell Sakura. "Not so fast, hubby, you won the bet, but today is my birthday, so I'm the one who dictates how you fuck me in the ass," Sakura answers.

"And how are we gonna do that?" you ask Sakura. "In front of all this audience, I want them to see how wild we are together," Sakura says. "Is she really gonna fuck him live on camera?" one comment asks, still in disbelief.

Sakura grabs the joystick and starts grinding on your lap, hitting higher scores the faster she moves. "Seems like she loves to play when horny," a comment says as Sakura keeps moving her hips, moaning softly as you grab her waist while she plays; keep the things going for a while. "Pull my shorts down," she tells you as you oblige, leaving Sakura wearing just a thong at the bottom of her body, showcasing her not so long but still beautiful legs.

Sakura hides the bottom of both your bodies, bringing a blanket that was on the side of the couch as you pull your pants down. She moans and makes moves that look like she's bouncing on your cock but lets the audience guess whether it's true or not. "Is she riding his dick?" one comment asks as Sakura moans.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh," Sakura continues to softly moan and bounce; you grab her ass as she keeps performing for the cameras, moving your hips to thrust upward into her pussy. "FUCK," Sakura moans, almost dropping the act as you hit deeper in her pussy but staying composed and scoring new highs at the game.

Sakura removes the blanket, showing your cock was inside her pussy this whole time. "Ahhhh, ahhhh, fuck me, fuck me, hubby, oh my god," she moans as she rides your cock in front of the online audience for a bit, you spanking her ass shortly after to signal you're done.

Sakura gets on her knees and sucks your cock. "Time for some live blowjob," she tells the audience, jerking and sucking your cock off like a truly professional slut, making loud noises doing so. "Oh my fucking god," you say as she deepthroats your dick and spits all over it.

You slap your cock in Sakura's face, her making crazy expressions for the audience watching while sucking your cock. "You're such a loud bitch," you tell her as you grab her hair and fuck her face, putting your shaft on the side of her cheeks while she dives to suck your balls.

"Hubby, sit down; I want to see you doing a challenge," Sakura says. "What kind of challenge?" you ask her. "Here, grab the joystick while I suck your big joystick. Let's see how well you can do with your wife blowing you off in front of a crowd," she says.

"I'm so wet right now, so turned on," Sakura says as she pulls her thong to the side and fingers her pussy before diving down to suck your cock. "Oh my God. You're fucking insane for doing this, you know?" you ask her. "Yes, I'm insane for that big nice cock," Sakura says.

"I can't wait to have it inside me again, especially in my ass," Sakura says as she bobs her head harder on your cock. "You're getting quite distracted, not paying much attention to that game right now, are you?" Sakura asks, ramping up the intensity of her blowjob.

"You're really losing your concentration, hubby, aren't you?" Sakura asks. "You really have the best cock ever," she continues, moving her head even faster on it. "I'm gonna get this cock nice and wet to fuck me; it's going to slide so easy in my pussy, baby," she says, moving like crazy on it, deepthroating your shaft countless times as your concentration goes further away.

Sakura can no longer resist her urge, sitting her pussy on your cock and blocking your view. "Oh, I love using that cock so much," she says, rubbing her pussy as she goes back to riding it. "Oh right there, that's what I fucking want, your big fucking cock inside me, hubby, yesss, make me cum, let me use it," Sakura says.

"I'm so horny now, oh fuck," Sakura moans as she picks up the speed riding your cock. "I think you're gonna have to choose, hubby, this video game or my pussy, because I'm gonna keep riding you, yeah, yeah, yeah," she says. "Oh fuck," Sakura moans as she spins on your cock. "OH YES, OH YES, OH YES," she loudly moans, letting her audience know how good she's feeling.

"You're doing good in that game; it turns out my pussy is a great incentive for you, hubby," Sakura says. "I guess I need to bounce harder," she continues, doing just what she vowed to do.

"Give me this," Sakura says as she picks the game controller from your hands and delivers another wonderful display of gaming. "She might be the best gamer in the world when she gets a big joystick up in her pussy," someone in the chat comments.

"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH SHIT," Sakura screams as she squirts hard while reaching another high score. "Damn, she's got a whole fountain in her pussy," someone comments. She lies on the couch and lets you eat her pussy while she keeps playing. "Oh yes, hubby, taste those juices; I love when you do that to me," she says.

Sakura squirts all over your face. "Oh yeah, don't stop, baby, lick that pussy," she begs as you dive all over it, paying special attention to her meaty clit. "Oh my god, yes, that's perfect; you're doing so good, hubby," Sakura says as she almost drops the controller. "Oh fuck, oh yeah, yeah, I'm gonna keep playing; push me to the next level," Sakura begs.

Sakura sits on your face, performing a 69 while still playing. You put a couple of fingers in her asshole, prompting her to immediately react. "AHHHH," she screams. "Calm down baby, this prize is for later," she then says, before going back to bob her head on your cock.

"You like that, don't you?" you ask Sakura as you put your middle finger deeper in her anus. "AHHHHH," Sakura moans. "That's all I need to know," you tell her as you keep eating her pussy and fingering her butthole, Sakura answering by choking hard on your cock while playing with the controller. "Oh shit," you groan. "Oh my god," she groans.

"Take those shorts off," you tell Sakura as you increase the pace of the finger-fucking in her asshole. She obliges, leaving you just with your t-shirt while she stays, sucking your cock and massaging your balls. "Fuck, baby," Sakura says as she bounces her ass in your face and her head on your cock, you tonguing her pussy hard.

Sakura rides you in reverse now, you now placing your thumb in her asshole while she bounces on your cock. "Oh, I'm so wet, yes, yes, that's so good; put that finger up in my ass," she begs. "Oh, that ass feels so fucking tight," you tell her as she continues to ride, choking her and slapping her face. "My wife is such a fucking whore," you say to her.

Sakuke claps her cheeks against your hips. "OH, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD BOUNCING ON THAT COCK," she screams. "PUT YOUR FINGER IN THERE," she begs as you match her ride by spanking and finger-fucking her ass. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans, spreading her legs and letting you thrust up. "FUCK HUBBY, FUCK THAT PUSSY, AHHH," she continues to scream.

"I love bouncing up and down on that cock," Sakura says as she moves faster than ever, you grabbing and spanking her butt. "YES, BABY, FUCK," she screams again before pulling out of your cock and sucking it a bit.

Sakura pulls a lever and unfolds the couch, lying her body in a vertical position with her ass up. You spank your wife's beautiful butt as she keeps playing the game, spreading her cheeks and massaging them as you tongue her pink asshole and spit on it.

"Ohhh baby, you can't distract me," Sakura says as you focus on eating her ass. She moans loudly as you tongue her fuckholes. "That's why I lost that bet on purpose," she tells you as she shakes her ass in your face. "I could tell," you answer her.

"You love this ass, don't you, honey?" Sakura says as she bounces it in your face, shaking it up and down and left and right. "Get in there with your tongue," she says, putting her ass up. "Honey, I'm so fucking horny," she says.

You tease Sakura, rubbing your shaft between her cheeks, much to her enjoyment. "Oh yes, rub that cock in my cheeks," Sakura says. Soon, you poke your cock in both her entrances, taking it back in her pussy. "Oh yeah, oh fuck," Sakura moans as you bang her in the prone position, her asshole winking for you. "OH SHIT, IT FEELS SO GOOD IN MY PUSSY," she moans as you thrust into it, her moving her ass to meet it.

"Fuck that pussy, hubby, AHHHHH," Sakura begs as you start clapping her cheeks. You kiss her as she smiles. "Your dick is so good inside me," she says as you tease her, playing with it by putting it in and out of her pussy before mounting on top of her.

Sakura puts herself in a fetal position on the couch, spreading her legs for you to enter her pussy in missionary position. "Oh my Gosh, baby, your cock is so big in my pussy," Sakura moans as you fuck her. She closes her eyes and lets you give her the pounding.

"Oh, hubby. I can feel your cock ready to cum at any moment," she says. "Please, baby, cum in my face," Sakura begs. "You want my cum, you fucking gamer whore? Then beg for it harder," you tell her. "Please, please, hubby, paint those glasses white," Sakura says, driving you crazy as you quickly pull your cock out of her and unleash a giant load in her face, her kissing your cock.

"We'll be back for act two soon, guys," Sakura says to the audience as she heads towards the bathroom, taking a selca and sending it for the chat before cleaning her glasses. After a while, you follow her, taking her from behind and putting a finger up her anus. "AHHHHH," Sakura suddenly screams. "My wife is so slutty; she really made me have sex in front of an online crowd on her birthday," you tell her.

"And by the looks of it, you are ready to fuck my ass in front of that crowd, hubby," Sakura says as you massage her butthole. "OH MY GOD, FUCK," she screams as your fingers run all over her asshole. "Oh yes, hubby, right there, prepare that asshole for your big cock," she says.

Sakura returns to the living room, and you are playing video games like nothing happened. "You want to fuck my ass now, hubby?" she asks. "Of course, you fucking bitch, you promised me," you answer her. "You're gonna get it, but only after I tell you," she says.

"First, you're gonna let me play some games with that joystick, Sakura said. "Sit on the floor for me," she ordered as you obliged. Sakura then started massaging your cock with her pair of pink socks, moving her feet up and down your long shaft while she played her game. "I'm working two joysticks at the same time, boys," she told her livestream audience.

"You like that, hubby?" Sakura asked as she continued to perform the footjob, quickly getting your cock back hard. "Yes, I love that," you answered. Sakura made things spicier, pushing her top up once again and showing her tits out to the audience before taking her panties completely off, getting herself fully naked for the first time.

As you pull Sakura's panties down, you bend her over in one of the couch's arms. "I know you're eager for it, hubby, taking that cake on your wife's birthday," Sakura says. Both of you get completely naked. You give her asshole a little licking and spitting before shoving your cock in it. "AHHHH, HOLY SHIT," she moans. "You asked for that big dick in your ass; don't back down now," you tell Sakura, tying her arms behind her back.

"OH MY GOD, FUCK," Sakura screams as you drill her asshole. "You like that, bitch? Getting fucked in the ass while broadcasting it live to your gamer followers?" you ask her. "YES, YES, YES, YES," she moans, grinding her teeth as you attack her ass hard.

"AHHHHHH," Sakura screams as you spank her butt. "Oh my God, you're so fucking deep in my ass, stretching me so fucking good," Sakura moans. "Deeper, deeper," she keeps begging. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YES," she then starts screaming once you hit it hard.

"Such a good whore," you tell Sakura as you spank her ass one more time. She laughs as you finger her wet cunt while pounding her asshole. She looks at you with naughty eyes, getting close to you to give you kisses. "GIVE ME THAT FUCKING DICK, FUCK YES, OH MY FUCKING GOD," she moans as you drill her asshole harder than ever.

"RIGHT THERE, BABY," Sakura tells you. "Cum for me," you command as Sakura's butthole clenches around your cock, signaling her anal orgasm is close. "AHHHHH," Sakura squirts all over the couch as you make her cum. "Fuck, that was so good," she says.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sakura moans loudly as you get deep in her ass; more spankings follow. At this point, she's forgotten about those videogames, barely able to reach to grab the controller. "OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP," she screams as the anal pounding keeps going.

You put Sakura in a spooning position on the couch, ready for another round of anal drilling. "Right there, nice and slow," your wife whispers as you wrap your arms around her, teasing her asshole by going in and out of it. You lift her leg, taking it very slow as you massage her pussy. "Yeah," Sakura moans.

"OH MY GOD YOUR COCK IS AMAZING," Sakura screams as you pick up the pace. You admire the gape in her asshole as you put a pair of fingers in her cunt, Sakura reacting with out-of-breath moans as you resume drilling her butt. Your balls clap hard against her ass. "OH FUCK BABY, THAT FEELS GOOD," she moans, kissing you.

"My ass is all yours, hubby; stretch it out, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Sakura says as she gets in a fetal position sideways. "I love that so much," she says. "Let me taste my ass," Sakura begs, you pausing the fucking a bit to let her bob her head on your cock again, taking advantage of it and thrusting upwards, which only makes Sakura go crazier and dive for your balls.

"Put it back, baby," Sakura says as she goes back to the spooning position. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, DON'T STOP," Sakura says as she enjoys the hard pounding you give her on the couch. "What do you like more, those stupid video games or my cock deep in your ass?" you ask her. "Your cock in my fucking ass, always, hubby," she answers.

"Oh, it feels so deep," Sakura says as she goes back into a bouncing position, massaging her pussy as she sits on your cock. "Oh baby, I love this so much; your cock feels so good in my asshole," she says. "Right there, baby, right in that fucking hole," she continues to beg.

"Oh baby, what are you doing?" Sakura asks as you wrap your hands between her legs. Quickly she realizes what it is as you lift her legs up in the air, ready to pound her ass in a very submissive full nelson. "FUCK BABY, AHHHHHH," Sakura moans as you hammer her ass like crazy. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH BABY," she screams as her ass gets drilled at a very hard speed.

"Yes, baby, stretch me open like that, fuck yeah," Sakura smiles as she gets pounded into submission, fingering her cunt despite being wrapped in a full nelson. "Oh, it feels so deep; I love when you fuck me that way," she tells you as you free her, letting Sakura taste her ass from your cock once more while fucking her face as she tries to deepthroat you.

"Get them," Sakura says as you grab the video game controller back, she watching you get great scores while she jerks your cock off. "Looks like you got some great motivation," she says as she keeps sucking your cock. "Oh my God," you groan, Sakura grabbing the controller and playing the game while she savors your cock.

You put Sakura back in a fetal position on the couch, this time standing up as you get ready to fuck her more. You give a couple of thrusts in her pussy to tease her. "Oh, it's so good," she says before switching to her asshole. She carves her fingers deep in her cunt as you fuck her. "Just like that, baby, pound that ass," she begs as you now play with her cunt, fisting your whole hand inside it while you destroy your wife's ass.

You place your thumb in Sakura's mouth for her to taste her pussy while also playing with her tits as the anal pounding continues. She closes her eyes and spreads her butthole with her hands, showing you the ever-growing gape you deliver to it. "Keep it open for my cock," you tell her.

"I can spend all day getting that ass fucked in front of my fans," Sakura says. "Like the slut you are," you tell her, choking her neck as you fuck her ass faster. "OH MY GOD," Sakura screams, the gape in her asshole growing larger and larger. "Keep fucking my ass like that, hubby, please," Sakura begs as you play with her whole body.

"Give it to me, baby; don't stop fucking that ass," Sakura begs, grabbing the controller and scoring another big kill just as you destroy her ass. "OH SHIT," she screams. "You want fucking more, you gaming whore?" you ask Sakura. "Of course I do," she says.

You put Sakura in a mating press position, pounding her as you firmly stomp your left foot in the couch. "Oh, that's hot," Sakura says. "Damn, they are doing some hentai shit," someone comments as the camera captures the perfect angle of your cock penetrating Sakura's butthole at a straight angle, hard and deep.

"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, DESTROY MY ASS," she begs, you two sharing kisses while her asshole gets obliterated. You attack it harder than ever, Sakura losing her breath as your cock hits the depths of her asshole while you kiss her. "I find it so hot when you fuck my ass like that," she says as you groan with her tight butthole squeezing your cock out.

"Show your fans how large your gaping asshole is," you tell Sakura, putting her pink anus in close sight of the stream camera and playing by putting your cock in and out of it. "OH YES, BABY, FUCK, THAT'S SO HOT," Sakura moans. "She should do this more often," someone comments.

You put Sakura on the top of the couch, pushing the camera in your direction. "Oh yeah, keep fucking me, hubby," Sakura begs as your cock takes multiple deep stabbings in her asshole. Her body jiggles as Sakura tries to keep her balance while spreading her legs wide open. "Yes, pound my fucking ass, baby. FUCKKKK, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT," Sakura screams as you quickly change the pace.

You make Sakura deepthroat your cock, making it wetter for another session. "Yes, put it back, right in my ass, fuck," Sakura begs and gets it, you alternating between hard and deep thrusts. "You're so good, hubby, fucking your wife right in the ass on her birthday, yesss," Sakura says.

"Oh yes, baby, touch my pussy just like that," Sakura begs as you penetrate her ass and pussy at the same time, your cock and your fingers in perfect sync. "Damn, that's so hot," someone comments as the livestream audience keeps growing the harder you fuck your hot, needy gamer wife. "OHHH FUCK, DON'T FUCKING STOP," Sakura begs, both your cock and fingers deeper and deeper in her holes.

"I'M GONNA CUM AHHHH," Sakura screams as she unleashes a massive gush of squirt into the camera. "Damn, she's getting it all wet," a comment says. "Squirt for me, baby, show how much of a whore you are for this cock, entertain your audience," you tell Sakura, making her squirt a few more times. "Damn, she's got a whole geyser in her pussy," someone says.

"Let's get to the floor," you command to Sakura, who quickly gets upside down with her legs over her head, spreading her butthole for you to enter again. Quickly you penetrate Sakura in a pile driver position, Sakura with her head on the floor as you keep stretching out her asshole. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE," she begs as she fingers her cunt for the audience.

"Fucking take that ass, baby," Sakura says to you as she zooms the camera into the action, capturing your cock going in and out of her butt perfectly. "Look how thirsty her pussy is," someone comments as you put your finger back in her clit and she suddenly starts to squirt. "FUCK, IT FEELS SO GOOD," she moans to the camera, her legs spread wide open almost as if she were like her groupmate Kazuha as you fucked her balls deep.

"Keep fucking that ass until you fucking cum," Sakura begs as your cock bulges under her belly, her tits bouncing as your thrusts get harder and harder. You stretch your body all over the couch, now occupying the entire camera frame as

Sakura gets pounded hard, her head smashing to the floor with your thrusts.

You take a little break and bring a real-sized dildo toy, shoving it into Sakura's ass and showcasing her massive gape to the camera. "Yes, hubby, show them my pink butthole," Sakura begs as you zoom deep into her anal cavity. After a couple of thrusts with the dildo, you feed it in her mouth for Sakura to taste her ass while you fuck it, muffling her moans in the toy while the real thing destroys her pink anus.

"I want to taste my ass from your cock too," Sakura says, and you promptly oblige, shoving your cock in her mouth while she plugs the dildo back in her butt. "It's going really deep; it looks like I stretched it out quite well already," you say to her as you fuck her face before getting back up and thrusting the dildo in her ass.

"Which one do you prefer, my cock or the dildo?" you ask Sakura. "I like any of them, as long as they are fucking my ass," she answers you. "Then let me do it more," you tell her, replacing the dildo with your cock while Sakura spreads her ass.

"OH YEAH, JUST LIKE THAT, RUB MY PUSSY, HUBBY, AHHHH," Sakura moans as she puts her legs completely over her head. "I didn't know you were flexible like that," you tell her. "Let's say my friend Zuha taught me a thing or two about that," she answers.

"GIVE IT TO ME, FUCK ME BABY," Sakura begs as she's completely pinned to the floor. You turn around, smashing her as viewers get to see your ass while you fuck Sakura's, her legs now over her head as she moans like the good Japanese whore she is. "You like your hubby's big cock deep in your fucking slutty ass?" you ask her. "Hell yeah," she answers.

"HMMMM, AHHHH, OH FUCK," Sakura moans as she fingers her cunt, giving the viewers another wonderful squirt show. "Look at her pussy exploding," someone says as she keeps squirting. "YES, HUBBY, POUND MY FUCKING ASS, AHHHH FUCK," she screams as another gush of juices hits the camera, you toying with her asshole, going in and out of it.

Sakura puts a pair of fingers in her asshole and stretches it out. "Keep it open," you tell her. "Yes, hubby, take it; you won the bet; you can fuck that ass all day if you like," she begs as the gape in her asshole only grows larger and larger.

"I sure aren't done with it," you tell Sakura, grabbing a pillow and lying on the floor. "Sit on that dick and show your audience how much of a whore you are for it," you command to her as Sakura quickly impales her already stretched-out ass on your cock.

Sakura moves up and down, showing her beautiful oshiri to the audience as she bounces on your cock. You give her no rest, pumping it from down low. "OH YES, FUCK ME LIKE THAT," Sakura begs as you thrust like crazy, giving her no second to breathe, grabbing and spreading her ass.

"JUST FUCKING USE MY ASS, HUBBY, OH MY FUCKING GOD, PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME, PLEASE MAKE ME CUM," Sakura begs as you drill her ass like a madman. "Damn, he's really wrecking her," someone comments. "SHIT," Sakura screams as you spank her butt. Tying her arms behind her back, she tries to react and bounce on your cock, but you keep relentlessly attacking her ass, grabbing her body in your direction and using her like a fucktoy.

"Come on, you fucking slut, you said you wanted this," you tell Sakura, giving her another hard spanking. "He's turning her cheeks really red," someone says. Sakura obliges, bouncing as hard as she can on your cock, using your thighs as a support as she rides. "OH FUCK, GOSH," she then screams as you keep pumping, reaching to grope her tits while doing so.

You and Sakura keep dueling with each other, but you ultimately come out on top despite being on the bottom. "HOLY SHIT," she moans again as your hands are all over her tits and your big cock is all over her butthole. "I'm so blessed to have a slutty wife like you, Kkura," you tell her as Sakura just turns into your free-use anal toy, your cock hitting her ass deeper than ever.

"YES, FUCKING SPANK ME, HUBBY, AHHHH," Sakura begs as you print the palm of her hands all over her butt. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sakura screams, your thrusts trying to make her lose her balance. "Damn, he's fucking the shit out of her," someone comments.

"Smile for the camera," you tell Sakura, turning her body around and showing it to her fans as you fuck her ass. She grinds her teeth as her perky nipples bounce. "SHIT," she curses again, your thrusts being so hard she's almost levitating, her fingering her pussy. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, YES, YES, YES," she screams as her cheeks get clapped.

"Just fucking use my ass," Sakura begs, putting both fingers in her cunt, ready to squirt again as you pound her butt into oblivion. You reach from behind and start finger-fucking her cunt. "PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME, PLEASE MAKE ME CUM, AHHHH," Sakura begs, you spanking her perky tits as she starts to close her legs, rolling her eyes and shooting another geyser of squirt into the camera.

"AHHHH I'M CUMMING," Sakura announces as her pussy turns into a juicy fountain one more time. You grab her neck as she squirts, Sakura bouncing on your cock as she keeps emptying all the juices on her pussy, grinding hard and showing how much of a whore she is.

Sakura sits back in the couch as you cuddle her with kisses, never keeping your hands out of her throbbing, squirting pussy, jerking your cock off in anticipation for one more round. "Keep stretching that ass; don't fucking stop, yes, yes," she begs for you as you thrust into her on the couch, groping her tits. "PLEASE, PLEASE, DON'T STOP, FUCK," Sakura continues to beg, you clapping her clit while you clap her cheeks.

"Keep going, nice and deep," Sakura says as you grab the camera to show her reactions while you fuck her ass. "Look at her tits bouncing; she is begging for that cock," you tell the audience. "Just keep using me, yes," Sakura says, losing her breath after near an hour of fucking on camera, you hitting her face and choking her neck. "I'm gonna give this fucking slut the proper treatment she deserves for you to watch," you tell me as the livestream keeps getting record numbers.

"YES, YES, FUCK, FUCK, POUND MY FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Sakura turns into a screaming mess. You pause a bit to massage her cunt. "Squirt for them," you tell her. "AHHHHH," Sakura screams as you make her cum, going back into her pussy as you choke her.

"Use that asshole, make it all yours, hubby; just use it to make yourself cum," Sakura begs as she fingers her pussy. "I'm your fucking slut, hubby," she says. "Are you?" you ask her as you spank Sakura's face. "Yes, baby, give it to me; use my hot body for your pleasure," she continues as she smiles at you.

"Tell me, Kkura, where do you want my cum?" you ask her. "Deep in my fucking ass, please, please, fill me up, cum for me," she tells you as you continue to pound. It's been over an hour, and you're ready to bust inside your wife's loose butthole at any second.

"Oh fuck," you groan as your seeds start flowing out of your cock and painting Sakura's pink anal walls white; she smiles as she spreads her ass, letting your cum ooze out into the floor, spreading a good gape for her fans. "This is my birthday gift for my fans," she says.

"Sakura farts out your cum and licks it from the floor. "Let me taste your cum," she says, taking every single drop and making bubbles with it. "So yummy," she says as she swallows and then turns the camera off. "That's a good girl," you tell her just as the stream comes to an end.

"Fuck, that was so good; I had a lot of fun with this joystick," Sakura says. You spank her ass. "Fucking slut, you planned all of this shit," you tell her. "Of course I did; I love my hubby," she tells you. "We should do this again next year," you finish.

"For sure, and next time I'll bring some special guests to play video games with you," Sakura says.

"I can't wait."

Happy Sakura day to everybody. For it, I decided to do a sequel to what I consider to be my breakthrough fic, adding elements of another big fic of mine (Yuna's "Livestream") into the story, as Sakura gets to have an amazing hour of sex on camera with her ass-obsessed husband.

#sakura smut #le sserafim smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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moki-dokie · 11 hours ago

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I applaud max for keeping this tradition alive, which i can only imagine dates back to pre-historic times, since i can't imagine any form of humanity where tweens aren't being little hellions to adults in various hilarious ways.

for me? we had this too. we had our own max. i feel like every class has at least one. the charisma is just too strong with them that no matter what, you wind up following their silly antics. especially when it's harmless.

our max was - we'll call him jeremy. this was also, coincidentally, 7th grade. maybe there's just something about 7th graders specifically. anyway. randomly one day in class - i can't remember if it was math or history tbh - jeremy just decided to meow every time the teacher's back was turned. and every time the teacher would ask about it, jeremy, quite seriously, would say "i think there's a cat in the ceiling" while looking up rather concerned. obviously the teacher wasn't buying it, but what can you do. fast forward a few weeks and suddenly half the class is in on it. nobody has been asked to do it. it's evolved from cat in the ceiling to cat in the walls to cat trapped underneath the floors, somehow. every time someone meows, the class begins SO worriedly looking for the source. teacher is annoyed and a little baffled. fast forward again a few months. the way our classrooms were set up in this school were "pods" which was like a semi-circle of 5 rooms that were all linked together. Mostly separated but there was a doorless entrance between each one so teachers could easily go between rooms for whatever they needed. this also meant that, sometimes, if one of the classes were being particularly loud you could hear them with ease. Or, if you happened to be sitting very near that entryway, you just had to speak up a little and they'd hear you next door. jeremy happened to have a class nextdoor to history/math teacher as well. he began meowing from the next room. and SOMEHOW, we all knew he wasn't fucking with THIS room's teacher (english, if I recall), it was specifically to fuck with the other guy. it's like a fucking hivemind, i swear. because sure enough, we started hearing students in the next room do the usual "the cat is in the ceiling!!" bit, while those of us in english were silent as could be. Of course that english teacher had a brow raised at us as well, but because we had no reaction to it she didn't really seem to think much of it. again, we just sort of. knew what to do as one unit. meows were coming from english and from math/history even when jeremy was in neither room. we carried the bit on all day long, every single day. (admittedly, english teacher was getting pretty fed up with it, so kids had to be pretty sneaky.) well eventually we kinda... broke him. LOL in retrospect i realize it was rather shitty of us to continue doing it when he'd asked so many times to stop but i mean, that's tweens for you. especially tweens of the early 00s. we weren't quite the nightmare goblin children of the decades previous, but we were far from being as enlightened as today's youth is. poor guy had a full on tantrum at the class, screaming and crying (with frustration, as one does) to the point the whole damn pod could hear him, and every teacher came out to go check on him. (in his defense, this was his first year teaching. i don't think he was quite prepared for the weird psychological warfare tweens can wage.)

we had a very serious talking to from both the principal and counselor the next day to cut the shit out or else they'd start doing sweeping punishments for every single student in class since no one would fess up (and, realistically, since it was a group effort lol). so for a little while, the meowing ceased and everything went back to normal. but near the end of the school year, like the last couple of weeks, jeremy started it again, and so did everyone else LOL luckily by then the teach could laugh it off along with the rest of us, realizing kids are gonna be kids and are gonna be annoying and dumb.

but it was a very odd thing to have pulled off with 0 communication. and as far as i know, nobody ever talked about it much outside of "yeah so this happened in class today". jeremy was just cult-leadery enough we were able to take his lead and run with it.

i think 7th graders have special powers.

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kazumist · 2 days ago

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no idea what the hell your relationship with him is in this but i thought that the idea of caleb randomly proposing to you with some leftover spaghetti sauce by the corner of his lip on a random thursday would be funny.

you and caleb have this weird thing where you’d pretend to be a couple whenever there’s a couple discount going on.

it doesn’t matter where it is. be it some lowkey cafe, a good restaurant, or even a department store—you’ll be calling up caleb to join you for the discount. and right now, there is a couple discount going on in a new cafe that you wanted to visit.

they were offering fifty percent off as long as you’re with your boyfriend or girlfriend! why wouldn’t you take up on that offer? you had to drag caleb to it.

“why are we here again, pips?” caleb asks as you pull him to the cafe. “because there is a couple discount going on where everything is fifty percent off as long as they’re with their partner!” you answer him, not looking back. “and you chose me because...?” he trails off. you stop in your tracks.

“uh.. because why not? don’t act like this is anything new to you, caleb.”

“are you sure it isn’t because you couldn’t ask anyone else?” you gave him a playful glare in return. “do you want me to ask someone else then?” you ask him back. caleb seems to have shut up at that.

reaching the cafe, you two found yourselves a seat. you timed your arrival at the place perfectly, choosing a slow hour to enjoy their discount offer. “may i take your order?” the waitress asks as she approaches your table. before your order could leave your lips, caleb beats you to it.

“one strawberry cheesecake for the lady and i'll have... a latte will do.”

“well, today is your lucky day, sir! we just have a 50% discount for couples who order here today.”

“really now? how lucky of us indeed.” caleb steals a glance at you. it was quick. a teasing glint in his eyes. unnoticeable to the waitress. but you saw it as soon as he shifted his gaze back at the waitress until she left your table to send your orders to the counter.

“how did you know that i wanted to try their strawberry shortcake?” you asked him. “i saw you staring at it a little longer compared to others and took a wild guess. i got it right, didn’t i?”

“always so observant.”

“only for you, pipsqueak.”

the next time you two went out for another couples discount going around, you were stunned.

caleb was the one who invited you to eat out today. and this time it was in a restaurant. as the two of you were enjoying your meal in peace, caleb suddenly got on one knee with a paper ring hidden in his palm and started spewing the most nonsensical wedding proposal monologue you ever heard.

“fun fact: i have always loved you. having the privilege to stand by your side as we grew up together was the biggest blessing that i could ever receive in my life. and i don’t think that being just your boyfriend isn’t gonna be enough for me as time goes on. so, will you continue to be my best friend forever and marry me, pips?”

what the actual fuck is going on?

you weren’t even aware that there was a discount going on in the first place! but when caleb shoots you a smooth wink, you knew you had to act your part. with a famous cliche of saying yes! a thousand times yes! you put a palm on your mouth for the extra effect of showing how “shocked” you were.

once you two left the place, you elbowed caleb by his side. “ow! what was that for!” you huff at him. “that was for you being insane for pulling up that stunt earlier.”

“but i was serious about that though.”

“what?!”

#( rambles )#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb #x reader

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pedgito · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

part two– summary | It's a shitty situation, dependency brimming unspoken and one wrong move puts your life in danger and once again, you find yourself owing everything to Joel.

content warning | DDDNE — DUBCON, coercion, selective mutism on readers behalf, graphic depictions of violence, injury tw, attempted sa (briefly), brief mentions of pregnancy and procedures to prevent it, mean!joel, unhealthy coping mechanisms for trauma, all angst no fluff but a lot of emotion, smut (bc without it who am i), sex riding an adrenaline high after life or death situation, joel fucks you against a tree, showering together, weird domesticity, guilt-riddled joel, bed-sharing, unprotected piv, creampies, lots of progress made here i promise

author's note | part three will more than likely be out by the end of this month i promise! also thank you to everyone who's shown this story so much love, it means so much to me. this chapter is about as light as this story gets...so....sorry? <3

word count —9k

part one | part three | strangers masterlist

They argue about you like you’re not standing a few feet away.

“She needs a job,” Tommy tells him, “Rules, Joel. Everyone pulls their weight—how this works.”

“You act like I don’t know that,” Joel gripes, “but what are you expecting her to do? She don’t talk, she refuses to go anywhere without me. She sure as hell ain’t gonna be much use workin’ the stables or fixin’ fences when she’s so goddamn skittish.”

Tommy shrugs, “Patrol, then.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, “Like hell,”

Another silent standoff you were more than happy to stay out of, the nylon of your coat scratching against itself as you take a couple steps back in the fear of an impending blow up.

“Give me another option then,” Tommy argues, “You just said she won’t leave your side—”

“She ain’t ready for that,” Joel says rather defensively, your brow furrowing at his disdain over the idea, ignoring the fact you were on the run for several weeks, surviving on your own—this was different.

Admittedly, you had clung to Joel.

He was safe, comfortable, and had become a strange sense of home in an unfamiliar place.

As much as he tried to act like it didn’t affect him, he’s grown used to your presence. Though, he’s set a hard boundary with you—no touching, keep your distance, and always make yourself known. You were always quiet, eerily so, and Joel hated that.

Tommy attempts to decipher Joel, staring at his brother, “You don’t think she can do it,”

“Both,” Joel admits, both of their eyes flickering toward you briefly, expressions unreadable.

“I think she’ll surprise you,” Tommy admits.

Joel shakes his head in a lazy disbelief, not believing an ounce of what Tommy is trying to convince him of, “We’ll see—but she’s with me, no one else. Not even Ellie.”

“Figured that,” Tommy retorts, “You’re goin’ out pretty far, we haven’t hit the lodge in a couple weeks. That alright?”

Your body tenses at the mention of it, but neither of them notice. Joel’s hand curls into a fist and flexes open, a nervous tic you’ve noticed about him when he was trying to steady himself, he nods silently in response.

When you both arrive back to the Miller home, Joel begins packing his bag up, already half-stuffed and switching out a few things. He tosses you a tattered bag, old and well-loved before he’s pointing toward the basement.

“A couple pairs of clothes, extra pair of shoes, nothing that ain’t a necessity—I’ll stock your pack with the other stuff come mornin’ before we head out,”

You had a night then.

There was only one lodge near Jackson that you could remember. It was the last time you saw them.

The men in tailored gear, embroidered with a gold patch that designated their status amongst the group.

Trackers, seekers—they handled the recruiting, though often forced. They were glorified kidnappers, taking young men and women against their will if they were unfortunate enough to cross their path, but they also managed the hunting.

If someone escaped, they never came back in one piece.

Whether that was a shattered mind or a missing limb, it was never good.

The lodge was empty when you found it, just at the crest of winter when you had snuck in, fitting yourself into a sizable gap in the flooring covered by a wooden panel.

The men had been on your tail for days, tracking you through the miles of forests behind you and into the town.

Luckily, they were unsuspecting at that moment.

Your misfortune came later, but the lodge was a warning.

They were near, always near—you had no idea if they were still searching, even after a few weeks of settling in.

It was the unknown, the looming presence, that terrified you.

They had an obligation to follow demands but most of them did it for sport.

It was never anything but a game.

—

Sleep is fickle that night, scratching at the rusted metal of your bed frame until it was caked under your nails, the soft hum of electricity above as it moved through Joel’s house, his soft footsteps as he woke, gentle as he strolled barefoot, eventually trading it for heavy footfall as his boots went on—it was early dawn when the tap came to your door, feigning sleep as you hid under the sheets.

Joel gives you a few minutes, pacing beyond the threshold.

His patience reminds you of the kind you used to wish for back when everything was different, back when you were nothing but a prisoner—you were pushing it, though. Even Joel’s patience would wear thin, making your best attempt to delay the patrol before he’s opening the door with a click, the key shoved into the mechanism before the door creaks open.

“Get up,” he barks, “we’re already late and holding up the rest of ‘em,”

You moan tiredly, barely audible, shuffling under the sheets, only for them to be ripped back in an instant.

“You’ve got about five seconds,” he warns, snatching your pack off the floor as he stands over you, daring to pry your eyes open to take a peek at him, “or I’m rippin’ you out of that bed,”

He catches your eyes as they open and his brow is cocked authoritatively, making your body move despite your apprehensiveness for the entire situation and Joel eyes you skeptically, stepping around you as you move with little enthusiasm.

“If you changed your mind, I can talk to Tommy,” Joel says with a tone that makes your chest tighten with fear—both of abandonment and helplessness, “I’m sure he’ll find somethin’ for you to do here while I go and—”

You stop in your tracks at his words, coat on and shoes barely slipped over your heel as you’re approaching him with immediate worry, shaking your head furiously as you grip onto his bicep, eyes pleading.

He’s always direct with you now, making sure your eyes connect with his. He’s learned to read you through facial expression and emotion, settling with the fact you weren’t going to speak to him, whether capable or not.

“Alright,” he sighs, and you shrug slightly but not enough to break your hold, “then hurry up.”

His voice carries the weight of a thousand other mornings like this, where silence and glances fill the space between you. He’s grown comfortable, surprisingly. He didn’t like how normal your presence had become or how you seemed to settle into his life easily.

“Probably make a few stops along the way,” Joel explains, “I took myself off patrol duty for this,” he means you, this, the burden of your situation and disruption, “the lodge is far but usually out there we aren’t dealin’ with much, less infected in the cold and all.”

But not people, you think.

He sees you tense at the mention, coat shrugging over your shoulders.

Last ditch effort. Anything.

Just change his mind.

You reach for his palm as he extends it face up, examining you carefully.

You tap your pointer finger into the center of his palm before pointing it at the floor, the hand holding his wrist tugging insistently.

Stay. A finger into his palm.

Here. A finger to the floor.

You repeat it a few times until he seems to understand through the silent communication.

“Stay..stay,” he begins, deciphering your message, “we’re not—no we’re not stayin’ here.”

Your face falls, instincts turning to drastic measures as you drop his hand, invading his space in a way he’s been careful to avoid, hands curling around the side of his face and the soft brush of his beard itching your palm before you’re leaning forward to press your lips against his own, eagerly pulling him toward you.

Joel’s quick, though. He rips your hands away, fingers tightening around your bicep harshly.

“Don’t try that shit again,” he growls, “ain’t no fuckin’ choice in you stayin’ here.”

You try to yank away from him but it was pointless.

“Are you gonna listen or do I need to drag you out?”

Your jaw tightens and you slackening under his grip and while he could let you go, he doesn’t.

You stumble behind as he pulls you with him, up the stairs, around the hall and into the living room until you’re standing at the door and he’s releasing you to jab a finger in your face, flinching with every flick as it grows closer, making you go nearly cross eyed.

“You give me even the slightest amount of trouble while we’re out and I won’t hesitate to leave you behind,” Joel threatens, that sinking feeling of regret swirling in his gut the moment your expression softens.

She fucking trusts you, he reminds himself.

As slippery as that slope could be, he’s got a responsibility.

You nod shakily and the tightness of his grip pierces your soul, immediately submitting to his hold as he jerks you to face forward and reaches around to grab the knob, chest pressed against your back as you step outside.

A swirling wind greets you, whistling its own kind of warning as Joel drags you through the brittle, dried grass. Your boots crunch against the frosty ground, doing your best to keep pace with him, breath puffing out in frantic clouds. Cold air bites your skin and the crunch of your boots, now on gravel, fills the silence between you. It’s tense.

You follow him to the stable as he releases his grip on you, to the weapon compound, close at his side as he steers the horse to the front gate, looking rather apologetic to his brother who seems to sense the situation between you and Joel and quickly averts the watchful eyes of others with his voice, calling off the list of locations and names like a roll call.

“Get on,” he orders, softer now but still edged and you oblige, feeling a hovering touch of his hand over your thigh as you climb onto the horse and lean back, making room for him to climb on.

Joel’s arms snake behind him to wrap yours around his jacket before he grabs the reins and clicks his tongue. The horse hesitates, feeling your combined weight, then lurches forward. You cling to the saddle as Joel steadies you with a firm grip, holding you close as Jackson fades from view.

The solace you’ve come to appreciate slipping through your fingers, even if temporary, made the pit in your stomach grow rapidly.

The landscape stretches out in muted colors. Bare trees reach like fingers, tendrils to the gray sky and frost clings to their branches. Joel’s silence feels like a wall between you, and you bite your lip to fight the chill that’s creeping into your bones, shrugging the hood of your coat over your head as you bury your face in between his shoulder blades, eyes peeking over.

It’s a strange kind of comfort for Joel the way you settle into him, close and warm.

As much as he tried to keep his distance, there was always a loophole.

“You gonna explain what that was back there?” Joel asks, knowing his questioning is pointless, the roar of the wind and the bumpy ride making it nearly impossible for any type of silent communication, “I don’t want you doin’ that anymore, thinkin’ you need to act that way to…I don’t know—do whatever you’re wanting to do,”

The landscape rolls by like a somber, black and white film strip; broken fences and abandoned cars sprouting from the ground, dead infected and rotting animals, houses abandoned. It wasn’t as normal now, living in a lively place with such a dichotomy only a ride away, reminding you just how temporary your life was in this world.

“Were you scared to leave Jackson?” he asks curiously, trying to decipher what he could.

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. It was a yes and no question—safe was anywhere with Joel, but you were still weary. You don’t answer immediately, so Joel assumed that wasn’t the problem.

“Is it the weather? Don’t like the snow?” you shake your head almost immediately, uncaring for the elements, finding that dying from frostbite or heatstroke were both equally miserable.

“The lodge?” he asks after a long, drawn out silence—the ride was still long, more difficult as the snow began to pick up, falling in thick sheets, “Is there somethin’ out here you ain’t told us?”

You shift slightly, the leather of Joel’s jacket creaking beneath your cheek. The question hangs heavy, like the snow. It’s too much to explain, the knot of reasons tangled inside you. You press your face into his back again, wishing you could dissolve into him and stay there. You feel his sigh before you hear it, learning the way his body works through touch and sound. It’s not disappointment—it’s understanding.

But, that frightens you too.

Joel makes a few short stops along the way, simple checks on smaller lookouts that don't even require you to get off the horse, keeping watch as he was in and out within a couple of minutes, eyes always on you no matter where he moved.

You can sense the way his anger lingers in his face and the stiffness of his shoulders but his instinct to protect is stronger, shoving the sturdy emotion aside to traverse through the heavy storm until, hours later, the lodge comes into view, your heart hammering in your chest.

Your fingers tighten around the lapels of his jacket and he looks down, watching the way you strangle the fabric under your grip, shifting slightly on the saddle as he slows to a stop just inside the lodge before Joel helps you off the horse and ties him, leaving you for a moment that feels nothing short of a century, frozen in your spot as you hold your bag close to your chest.

“At some point you gotta start talkin’,” his voice startles you as it comes from the shadows, jacket stripped as he kneeled down at the fire pit near the center of the room, working quickly to warm the place up, “it ain’t about inconvenience either, it could get you killed.”

You move silently and sit nearby, eyes downturned and lips pulled tight.

It’s impossible to explain, the way your throat constricts at any attempt to speak, like a knee jerk reaction as you anticipate the strike of a hand or foot, a lash at your back or the hot prick of a cigarette into your skin.

You still felt it occasionally, the phantom pain.

Your bottom lip trembles as they part, desperately wanting to make the attempt but knowing your body won’t let you out of self-preservation. Joel doesn’t see the struggle, but he can see your fingers fidgeting, restlessness laying in wait.

“Did you bring your paper and pen with you?” Joel asks, sounding fatherly in a way that hints of a life lived and lost, “You can’t just ask the way you did this morning for no reason, I want answers,”

You nod obediently, riffling through your bag for the items.

Joel waits until they're in your hand and the fire crackles to life before he asks his first question.

“Is it the lodge? Is that why you wanted to stay in Jackson?” he asks, watching you scribble down a swift answer.

Yes. But, more.

He leans forward on his knees and into your space to read the scribbled note, sighing tiredly.

It isn’t what he wanted, obvious in the roll of his eyes.

“Explain,” He says tensely, “Stop bein’ so damn cryptic, I don’t like that shit,”

They followed me here. I hid.

Joel’s face contorts in confusion.

“They followed you that far?”

It was their job. Bad men, all of them. They enjoy it. I hid and they didn’t find me. That time. I was worried they might find me again. They didn’t that time.

Joel examines the concentration on your phase as you write out the words, taking the notebook as you gently shove it into his palm, large fingers wrapping around the notepad.

“Who is they?” Joel asks, “You keep writin’ they,” his fingernail scratches over the word, leaving an indent in the paper, “We’re tight about patrols out here, we woulda saw ‘em. You sure it wasn’t someone else? Maybe just some random raider? They stroll through from time to time lookin’ for shelter.”

No. Not random. They wore emblems, gold and threaded to look like an anchor. There are men we serve, higher-ups. Then ones that follow a code, like an army. The men after me were hunters. Trackers. Do you understand? Not for animals.

“Sick fucks,” Joel says mostly to himself as he reads over your writing,

Don’t leave me. Please. I will do anything.

His earlier words echo in your head, seeming to cross his own mind at the same time.

You shove the notepad at him hastily, hands trembling slightly,

“Don’t get worked up," Joel says, voice a little gruff, "I’m not leavin’.”

Safe. He writes it out underneath your own words.

Thick. Heavy.

He nods.

Suddenly, as Joel feels around in his pocket as he stands, he comes across an object Tommy had handed him before he left, careful as he approaches you and reaches for your hand, pressing the solid weight of the object into it.

It was your knife, cleaned up and sharpened to a dangerous point.

Joel makes a noise of warning, fingers tight around your wrist.

“This ain’t yours to keep,” Joel explains, “jus’ while we’re out here, in case you come across an animal or something, it comes right back to me when we leave, understood?”

Begrudgingly, you nod.

“Put it away,” he instructed, watching as you closed the knife and stuffed it into your pocket.

You couldn’t explain it, but the frustration in him still simmered, unsure if it was because of you or not. Joel was a sorrowful man, carrying enough guilt for a thousand men—it could be that he was just having a day, desperate for a moment to himself.

It comes a while later after you’ve both settled in and the place was filled with warmth, “Keep watch, don’t wander—I’ll sleep for a couple hours then take over, got it?”

You nod quickly, perched on the wide, open window as you watch the snowfall.

Something about it was oddly therapeutic, looking over to watch the scowl on Joel’s face soften as he fell into a deep slumber, leaning half reclined against a wall with his jacket balled up by his head to double as a pillow.

Hours pass without incident, thankfully. Joel said two, but it was already four and he was still sleeping, snoring now as he’s slumped down into a more horizontal position, growing slightly restless as the storm had calmed and the sun was shining overhead, desperate for a few moments of fresh air now that you were here, feeling comfortable enough in the quiet and with Joel’s presence that you could step out for a moment and breathe, putting on your shoes and coat quickly as you slipped out the back door of the lodge and watched a pair of birds on a branch as they hopped beside each other, chirping quietly.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt this calm or relaxed, glancing over at Joel sheepishly despite his obliviousness.

You inhale deeply, letting the crisp, post-storm air fill your lungs.

The lodge is silent behind you, save for the faint sound of Joel’s snoring. The fresh air feels like a relief, a moment of stillness that you hadn’t realized you needed. That you deserved.

Your eyes follow the pair of birds a moment longer, chirping softly to each other.

It’s peaceful—almost too peaceful.

A small prickle of unease creeps up your spine, but you shake it off.

It’s just quiet.

Nothing’s wrong.

Then—

You feel your throat swell.

The snap of a twig.

You freeze. The birds flutter away, startled. Your breath catches.

You don’t have time to turn before an arm locks around your chest, a rough hand clamping over your mouth. You couldn’t scream even if you wanted to.

“Oh, easy, ea-sy,” the stranger coos with a sickening softness, “don’t wanna wake him up, do ya?”

The faceless attacker holds you tight, something sharp and jagged at your back as he guides you backwards, further away from Joel.

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you struggle, but he’s strong.

He reeks of sweat and damp clothes, his grip unyielding.

"You people think you’re so damn careful… but you’re just easy pickings if you ain’t watchin’,” he sounds so smug and amused, greedy as he dragged you further and further away, feet stumbling out beneath you as you fell into the snow against him, a grunt shooting from his chest but ultimately it was followed by a spine-chilling chuckle, a hand slipping underneath the material of your shirt and over your abdomen, “been camped out here all day watchin’ you both, thought you were a dime, though–couldn’t pass up the opportunity,”

You twist sharply, managing to get free, clawing at his arm as you shove it away. He grunts in irritation but grabs at your ankle, yanking you back down as you fall to your ass, silently groaning at the pain.

"Feisty," he mutters. "I like it. Ain’t much fun otherwise."

You’ve fought for your life plenty of times and this was no different.

It shouldn’t surprise you that misfortune met you at every turn, allowing yourself to fall into a false confidence only to be disappointed once more as the man looms over you, a shadow of menace. You kick wildly, connecting with his shin. A low snarl escapes him.

“Little bitch,” he hisses, shaking his leg as if to brush off the sting.

But, it gives you a moment to scramble backward on your hands and heels, snow biting at your palms as you shoved your hand into your pocket to find your knife, watching as he stalked toward you in a pure rage, opening your mouth in a scream you know will never come, but then he’s tripping, scrambling to catch his bearings over you.

The tip of the blade slices through his guts like butter, feeling the bile rise in your throat at the sensation and the warm spread of blood over your hand, desperately trying to force his weight off of you, but his hands finds your face, thumbs reaching for your eyes in any attempt to injure you but then there’s a shot ringing out, startling the both of you.

Simultaneously, the man jerks violently, his hands going slack around your face as he falls with a gurgling choke. Blood flows down his neck and onto you, drenching your clothes in a way that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You scramble to your knees, backing away without looking toward the gunman as you panic, wiping the blood from your skin and into the snow, desperate to rid yourself of the thick fluid before Joel’s invading your space, fingers tightening into your coat to yank you upright as he shoves you back against a tree, blinded with pure rage.

He had saved you. He was angry, sure. But, he saved your life. Again.

“Are you fucking stupid, girl?!” he asks, his tone tight and harsh, met with a meek nod.

“Wrong answer,” He snaps, “I said two hours, then you wake me. I said not to wander and you did—so answer me again, are you—fucking stu—”

He doesn’t register that sting of your teeth in his bottom lip until your hand curls around the back of his neck, tongue spearing into his mouth as his mouth parts in surprise, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pull him into the kiss.

Thank you, it breathes.

His grip slackens for the briefest moment before turning to steel again, fingers knotted in your clothes, twisting and pulling you closer. The violence of him feels like a lifeline, like something sure and solid in this brutal world. He’s safe.

Safe.

He shoves you harder against the tree, rough bark biting through your coat as his teeth gnash against yours, tangled breaths turning to steam in the cold.

Your head spins, heart shuddering up into your throat, and you lose yourself in the way he feels, like fury itself. His hand moves from your clothes to splay over your belly, warm and forceful where the knife was just seconds before on your attacker who lay lifeless on the snowy ground.

You can’t stop thinking.

The coppery taste of blood lingers everywhere: on your clothes, on the dead man, on Joel’s mouth now. The snow around you is red-stained as his hands roam over you, your own hands mirroring his unspoken neediness as you tear into the belt of his jeans, feeling him undo your own in tandem, unable to look one another directly in the eye at that moment, desperate for connection by other means.

He shouldn’t be allowing this, but the urge to consume your gratitude is stronger.

His thumb fumbles with the button of your jeans, and you’re practically writhing to get them off, burning up despite the chill. You sigh internally as he manages to get them free, yanking them far enough down your thighs before he’s turning you against the tree.

The world fades around you; it’s just him, just you, each breath mingling as he frees himself from his pants. You feel his heat press against you, insistent, frenzied, somehow apologetic as it fits between your thighs.

You feel his fingers fit between your legs and spread between your folds like instinct but you’re shaking your head, hand clawing at back of his neck as you arch your ass into him, a silent plea for him to just fuck you instead, needy as you bring his mouth to yours with a distinct hunger, swallowing up his ragged breaths as he rubs his thumb and pointer finger over the head of his cock and through your slick before he’s stretching you open with little grace, mouth open in a silent gasp as your free hand grabs at his hip.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your mouth, words dissolving into a groan as he sets an unrelenting pace. The tree bark is rough against your skin, but you don’t care, the rawness of it only adds to the frenzy growing between you. Hastily undressed and filthy, the kiss-smudged blood across his face smearing into yours.

He’s practically holding you up like this, his grip slipping over your hips as his mouth finds your neck, biting down just enough to bruise or draw blood of your own, not entirely sure.

His thrusts breath raw desperation, nails clawing at bare skin as he hisses into your neck.

There’s nothing soft about it, no measured rhythm, just a brutal need for each other.

Joel is acutely aware of the way your body is responding to him, silent sobs racking your chest as you pull him impossibly closer, “I gotcha,” he says, “I feel you, you’re gonna give it to me, aren’t ya? S’right there, I feel it,”

And he wants it more than he was comfortable admitting to himself, the satisfaction of filling the insatiable need you had craved from him.

His hand snakes over your mouth, smothering sounds that would never surface, but the gesture is heady, biting at the skin of his palm until you knew it would sting.

Desperation blurs into pleasure, and you feel it shuddering through you like an electric current and the world comes rushing in again all at once: the cold air nipping at sweat-slick skin, branches clawing at your chest like a bitter, jealous lover. It’s hard to tell, the way you both are clawing at this for dear life, but you think this is maybe as close as the two of you have ever been, filthy and frantic and burning up together as you come, feeling Joel pull out in enough time to spill into his fist, low and drawn-out grunts that had you cunt pulsing, resting dissociatively against the tree.

It was the most human you’ve felt in years.

“Get inside,” Joel says suddenly, pulling you back to reality—surprisingly, his voice is calmer.

And for once, you don’t argue.

–

Joel watches you change, trading the bloodied clothes for fresh ones and wiping you down in between, a silent but intimate gesture that neither of you outwardly address, eyes scanning his face carefully as he taps at your chin so he can wipe underneath your neck.

And you don’t speak about it.

Joel doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He takes care of the body, stays on watch despite your quiet persistence to help

But, as your hand trembles at your side as you approach him beside the fire pit, his fingers thread into your own, a heavy weight holding you down until it stops shaking. You can feel the small tremor on his own, harbored for different reasons. But, it calms him too.

You felt like there was finally equal ground to stand on.

–

When you arrive back in Jackson a couple days later, Joel relays information about the raider with some omissions, only suggesting that there be more frequent checks, but as you and Joel settle into a routine, things become almost…too easy.

He’s always expectant of your knife the moment you approach the gates, handing it over without problem, but just as easily sliding it into your own as you settle into your patrol spot for whatever rotation you both ended up on, still increasingly weary around others that weren’t Joel, you find a similar protection with Tommy, though not entirely comparable.

Tommy only took you out so far as to teach you how to shoot and clear out infected that were a safe enough distance they couldn’t do any real harm, only swarms passing through.

Joel still hasn’t initiated any touch with you since that day, but his actions are increasingly more intimate despite his body language around you—though, that doesn’t mean he stops you.

Maybe it was how he justified his own righteousness, that he was absolving himself of the guilt that he had knowingly allowed you to attach yourself to him, almost selfishly.

With Ellie’s growing independence becoming more and more obvious, Joel leans toward your odd connection and the ease it brings to his routine.

You’re shivering over a cup of coffee one morning despite your layers and blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the chill making your bones ache.

“You can sleep up here, you know,” Joel tells you, “the couch is comfortable, s’close to the fire, too.”

You shrug nonchalantly, sipping softly at the strong brew.

“Sleep up here,” he tries again, a command, your hesitation curling around the steaming cup as your eyes connect, nodding hesitantly.

His mug scuffs the counter as his fingers curl around the ceramic, his hip settling into the edge as he leans into the surface and you meet him with an honest gaze.

“Are you only agreeing because I’m tellin’ you to?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

Joel doesn’t harp on it, though. It was a small battle won, less worry of you catching frostbite or a cold down in the basement, your presence more apparent as you move into the neutral living space, there when he wakes and when he retires for the night, quiet and somber.

Then, there was an instance with the shower that became routine.

Your skin caked with dirt and re-opened cuts crusted with days old blood, a particularly rough run-in with a group of infected that Joel had dealt with mostly, you trailing close behind and taking out the few stragglers.

Joel always opted for privacy anymore—save the moment at the lodge when you had shed your blood stained clothes and Joel had to make sure none of it was your own, but your body was exhausted as was your mind, losing your footing as you stumbled into the sink and made a soft noise that Joel’s never heard before.

He’s never heard anything from you, really.

Only your breathing, heavier in moments of anxiety or despair, but soft as you slept.

You were hunched over the tub and half-dressed, your head pounding as the blood rushed there, eyes squeezing shut as you bit at the inside of your cheek and Joel’s presence is there, but far, hovering near the door as he just needed eyes on you to confirm you weren’t hurt.

As the door closes and you’re pushing back to your feet, you yank it back with a similar strength and Joel watches your hand reach for him, curling in the fabric of his shirt as you silently plead for him to come closer.

Help me, your eyes plead.

Quietly, you guide the shirt over his head and his mind finally catches up, reaching behind you as he turns the water on until the bathroom was smothered with steam, his eyes wondering anywhere but you as you both stepped in naked under the stream, guided by Joel to turn away as he washed you in silence, careful and methodical, leaning into his touch as his fingers curl around the back of your neck to wash your hair.

It happens once or twice again, based around the frequency of patrols and whenever the house was empty and though Joel is hesitant to your touch, eventually he gives in, eyes usually closed as you face him, hands tugging through his dirtied hair and over his chest, a low rumble as your fingers curl a little too low, grazing over the curve of his ass before his fingers catch your wrist and his eyes pry open, shaking his head.

Eventually, his resolve fades.

He tries, but your persistence is steadfast, growing needful to his proximity in every facet of your life and the kisses are shy at first, gentle presses to his shoulder or arm, occasionally over his chest or neck, his hands hovering but never touching without necessity.

He doesn’t like to talk, either. But, he became familiar with the scar on your lower abdomen, just above your pelvis and thick, the skin clearly marred but not like the others on your body.

You always guide his hand away out of discomfort, unsure how to explain without using words.

Though, given what you’ve told him and the behaviors you’ve exhibited, Joel can make a guess.

He blurts it out one night as you shower until the water grows cold.

“They take something from you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod slightly, hands curving over his shoulders to dig into the muscle and knead, his eyes downturned and dark, intimidating as always.

The doctors performed a salpingectomy on many, including you, unsafe and at risk of death given the environment and lack of understanding, there was no telling what kind of damage they had done, but the most important part was that reproduction was null, some sick and twisted belief to keep women obedient and available.

You don’t remember much, but it was years ago.

Your face heats as you mimic a pregnant belly, ignoring how his hand guides over your breast with the soapy rag as you lock eyes with him, shaking your head.

His face twitches emotionlessly, nostrils flaring, “I’m sorry,” and he means it.

Joel remembers the harsh accusation he’d thrown at you, assuming your motives without understanding or knowing, but this—it gives him perspective.

–

A few hours later, you wake from a night terror.

It was dark, pitch black and quiet, but you couldn’t move.

Your mouth opens to scream but nothing comes out, thrashing against invisible bindings until you come to, Joel’s hands locked around your shoulders to keep you still, shaking you back to reality.

“Hey, hey,” his voice is an instant drug that soothes, eyes ripping open and searching frantically until they land on his face, “breathe, kid—you’re here, not there,”

Joel knew—of course he did.

He stays until you calm, pushing up on your hands to sit up and reaching for his arm as he stands, repeating the same gesture in his palm that he’s come to understand, crystal clear.

Stay, you gesture.

“Okay,” he agrees quietly, but you’re pulling him closer, fingers curling against his sides and Joel shakes his head, giving you some resistance, “nono—ain’t enough room for that, alright?”

Your grip tightens, begging.

Joel exhales through his nose in defeat, his hands twitching slightly where they still hold you.

He doesn’t even need to ask, your footsteps following closely behind his own as he turns, padding back toward his room down the hall, slipping into his bed and under the sheets without a word, the weight of him next to you enough to settle your anxiety.

The second time you crawl into his bed, it’s after another nightmare.

He doesn’t say anything—just lets out a tired sigh and shifts over, leaving space for you. You don’t touch him, not at first. Just tuck yourself into the blankets, facing away, the tension in your body easing just enough for sleep to take hold.

Then, it happens again. And again.

Every night, the same thing.

You slip in, quiet as ever, and Joel tells himself it’s fine. That he can keep his distance.

But, you always end up entangled by the time you wake.

Your cheek pressed into his chest. His arm curled protectively around your waist.

His breath in your hair.

Him, around you.

Joel knows he should stop this.

He should tell you to stay in your own damn bed.

That it ain't right.

That he can’t be what you need him to be.

One night, he’s not asleep when you slip into his bed.

He feels the mattress dip, the hesitant pause before you settle in beside him, close but not touching. Joel keeps his eyes shut, breath steady, pretending he doesn’t notice.

But, then your fingers ghost over his wrist, then around his waist, your knee shifting between his thighs as you curl into him and nuzzle against his neck, lips pressing into his pulse point.

He stiffens. Feels you hesitate, then try again, pressing a kiss into the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Kid," he mutters, voice low, warning.

He can feel the neediness in your touch, eyes flicking up shyly to look at him as he bows his head to look down at you.

"You do everything I tell you to," he murmurs, and he’s right—voice rough with sleep. "If I told you to go back to your own bed, would you listen?"

Silence.

Then, your fingers tighten slightly where they’re wrapped around him. A slow shake of your head to answer his question and a sigh from him that follows, it shakes the room.

It’s defeat.

Your lips brush against his jaw first, tentative, testing. When he doesn’t stop you, you press again, slower this time. Then lower, over the rough stubble of his throat.

Joel lets out a slow, shuddering breath. His hand finds your waist, fingers curling tight before forcing himself to loosen his grip.

His fingers twitch against your waist, the calloused pads pressing firm into the soft give of your skin. His breath is heavy, slow, controlled—because he has to be.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, but it’s weak, “can’t be.”

A hollow protest.

You don’t say anything, just tilt your head, lips tracing along his pulse, feeling it thrum beneath your mouth, slow and steady. He’s always so calm, a constant beat that never skipped or faltered.

He exhales sharply, his grip tightening. “Christ,” he breathes, head tipping forward until his forehead brushes against yours. “You don’t listen worth a damn, do you?”

You shake your head again, more deliberate this time.

His eyes flick to yours, dark and searching, like he’s looking for something—one last excuse to push you away.

But there’s nothing—he’s guilty for the need of this too.

And then you’re pulling him down, lips pressing against his, soft but insistent, and any last restraint he had left crumbles in an instant.

Joel groans against your mouth, deep and wrecked, his hands still hesitant to touch, only allowing it as you initiate, dragging his hand to your waist and down, under your thigh until he’s hiking your leg over his hip.

His lips part, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he kisses you again, harder, deeper, like he needs this just as much as you do. Like he’s just as desperate for it.

He is.

Joel pulls you closer, his hands gripping at your waist. His lips are slow at first, searching, but when you whimper against his mouth, something inside him snaps. It’s a sound he hasn’t heard, the first he’s ever heard, surprising yourself as the sound slips out, throat immediately collapsing on itself in fear, awaiting the hands that wrap tight around your throat and suffocate.

Instead, his hand fists in the fabric of your shorts, curling around your hip as your core drags over his groin, his quickly hardening cock pressing against the inside of your thigh.

"You don’t even think twice, do you?" he rasps against your lips, his breath warm and unsteady. "Just do whatever the hell I tell you without arguing?”

You nod, fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. You nod, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. With your muteness, it meant Joel’s eyes had to be on you, constantly waiting and searching for communication.

It made you feel special, the way he was attentive to you at all times.

Your thumb drags over his lip as you pause for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in.

His eyes darken, something unreadable flickers across his face, and his hands still for a moment too, resting heavy on the bare skin of your leg.

“That ain’t always a good thing,” he tell you, but he’s already leaning back in, following the push into his shoulder as you raise your leg over his abdomen to straddle him, pressing him into the mattress as you grind down into him.

Somehow you know he’ll follow, that he won’t resist.

He’s guilty, too—doesn’t ever think twice when it comes to you. That’s what eats at him the most—how easily you give in to each other. How willingly.

Your hands skim down his chest, nails scratching lightly over the thick hair there, down to his stomach, lower—until he catches your wrist, shaking his head.

"Slow down," he murmurs, voice strained, rough around the edges as your hips moving at a leisurely pace, glancing down to admire the thickness of his shaft as the fabric hugged around him, leaving no part of him to imagination, the thick trail of hair that disappeared beyond his waistband, "You don't gotta—"

You shake your head, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes fall shut.

A groan rumbles low in his chest as he lets go of you, hands falling to his side as lets you use him, slowly realizing what this moment was for you.

A reclamation of your own pleasure and autonomy, using his body for release that did nothing to benefit him outside of the wonder that bloomed into his features as you move more frantic, fabric bunching up higher at your hips as you chase your high, working toward the crest of your orgasm that you just couldn’t reach, face scrunching up in annoyance as you start to hit as his chest with soft blows, seemingly frustrated.

Joel knows what you need, skin against skin, flush connection.

You look up at him with a pout that pleads, screaming out.

And this time, he doesn’t stop you as you shift, a fury of limbs as you remove your shorts with impatience, tossing them to the floor as you tug at his sweats, his cock bobbing heavy and free, just far enough down his thighs that you can see how his balls tighten at your touch, taking a moment to admire him this way, his face contorted into something unreadable as your thumb slides over his slit, leaking with precum and his tip a blushed red.

Joel lets out a strangled breath, his head tilting back against the pillow as your fingers wrap around him, slow and deliberate, dragging over the length of him with just enough pressure to make his stomach tense.

He breathes slowly, his hands twitching at his sides, like he’s resisting the urge to touch you.

To guide you. Teach you.

But he won’t—he lets you take what you need, lets you move at your own pace.

You shift upwards, lining yourself up with him, the heat of your slick cunt teasing against his length, dragging up and down as you shudder at the feeling, the head of his cock sliding against your clit, the shlick of your bodies as they move against each other.

His jaw clenches, muscles taut as he watches.

Your fingers curl against his skin, nails pressing into him as you take all of him, inch by inch.

He finds himself waiting for a sound, silently begging for it, curious if you would sound as wrecked as he did, grunting when you’re seated fully, the burn mixing with pleasure so intense it makes your head fall forward.

Joel’s breath stutters. His hands find your waist with your guidance, squeezing tight, like this was your attempt in trying to get him to ground himself too. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust up into you—just lets you adjust, lets you take him however you want.

“Fuck,” he grunts, voice wrecked. “You feel that?” You nod, biting your lip, rolling your hips experimentally. A pleasurable ache growing in your gut. He groans, low and guttural, his fingers digging into your flesh. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Take what you need.”

And you do.

You start slow, your hands braced against his chest, feeling the taut muscle beneath your palms as you roll your hips, testing, searching for something you’re not sure of. The stretch is deep, almost too much, but it’s what you want—what you need.

Joel’s hands grip your waist, like he’s holding himself back, like if he lets go, he’ll take over.

But he doesn’t. He just watches, dark eyes hooded, jaw tight as you find your rhythm.

He exhales through gritted teeth, watching the way you move, the way your body trembles every time you take him deeper, your breasts shifting under your shirt as you bounce, finding himself speaking before the words filter, like his pleasure has a mind of its own.

"You always listen so well, don’t you?"

Your breath hitches at the praise, the smallest whimper slipping from your lips, and Joel's fingers tighten on your hips, not guiding you, but steadying you, anchoring you to him. You’ve never made sounds like this before, not even by accident.

With him, the fear of retaliation has begun to ease. Each noise that slips isn’t met with anger or rage, but astonishment, eyes widening in wonder.

“You like that?” he asks, voice rough, like it’s been dragged down a gravel road, "Doin’ what you’re told?"

You nod frantically, grinding down harder, desperate for more.

For him, you think. Only for him.

Give me safety. I’ll give you everything.

He curses under his breath, his restraint fraying at the edges. "Fuck—look at you," he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh now, a warning, his own control slipping. "Takin’ me so fuckin’ good."

A shudder runs through you at his words, your walls fluttering around him, making him hiss.

"Keep goin'," he murmurs, lifting up slightly as he settles on an elbow, the thumb of his free hand stroking your skin, the tension in his body betraying how much effort it takes to stay still, “I feel ya, how bad you need it,”

Your fingers reach for him, prying his grip from your waist and guiding his hands up, over your body, pressing them against your breasts, your stomach, anywhere you can, until he gets it—until he stops holding back. He rises to meet you, arms wrapping around your waist similar to how you had cornered him on the couch in the basement, but the implication is different.

A deep, guttural groan escapes him, and then his hands are moving on their own, sliding down to grip your ass, to spread you wider as he thrusts up into you, slow but deep, pushing a broken moan from your throat.

"Yeah?" he rasps in surprise, voice strained. "Is that what you wanted?"

You nod helplessly, nails scraping over his chest as you try to keep up with his pace, but Joel doesn’t let you. He takes over now, fucking up into you with long, deliberate strokes, each one dragging a whimper from your lips.

More sounds, he needed more sounds.

"You gotta tell me," he pleads, his grip almost bruising now. "I need to hear it."

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp, your head falling forward against his shoulder, and Joel growls, wrapping the arm around your back tight to keep you pressed against him.

"Say it," he demands, voice thick with need as he looks up at you, "Tell me what you need. I know you can—you’re doin’ so good," It was such a stark contrast, the praise.

Your lips part, voice shaky, barely above a whisper and broken, your voice foreign to your ears as it leaves your mouth

"You."

Joel freezes beneath you, stilling for half a second, something unreadable flickering across his face before it’s gone, replaced with something darker, something deeper.

He wants to fucking ruin you and build you back up watching as the tears form in your eyes, knowing what the action meant, the energy and bravery it took, he doesn’t push it aside.

His chest rises sharply against yours, breath stalling like he’s not sure he heard right. His fingers twitch against your skin, gripping tighter, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

You feel the weight of it, the shift in the air.

His pulse hammers against your palm where you press against his throat, his body locked beneath you like the words had cut him deeper than any knife ever could.

Your voice.

You’ve never spoken before.

Not to him. Not to anyone.

And now, with your body wrapped around him, shaking, desperate, it’s him you ask for.

Him you need.

His name is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it.

You just press closer, urging him with slow rolls of your hips, hoping he understands, hoping he doesn’t make you say it again—because you don’t think you can.

And then, Joel moves.

Slowly. Carefully.

His hands roam, sweeping over your back, your waist, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your ribs like he’s memorizing you, feeling you breathe. His touch is softer now, reverent, as if the moment itself has changed, evolved into something neither of you expected.

You nod to an unasked question, pressing your lips against his cheek, his jaw, anywhere you can reach, trying to coax him back, trying to keep the moment from slipping away.

His hips snap up, slow but deep, dragging a soft, broken moan from your throat that makes his grip tighten. A noise barely audible.

"That’s it," he breathes, his voice thick with something you can’t explain. His hands guide you now, steady but unrelenting, moving you with him, driving deeper, harder, every roll of your hips pulling another sound from your lips, another shudder from your body.

He drinks in every noise, every gasp, every trembling sigh like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Collecting them all and committing them to memory.

"Keep talkin’ to me," he mutters, voice ragged, desperate. "Let me hear you."

But, you can’t.

The pleasure is too much, coiling tight, pulling you under, and all you can do is cling to him, gasping against his throat as your body starts to shake through your orgasm. The energy it takes to speak, the courage bleeding you dry. You’d lost your voice again.

Joel feels it—your unraveling, your breaking, the way your walls flutter around him—and it undoes him completely. Your hands cradle your face, tilting his head back so you can see him, his dark eyes burning into yours as he thrusts up hard as he spills inside of you, not entirely thinking as he does it.

"That’s it, baby," he praises, “Keep squeezin’ me, I’m right here,”

And for a long moment, neither of you move.

The only sound is his ragged breaths, the pounding of your heart.

His lips brush your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin.

"You," he murmurs to you, soft, like it means something to him too.

Maybe it does, you weren’t sure.

–

He reaches you this way, through connection and touch.

Sex or something similar, the intensity of the moment clouding your thoughts and relaxing your worry, and his too.

It was a give and take with each other, distracting Joel from his constant stream of troubling thoughts and worries, still never approaching you—it was always under your guidance.

Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe it’s wrong. But every time your hands find him, every time you press yourself into his space, silently asking for comfort, for connection, he gives in.

The moment you touch him, the constant, gnawing dread in his mind quiets.

Just for a little while. And selfishly, he needs it.

Your fingers trail up his chest, light, uncertain, tracing the scars like a map. Joel watches, his breath slow and steady, his muscles tense beneath your touch—but he doesn’t stop you.

He never does.

You cornered him in the kitchen this particular night, his hands curled over the edge of the sink with his head hung, chest heaving like he had just woken up from his own nightmare, sneaking out of bed but not quite enough that you wouldn’t notice.

When you press your lips against his skin, soft and searching, he exhales like he’s been holding it in for too long.

Like you were the answer.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice rough, low, but there’s no demand in it.

No expectation.

Only restraint.

He’s not sure how much longer he can hold back, between the constant time spent together and the nights spent inside of you, allowing your greediness to take hold.

He pushed his own aside, stuffed until it was boiling over.

You nod, and that’s all it takes.

His hands find your waist, pulling you against him, guiding you the way you he needs, the way he knows you need too, his grip firm, like he’s holding something fragile—something breakable.

That's what this was, after all.

A delicate balance. A silent understanding.

You give each other this, and in return, he gives you himself, as do you—fully, completely, no barriers, no walls.

When he moves it is slow and deliberate, when his mouth finds your throat and his fingers grip your neck, guiding you against and up on the counter, fingers spreading underneath your top before it’s torn over your head, it was all the same. His palms curve around your neck, pulling you toward him as his lips capture yours in a surprisingly tender kiss, lips parting immediately as his tongue licks along your own, mirroring his touch as you spread your legs to make room for him.

You don’t need anything else but this.

Only this.

Only him.

Only you.

But, there’s that gnawing in Joel’s chest that makes him out to be the monster he knows he can be, taking advantage of your trauma and pushing your limits, using you like you’ve been used before.

He’s no better, he thinks.

If anything, he’s worse.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfic #my writing #fic: strangers

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moonstruckme · 11 hours ago

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MAAAAEEEEE I was wondering if I could request a Peter Parker fic where he just kind of adopts shy!reader without her consent like “yeah we’re friends now, we spend time together and also we’re probably gonna fall in love and date but why don’t we just start with me walking you home from class” or some such nonsense. Also wondering if you could keep his spidey-powers; I love that little mutant freak

I hate you for doing this to me

Ugh our mutant freak <3 Thanks for the request babe!

tasm!Peter Parker x shy!reader ♡ 920 words

You’re never alone on the way home from class anymore. You’re not sure what changed at the start of the spring semester, if you just started putting out helpless-pedestrian energy or if it was something else, but soon after the start of classes your walks home from your night class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday began being accompanied by none other than Spider-Man. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it’s Peter.

You and Peter have molecular biology together. On the first day of class, he rushed in just as your professor started lecturing. Every seat was full except the one next to you, and when you offered it to him silently with a nod of your head, Peter looked so relieved you’d think you handed him an A in the class. He’s been glommed onto your ever since; some days he asks you to stop for coffee after class, some days he offers to study with you in the library, and he always walks you home. You don’t know what you did to deserve the company, but you appreciate it.

“You ever been there?” Peter asks, nodding to a stand advertising New York City’s Best Vegan Hot-Dogs.

“No,” you say.

“Well, seems like we’ve gotta try them at some point. I mean, they’re the best in New York.”

A smile tugs at your lips. Peter’s always doing that. Making plans, saying we. It’s like the idea of you two hanging out beyond the end of your class is a foregone conclusion in his head. You haven’t been able to figure out if that’s just the way Peter talks or if he means it. You hope it’s the latter.

“You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says with affected certainty. “I mean, why would you doubt the sign? Everyone knows you have to get things like that certified.”

You glance up at Peter, but one look into his smiling eyes is too much for you. You have to turn your face away. “I’m pretty sure there are three #1 Indian Restaurants in my neighborhood.”

“Oof. Must make for some brutal decisions when you’re craving Indian.”

Two weeks ago, you offered to buy Spider-Man dinner for walking you home. It was stupid—he can’t eat through the mask, which he told you kindly and which you could have figured out if you thought about it for more than a second before opening your mouth—but you were feeling guilty about stopping to pick up takeout and indebted for all the time he spends walking you home instead of preventing mob activity or whatever Spider-Man does. He professed, upon smelling your takeout, that Indian food is one of his favorites, too.

You haven’t told Peter about your vigilante escort. Spider-Man never comes to you while Peter’s around—presumably because you don’t need his help if you’ve already got a companion—and it’s the sort of ridiculous story you know will sound made up out loud. Why do you know that Spider-Man likes matar paneer? What makes you so special? They’re unanswerable questions, and you’d never be able to look at Peter again if he laughed at you.

“Hey.” Peter bumps your hip with his. You go stiff at the contact. “You okay?”

“Hm?” You look up, and he’s watching you with concern. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You seem a little quiet,” he says. And when your face heats, “Well, quieter than usual.”

“Sorry,” you say again, embarrassed. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Oh, yeah? Class was a long one, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense.” Peter sounds disappointed. You blink at him in confusion, and he almost winces. “I don’t suppose…I mean, if you just want to get home I get that, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab food? With me?”

Your steps stutter. It’s not that you and Peter have never hung out before. Or even that all the time you’ve spent together centers wholly around class—there have been coffees, chats in the hallway, walks in the park near your university building—but it’s something about the way he asks, like it’s important this time, like it means something. You want for it to mean something.

“I could still grab food.” You’re not quite looking at him, fiddling with the contents of your jacket pocket. Popping the lid to your chapstick on and off.

“Yeah?” Peter asks hopefully.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

His voice softens, a smile in it. “Could you look at me, maybe?”

You glance up, regretting it instantly as always. Peter is resplendent. Dimples framing his smile like parenthesis, hair mussed by the wind that beats at you while crossing every street, he’s the sort of handsome that’s only just starting to figure out how handsome he is. You think you probably make it easier for him. To figure it out.

“Do you really want to,” he asks in a sincere tone, “or are you just appeasing me? If you’re tired I can take you straight to your place.”

Your heart thudders. If you have to look at him for much longer you worry you’ll melt into the cracks of the pavement. “I want to,” you say. “I’m sort of hungry, too.”

“Okay, awesome.” He sounds happy again. You think if you were lucky, that’d be the only thing you were put on Earth to do, make Peter happy. “Maybe we could try one of those Indian places near yours? See who’s really number one.”

“Sure.” You smile up at him, brain buzzing when Peter beams back.

“Sick! I could really go for some matar paneer.”

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digitald0rk · 17 hours ago

Text

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* NERD ALERT ! [ 2 ]

pairing : mark grayson x gn!reader.

synopsis : nerding out with your beloved bf :3

warnings : slightly suggestive and uh the usual pet names? he calls you his angel too <3 NOT PROOFREAD!! also mentions of dante sparda because the dmc anime is coming out 'm so excited!!!

w.c : 1.5 k.

a/n : THANK U SM FOR 200+ FOLLOWERS WHAT THE HELL SJSHJEHSLSKD. love you all <3

taglist : @vm4879bb-blog @hihowyoudoin00 @fairii-majii [ lemme know if you wanna be added too ]

READ PART [ 1 ] HERE !

if you're into video games, he's going out of his way to learn all about your faves.

when it comes to fighter games, thinks he's soooo slick looking up combos and learning them, he's all like “heh :3 gonna sweep them off their feet” and then gets absolutely BODIED LMAO.

if you show him no mercy he'll eventually start to get frustrated, not at you obviously you're his previous angel <3

“i’m not sulking.” he says, while clearly sulking. he was supposed to impress you! why are you so good at this :(

if he doesn't get a single win he's gonna suffocate one of your plushies when you're out of sight, it keeps staring at him, is that little fella mocking him? oh it'll pay for that.

you look at him amusedly when you come back to see the very obvious dent on your plushie, caused by a certain someone's fist.

“mark.” your eyes dart between the deformed head of your plushie and your boyfriend, biting back a smile.

“yeah baby?” he's all :3 bats his eyelashes all pretty at you, acting like he didn't just beat the shit out of your plushie like BOY YOU'RE NOT SLY.

but he is pretty, so you'll spare him, for now, not in the game though :p

on the topic of video games, he's actually decent at competitive games :] he loves playing them with you but if you die in the middle of a match he gets unmotivated to finish it (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

unless someone was trying to rizz you up or something during the game then yeah, HE'S GOING TO WIN.

do not play dress to impress in front of this man, he gets awfully competitive about it.

“pretty sure even cecil can dress better than that.”

“baby i think that's an eight year old.”

“still, cecil has more drip.”

gets all smug when he wins, god forbid he's not in top three he's gonna go on a rant about how unfair the world is.

he'll always vote for your fits positively though! even though they might be…. questionable at times but he loves his baby :D

minecraft with your boyfriend is actually really fun! except he accidentally set the palace that you built on fire once and literally REFUSED to touch the game for weeks after that (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

will get sad if an animal dies :(

has names for all your dogs and cats, calls them your children.

“don't forget, we gotta feed our children babe.” he tells you, sipping on his milkshake.

and normally you'd smile and say something equally silly except for the fact that you two were currently hanging out with a couple of friends and that sentence certainly earned some looks.

“you two-”

“in minecraft!” you'd clarify, and cue the feigned annoyance filled groans and mutters of how you two are insufferable.

also one time he got so invested in building that he literally stayed up for ten hours, building the perfect wedding venue for you two!

asked [ forced ] everyone to make minecraft accounts and invited them all to your wedding in minecraft.

he kisses you in real life too when your characters “smooch” in the pixelated game.

he's gonna marry you for real one day, just you wait.

his irises turn into literal hearts when you pull up in a cosplay.

he would also love to cosplay with you!

bonus points if it's one of his favorite characters, his ass is NOT TAKING HIS HANDS OFF OF YOU LMAOOOOOO.

and if you two do end up getting freaky, like roleplaying as the characters then yeah rip bed.

matching literally anything! matching kirby socks? sure why the hell not. matching seance dog mugs? hell yeah! he's all for it!

and yes, you two have some nerdy matching pj set.

and matching underwear too :3 you jokingly bought them but he isn't playing around when he wears them seance dog boxers!

you both keep trying to recruit oliver in one of your favorite fandoms, although the little thraxan has other plans.

“guys no im not watching [ insert media name here ] !” “but oliverrr :(”

you're bother super annoying <3

sometimes mark will send you photos of oliver enjoying some piece of media you're into and act like a proud dad.

you two go to comic con together and get carried away, ending up with wayyy too much merch.

“mark, baby i love you but i don't think we need another signed poster.” you try reasoning with him, only to eat those words back the second he flashes you his sad puppy dog eyes.

you sigh, he really has you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he?

but you have him wrapped around your finger too, because when you look at him like that, asking him to take you to this signing event of your favorite foreign author, he wastes no time in picking you up and flying you wherever you want <3

no matter the time, he just wants to see his sweetheart happy :]

you two are insufferable with your references, sometimes people think you two are talking in some alien language.

rex hears mark on the phone, just who the hell is dante sparda? and why has mark mentioned this name like thirty thousand times in the past half an hour he's been on the phone with you?

as rex said, “you two match each other's freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public.”

“hey babe i got us these matching swords!” he smiles, all happy at four in the morning at your window like it's the most normal thing ever.

you squint a little before making out the sword's design, oh it's from your favorite game.

he doesn't protest in the slightest when you attack him with kisses, this is where he belongs.

he adores movie nights, you two cuddled up on his bed, watching something he loves? he's never been happier.

you two once had to stop making out because the plot got thicker, so you two locked in! even though your lips are swollen and shiny just like his from the shared passion a few minutes ago. he could care less about the next plot hole when you're right here, pressed up against him.

he can't stop staring at your lips, god you're addicting.

he snaps out of it when his favorite character dies though ⁠(⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠∧⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠) aw man.

building legos together! he gets all bashful when you praise him when he finishes a part of the main piece.

reward him with kisses and he'll melt.

he once tried making you pancakes, except he tried to draw one of your favorite characters with the pancake batter. and he's no artist, but he tried his best.

he's now on his 48458th attempt and it's looking like your favorite character….a little….. not really.

he'll just douse them in maple syrup, that makes everything better.

when you question the odd shaped pancakes in your sleepy dazed state, he ends up telling you the truth, embarrassed.

but when you kiss him oh so softly, your kiss far sweeter than any maple syrup, his nervousness melts off until all there's left is you.

you and only you.

you two take those extremely specific uquiz quizes together like "which xyz character would hate you the most" or "who do you kin from xyz"

if he doesn't get his fav when he takes a "which character are you from seance dog" quiz he'll be all :[

"this is rigged." he says, taking another one in hopes of getting his favorite character this time.

going to the sea and painting on the pebbles and rocks with him, he loves watching the sunlight reflect off of your hair, you look like an angel, his angel. and god your eyes-

“hey does this look like eric cartman?” you show him the paintwork on your rock, snapping him out of his lovesick trance.

“babe, why is he on ozempic?” that comment makes you two giggle.

he continues, “should've picked a bigger rock, my love.”

“i saved that one for you….. you know, if we were penguins i would you the shiniest, prettiest rock i could find, which is this one so….” you shift closer to him, placing the pretty rock onto his palm.

he presses a kiss to the side of your head, fiddling with the rock in his hand. “you're adorable.”

he presses a kiss to that same rock when he's away from you on a mission, it grounds him, knowing you're there, waiting for him.

when you two end up moving in together, unpacking things takes less time than decorating your shared room.

hanging posters with him, asking him if they're centred. putting your favorite figurines on the shelves along with your favorite comics, building your own safe haven. the whole room embodies you both so well, anyone who sets foot in this room would instantly be met with a bunch of your and his interests.

his dumbass <3 accidentally ends up leaving one of his figurines on the bed, so when you two are needily making out and grinding, excited that you two wouldn't have to be quiet or keep your voices down — straddling him and pushing him down on the bed, he lets out a small squeal of surprise.

you two stop, looking at each other all 0_0

“sorry, i think-” he starts, reaching behind his back to pull out the culprit of poking him in the back, and surely it was none other than his favorite seance dog figurine, the absurdity of it all is enough to make you chuckle, he laughs sheepishly with you. a little embarrassed that seance dog ruined the sexy atmosphere.

but when you put the figurine on the nightstand, turning it to face the wall, he realizes he's gonna have the best night of his life.

and oh boy was he right :3

#ㅤㅤ✶ㅤ digitald0rk's library !#WHY DOES TUMBLR ALLOW ONLY TEN PHOTOS :((((#invincible #mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #invincible fanfic #invincible fluff #mark grayson fanfic

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tsunodaradio · 2 days ago

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it's not hype, baby ⛐ 𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐

THIS IS: FORMULA ONE, A MILESTONE EVENT 📀 you find yourself featuring a driver in your newest music video.

♫ starring: yuki tsunoda x rockstar!reader. ♫ social media au. ♫ includes: romance, humor. profanity. face claim: beabadoobee. @lilypat requested rockstar by lisa. ♫ commentary box: whenever i get a yuki request, an angel grows its wings 🙂‍↕️ 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

yourusername • 22m ♫ Oasis - Don't Look Back In Anger

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, sabrinacarpenter, and others yourusername PUERTO RICOOO U WERE INSANE 🇵🇷 thanks for comin out to jam with me despite the weather!!! a little bit of rain never scared us anyway 🤘 #YOUtopiaTour

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user1 just one (1) chance pls user2 PH STOP WHENNNNN?! user3 Ayo what is yukitsunoda0511 doing here... ⤷ user4 Yuki Tsunoda indie rock enjoyer YUPPP!!! 🙂‍↕️ user5 hey yukitsunoda0511 what's your favorite yourusername song user6 Come to Brazil before you head to your next stop :(

yourusername • 15m ♫ Vaundy - 踊り子

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, laufey, and others yourusername pit stop (badum-tsss) at são paulo 🐂 it was... how do u say it? simply lovely ;))

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tracksidetea • 3h

Liked by isackhadjar, danielricciardo, and others tracksidetea SPOTTED: yukitsunoda0511 went dune bashing in Dubai... the same time as rock sensation yourusername? 👀 No photos of the two of them together, but these sand-filled snaps were posted a couple of days apart. 🏜️ Coincidence or something more? Discuss!

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user16 i mean yourusername did have a dubai stop for her tour sooo lol user17 Oh they FUCKING fucking user18 Why did Isack & Danny like this 😭😭😭 Messy afff,, ⤷ user19 LIKEEEE. what do u guys know that we don't user20 p sure this doesn't mean a thing. a couple of comments on each other's instagram ≠ dating e/o ⤷ user21 Yuki's not going to date you for saying this btw! Hope that helps! xx

yukitsunoda0511 • 22h ♫ beabadoobee - Real Man

Liked by visacashapprb, jackdoohan, and others yukitsunoda0511 officially ticked "starring in a music video" off the bucket list

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yourusername • 6h

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, oliviarodrigo, and others yourusername day 1 of #YOUtopiaTour in japan!!! much luvvv どうもありがとう 🍣 but i think i might be needing a japanese teacher. got any suggestions ? 👋

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user29 The way we are not even being SUBTLE anymore...... user30 EVERYBODY SCROLL TO THE LAST SLIDE LIKE WDYM YOU BURIED THAT IN A 20-PHOTO DUMP visacashapprb 👀 ⤷ user31 ADMIN TOO?!?!?!?!?!?!?! ⤷ user32 is there another music video in the works. admin blink twice if yes yukitsunoda0511 はい, はい ⤷ user33 Okay sirrr GET THE GIRL ⤷ user34 🍿🍿🍿 ⤷ user35 my fav friendship!! ⤷ user36 user35 denial is a river in egypt. your driver got BITCHES

yukitsunoda0511 posted a story

yourusername • 22h ♫ RM - Tokyo

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, and others yourusername oh we doing hard launches now? i can fuck with that

pierregasly finally ⤷ yukitsunoda0511 🤝 isackhadjar I did NOT know how much longer I could keep my mouth shut. Joyeux anniversaire! yukitsunoda0511 gee thanks ⤷ yourusername happy anniversary baby u know i had to do it to 'em 🙏 yourmanager ???????????????????????????

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 21 hours ago

Text

(Dark!) BNHA: Trying to get you pregnant

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Deku + Shoto

Reaction: An inside view of some moments between the boys and their darling when they're deeply invested in getting you pregnant - willingly or not.

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Captive reader; Implied Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊

–

Hawks

“... none of that, babe, just close your nose and gulp it all the way down.” Keigo’s soft voice does little to help you, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to hold back the contents that attempt to rise up to your mouth.

He patiently stands by your side, holding the cup of the disgusting mix of vitamins, nutritional powders and vegetables, waiting for you to recover from the small sip.

The taste is somehow even worse than the putrid smell, lingering in the corners of your mouth – bitter and repulsive. It takes long minutes before you’re reasonably recovered – after painfully swallowing back the bile that kept rising up your throat.

“C’mon, just a few more sips and it’ll be over quickly, okay? Just pretend this is a soda and trust me, this will go down much easier.” you turn your face away, pursing your lips shut when Keigo pushes the cup closer to your mouth.

“I can’t drink more.”

“Babe, we talked about this.” he sighs. “This is for your own good, to make you healthier and stronger.”

“I’m just fine.” you weakly scoff, pushing his hand away. “And you’re just saying that because you’re not the one drinking this gross thing. It’s seriously awful.”

“Babe…” he starts, wings ruffling behind him, restless. “You know exactly why drinking this is so important.”

“And I already told you – I don’t want a kid. So why bother?” you argue back.

Keigo visibly frowns at that.

“Don’t be like that.” he says. “Of course you want a kid. Maybe not now, but trust me, when our little birdie is born you’re gonna love it.”

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I won’t.”

“You will. And arguing with me won’t let you off the hook.” his tone hardens at that, brows tightening for a moment before Keigo forces himself to relax. “C’mon, just a few more sips, okay? Super tiny sips and I promise it’ll be all for today.”

“Keigo, I can’t, it tastes so bad, I’ll just end up throwing up.” you grab his arm vehemently, begging.

“You’re a strong girl, I’m sure you can hold it all down, right?” he cheers you, immediately pressing the cup back to your lips. You gasp, feeling the sickening content touching your lips.

Keigo doesn’t relent until you finally open your lips, even when your hands attempt to push back the glass away. In the end, it takes the sharp stab of a red-feather against your thigh for you to at last open your mouth and Keigo is eagerly tilting the cup and slipping as much as he can into your throat.

“That my good girl, drinking it all down.”

Your ears barely catch onto his praise as you’re too busy choking, the retching content refusing to slip down your throat and worse, it seems like all of it – including what you had already swollen – is aiming to come to the surface, much to your dismay.

All it takes is one fleeting glance towards the kitchen sink and Keigo is immediately behind you, aggressively tilting your face backwards.

One hand slaps down on your mouth while the other works on pinching your nose shut. Muffled screams and tears are the only reaction you’re able to deliver, unable to push Keigo away.

Fumbling and pushing is futile against his overwhelming strength and your vision starts getting fuzzy, the lack of oxygen getting to your head and you barely realize that you’ve swollen the nasty liquid until Keigo is finally allowing you to breathe again.

“See, I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

Shoto

Slowly scanning the test, it comes back as negative and relief immediately floods you, tense shoulders relaxing at the good news.

But the tension returns just as quickly when Shoto reaches from behind you, retrieving the test to see for himself.

Controlling your face to be neutral is harder than it seems when Shoto’s disappointment switches into cold rage in a heartbeat. His hand angrily presses down on the pregnancy test, crushing it between his fingers before your silent figure catches his attention.

Pressing your arms to your sides and lowering your eyes to the ground do little to calm Shoto's emotions and the tall man walks closer to you until he’s breathing on your hair.

“I’m sorry.” the words escape from your lips, coated with softness.

“Yes, you should be.” he icily glares at you, squinting his two-colored eyes down at you. “It’s been five months since we started trying and there are yet no positive results.”

“I’m sorry.” you repeat.

“Look at me when I’m talking.” Shouto hisses at you, his simmering frustration leaving you uneasy as you reluctantly raise your eyes to meet his monochromatic eyes. “I don’t care about your meaningless apologies. What I want to know is why aren’t you pregnant yet? Care to explain that to me?”

“I don’t know…” you quietly mutter, fingers fidgeting with each other in a nervous tick. “... but I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“Yes, I know that. There are no ways for you to prevent a pregnancy – I made sure of that – but clearly your effort and desire of building a family together is disappointingly low, to say the least.”

If you could, you’d roll your eyes at that, frankly insulted on why would Shoto even think you’d be thrilled to have a child with your kidnapper.

Instead, you shrug your shoulders.

He groans in frustration, hand rubbing all over his face.

“Clearly you don’t desire this child as much as I do. I can’t force you to want a child, I’m aware of that.” he starts, provoking a wince in you when he brings his hand - his cold hand - to cup your cheek a little tighter than usual. “But I’ll be damned if I can’t make you love them. They deserve your love and attention, just as much as I do.”

His eyes burn into you, hot turmoil behind them.

“And then we shall be a perfect family. No matter what I have to do in order to achieve that reality.”

Bakugo

“Bak– Katsuki, can I take a break? I’m tired…” you beg breathlessly, sweat profusely running down your forehead.

Your feet are numb and the muscles of your legs burning with how long you’ve been forced to walk on the treadmill.

Ever since Bakugo cemented the idea of having a baby you haven’t been able to rest for a single minute, constantly terrorized by the man that demands you to exercise following an incredibly demanding and exhausting physical plan.

“And I don’t care. I told you before, the exercise plan has to be followed correctly to get results.” Bakugo sharply reprimands you. “How the hell are you supposed to be healthy and in shape to carry our kid if you can’t even walk the treadmill for 45 minutes, huh?”

You frown at that, sending him a dirty look that he clearly chooses to ignore. Fuck him and fuck the kid. If it’s up to you, he won’t ever get that baby he wants so much.

But much like everything that has been happening, your level of decision is frankly limited.

“You’re almost done with the treadmill anyways. 10 minutes left, that's a piece of cake.” he declares, checking the smartwatch on his wrist before returning his full attention to you. “After that, it’s the 60 push-ups and some light pilates. See? Easy work-out since you’re whiny today.”

You scoff.

“Oh yes, soo easy, thanks a lot.” your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed as Bakugo raises a brow at that.

“Keep bitching and I might add more exercises to it.” he lightly threatens you. Pressing your lips together, you push yourself to keep going and finish the stupid workout.

Bakugo doesn’t give up on pestering you as he leans forward, veiny hands holding onto the handrail and pink lips curling into a smirk.

He looks you up and down, drinking in your figure dressed with a revealing sports bra and tight leggings and his eyes darken with desire.

“Might even create a new special workout exercise just for you.” he rasps out. “Get those legs ready cause I’m gonna make you ride me till I knock you up.”

Deku

“Is this uncomfortable, my love?” he asks, fingers gently tracing random patterns against the slightly wet skin of your legs. Izuku’s messy hair tickles you when he leans to press a few loving kisses over the expanse of your naked stomach.

“Silly question, of course it’s uncomfortable.” he replies to his own question, shaking his head. “But you’re fine with this, right, my love?”

He looks up, sickly smiling at your exhausted figure.

You can’t answer – not with a gag-ball stuffed inside your mouth. You can’t move either – not with your arms rigidly tied to the bed’s headboard.

But what Izuku truly means is the obnoxious position way your legs are being held up into the air, blackwhip rigidly holding them up.

You’re not even certain if the old trick to holding legs in the air is scientifically proven to be accurate, but Izuku has been obsessed with forcing you into such a pose ever since Kaminari confided to him how Jiro got pregnant after a short period of time by doing this trick.

Izuku coos, noticing the clear discomfort on your face.

“Hey, I know, I know. It’s not very cozy, is it?” he apologizes, moving up so that he can hover over your face. His face is glowing, covered by a thin layer of sweat and happiness.

“But just think about it, my love, how all of your little sacrifices are going to be worth it in the end when we finally get to hold our little bundle of joy. Our own sweet baby!”

His eyes glint, unhealthy obsession and delusional love glimmering in those green esmeralds. Izuku looks nothing but personified insanity.

“Oh, I can’t wait!” he reveals blithely, shuffling his body to lay your head on his bicep as he nuzzles your neck. “We’re going to have the cutest babies ever. Even Kacchan will get jealous, I bet.”

You screw your eyes shut but that doesn’t stop a lonely tear from sliding down your cheek. Izuku hums, kissing the tear away.

“You’ll see, my love, we are going to be one big happy family.”

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jaellyfishh · 2 days ago

Text

The Corner Where We Met · Part 2

trope: art teacher!azzi x PE teacher! paige

content warning: initial slowburn, mention of blood, smut

word count: 6K

It was a dry week since Paige and Azzi’s last encounter, after all, the school days required a lot more of their time as the academic year advanced. Fudd had been too busy filling in her colleagues' place in high school art class, who had called off sick from a ‘stomach bug’. This was not a rare occurrence seeing that it would happen multiple times throughout her four years at Moore. Fudd feared Principal Auriemma would be in talks to lay her colleague off soon and she might have to fill in her position for a while before they could find a replacement.

Recruiting was not going so well at Moore as of late. With the exception of our new PE teacher, of course, Azzi thought.

Speaking of Paige Bueckers, she stood well on business having done tremendous changes on the uninteresting routines and archaic equipment of her PE classes, picking up the pieces from where the previous teachers left off. She used the best of her network to outsource companies and connect with sporting organisers, all in the hopes of keeping the kids' curiosity and passion for PE well and alive. And it showed. Their excitement buzzing during every lesson before PE, much to some of the teachers’ dismay.

Prrrrrrt!

The sound of the whistle rang as Paige and the two other teachers beside her stopped the warmups, the crowd of kids now in a stand-still scattered across the gym.

The two-day basketball and volleyball tryouts for Moore’s annual October Sports Day had just begun and the gym has welcomed an influx of what seemed like almost half the school already. The students were in much anticipation over the week, with the participation list for other sports activities which Paige had pinned on their bulletin board even being overflown with scribbles of names past the margin.

“Alright, that was good! Now, listen up! Middle schoolers will go to the left side of the court with Ms. Edwards, high schoolers will go to the right with Ms. Mühl! We’re gonna do a couple of drills - dribbling, passing and shooting! If you don’t play your best, you won’t make it with the rest! Let’s move it!”

Obviously, Paige knew they wouldn't have enough students for a team even if they wanted to weed the worse ones out, but anything to scare them into doing better - as Paige loved to strategise. Her role today was to oversee the entire tryouts, making sure everything was on schedule. She recruited Aaliyah Edwards from Geography and Nika Mühl from History after digging information on their past [having a normal conversation] during their lunch breaks and finding out they played basketball as a hobby.

Principal Auriemma was able to coordinate with his VP, Christine ‘CD’ Dailey, to arrange free periods for the three teachers in the days where tryouts were being held.

And somewhere in the scheduling, Fudd had her free periods aligned with theirs.

A certain curly brunette peeked her head into the gym with curiosity. She could recognise her students from a distance, the faces of the middle school boys and girls smiling while throwing airballs with all their might. Her eyes panned to the blonde observing them, whose head shook in disapproval. Azzi stifled a snicker.

She slowly sneaked her way inside, dodging a few basketballs and turbulent students before she was within arms reach of Bueckers. It seems the taller woman didn’t notice as she was too laser-focused on the mayhem unfolding in front of her, the loudness of the shoes squeaking and basketballs bouncing overstimulating her.

“Hey,” Azzi poked at Paige’s arm, startling her this time. The taller woman’s expression went from displeasure to a softer, surprised smile.

“Ms. Fudd, long time no see. I had to think you’ve been avoiding me,” Bueckers jokes, trying to contain her excitement.

Azzi sweetly scoffed while giving her a stare. “I thought you needed your space, you know, being overwhelmed by all this stalking.”

Bueckers laughed at her satire. “So you finally admit it?”

“They were your words, not mine”. Azzi pointed to the crowd. “How’s it going?”

“It’s…going. They’re doing their best, alright?” Paige scrunched her face as Azzi laughed. “What are you doing here, anyways? Came to see me?”

“Oh, please, don’t start,” Azzi rolled her eyes. “I have a free period until lunch. I figured I could see how my kids were doing. They sounded really excited to participate during class, you know? I think you’re making great changes for them here”

Paige stared at Azzi with a proud smile. “I’m honestly so glad to hear that. If I keep this up, can I expect these kinda visits for the kids more often?

And yet another one of Paige’s flirtatious antics, not that Azzi minded anyways. In fact, she did miss them a fair bit.

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing that?” Fudd smiled at Paige, who was licking her lips as she stared back.

“Depends who I do it to”

As the pair exchanged flirtatious words, distracted in their own world. They didn’t notice a basketball hurling towards them.

“MS. FUDD WATCH OUT!” Ms. Watkins yelled, but it was too late.

Paige couldn’t react quick enough to catch the ball before the momentum struck Azzi smack centre on her face causing her to stumble backwards. In a flash, Beuckers was able to pull her into her chest before she could fall.

Azzi’s face grimaced, her nose painful from both scrunching and relaxing. She was in shock, her expression unreadable as her brain tried to register what had just happened.

“Azzi, are you okay?” Paige softly asked with a sense of urgency, shaking her body only once to wake her senses up.

“I-“

Azzi could only croak before her nose started bleeding.

With widened eyes and a chorus of gasps echoing the gym, Paige immediately whipped out a handkerchief from one of her pockets and pressed it over Azzi’s nose.

“Pinch your nostrils and breathe through your mouth. I’m taking you to the clinic”

And before anyone knew it, the tall blonde swooped Azzi off her feet, carrying her bridal style as the adrenaline rushed through her blood. Paige quickly marched out the doors determinedly, the woman in her arms muffling an ‘I’m so sorry’ before the blonde was quick to dismiss it.

“It’s okay, everyone! Ms. Fudd will be in good hands. Don’t worry!” Was all the pair could hear faintly by Ms. Edwards before they were completely out of everyone’s sight.

Up the front of the hallway near the entrance, Paige frantically knocked on the glass window of the school clinic, the inside of the room blocked by horizontal blinds. As the door swung open, the blonde immediately pushed her way inside. The school’s nurse gasped at the sudden action, watching Bueckers lay Azzi gently upright on the bed, her arms still steadying her upper body.

“Ms. Bueckers? A-Azzi?”

“Nurse Williams, could you grab a pack of ice, please?” A concerned look spread across Paige’s face.

“Of course! Lower her head slightly forward,” The uniformed lady instructed before grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.

The two worked in quick tandem attending to the injured Fudd. And soon after five minutes had passed, the situation stabilised as the bleeding had come to a stop.

“You guys are doing great,” a dazed Azzi could only mumble, wiping her nose clean with a new towel. Paige was seated next to her, her hand growing cold as she pressed the ice pack near her nose bridge, while her other arm wrapped around Azzi’s waist to keep her close.

“Ms. Bueckers, I can take over from here, thank you,” Nurse Williams stood beside them, her hand on Azzi’s back.

“No, I, uh- is it alright if I stay with her?” Paige stuttered.

“Don’t you have to head back to the gym?”

“I just wanna make sure Ms. Fudd’s alright. Don’t worry, Ms. Edwards and Ms. Mühl got me covered,” Paige quickly reasoned.

Conveniently, the bell rang for lunch before Nurse Williams could utter another word. She looked at the door and back to the pair in front of her.

“Alright, sure. I’m going to get lunch for us while you both stay here, okay? Did you guys put yours in the fridge?”

Paige answered with no hesitation. “Mine’s a pastel purple bag. It should be next to Ms. Fudd’s, the bright pink one?”

Nurse Williams raised her eyebrows in amusement before heading out, closing the door behind her.

“I always wondered why my lunch bag had new company, it was you,” Azzi smiled dopily at the blonde.

Paige chuckled, licking her lips. “Yeah, she looked kinda lonely in the cold, you know?”

The pair giggled before Azzi brushed her hand on top of Paige, wanting to hold the ice pack instead.

“Hey, don’t think I didn’t notice you carrying me bridal style all the way down the hall. I honestly didn’t expect it,” Azzi smiled widely.

Paige contorted her face in disbelief. “What, you didn’t think I lift? There’s a reason I teach PE. Besides, you were too light for me.”

“Okay, I dunno if I should take that as a compliment or not. I pride myself in my muscles,” Azzi flexed her free arm, her biceps protruding, evidence that she works out.

“Mmm… yeah, they do look good,” Paige muttered almost too sensually without thinking, her eyes entranced on Azzi’s arm. “Oh,” was all Paige could croak before her eyes widened as she realised what she had blurted out.

Azzi bursted out in laughter. “Did I just make Paige Bueckers flustered?”

“Mmm, no, I don’t think you did,” She quickly shook her head dismissively.

“Aw, you’re turning red,” Azzi teased, her head tilting to the side.

Paige’s cheeks lifted from a sheepish closed smile, the warmth surfacing. “God forbid a woman can’t compliment another woman!”

“Well, no one’s stopping you. I was just…celebrating a li’l.” The curly brunette eased in her hysterics before giving Paige a sly smile, almost seductive. “God forbid a woman can’t tease”.

The blonde’s head twitched. “You always think you can one-up me, do you?”

“I just have unwavering confidence,” Azzi voiced flirtatiously, her eyes hooded.

“Oh yeah? Unwavering, hm…” Paige sighed, her voice low in an almost whisper.

Then she trailed her eyes down to Azzi’s lips. Her touch around Azzi’s waist was electrifying as she pulled her noticeably closer. Fudd’s breath hitched, it was the first time she was in such close proximity to Bueckers; thighs touching, chests almost together, her brown eyes trapped in blue ones in front of her. It took everything in Azzi not to look down at her lips, afraid of what might transpire if she did.

Then she felt a hand on her jaw. It was a gentle touch, Paige’s thumb caressing the side of Azzi’s lips as her eyes danced around them.

“Your dimples kill me, Az,” Bueckers whispered yearningly.

“Paige…” Azzi breathed, their faces inching closer.

The door swung open before the pair could react, Nurse Williams’ eyes widened as she halted in her steps realising what was unfolding before her eyes. The pair scrambled away from each other, almost like a teen couple being caught by a parent.

“Oh, I see. Is this why you didn’t wanna go back to the gym?” the shorter woman rested on one leg in disbelief, hands full of their lunch bags.

“Uh, thanks for bringing our lunch! She’s all good, so…imma head out,” Paige was awkward in her movements, taking her lunch bag from Nurse Williams before exiting the clinic.

The two remaining ladies just stared at the door for several seconds before they turned their heads to each other.

“Azzi. Explain yourself,” the older woman was stern.

“Kayla, not now…” Azzi groaned, leaning back on the bed, her arms propping her up.

Williams took a seat next to her, the corner of her lips tugging upwards. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you guys…?”

“It’s nothing, dude. Now, hand me my lunch bag,” Fudd reached over to Kayla, but her colleague retracted her arm away.

“Girl, that did not look like nothing. Y’all were making out in my office!” Kayla grinned widely, she was more so happy than disappointed.

Azzi’s eyes widened. “We were not! You came in before anything could happen, anyways”.

“Oh, so what you’re saying is I cockblocked y’all- OW!” The older girl winced, rubbing her arm where Azzi smacked it.

“Can you not? I’ve already had enough of KK and Caroline teasing me about it, I don’t need a third person,” Azzi successfully snatched her lunch bag from Kayla.

“GASP, so KK and Car knows, but not me? I thought we were friends,” Kayla frowned in exaggeration.

“Okay, fine, but you’re not missing out on anything,” Azzi sighed, defeated. “I bumped into her on her first day. You can say she was very… charming. Maybe we flirted a little bit. And now I might have a tiny crush on her- ew, I sound just like our kids”.

Kayla squealed. “No, no, this is great, Azzi! I mean, she’s totally your type-“

“I should never voice out my business to anyone ever again”

“Oh, shush. So, what, are y’all just…flirting with each other?”

“I guess you can say it’s a mutual understanding”

“Well, have y’all talked outside of school, at least?”

“It’s only been two weeks, but no…” Azzi trailed.

“Mm, too slowburn in my books. You do know it’s only gonna get busier in the coming weeks, right? I don’t think giving each other horny stares across the hall is gonna get you guys anywhere”

Azzi scoffed as she raised her arms up before dropping them, a gesture of being fed up by the sexual remarks she’s had so far about her and Paige.

“We don’t need to get anywhere, I’m fine where we are”

“Lying through your teeth right in front of me? That’s a new low even for you. Listen, Azzi, I’m your wingwoman. I’m gonna get you guys right”

“Mm,” Azzi, ever-the-more frustrated, just stared at her friend to continue.

“We’re going to Bar Lobo. This Friday night. You, me, KK, Nika, and Aaliyah - the five-star recruits of Moore. Get Car too ‘cause she’s one of us, obviously. Then, you’re gonna invite Paige as well. Be natural, be flirty about it. Then, um… we’ll figure it out as we go along,” Kayla waved her hands dismissively.

Azzi stared at her friend disappointedly. “You make care plans better than this”.

“Ouch,” was all Kayla could say.

However, Fudd wasn’t totally against the idea. She knew between teaching her middle school art classes and writing up a new lesson plan for the high schoolers, it would be difficult to see Paige more frequently. And if there’s one thing Azzi will to admit, it’s that she is very curious to see Paige in normal attire.

—

It was a Wednesday afternoon after school and Azzi found herself at the entrance of the gym again, her fingers fiddling on the strap of her bag as she quietly entered. Within her peripherals, she saw the familiar blonde buried in her clipboard, her back towards the curly brunette.

“I thought I might find you here,” Fudd voiced softly, the blonde turning around with a surprised look.

“Well, fitting for a PE teacher, don’t you think?” Bueckers played along, the side of her lips tugging upwards. “You’ve been surprising me lately”.

“How’d tryouts go?” Azzi deflected as she stared at the clipboard, scribbles of names filling the entire canvas of the paper.

“Really good, actually,” Paige exhaled, “The kids were very…passionate. They’re gonna have fun on Sports Day, I’m gonna make sure of it”.

“I’m sure they already do,” Fudd couldn’t help but melt at her determination, the potential she sees in the kids reflecting her own.

“How’s your nose?” Paige ask while pointing at it,

“Not broken, thank God,” Azzi sighed with a smile.

The pair stood in silence waiting on who would start first, Bueckers nibbling on her lips while Azzi continued fiddling on her bag strap.

“Azzi, about earlier-“

“I didn’t get to say thank you, by the way,” Azzi interjected, her heart pumping. One can’t help but think she was self-sabotaging here, almost as if she was holding herself back from something.

Paige gave a simple smile. “Is that the only reason you came all the way down here?” she looked at Fudd with a mix of need and curiosity, who went back to fiddling on her bag strap.

“I- I also wanted to know if you wanted to join myself and a few of the teachers this Friday night? At Bar Lobo. I figured it’d be great to get to know the other teachers outside of school, you know, team building or what not,” the curly brunette rambled on, her heart almost racing.

Bueckers was caught off guard, uncertain with how to react with the sudden information, something she didn’t expect.

“Yeah, I guess that’d be nice, get to know the teachers,” She rationalised. “I do have to give a disclaimer, though. I don’t exactly drink”.

Azzi was light-heartedly shocked, her eyebrows furrowed as she smiled. “Sorry, I just thought you’d be someone who’d love to unwind with a drink on the weekends”.

The blonde chuckled. “I can’t blame you. A lot of people assume I enjoy my liquor, but…”. Her face winced slightly. “I don’t exactly have great memories with it”.

Azzi widened her eyes, a wave of guilt rushed through her as she held her hand. “Paige, I’m so sorry for even suggesting this, I-“

“No, no, you’re good. I don’t drink, but I can still enjoy the company. I’m easy, don’t worry,” The blonde rubbed her hand on Azzi’s arm.

There was something about the domesticity within their movements that reintroduced the tension in the air around them.

Paige smirked before continuing. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna miss the opportunity of seeing your reaction when I wear my going out clothes”.

Azzi’s scoffed. “Okay, you’re making me sound like a creep”. Paige chuckled.

“You know I’m only messing with you, Az,” Paige stepped closer staring intensely at the shorter girl.

Azzi’s head twitched, her eyes tracing the face in front of her. “I’ve never heard you call me by my nickname before, but you make it sound so…natural.”

“Hmm, I guess everything’s natural when it comes to you,” Paige hummed.

Before they could inch their face any closer, the screeching sounds of rusted wheels echoed throughout the gym.

“Don’t you ladies know you need to clear out after school?” The janitor had yelled by the entrance.

The pair stumbled backwards in an attempt to detach themselves from their proximity, their movements ever the more awkward.

“I’ll see you later”

“Catch you in a bit”

They said their farewells simultaneously as Azzi walked out in a hurry while Paige went to gather her bags.

—

“Azzi! Car! Right here!" Arnold yelled from across the room, her hands waving erratically to catch the pair’s attention. The girls sat on the round table, carved around with leather seats, their usual Watermelon Splash jug in the centre surrounded by small trays of food.

It was alive and loud at Bar Lobo, a bar club with a DJ mixer, the place famously known for their cocktail jugs and music. It was a spot the group of friends at Moore frequent every Friday night to wind down and catch up. Tonight was just like any other night, the blaring sound of 2000s to 2020s R&B remixes enveloping the venue, the centre stage lightly filled with drunk employees celebrating after their 9-5’s, and the tables fully occupied with large jugs of alcohol with adults ready to start their weekend.

Azzi and Caroline approached the table, the girls greeting them ‘Ooo’s’ and ‘Damn’s’. The curly brunette blushed.

Fudd wore jean shorts with a few rips in the bottom, paired with a tightly fitted pink cropped tank top. Her outfit hugged her curves in all the right places, her exposed muscles making it known that she works outs five times a week. Her hairstyle, corn rows across her crown halfway tied in pink, leading out to her natural type 3 curls.

“Damn, Az, who are you stealing tonight?" Nika exclaimed while staring Fudd up and down.

“I may have an idea or two,’ Kayla sang teasingly. The rest of the group snickered, except for Edwards.

“Wait, y’all know something I don’t?" Aaliyah furrowed her brows at the ladies as Azzi sighed in defeat, taking a seat next to her at one end of the curved booth.

Caroline smiled. “You’ll see".

Nika rolled her eyes playfully at Aaliyah who sat across her. "Lili, are you slow?”

"Excuse me?” Edwards gasped before throwing a fry at her.

“Speaking of, where's our PE teacher? I can’t believe she’s this late!” KK exasperated, taking a sip from her glass.

“It's only been ten minutes, relax,” Kayla defended before her eyes turned to look at the new movement by the entrance. "Well, speaking of the devil”.

And just then everyone's attention turned to where Kayla stared.

Azzi’s gulped, her muscles tensed.

There stood Paige, her height dominating over everyone around her. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down with two strands falling on either side of her face. She wore all black; a short black unbuttoned blouse with a black crop top underneath, her pants were baggy and low enough to expose the grey hem of her boxer shorts.

Damn, Azzi thought.

“Paige! Over here!” KK’s boisterous voice yelled again, her arms waving.

Paige smiled sheepishly before making her way past the crowds and waiters, Azzi’s heart couldn't race any faster, unsure if she was excited or dreading for her to come closer.

As soon as she was fully in everyone's sight, the same chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ and ‘Damn’s’ rang anong them as they all looked at her abs.

Azzi was shocked. Her six-pack was very pronounced, the lights of the venue casting a perfect shadow on them. Maybe Fudd really didn't expect Paige to have that much muscle in her, given she does look more lean underneath her PE uniform.

“Are y’all just gonna stare at my abs or will any of you scoot over?" Paige laughed as no one in the table realised they hadn't exactly moved one bit.

Kayla was the first to laugh in response before asking Nika to shuffle closer, making a space right across Azzi.

Before Paige took her seat, she gave a quick glance at Azzi, eyeing her up and down before biting her cheeks. She couldn’t help but notice Azzi’s eyes were now wandering elsewhere, avoiding eye contact at all cost, her jaws slightly clenched.

“Alright, Paige, I gotta give it to you. You're probably the best dressed here, I think everyone can agree,” KK confessed, the group nodding their heads while Azzi sucked on her cheeks.

"Oh, I dunno about that,” Paige smiled before grabbing a fry, her eyes shifting to Azzi. “Do you think so, Azzi?

The curly brunette was caught off guard, whipping her head to finally face her. Bueckers grinned as she was finally able to catch her attention, nonchalantly munching on a fry as she stared Azzi down.

“Uh, yeah, definitely. You look good, Paige,” Fudd said almost stoically, giving her a quick glance turning to her drink to sip on. The blonde kept grinning as she chewed in triumph.

The other girls in the booth just gave each other a side eye. Aaliyah’s mouth opened while slowly nodding at Caroline beside her, her brain finally clicking.

“Here,” KK interjected. “It’s Bar Lobo’s signature Shirley Temple. Azzi told us you don’t drink- Actually, no, it was more like she demanded, ‘Paige doesn’t drink so you better not push her like you always do to me, blah blah blah’. So, we ordered this for you instead,” KK mocked before sliding the pinkish-red drink towards Paige.

“Did she now? Well, that’s really sweet of you, Azzi,” Bueckers leaned forward with folded arms resting on the table, persistent in trying to elicit a response from her.

The curly brunette gave a quick death stare at Arnold. “Gotta look out for your friends, right?” she said with gritted teeth as looked back at Paige, who was nodding in amusement.

In any other setting, Azzi would’ve toyed with Paige’s flirtatious antics, trying to outcompete her. But the fact that they were being witnessed by her friends was holding her back.

“Alright, alright, alright, y’all! A shot to Ms. Bueckers for being Moore’s newest number one recruit of 2028! Thank you for your service thus far!” Kayla commemorated as she raised her shot glass, everyone roaring as their glasses clinked.

The night went on as the girls downed their drinks, the alcohol slowly spreading through their systems as the girls grew giddy. Azzi was lucky in that front, her tolerance being the highest among them, even if she had chugged half the jug. It wasn’t so much a gift, but more so something that developed during her last breakup.

As she watched her friends introduce their outside lives to Paige a little, Azzi couldn’t help but grow soft knowing the blonde was integrating well into a part of her life. Then, at some point amidst the tangled conversations, Caroline wanted to have a go at getting to know her roommate’s crush a bit more, asking a string of ambiguous questions like a parent interrogating their daughter’s new partner, trying to sus her out.

“So, Paige, do you cook? Cooking’s important, don’t you think? Important for self-development, creative nutrition, or for, like, when you wanna surprise your partner after a long day of work…” Caroline rambled on, the alcohol hitting her harder as the weaker tolerator of the group. Azzi nudged her best friend’s thigh trying to wake her sense up.

Paige could only chuckle. “Ah, yeah, I can cook a bit. I had to learn since living on my own”.

“Hmm, good, yep. Sooo…do you have a partner?” Ducharme asked as she was losing inhibition. Azzi hissed at her like a warning.The curly brunette couldn’t help but feel nervous, her leg starting to shake in anxiousness over the answer of the question.

“No, not currently,” Paige replied as she sipped on her Shirley Temple.

“Do you want to have a partner?”

It was unlike Paige to freeze in this instance. The front she’s been putting up always seemed like she would have a witty answer ready on-hand, but she remained silent for several seconds this time, her brain searching for a response.

As Azzi stared in anticipation, a familiar song came on causing the other girls to sing aloud.

“OH, LET’S MAKE IT TO THE MORNIN’, GIRL”

The five ladies giggled at their own sudden uniformity before getting up from their seats.

“Guys, c’mon, we gotta get out there!” Nika encouraged as she tried to push Paige out her seat.

Conveniently, her and Azzi were at both ends of the booth, having no choice but to make way for their friends. So as soon as they both got up, the girls scrambled their way out and onto the stage where many people were now gathered – it had reached the peak of the evening.

The pair were now left standing across from each other shaking their heads while laughing, almost shocked by their friends’ sudden outburst.

And before Azzi knew it, Paige had reached out her hand.

“C’mon”

The shorter girl pursed her lips before taking her hand and being led all the way to the main floor. Paige was walking backwards, not wanting to pry her sight away from the woman in front of her, while all Azzi could do was blush at the attention.

As soon as they got inside the crowd, Paige spun Azzi around, making her laugh. Then she timely snaked her hands on the curly brunette’s waist before she could face her, and pulled her closer. Azzi’s breath hitched as she now stared at the blue eyes in front of her.

“Don’t scream or shout, I’m workin’ my way down”

Naturally, Azzi’s arms travelled up to Paige’s shoulders before clasping her hands together behind her neck, their eyes never leaving each other as Paige licked her lips. Their bodies swayed to the rhythm of the song, touching on each other intimately as their eyes filled with a certain lust. Paige leaned over to Azzi’s ear.

“You look good, by the way”

“Hmm, I guess you don’t look too bad yourself,” Azzi teased, trying not to give Paige all the satisfaction just yet.

"Oh, so now you can look me in the eyes? What happened back there?" the blonde inched her fave closer, trying to challenge her.

"Shut up," Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, tilting her head aa stared at Paige through her lashes.

The blonde just gave a hooded smile.

The music was intoxicating, erotic. In the height of the tension, Azzi had spun herself around this time, her back was now against Paige’s chest. Fudd was fueled by the liquor as she seductively slid her hands down Paige’s own and guided them forward, the blonde’s palms grazing over Azzi’s lower pelvis. It elicited a breathy moan from both women as their bodies touched closer.

“The shit I did last night, I’m not proud of“

Slow grinding on each other, the blonde’s breath padded onto Azzi’s neck, sending electrical waves down her spine. They were feeling up on each other’s bodies, absolutely relishing in it. Their movements overwhelmed Paige, but in a good way, like she was getting drunk on the feeling. The scent of her vanilla perfume mixed with Paige’s jasmine musk hypnotising each other. And at that moment, she lowered her head next to Azzi’s ear.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Paige muttered.

Azzi smiled in a daze, her head tilting to almost face the taller girl. “Mmm, I have my guesses”.

“I don’t wanna fight with ya, tryna end my night with ya”

Fudd continued to grind her ass a bit harder onto Paige’s front as the bass of the music pounded, gripping Paige’s hands tighter causing the older girl to sink her face deeper into the crook of Azzi’s neck. The blonde was desperate, her breathing erratic as her lips closed in on her skin.

Letting the feeling take over, Paige started kissing on Azzi’s neck.

”Mmm,” The younger girl moaned, imperceptible from the deafening sounds around them.

The wetness of it was addictive everytime Paige’s tongue brushed her skin, slowly making out with it. The blonde took pleasure in the effect she had on the curly brunette. Soon after, Azzi lifted her hand to gently grab Paige’s head, pushing it a fraction closer into her neck. Her actions were needy as she got turned on. Then the blonde started sucking and biting lightly, almost wanting to give her hickies but was unsure if Azzi wanted them.

The younger girl furrowed her brows. She was entranced with the feeling, but she wanted more. But ‘more’ was not meant for where they stood dancing.

Azzi turned her head towards the blonde’s face.

“Paige, let’s go somewhere,” Azzi whispered enough for her to hear.

Then Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand and led the way this time. The taller girl looked like she was knocked senseless, her lips red and moist as she mindlessly followed the woman in front of her. As they pushed through the crowd, they finally reached a secluded hallway leading up to the toilets at the end.

Azzi tugged her hand forward, she swung the door open so quickly, revealing an empty toilet. How convenient, Azzi thought.

She marched them over to the last stall, tucking themselves in the corner as far away as possible. Once they entered, Paige locked the door behind them.

And just then, their movements slowed down. The muffled bass of the music playing in the background as they stared intensely at each other.

It was only the two of them now.

Paige moved past Azzi without saying a word before she took a seat on the lidded toilet seat, her eyes never leaving the brunette’s even once. Then, with her long arms, she reached to grab Azzi’s waist again, pulling her onto her lap.

“Sit here,” Her voice low, almost husky.

Azzi let out a breath before straddling herself onto Paige’s lap. The sound of their breaths along with the feeling of her long fingers gripping her waist to steady her drove Azzi insane.

Paige was taking it all in as her thumbs rubbed on Azzi’s abs; the way the curly brunette’s muscular arms wrapped around her neck, while her moist thighs brushed against the blonde’s own waist.

“You feel so good, Az,” Paige looked up, her voice needy while her hands rubbed on the younger girl’s waist.

Azzi whispered as she leaned closer. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

And just then, Paige crashed her lips onto Azzi’s, letting out their most breathy moans through their noses. The mouths moved with hunger, passion. The feeling of Fudd’s plump lips on her own was everything she ever imagined. Not like it was something Paige frequently thought about, but something her mind desired everytime Azzi gave her a dimpled smile during school.

As they wrapped around each other tightly, their hands were groping almost chaotically as if they couldn’t get enough of the other’s skin.

“Mmm,” Azzi let out. The kiss was getting more sloppy, the wetness addictive as they introduced their tongues. High on the feeling, Azzi instinctively started to grind her hips in a circle over Paige’s core, moaning in her ear as she did so.

“Oh, fuck,” was all the blonde could breathe out in between their tantalising make out session.

The blonde’s hands instinctively trailed down to grab Azzi’s ass, securing her as she pulled her closer. Their quaint moans grew more and more erratic and apparent. Just as their bodies were reaching the heat of the climax, Azzi’s phone vibrated, a loud iPhone ringtone blasting loudly, causing the pair to jolt.

The sound continued to ring, slowly bringing them back to reality.

“Shit, sorry,” Azzi muttered as she detached their lips, realising it was her phone. Paige, in her disheveled state, looked at the woman in front of her in a trance. Not exactly mad at the break off as she was still high from her lips, her thumbs caressing her ass.

“Hello?”

“Azzi, where are you?” It was Kayla, her voice loud trying to speak over the music behind her. “Car and Nika aren’t feeling too well. We might need to call it a night, it’s already past 2am, anyways. Is that okay?”

The curly brunette’s eye widened as she looked at her phone to check the time. 2:20am.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, um, can you call for an Uber?”

“Of course. Have you seen Paige?” in her sober mind, Williams would’ve expected the two to have scurried away together somewhere, but she was too exhausted from carrying Caroline on her shoulder to think.

Azzi gave Paige a quick glance. “I’ll go get her. Be there soon, babe”.

The shorter girl got off of Paige’s lap. She bit her lip trying to stifle a smile as she looked at the state she left Paige in, her hair messy while her lips were swollen red and shiny from Azzi’s pink lip gloss.

“What happened?” was all the blond could croak, her expression growing concerned.

Azzi sighed. “Let’s just say Nika and Car got white girl wasted.”

Paige chuckled before getting up, slightly towering over Azzi even though they were of similar height. They stared into each other’s eyes in curiosity.

Then Azzi raised her hand near Paige’s mouth, her thumb wiping off some of the gloss surrounding her lips. The pair giggled. It was cute, their movements as domestic as it could get.

Paige grinned. “Looks good on me, no? You should wear it more often”

Azzi scoffed in disbelief at the comment, pushing Bueckers backwards before she opened the stall’s door and made her way out.

The blonde was cheesing, her head nodding lightly as she prided herself on the remark.

“Stop smiling and get your ass outta there!” was all Paige could hear before Azzi fully left the toilet. Paige let out her deepest sigh, absolutely drunk on Azzi’s touch, before following suit.

#pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd

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scribblesofagoonerr · 1 day ago

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sunflowers & strawberry kisses | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: buddy and monkey spend the day with lia, kim and stina while leah is having a bad day with an endo flare-up. what better to do than distract the kids with sunflowers and strawberry picking? but it's not always as simple when double trouble are involved

double the trouble masterlist

massive thank you to both @wosov, @lvnleah and @alotofpockets for the help with this one... it's been in the drafts for a while so it's about time it's out there for you all now!'for the help with this one... it's been in the drafts for a while so it's about time it's out there for you all now!

“Girls, Auntie Kimmy and Auntie Wally are here!” Leah calls aloud, shuffling on her feet as she walks to open the front door, clutching hold of her stomach in pain, “Hiya, Kim. Hiya, Wally. How’re you both doin’?”

“Hiya, Le,” Kim is the first to wrap her free arm around the taller girl, “I’m doin’ alright, how’re you feelin’?” She questions, concerned.

“Bit sore, but the meds are making it more bearable,” Leah explains, trying to mask her pain.

“Hey, Le,” Lia smiles, gently extending both her arms around her best friend, “What’re you doin’ up? You should be lying down and resting. We could have used the spare key…”

“It’s alright, I’m doin’ better than I was earlier,” Leah waves her best friend off, shutting the front door behind the two women, “Do either of you want a cuppa?”

“Yes, please,” Kim agrees with the blonde.

Lia nods in agreement, “I’ll make them if you want, Le? You should be taking it easy today.”

Leah nods, shuffling back into the kitchen as she flicks the kettle on, before settling back on the bar stool and allowing Lia to take over making the hot drinks, “I know the girls wouldn’t be no bother with the way I feel, but thanks for taking them out today. I think they’re both quite excited about it.”

“It’s not a problem, we’ve both been quite looking forward to it,” Kim tells the blonde, “Lia has planned for us to go strawberry picking.”

“Yeah, there’s strawberries and sunflowers as well,” Lia adds, reaching for three mugs out of the kitchen cupboard.

“Oh, that does sound like a lot of fun,” Leah hums in agreement, resting her hand over her stomach as she winces, “I know that Buddy will love that, for sure!”

“Le, do you want me to make you a hot water bottle?” Lia offers, noting Leah's expression, “It might help a bit ease the pain.”

“Please, if you don’t mind,” Leah winces as the pain floods through her, “I think this one’s gonna be bad.” She mumbles in realisation.

“Right,” Kim begins to speak, “Why don’t you go lay back down on the sofa, and tuck yourself up with a blanket, Lia can make you a hot water bottle, and bring it through to you?” She offers.

“What about the girls?” Leah asks, wearily.

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine,” Lia reassures her best friend, finishing off making the hot drinks and stirring the teaspoon in the mug, “Speaking off which, it’s quiet. Should we find that a bit suspicious?” She wonders, placing two of the drinks in front of Kim and Leah.

As if on cue, loud shouting erupts from upstairs.

“Gimme dat back. It mine!” The shrill of Buddy’s tiny voice rings out.

“Nah, it’s not. It’s mine, shrimp!” You retort, your tone fiery.

“Oh for god sake. Just one day,” Leah groans, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Girls, what’s going on up there?”

Kim chuckles knowingly, “Spoke too soon.”

Before Leah can respond, the three-year-old whirlwind barrels into the kitchen, her Lightning McQueen toy car clutched in one hand.

“Auntie Kimmy!” Buddy squeals, launching herself into Kim’s arms and peering up at her with a lopsided grin on her face.

“Hello, troublemaker,” Kim chuckles, settling the three-year-old on her lap, “How’re you doing today?”

“Good!” Buddy beams, “We goin’ out?”

“We are, yeah,” Kim confirms, smoothing a hand over Buddy’s curls, “Are you excited?”

“Uh huh,” The three-year-old nods, resting her head on Kim’s shoulder.

The peace is short-lived as you hobble into the kitchen, your mischievous grin plastered firmly in place, “Tiny! Wallaby! You’re here!”

Leah’s sharp look stops you in your tracks, “One word,” she warns, holding up her tea mug meaningfully.

“Oh, come on…” You groan, already knowing where this is going, “Listen, I know what yer’ gonna say and I would use them but you see, you know I find them well annoying half the time, and I’m only taking the trip to here from upstairs, so it’s fine, innit?”

“Don’t care,” Leah interrupts firmly, “I’ve told you before, you need to use them.”

“Yeah but–” You start to trail off.

“No buts,” Leah cuts you off, her tone final, “If you don’t, your ankle won’t heal. You know this, Monkey. You have to be careful!”

“Oh, spare me the lecture,” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Leah continues to fix you with a firm look, “Go get them, now.”

“Fine!” You huff dramatically, turning to stomp upstairs, “Whatever.”

“She’s a handful,” Lia chuckles as your grumbling fades.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Leah exhales a sigh, leaning back against the stool, “You two are saints for offering to take them both today.”

When you return–begrudgingly, crutches in hand–you haven’t lost your attitude, “Happy now?” You grumble, tossing them onto the floor.

Leah raises a brow, her patience thinning, “Don’t leave them on the floor like that. Pick them up before someone trips.”

You sigh, but obey, leaning the crutches against the counter, “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Kim says, her tone teasing.

“It’s a surprise,” Lia adds, taking a sip of her tea.

You frown, clearly unimpressed, “Ah come on. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Alright, you two,” Lia says, shaking her head, “Go get your shoes, or we’ll not end up getting anywhere at this rate.”

Buddy groans dramatically, sliding off Kim’s lap, “Auntie Kimmy, I don’ know where m’ shoe is!”

Kim crouches down to her level, “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s find it. Where did you last see it?”

“I don’ know!” Buddy flails her arms for added effect, clutching her Lightning McQueen toy in one hand, “I’ take McQueen wif’ us?”

“Of course, you can,” Kim agrees, reaching down to help her, “Now, let’s hunt down that missing shoe, okay?”

You follow, grumbling as you adjust your crutches, “She’s lost her shoes again? I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

Lia chuckles, shaking her head, “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I-Don’t-Need-Crutches.’”

“Me? Nah, you know I’m innocent!” You shot back with a grin, earning laughter from Kim as she ruffled Buddy’s curls, “Good luck trying to find it. She’s probably lobbed it down the back of the sofa.”

“I’m bored,” You huffed, slumping back into your seat, arms crossed dramatically over your chest.

Kim sighed, glancing at you in the rear-view mirror, “Monkey, we’ve been in the car for ten minutes.”

“Exactly! Ten whole minutes!” You exclaimed in a dramatic tone of voice.

Lia turned in her seat to give you a knowing smile, “We’ll be there soon, little one. It’s not going to be that long.”

“To you, maybe,” You groaned, “But I am literally wasting away here,” You let your head loll back against the seat, “I might die of boredom. What a tragedy.”

“It’s not a tragedy. It’s a car ride,” Kim replied dryly, clearly debating whether she regretted bringing you along.

Buddy, however, was having the time of her life, bouncing in her car seat, “We ‘ere? We ‘ere yet?”

“Almost,” Kim said, sparing a quick glance at the satnav.

“Ooooh, ‘ere soon!” Buddy squealed, swinging her legs, “I so ‘cited!”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a dramatic huff, “S’just some stupid berries.”

“Pickin’ berries, pickin’ berries!” Buddy sang happily.

Kim smiled, “That’s the spirit, Buddy! We’re going to have so much fun picking them, aren’t we? You need to cheer your big sister up–she’s a bit moody right now.”

“Not my spirit,” You mumbled, slumping further into your seat, “My spirit is tired… and broken.”

Kim threw you a look in the mirror, “Your spirit is dramatic, is what it is.”

Buddy, on the other hand, was delighted, “We ‘ere yet? We ‘ere yet?” She chirped, kicking her feet against the seat.

“Almost,” Kim answered with forced patience.

“Pick strawbies?” Buddy beamed up at her.

“Yes, Buddy, we’re going to pick strawberries,” Lia said kindly, watching your little sister bounce excitedly in her car seat, “Doesn’t that sound like fun, right, Monkey?”

“Oh yeah, I can’t wait for the plants and bugs and… work,” You retorted sarcastically with mock enthusiasm, “That sounds like a whole bunch of fun.”

“You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to,” Kim pointed out.

“Don’t you have a phone to distract yourself with?” Lia turned to face you with a knowing look, “Why don’t you text Kyra?”

You slumped even further, dramatically pressing a hand to your forehead, “Kyra’s in Paris at the Olympics, remember? I’m lost without my sidekick!”

“Kyra will be back soon,” Lia reassured you, “You’re not lost, little one.”

Kim glanced at you in the rear-view mirror, exhaling a sigh, “I feel like I’m having déjà vu here.”

You stared out the window, counting the trees as they blurred past. Then, inspiration stuck, “Did you know that penguins can swim up to 7 miles per hour?”

The shift was so sudden that Lia blinked in confusion, “Oh? That’s fascinating.”

“Yeah and did you know they don’t have teeth?” You leaned forward, animated now, “But they do have spines inside their beaks and on their tongues to help them hold onto prey and swallow.”

Lia hummed, “That’s interesting, little one.”

Kim shook her head, “Where do you even find this stuff?”

“Oh, I was bored so I Googled random facts about penguins when I was meant to be doing something else,” You retorted, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, “It was more interesting!”

“That makes so much sense,” Lia murmured, amused.

You grinned, leaning forward in your seat again, “Do you want to hear some more? Apparently–”

“I think that’s enough penguin facts for now,” Kim cut in, “How’s the rehab on your ankle coming along?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “Oh, it’s so borin,’ Kimmy! It’s so repetitive, just the same thing every day–how did Le cope with this? It’s horrible! I just want to be back on the pitch already! It’s so stupidly long and gruelling!”

“I regret asking the question now,” Kim mumbled.

“I know it’s hard,” Lia said gently, “But you’ll be back before you know it. You just have to think positively about this.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Yeah, sure, that’s easier said than done.”

“You just have to keep your chin up, Monkey,” Kim added, slowing down as she approached a set of traffic lights, “And if anything, this will teach you to not mess about on skateboards, eh?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Buddy kicked her legs against the seat, her whole body practically vibrating, “We ‘ere?”

“Almost there, little miss,” Kim chuckled.

“I so ‘cited!” Buddy beamed, wriggling like she couldn’t contain it.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in realisation, “I got another penguin fact–”

“Monkey,” Kim warned.

“Just one more! They’re great divers and can swim up to 1,740 feet deep. That's like, so cool, ain’t it?”

“I think you need to find a new hobby,” Lia teased, “Weren’t you learning the guitar?”

“I tried and failed,” You admitted, slumping your shoulders, “It’s harder than it looks, you know?”

“Oh I bet that Leah was thrilled to have wasted her money on that guitar then,” Kim joked, knowing full well how happy the blonde was about you giving up so quickly.

“Well, let’s just say she’s not very happy about it,” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

Kim pulled into the car park, “Alright, we’re here!”

Buddy squealed, clapping her hands, “We ‘ere!”

“Finally,” You let out a dramatic sigh, but when you went to open the car door and swing your legs out, Kim’s voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Scottish woman asked with a pointed look.

You blinked, “Um. Out of the car?”

“Not without your crutches,” Kim reminded you.

You groaned, “Kimmy, it’s grass. Nice, soft, cushiony grass. Why do I need ‘em? I’ll be fine!”

“Crutches,” Kim repeated, crossing her arms.

You huffed, crossing your arms stubbornly, “But I don’t wanna use ‘em!”

Kim simply raised an eyebrow, “One…”

You scowled, but she didn’t falter.

“Two… If I get to three, I’m phoning Leah.”

Your eyes widened slightly as she reached for her phone, “Ugh, fine, fine!” You muttered, throwing your head back in frustration but begrudgingly grabbed them, “No fair at all. I don’t need the stupid things!”

“Yes you do, little one,” Lia told you, patting you on your shoulder as she helped unbuckle Buddy out of her car seat, “Out you get then, little miss. Let’s go pick some strawberries!”

Buddy took the help out of the car and hopped down, her eyes suddenly going wide in amazement as she caught sight of the sandpit, “Auntie Wally! Ook! Der sand!”

“Oh yeah, I do see,” Lia said, following her gaze.

“I play in it,” Buddy said determinedly.

Lia furrowed her brow, looking ahead to the fields of strawberries, “Do you not want to pick strawberries first?”

Buddy scrunched her nose, “No berry! Sand bettah!”

“How about you play in the sandpit after you’ve picked some strawberries?” Lia tried to bargain, “There’s sunflowers to see as well.”

“Sand, Auntie Wally!” Buddy insisted, not budging one bit as she tried to tug impatiently at Lia’s hand, “I wan’ play in sand!”

Lia sighed, running her hand through her hair, “After we pick some yummy strawberries, you can play, okay?”

“No! Now!” Buddy whined, not understanding why she couldn’t play in the sand first.

“Buddy…” Kim began to speak.

The toddler stomped her foot and dramatically threw herself onto the grass in front of her, kicking her feet, “NOW!”

You let out a low whistle as you leaned on one crutch, “Bet you guys didn’t think you’d have to deal with a Buddy meltdown today, huh?”

“Not now, Monkey,” Kim muttered, already pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Buddy–”

“Come on, little miss,” Lia crouched to Buddy’s height to try and reason with her, “I know you want to play in the sand, but won’t it be fun to do that afterwards, yeah?”

Buddy, however, was having none of it as she wailed louder and flailed her arms on the grass, “No! I wan’ play in the sand now!”

“Buddy, listen…” Kim began to speak.

“No! Ou’ don’ understand! I hafta play now!” Buddy declared, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot for emphasis.

“Oh look, there’s Stina!” You turned your attention away from your little sisters’ meltdown to notice the tall blonde heading over your way, “Stina Stina Ballerina!” You spotted the woman.

Stina turned at the call, smiling as she approached with a smile, “Hello, Monkey.”

“What’s happenin’ Stina Ballerina?” You grinned at the tall blonde.

“Are you going to keep calling me that all day?” Stina questioned, curiously.

“Eh, probably. I mean if you don’t like that, I could try Stina Ribena, maybe?” You offered with a cheeky grin.

Stina huffed, shaking her head, “No, no–Stina Ballerina is fine.”

“Good choice!” You beamed a wide smile.

Meanwhile, the three-year-old had sprinted to the sandpit–where her tantrum escalated. She stomped, screamed, grabbed a clump of sand and threw it.

“Buddy, stop throwing sand,” Lia warned.

Kim rubbed her temples to keep her calm, “Buddy, listen–”

A handful of sand sailed through the air–right into Stina’s eye.

You snorted in amusement, “Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Kim exhaled sharply, “I need a drink.”

“Buddy, we do not throw sand at people!” Lia told your favourite little buddy off.

Buddy, wasn’t even phased by that and scooped up another handful.

“This is why I don’t babysit,” Stina, still blinking sand out of her eye, muttered.

Kim took deep breaths, trying to keep her cool. Stina unfortunately, had become collateral damage, frozen in place as she blinked back tears, sand still in her eyes.

And you? You were filming the whole thing, barely holding in your laughter.

“Lia, do something,” Kim said through gritted teeth.

Lia, ever the sensible one, sighed and pulled out her phone. “I’ll handle it,” she muttered, dialling Leah’s number. “Hiya, Le. Sorry to ruin your peaceful day without the girls, but uh, we have a bit of a situation here…”

“It’s totally Buddy-coded,” You chimed in with a wicked grin, holding your phone out in your hand like you were about to watch the world burn.

Kim shot you a glare as she rubbed her temples. Stina sniffled, still blinking out sand. Buddy was now flat on the ground, wailing at the top of her lungs. And you? You were having the time of your life.

“What’s going on?” Leah’s tired voice crackled through the phone, her tone calm and sounding like she’d just woken up from being asleep.

“Well, we’ve arrived at the place and we were about to pick strawberries until Buddy found out there was a sandpit,” Lia started, clearly trying to keep things together.

“Oh boy, I know where this is going…” Leah’s voice was laced with sympathy for Lia, but also a touch of understanding.

“And well, she’s decided that she wants to play in the sandpit instead… and threw a tantrum,” Lia continued, her voice tinged with a little more exasperation, “Now poor Stina has sand in her eyes, and Kim looks ready to quit for the day.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, “Let me speak to her,” She said, the firmness in her voice making it clear she was ready to take charge.

“Sure,” Lia agreed, pausing to look at Buddy, who is in the middle of throwing another clump of sand in Kim’s direction this time, “Buddy, Mummy’s on the phone and she would like to speak to you.”

“Ooooo, you’re in trouble now, Buddy!” You teased, making sure she heard every word of it.

Buddy froze mid-wail at the mention of Leah’s name. Wide-eyed, she sat up instantly, brushing sand off her shorts with a dramatic flair only a three-year-old could manage.

“Mummy!” Buddy gasped, toddling towards the phone with grabby hands, “I speak to her!”

Lia smiled faintly as she held the phone closer to Buddy, “She’s right here. Want to talk to her?”

“I speak to her, Auntie Wally!” Buddy demanded, eager to grab the phone, “Mummy! I in da sandpit!”

“I know,” Leah stifled a laugh, “But what’s this about you throwing sand at Stina? That’s not a very kind thing to do now, is it?”

“I no mean to do it,” Buddy lied, attempting her best innocent face.

“Yeah you did, Buddy, don’t fib,” You continued to wind your little sister up, oblivious that Leah could hear you crystal clear on the other end of the phone, “You so did it on purpose!”

“Oi,” Kim swatted you round the back of the head.

“Ow,” You yelped, rubbing the back of your head where you’d just been hit, “What’d you do that for?”

Kim gave you a firm look, “Quit antagonising her, will you?”

“Fine,” You muttered, sulking as you continued to rub the sore spot.

“It’s not nice to do things like that, Bubba,” Leah continued in a gentle tone of voice that still came across as firm to the three-year-old, “And when you do those things, you’re being very naughty, aren’t you?”

“I be an angel though, Mummy!” Buddy declared with unwavering confidence.

You couldn’t help but snort in amusement, “More like the devil.”

“Monkey,” Kim warned, shooting you a glare.

“What? I thought it was funny!” You insisted, holding your hands up in mock surrender.

“Stop it,” Kim stated, firmly.

“You’re no fun,” You mumbled, slumping your shoulders.

Back on the phone call, Leah tried to speak to Buddy as she could hear you winding her up, “I thought you wanted to have a nice time with Auntie Wally, Auntie Kim and Stina. If you continue to throw sand, then you won’t be able to, and you’ll have to come home. You don’t want that now, do you?”

“No, Mummy,” Buddy pouted, “I gon’ pick all da berries for ou’!”

Leah fauxed a playful gasp, “You are? Wow, I can’t wait to see how many you pick. But remember, only good girls get to pick berries.”

“I be good!” Buddy exclaimed, puffing out her chest.

“I know you can, Bubba,” Leah smiled on the other end of the phone, “Now, can you give the phone to your big sister? I need to have a word with her too.”

“Monks’ in trouble?” Buddy asked, curiously.

Leah exhaled a sigh, “A little bit.”

“Uh oh!” Buddy gasped in a dramatic sense, “Monks’ ou’ in big trouble wif Mummy! Ou’ need a timeout!” She announced smugly, handing over the phone to you.

You frowned, “What? I haven’t even done anything!”

“Oh, so that wasn’t you in the background winding her up?” Leah’s tone was unimpressed.

You shrank a little, suddenly regretting your choices. “Uhhh… Well, when you put it like that…”

“Uh-uh, don’t even try it,” Leah cut you off, her tone remaining not in the mood for your antics, “I’m fed up of having this same conversation with you, over and over again, Monkey. I’m this close to taking your iPad away. Or do I need to remind you that you’re already on thin ice after last week, eh?”

You tilted your head back and resisted the urge to groan, “Ah, come on, Le. It’s just some harmless fun… And it’ll make a great TikTok video–”

“You had better be joking there, Monkey!” Leah exclaimed, not happy at all.

You winced, “Chill, It’s fine. I was just kidding, Le!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not,” Leah replied firmly, “We’ll talk when you get home.”

You swallowed hard, trying to lighten the mood, “Aw, come on, Le, don’t be like that. You love me too much for that, right?” You attempted with a sheepish grin, even though she couldn’t see you.

Leah wasn’t having it, “You think I don’t know what you’re like, Monkey? I’m hardly in a position to even drive to come and get you right now, am I? You had better not be up to no good for the rest of the time that you’re out–You know this is the last thing I wanted to be dealing with you being a pain in the arse today!”

“Geesh, I really feel the love right now,” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Monkey!” Leah shouted.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” You told her, holding your hands up in mock surrender even though she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“You’ll stop now because I’m telling you. Not when it suits you,” Leah continued to scold, “So unless you really do want me to come down there and drag you back home so you can sit in your bedroom the rest of the day, I suggest you stop while you’re ahead, sunshine–I don’t care if you’re 19 or not, I won’t have you winding your little sister up and being a menace for Kim and Wally. Do you understand?”

You groaned but didn’t argue, “Yes, Mum.”

“Good,” Leah said, her voice softening just slightly, “I need you to set an example for your little sister, yeah? I don’t need you acting like your usual menace self!”

You grumbled something under your breath, and Leah didn’t miss it, “What was that?”

“... Nothing,” You mumbled.

“That’s what I thought,” Leah retorted in a firm voice, “Now go be helpful. And if I hear one more complaint, your iPad is mine.”

You clutched the phone tighter as you frowned, but you knew better than to argue, “Okay, Mum.”

“Right, now put Lia back on the phone,” Leah instructed, making sure that you understood not to cause any more trouble.

“Here,” You mumbled, passing the phone back to Lia so she could talk to Leah.

Lia took the phone, “Hi, Le.”

“Right, I’ve had a word with both of the girls–Buddy knows not to throw sand, and Monkey shouldn’t be too much of a problem now either,” Leah explained to her best friend.

“Thank you, sorry for disturbing you… This is probably the last thing you wanted to be dealing with today,” Lia apologised, running her hand through her hair.

Leah chuckled on the other end of the phone, “Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as a break from motherhood.”

“I guess you’re right there,” Lia chuckled in agreement, “Try and take it easy. We’ll be back later.”

We’ll see,” Leah hummed, clearly unconvinced.

“Right, I’ll let you go–Monkey, use your crutches!” Lia exclaimed, catching you attempting to walk away without them.

You froze mid-step, a few paces ahead of her, and quickly looked down at your feet, guilt flashing through you, “I wasn’t gonna… Never mind, I know, I know,” You mumbled, slumping your shoulders.

“Oh please don’t tell me she’s not using them,” Leah said, gritting her teeth as she felt a wave of pain flood through her, the image of you overexerting yourself, “She needs to use them or she’s not going to get better.”

“Pick them up,” Lia gestured to the abandoned crutches on the floor, not giving in until you grabbed them with a dramatic sigh and eye roll, “There’s been a bit of resistance when we got here, and well, now. But Kim started counting, and she caved.”

Leah let out a laugh, “Ah yes, the magical counting to three.”

“And the threat of calling you,” Lia added.

Leah laughed harder before a second wave went straight through her that left her clutching the phone in her hand, “I’m gonna go. I’ll… I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. Get some rest and we’ll see you in a bit,” Lia said goodbye, ending the phone call before turning back to you and your favourite little buddy, “Right then, who’s ready to go and pick some yummy strawberries?”

“I wan’ pick berries!” Buddy shouted aloud at the top of her voice, “I pick all da good ones for Mummy!” She squealed, excitement fully restored.

You snickered turning to look towards Stina, “Five quid she eats more than she picks.”

Stina groaned, “I’m guaranteed to lose.”

You were definitely still posting that TikTok. There was no way you could leave something that good in your drafts. It was too perfect, too hilarious, way too you to just let it sit there.

“Mmm, der yummy berries!” While everyone else was busy picking strawberries, Buddy seemed much more interested in stuffing them into her mouth.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her, watching her make a mess with her sticky hands. The sight was amusing, but you were also struggling. You weren’t in the best mood, having to rely on crutches, “You’re meant to put them in the basket, Buddy, not eat all of ‘em.”

“I just testin’ them so der nice for Mummy! I hafta make sure I pick all da nice ones!” Buddy insisted, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

“You’ll have none left by the time we get back to the car,” Kim told her, amusedly, “And then what will you give to Mummy?”

“It okay! Der will be more!” Buddy declared with determination, though her hands were mostly busy shovelling the fruit into her mouth.

Lia chuckled, shaking her head before glancing over at you, “Are you not going to pick any, little one?” She asked, noticing the emptiness of your own bucket.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” You mumbled, shifting awkwardly on your crutches. Truthfully, your mind wasn’t on the strawberries–you just hated to rely on the dumb crutches, and the idea of walking around with them was just… annoying.

Lia gave you a knowing look but didn’t push, “Make sure you pick some good ones, eh? At the rate Buddy is going, she won’t have any to take home with us.”

“She’s gonna make herself sick,” You muttered, watching as Buddy crammed another strawberry into her already full mouth.

Kim grimaced at the thought of it, “Buddy, sweetheart. I think you’ve eaten enough. How about we just focus on putting them in the basket now, hm? We don’t want you to get a poorly tummy.”

“I be fine! I no get a tummy ache!” Buddy protested through a mouthful of berries, “I pickin’ all da bestest berries for Mummy!”

You scoffed, “Yeah but if you eat them all then there’ll be none to give her, Shrimp,”

“Dat no true. Der be loads!” Buddy declared with sheer determination.

“Pft, yeah, sure whatever you say,” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head.

“Monks’ ou’ don’ understand dat I can eat dem all!” Buddy exclaimed, puffing out her chest.

“Sure, eat them all and then you’ll end up sick,” You grimaced at the mention of it, “I’m not being the one to clear up when you do!”

“Ou’ don’ know dat!” Buddy whined.

You rolled your eyes in disagreement, “I do! You did the same thing with Mum’s birthday cake,”

“Nuh-uh!” Buddy argued.

“Uh-huh!” You fought back.

Buddy furrowed her eyebrows in determination, “Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh,” You teased, grinning.

“Girls, come on, that’s enough,” Lia stepped in before the bickering could spiral any further, “Come on, let’s just finish picking the strawberries before we end up being here all day.”

“Keep it up and neither of you are getting any strawberries,” Kim warned.

Buddy gasped dramatically, clutching her basket to her chest, “Nooo! M’ berries! Ou’ can’ take ‘em away!”

Lia failed to hide her amusement, “Then let’s stop the arguing and start filling those baskets properly, yeah?”

Buddy pouted but finally relented, reaching for another strawberry–though, judging by the look in her eye, she was still debating whether to put it in the basket or her mouth.

“Buddy,” Kim warned, crossing her arms.

Buddy huffed, exaggeratedly placing it in the basket instead, “Happy now?”

Kim smirked, “Very.”

You shook your head, shifting slightly on your crutches as you tried to focus on picking some strawberries of your own. It was still annoying, but at least the ridiculousness of Buddy was distracting enough to keep your mind off it.

At least until she toddled over to you with something in her hand.

“Ook, Monks’! Ook I found a c’eepy c’awly!!” Buddy, oblivious to the problem, had found a tiny caterpillar and was admiring it with wide eyes, “Ook! Ook!”

You were already regretting her wander off ahead.

“Hell nah–get that thing away from me!” You freaked out, seeing the small caterpillar enclosed in her hands, “Don’t come any near! Nuh-uh!”

“It cute doh, Monks’!” Buddy giggled, clearly mischievous and before you could stop her, she had placed the caterpillar on the handle of your crutches.

“Buddy! No! Get it away!” You shrieked in fear, jerking your crutch out of your grip, “Get it away! Get it away!” You flung both of your crutches in sheer panic–it went flying, landing with a soft splash in a nearby pond.

You turned to watch your crutches sink slowly, bubbles rising to the surface as they disappeared beneath the water.

“Oh shit,” You mumbled, eyes wide at the realisation of you what you had done, and what was too late.

The field went eerily silent.

“Well…” Kim broke the silence, her tone almost deadpan, “Who’s gonna tell Leah that she needs to buy another pair of crutches then?”

Everyone stood still, staring at the water where your crutches had sunk, leaving nothing but ripples.

The first problem? Your crutches were now submerged in a body of water.

The second problem? Your little sister was absolutely distraught over the sudden loss of her new best friend.

You watched as the tears welled in Buddy’s eyes as she stomped her foot, bottom lip wobbling dangerously, “Ou’ meanie!” She screeched, pointing an accusing sticky-red finger at you, “Ou’ throwed my fwiend ‘way! Dat not nice! Dat so not nice, Monks’!”

“Buddy, mate, listen… It was a bug–” You tried, but she gasped like you’d committed an actual crime.

“NO! Him was not just a bug! Him was my fwiend! An’ ou’ was a big meanie an’ ou’ throwed him in da water an’ now he gonna get lost an’ he gonna be so sad!” Buddy wailed, her little fists clenching at her sides as she stomped her foot again.

“Monks’ ou’ threw my new friend away!” Buddy wailed, in a state of overwhelming sadness, “Dat is not nice! Ou’ a meanie!”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead, “Buddy–”

“NUH-UH!” Your little sister cut you off dramatically, her sobs turning into full-on ugly crying, “Ou’ don’ even cawe! Him was my bes’ fwiend! I loved him! Now he aww gone foweva! Foweva!”

“OU’ A MURDERER!” Buddy suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, dropping her basket of forgotten strawberries as she passed an accusing finger right at you, “Ou’ murdered my bestest friend!”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, “Oh, come on, you’re overreacting–you can’t even consider a caterpillar a friend, Shrimp.”

“OU STILL A MURDERER!” Buddy continued to scream aloud, attracting nearby attention from people walking past and giving her a concerned look.

“This isn’t what I was expecting today,” Stina mumbled, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

Lia cleared her throat, clearly trying not to laugh at the absolute meltdown unfolding in front of her, “It’s okay, Buddy. I’m sure… uh… I’m sure your friend is swimming happily somewhere now.”

But Buddy? Well, she was having absolutely none of it.

“HIM CAN’ SWIM!” Your little sister shrieked, completely horrified, “HIM GONNA DROWN! HIM GONNA BE SO SO SAD!”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Kim groaned, rubbing her temples, “Buddy, sweetheart, that bug was not your lifelong best friend.”

“YES HIM WAS!” Buddy argued, hands resting on her hips with a scowl that even made Leah’s took tame.

“Okay, fine, he was. But you cannot stand here in the middle of this field screaming about it,” Kim told her.

Buddy ignored her completely, now throwing herself onto the grass in a full-body tantrum, fists pounding in the ground, “I wan’ him baaaaaaack!” She sobbed, “I wan’ my fwiennnnnnnnd!”

You huffed, throwing your head back in exasperation, “Yo, Buddy this hissy fit is causing a scene. How about… If you stop cryin’ then I’ll go and buy you that new Buzz Lightyear that you really want, yeah?”

Buddy stopped mid-wail, picking herself up off the floor and a big smile appeared on her face, “I wan’ buzz!”

Kim let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You cannot just bribe her out of tantrums, Monkey.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” You pointed out, motioning to Buddy, who was now wiping her tears away like they never existed, already bouncing at the thought of her new toy, “Unless you have a better idea!”

Kim exchanged a look with Lia, who was barely holding in her laughter, “That’s not the point,” She muttered.

“Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!” Buddy started chanting, dancing around you in excitement, completely forgetting about the “friend” she had been mourning just moments ago.

Lia finally let out a chuckle, shaking her head, “I think we should probably call it a day before she finds another “best friend” to grieve over,” She suggested.

Kim let out a long frustrated sigh, but after a brief pause, she nodded, “Never again. Never. Again.” She spun on her heel and started walking back to the car, clearly over it.

“Wait for me! I got little legs!” Buddy called out, her tiny feet trying to catch up with Stina’s long strides. She clung to Stina’s hand as she toddled along, her eyes wide with excitement.

Lia, ever the softy, took pity on you and your lack of crutches. Without a word, she bent down, easily lifting you onto her back for a piggyback ride, her strong arms making it look effortless.

You let out a dramatic sigh as you settled into the ride, “Can we get McDonald’s on the way back?” You asked, hopeful.

“No,” Kim shot the request down instantly, her voice flat and final.

“Awh, shucks,” You grumbled, “But I’m hungry!”

“Tough,” Kim replied, giving you a side-eye, “You can eat when you get home. We’re heading back now.”

You rolled your eyes, but Kim’s will was as strong as ever. Still, in a rare moment of weakness, she relented, “Fine,” She muttered, “But we’re going through the drive-thru.”

In the end, you scored a Quater Pounder meal with a strawberry milkshake, while Buddy gleefully clutched her Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and a fruit shoot.

“If you make a mess in the back of my car then you’ll be clearing it up,” Kim warned, glancing at you through the rear-view mirror as you happily munched on your burger.

You grinned, stuffing a bite of burger into your mouth, “This is why you’re my favourite Auntie!”

As the car hummed along the road, Buddy’s face twisted, her hand pressed to her stomach, “Auntie Kimmy,” She whined softly, her voice barely audible, “I don’ feel so good…”

Kim’s eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, panic rising in her chest as she saw Buddy’s pale face and the faint green hue creeping up her cheeks, “It’s alright, sweetheart, we��re almost–” Her warning was cut off as Buddy’s small body lurched, and a sickening sound filled the back of the car, “Home…”

“Oh my God,” Your eyes widened in horror, most definitely put off the rest of your McDonald’s–that was until the familiar, queasy feeling hit you too. Your stomach churned in sympathy, “Kimmy! Pull over… Pull over, quick. I’m going… I’m going to be sick!”

Lia froze, her face drained of all colour, “Oh no,” She murmured, her voice high in panic.

Kim, who usually kept her cool in any situation, was no different. She slammed on the brakes, pulling the car over to the side of the road in one swift motion, the tyres screeching against the asphalt.

You didn’t waste the time, rushing out of the car, hunching over and throwing up your recently eaten McDonald’s into the nearest bush.

“Oh my God, this is… this is not happening. I can’t believe this is happening!” Kim stood outside of the car, her hands gripping the edge of the door, trying to collect herself, “Why does this always happen to me? I try to live a good life, I’m kind to others, I’m helpful, so why does this happen to me?” She muttered to herself, glancing up at the sky like it was going to give her an answer.

Inside the car, Lia had unbuckled herself, quickly getting to Buddy’s side, “Hey, it’s alright, little miss,” She soothed, opening the back car door, “It’s alright, we’re going to get you cleaned up, and you’ll feel better soon.”

Buddy’s tiny face was contorted in distress, tears running down her cheeks, “I… I sorry, Auntie Wally,” She whimpered, her little body trembling, “I… I didn’ mean it,” She sniffled between hiccuping sobs, still clutching her stomach, “I don’ wanna feel sick…”

“I know,” Lia cooed, her heart breaking as she dug around in Buddy’s bag of spare clothes and everything else, relieved to find the baby wipes she was looking for. Pulling one out, she gently started wiping the three-year-old’s face with it, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I guess you ate too many strawberries, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to. I sorry. I didn’t mean to be sick!” Buddy cried, distraught with herself.

“It’s okay,” Lia reassured her, still dapping at the corner of her mouth with a wipe, “Do you feel better now you’ve thrown up, hm?”

“I feel bit better!” Buddy mumbled, nodding her head.

“I feel… horrible,” You couldn’t help but continue to gag at the smell of the car as your stomach churned again, “I’m not getting back in that car with it smelling like this! It’s awful!”

Kim gagged, taking an exaggerated step away from the car like it might lunge at her, “Oh my God, oh my God, the smell! It’s in the air! It’s in my lungs! I can’t–” She bent over, hands on her knees, dry-heaving at just the thought of it.

Kim was still bent over, hands on her knees, still dry-heaving like her life depended on it. Lia was busy cleaning up Buddy, and you–well, you had mostly recovered from your own episode, but the menace in you? That part was thriving.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you straightened up just enough to glance toward the car, then dramatically clutched your stomach again, “Oh no…” You murmured, voice laced with faux dread, “Kimmy… I think I see it…”

Kim let out a panicked wheeze, “See what?”

“The chips,” You whispered ominously, “They’re looking back at me…”

Kim slapped a hand over her mouth so fast it was almost impressive, “SHUT UP. STOP TALKING, MONKEY.”

Which, of course, only made it funnier.

“Oooooh,” You groaned dramatically, clutching your stomach, “And the ketchup too… all mixed up with–”

“MONKEY! STOP!” Kim all but screeched, whirling around to face you, eyes wide with sheer terror, “DON’T SAY IT! DON’T YOU DARE!”

You staggered back, clutching your stomach dramatically, like you were having some sort of sick-induced vision, “The McFlurry… it’s melting…”

Kim gagged so hard she nearly collapsed.

Lia sighed from inside the car, “Do you have to be such a menace?”

Buddy, now freshly cleaned up but still sniffling, peeked out at you with wide eyes, “I don’ wanna see my strawberries again,” She whimpered.

You softened for a moment seeing your little sister looking so vulnerable, “Aww, it’s okay, Buddy. No more strawberries for you today,” Then with zero hesitation, you spun back to Kim, “But, Kimmy, what if you do see them again?”

Kim shot you a look, “I swear to God–”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “Big. Red. Chunky.”

That was enough to send Kim over the edge as she let out a full-bodied scream, fanning herself like she was about to faint, “I CAN’T. I CAN’T DO THIS. I AM DONE WITH THIS.”

At that, you continued to have a wide shit-eating grin plastered on your face as you stood opposite her, arms crossed over your chest, “Don’t ya just love me, Auntie Kimmy?”

Kim glared, pointing a trembling finger at you, “I hate you.”

You gasped in mock betrayal, “What? But I’m your favourite niece!”

Kim scoffed, “Not when you’re being a pain in the arse. Obviously, it’s Buddy.”

Your jaw dropped, “This is outrageous! And here I thought you loved me, Auntie Kimmy!” You huffed before tossing out, “Well, you’re not my favourite auntie either. It’s Wally.”

Lia, unbothered, simply shrugged, “Naturally.”

Lia strode through the front door, you draped over her shoulder like a misbehaving toddler. The moment Leah saw, her face dropped.

“Oh, I’m having flashbacks,” Leah muttered, her tone half-exasperated, half-amused, “Dare I ask what happened?”

Lia didn’t dignify that with an answer. She just marched straight over to the corner where you’re old timeout spot was and plopped you down without another word.

Meanwhile, Kim followed behind, Buddy on her hip as she gleefully shouted, “To infinity and beyond!” As if nothing had happened, still not fully aware of the chaos she’d caused, “Mummy!” She chirped, leaning out towards Leah.

“Hi Bubba,” Leah’s expression softened as she scooped Buddy out of Kim’s arms, “Have you had a good day with your aunties and big sister?”

Buddy nodded enthusiastically, “Uh-huh! Monks’ is gonna buy me Buzz Lightyear!”

“Oh?” Leah raised an eyebrow turning to face you, “Are you now?”

“Well…” You shifted in your spot, “I kinda promised that I would, and I can’t break a promise now, can I?”

Buddy beamed, “Monks’ pwomised to buy me it cos’ she throwed my bes’ fwiend in da water!”

“Only cos’ you put that little creepy crawly on my crutches!” You exclaimed, shuddering at the memory of what happened in the last few hours.

Leah blinked, “And where exactly are your crutches?”

A beat of silence.

“Oh… Well, they’re in the water too,” You admitted with a simple shrug of your shoulders.

“What?” Leah exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Do you want to explain yourself, or should I just go ahead and take your iPad now?” Her voice was low. Dangerous.

You scuffed your foot against the floor, refusing to meet Leah’s gaze, “... I was just–”

Leah crossed her arms, levelling you with the kind of look that had you sinking lower into the corner.

“Just not listening and being a complete menace, right?” Her tone sharpened, “I should ground you for a week, but we both know that won’t do anything because I will still have to deal with your whining. So guess what?” She leaned down, voice dripping into something final, something heavy, “Your iPad’s mine.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide in horror, “WHAT? NO!”

Kim raised an eyebrow at that, shaking her head as she chuckled, “Oof. That is rough, ain’t it?”

Buddy, completely oblivious to your suffering, was too busy singing the Toy Story theme song to care, “You got a fwiend in me–”

Leah simply held out her hand, palm up, expectant, “Give it.”

“Mum, come on!” You groaned, tilting your head back in frustration, “That’s not fair! If you take it, how am I supposed to watch Shrek?!”

“You should have thought about that before,” Leah said coolly, not missing a beat, “Now, hand it over.”

“But Mum, I–”

“You know the rules,” Leah interrupted, her tone unwavering.

You groaned dramatically, flopping back against the wall like you’d been personally wronged, “I can’t give it to you.”

Leah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “And why not?”

You crossed your arms, gaze darting to the side, “... It’s on charge.”

“Okay? Go get it,” Leah gestured in the direction with a wave of her hand.

“How, exactly?!” You pointed dramatically at your ankle, “You saw Lia carry me in! I can’t walk without my crutches.”

Leah let out a sharp exhale, pinching the bridge of her nose, “So let me get this straight. Not only have you been winding Buddy up, but you also threw your own crutches in the water?”

“Not to mention she was winding Kim up as well,” Lia mumbled, giving you a knowing look.

“In my defence–”

“There is no defence,” Leah cut in, already making her way to the kitchen where you’d left it on charge before going out.

You sighed, knowing the battle was lost as she returned a moment later, your iPad in hand. You stared at it longingly, already feeling the withdrawal symptoms kicking in, “This isn’t fair!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about your precious screen time before you decided to be a pain in the arse,” Leah muttered, tucking your iPad securely under her arm, “Maybe you can take this time to think about your actions.”

You groaned, your whole body sagging like a deflated balloon, “But, Mum, it was Buddy-coded,” You tried, voice bordering on desperation, “Doesn’t that, y’know, count for something?”

“It does,” Leah raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “It counts for an extra day without your iPad.”

“What?” You gasped, hands flying to your face in mock horror, “Mum, nooo! That’s not fair! You’re so mean!”

The worst part? You couldn’t even storm upstairs in protest because, well… no crutches. Instead, you slumped in the corner, arms crossed, glaring at Leah like she’d personally ruined your entire life.

“I just want to protest the absolute injustice of it all,” You huffed.

Leah, entirely unbothered, pulled out of her phone, snapped a quick photo of you sulking, and sent it to Jordan with a smirk.

Does this look familiar? 😂 Someone’s sulking because they’ve lost the iPad for the day

A second later, Leah’s phone dinged.

Oh dear. Some things never do change I guess 😬

You're still committed to your silent protest, you slumped further against the wall in exaggerated misery. But then, an idea struck you–one last, desperate act of rebellion.

With a dramatic sigh, you let yourself slide off the wall, flopping onto the floor like a lifeless ragdoll, “I can’t go on,” You wailed, kicking your good foot feebly, “I have nothing left to live for!”

Leah, utterly unimpressed, stepped right over you without so much as a glance.

“Mummy! Can I watch Toy Stowy?” Buddy questioned, oblivious to your dramatics.

“Course we can, Bubba,” Leah agreed, picking up the TV remote and finding the requested movie.

“Oi! At least acknowledge my suffering” You called after her, twisting your head to glare at her retreating figure.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leah waved a dismissive hand, “I’ll be sure to send flowers to your funeral.”

You huffed in defeat as you sat there, slumped and sulking in your own misery, “I’m never speaking to you again!”

… Only to break that promise five minutes later when you realise without your crutches, you were stuck.

“Right, so, uh–” You shuffled awkwardly, “I know I said I wouldn’t speak to you, but… I need help getting up,” You gestured to your ankle and the complete lack of crutches, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, though.”

Leah smirked, “Yeah, course not. Guess I won’t bother making your favourite dinner tonight then, huh?”

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash, “Whoa, whoa, whoa–hold on just a second now,” You backtracked, eyes wide with panic, “No need to be so hasty, Mum. You know I love my nuggets.”

Leah fought a grin, “That’s what I thought,” She said, her tone teasing yet firm as she turned to Lia and Kim, “Right, does anyone want a drink?” She asked, her smile growing as she enjoyed the playful standoff before making her way into the kitchen with Lia and Kim to leave you to your endless moping about the loss of your iPad and beloved Shrek.

#monkey #double the trouble fic #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #scribblesofagoonerr #woso fanfics #woso imagine #awfc x reader #lia wälti x reader #kim little x reader

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