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hazbinshusk · 1 month ago

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huskerdust x fem!reader. a birthday present for the wonderful, inimitable @mckeeks. if anyone deserves to be lovingly spoilt (and dicked down) by this duo, it is unequivocally her. ❤️ happy birthday, babe!

when you reluctantly reveal to the other residents of the hazbin hotel that you're still a virgin, angel graciously offers up his and husk's services in rectifying that condition for you. and how could you turn down such a kind offer from hell's best couple?

(as always, the dynamic here is one in which husk serves as the hinge between the reader and angel). way longer than I thought it'd be - 7.8k.

featuring: afab/fem-presenting reader, established!huskerdust, polyamory, soft!dom angel dust, voyuerism/exhibitionism, praise kink, lowkey daddy kink, oral sex (reader receiving), handjobs (husk receiving), masturbation, facials, husk has barbs (and you're into it), unprotected sex (it's hell so who cares), gendered petnames, the hotel rooms have cuck chairs (sorry).

“Sooo…” Angel draws out liltingly, his glass clasped between two hands, and you immediately regret accepting his invitation to join him at the bar. His voice isn’t teasing – just curious – but you can still feel your face begin to burn before he even gets the question you know is coming past his lips and into the air between you. “…A virgin, huh?”

Dear God or whoever is listening, if there is any chance that the ground could open up and swallow you whole, you really needed it to happen right about now.

“Angel.” Husk says from his usual position on the other side of the bar. He has his back to you as he sorts the bottles back into their designated positions after a long night of ‘family bonding’ with the rest of the residents. You’re grateful, for once, that his eyes aren’t on you. Husk’s voice is edged with a gentleness you think might be reserved just for the spider. Still, there’s a warning there, too. “Leave it.”

Where he’d usually make some teasing or sarcastic remark, Angel’s silent for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice stays gentle, still curious. “You one of those god-fearin’ types or ya just never had the opportunity?”

You loved Charlie, you really did, but right now…

Right now, fuck her and her bonding activities.

“I just…” you swallow the knot sticking in the middle of your throat, keeping your eyes trained pointedly away from Angel’s face. You notice that maybe Husk’s hand pauses for a moment, as though he’s waiting for an explanation too. Well, who wouldn’t? You might have died younger than most, but not young enough to just chalk up your inexperience to the innocence of youth. “I just never met anyone I liked, I guess. And Hell’s not exactly lousy with decent men.”

“Huh.” Angel says simply, finishing his drink. He sets the glass back down, stretching one pair of arms above his head, the other two behind him. He settles all four of his hands in his lap as Husk refills his drink. And then,

“You should get Husk to help ya out with that.”

Your cheeks flame, and Husk chokes on the drink he’s just taken. Eyes watering and his throat burning with the whiskey that sticks in it, he coughs his admonishment. “Angel!”

You grope for a response, for a joke that’ll get the conversation away from your sex life… or lack thereof. Before you can find one, Angel continues, ignoring the way Husk is still hacking up the last of his drink. Even as mortified as you are, you feel your lips quirk upwards slightly in amusement as Husk reaches blindly for a new bottle before he’s even done coughing up the remains of the first.

“Look at you two, blushin’ like some kinda…” Angel smirks as he glances pointedly at you. “…well.”

You frown. “I really don’t need you mocking me, Angel.”

“I ain’t mockin’ ya dollface,” he replies, raising two hands in surrender. Still, that placid note stays in his voice, something that could be read as sincerity if what he was offering wasn’t such a ridiculous notion. “I’m bein’ serious here. Huskie’s downright godly in the sack.”

Husk finally turns around to face the two of you properly, bright pink staining his muzzle. You notice his eyes dart towards you, and you could swear the blush deepens. The idea that it does sends a thrill through you, and you clutch tightly at your glass as though it could somehow stem the feelings churning inside you.

Husk was Angel’s. You’d accepted that, you had. You’d written off your attraction to the bartender as some silly crush. You didn’t think about him like that anymore.

You didn’t.

“Legs, I’m beggin’ ya,” Husk says, even as he refills the spider’s glass, “For the sake of whatever you believe in, please shut the fuck up.”

“What?” Angel protests, waving a hand almost dismissively. He actually looks confused by the objection. “I ain’t got a problem sharin’ if it’s with a friend.”

Husk sighs, directing his eyes towards the ceiling. There’s a tightness to how he stands, in the way his tail is switching back and forth behind him. He’s still avoiding your eye, his face still warm with colour.

“That ain’t the—” he breaks off, taking a deep pull from the bottle in his hand. He grimaces, tilting the bottle to read the label – watermelon vodka of all things – but shrugs and takes another drink as though it helps him gather his thoughts. Or his nerves. “She ain’t a toy, Angel. You can’t jus—”

“You tellin’ me ya ain’t interested anymore?” Angel interjects pointedly, raising a brow.

Husk stiffens, his ears dropping back against his skull. “I—”

“What?” you finally find your voice again, straightening slightly in your seat. You turn your attention fully to the bartender, and he meets your gaze with equally wide eyes. “You… you were interested? In me?”

“I…” Husk seems to struggle for words for a moment before he sighs, an almost sheepish, self-deprecating smile touching his lips as he exhales. “C’mon, doll. I’d have to be blind not to notice you.”

Something warm and wonderfully light settles in your chest, and Angel’s smile widens as he takes in your reaction. You jump as you feel one of his hands touch your arm.

“Told ya so,” he says, skimming his hand up along your arm as he stands. He continues to caress across your shoulder blades, moving to stand behind you. “Shoulda seen it, baby. How he’d bend himself all outta shape feelin’ guilty for feelin’ all warm and gooey over ya.”

“Angel, I didn’t—”

“’s okay,” he assures you gently, his hands taking your shoulders and waist. He leans against your back, meeting Husk’s eye as he speaks in your ear. Angel’s voice is low; his warm breath against your neck makes you shiver. “Like I said, I don’t mind sharin’.”

Your eyes flick back to Husk.

“So, why not get somethin’ out of it? Huskie here can be real romantic about it… he’ll make ya feel so, so good…”

You can feel your breath leave you unsteadily. Husk’s pupils all but eclipse the gold of his eyes, and his gaze falls to your mouth for a moment before he meets your eye again.

“There’s no pressure, baby,” Angel assures you, and you can tell he means it. “I’m jus’ sayin’, we’d have a lot of fun together.”

“‘We’?” you repeat, surprised enough to turn and face him. Angel wears his pride like a second skin, and as far as you were aware, he never swung back the other way without being paid for it. You try to find the right words as Angel beckons Husk to join the two of you, and heat pools in the small of your back as you hear, feel, the bartender round the bar towards you slowly. You choose the words carefully. “I didn’t think you were…”

Angel smirks, lifting your chin with two delicate fingers. That same heat burns in the pit of your stomach at the gentle dominance of the action. “Don’t panic, dollface. I ain’t joinin’ in the ride. It’s your show; yours and Husk’s.”

He leans down, bringing his face so, so much closer to yours. You feel Husk’s presence beside the two of you, and Angel reaches out to take his hand. Husk takes it wordlessly; he’s so close you can feel the soft fur of his stomach brush against your knee as he breathes. It puts images in your head of him stepping between your thighs, taking hold of your hips… trapping you between his body and the bar…

There’s a heat in Angel’s eyes that makes it impossible for you to look away; one that floods through every inch of you. It makes your entire body tingle with need for connection, for touch. Angel seems to recognize this; he reaches up with another hand to brush hair behind your ear and his smile twitches wider when you shudder.

“I jus’ want a front row seat.”

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

Nerves war with the excitement that has bloomed in the very centre of you, and you feel alien and out of place sitting on the bed, one knee bent against the mattress, the other leg hanging off the side. Husk sits in a mirrored position, wings tucked tight against his back. He’s so close that his knee bumps against yours.

The lights are low, but his eyes still glow as they study you. Your eyes keep falling to your hands where they tangle in your lap before they find his again, and you can feel just how flushed your cheeks are under his gaze. The feathered end of his tail twitches back and forth slowly beside the bed, and he clears his throat.

“We don’ have to do anything you don’ want to, sweetness.” he says in a low murmur, his voice all warm velvet and silk. The pet-name makes you press your lips together, the tip of your tongue darting out to wet them. Husk’s gaze falls to follow the movement, and he inhales sharply. “We… I don’ want you to feel like we’re forcin’ you into anything y—”

You lean forward and press your lips to Husk’s impulsively in a brief, fleeting kiss. You hear, feel, the quiet mrrp of surprise he makes, his wings fluttering and relaxing behind him. You can feel the softness of his lips before you pull away again, your face aflame. He blinks at you before his lips curl into a smile, and your breath catches in your throat as he closes the distance between you again.

Husk’s hand cups your cheek in the same moment his lips meet yours. This time the kiss lingers, and your nerves give way to desire as you feel his other paw touch your knee. Husk kisses you softly, searchingly, his lips brushing gently against yours. Your own lips part, his nose bumping against yours as you take a breath. Then he’s kissing you again and you whimper as you feel his tongue touch your bottom lip, begging permission.

God, the way he groans quietly when you part your lips and meet his tongue tentatively with your own.

Husk strokes your cheek with his thumb, the pad of his palm soft against your skin as he slides his claws carefully into your hair. It makes you shiver and you lean into his embrace, reaching up with uncertain hands to card fingers through the fur of his chest. A rumble sounds from deep within him, a rusty purr that you feel as a light buzz under your fingertips.

You can’t help the light, breathless laugh that leaves you as you realise that’s what it is – you’ve made the bartender purr – and Husk smiles into your kiss as he pulls you back to him, catching your lips again. His touch on your knee becomes more confident as you relax into his embrace, and he ghosts the tips of his claws up over your inner thigh, teasing just under the hem of your dress.

“Husk…” you breathe his name against his lips and he chuckles, eyes closed as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, it sounds so pretty comin’ from you…” he murmurs, his nose cold against your heated skin as he moves to kiss you again.

Your hand journeys up from his chest to slide through the fur of his neck and up to his cheek, and Husk leans into your touch with a soft smile. His paws close around your thighs and he tugs you closer, your legs unfolding to rest on either side of his. Husk’s touch moves to your hips and he kisses you again, guiding you gently back against the pillows as his body covers yours.

Winding your arms around his neck, you feel his feathers tickle at your knees as you bend them to rest against his hips. The move brings him flush against you, and Husk breaks away from your lips with a breathless sound halfway between a groan and a disbelieving laugh.

“Fuck…” Husk lets his head fall forward, his forehead bumping against your collarbone. You feel his hips rock into yours before he can stop himself, and you whimper as you feel his arousal press up between your thighs. He exhales shakily, brushing his lips against your shoulder, your throat, your cheek before he meets your eye again. “’s this okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, carding your fingers through the fur at the base of his ear. Husk shudders against you, eyes rolling back slightly at the touch. A crease forms in his brow as he forces himself not to move, not to grind himself down against your warmth. Your dress is bunched up around him, baring your inner thighs to his tickling fur, his breath warm against your cheek. “Yeah, please… do it again, Husk.”

“Christ,” Husk mutters as you tease at his ear again, knocking his hat off his head. He kisses you firmly, deeply, one paw taking hold of your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh in a way that you could almost call possessive. “You got no idea how dangerous you are…”

“Holy shit, you two are cute.”

Angel’s voice breaks through the haze between the two of you, and you pull away from Husk slightly as you’re suddenly reminded that the spider is there. Your cheeks flush with heat; you’d been so wrapped up in the man in bed with you that you’d almost forgotten your friend was watching. Instead of being cowed by his interruption however, you’re almost taken aback by how much it excites you, knowing he’s watching.

Husk presses another kiss to the edge of your jaw before he turns his head to roll his eyes and smile at his paramour. “You plannin’ on jus’ addin’ colour commentary here, legs?”

“For now, yeah,” Angel replies with a grin, lounging comfortably in the armchair in the corner. He’s watching the two of you with hooded eyes, and there’s something almost sensual in the way he strokes a hand lazily back and forth along the velvety fabric of the arm of the chair. “I’m jus’ waitin’ for ya to do that thing with your tongue that’ll make her go blind for a second.”

Husk snickers and, feeling daring, you lean up to tease the side of his throat with your lips. You feel him groan as your teeth graze over his pulse point. The bartender’s hand tightens on your thigh, hitching it higher against his hip. “Fuck…”

“Ooh, she’s a quick study,” Angel coos, and you thrill under the praise as Husk turns his head to catch your lips in another kiss. “Think you can keep up with her, kitty?”

“Don’ call me that,” Husk mumbles without breaking the kiss, and Angel giggles. Husk dusts kisses down over your throat, and you feel him grin against your neck when he sucks a bruise into the curve where it meets your shoulder and you curse. The sound of it is low and throaty and begs for more, and Husk rewards it with a louder purr and a trail of kisses that teases down along the neckline of your dress. You arch up into his touch as his lips brush over your sternum, his whiskers tickling at the swell of your breasts.

His paw continues its journey up your thigh, taking the skirt of your dress with it. His tail sways back and forth behind him, and when he reaches your hip, he pauses, pressing one more kiss to your chest before pulling back to meet your eye. A smirk plays over his features, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide with desire.

“You got me at a disadvantage here, sweetness,” he murmurs, lips catching yours again briefly. “You’re a little overdressed for the occasion.”

You giggle. “Well, of course you’d think that; you’re the one who walks around the hotel half-naked all day.”

Husk chuckles, and you hear Angel hum a laugh, too. The cat kisses you, his thumb hooking in the band of your underwear and snapping it tauntingly against your hip. “Cheeky girl.”

You sit up and Husk helps you tug your dress up over your head, and God the way he looks at you…

Pulling him down into another kiss, you massage your fingers against the base of his ears and Husk moans, rough and worn and needy. He retakes your hips as you buck up against him, eager to feel him again with one less barrier between you. Husk snickers, kissing your cheek.

“Slow down, princess,” he tells you gently, claws tickling against your ribs as he strokes them soothingly. He hooks them in either side of your underwear, and you whine. He draws them down your legs slowly, pulling away from you long enough for you to kick them away. “I’ve got you, baby. One step at a time.”

You hear Angel shift in his chair and look towards him automatically. The spider smiles and winks, still watching the two of you with that same addictive intensity. You hold his gaze as Husk kisses his way back down your chest, sliding your bra strap down your shoulder gently. You gasp, arching up under Husk at the first touch of his tongue to your nipple. Angel’s smile widens.

Husk’s tongue is warm and wet and deliciously rough, and you moan as he sucks a teasing pressure around the hardened point. It makes your fingers tighten in his fur, and his other paw comes up to brush is claws over your other nipple. He pinches it and tugs, and the sudden pain makes you jump, and Husk snickers into your chest.

“Fuck, Husk…” you whine, eyes squeezed closed. You shift long enough to reach behind yourself and unclip your bra, tossing it aside as Husk immediately returns his attention to your breasts, paw kneading into the soft flesh. “Shit…”

“Ain’t he jus’ got the most magic tongue:” Angel coos, standing slowly. He makes his way towards the bed slowly, focused intently on how Husk’s back arches as he grinds himself into the mattress between your thighs. “Oh, he’s gonna make you feel so good, baby…”

Husk lingers at your breasts a moment longer, still purring deeply, before he continues lower. He dusts soft, teasing kisses down over your belly, paws smoothing down over the curve of your waist. He pauses just above the apex of your thighs, pressing the cold heart of his nose hard against your skin and inhaling deeply, his eyes closed.

“Christ…” he mutters, running his paws down over your hips and over your thighs, pressing them gently apart. His back arches in a long, fluid motion as Angel scratches his fingers through the fur along the cat’s spine. The spider’s touch lingers between his wing joints, and Husk groans, bumping his forehead against your thigh. “Fuuuuck… you smell so good, baby…”

“Husk…” you murmur, an ache throbbing between your thighs. You press your hips up, desperate for him to bring his mouth lower. “Please…”

“Oh, don’t you sound so pretty when you beg?” Husk rumbles, pressing an infuriatingly chaste kiss to your inner thighs, first one, then the other, his eyes watching your face hungrily. The smirk he wears is maddening, as is the snicker you hear from Angel. The spider sits next to you on the bed, stroking his fingers through your hair. You lean into the touch, eyes closing, a frown tugging at your lips as your impatience grows.

“Don’t she?” Angel agrees, nails scratching pleasantly against your scalp. “Be a nice kitty for her, baby.”

Husk’s smirk widens and Angel slips behind you, lifting you gently just long enough to fold his legs under you so your head is in his lap. The spider winks at you again, upside down, just as Husk finally slides his tongue slowly up over your clit.

“Oh, fuck!”

Angel giggles at the way you gasp, your hips rising off the sheets. Your eyes roll back as Husk flicks his tongue over your clit and the cat groans into your cunt at the taste of you. His paws clutch at your thighs, pinning you against the mattress, and while he planned on taking you apart slowly, the taste of you is already too addictive to let him pace himself.

Angel keeps stroking your hair with two hands, and your own reach down to grab at fistfuls of the fur between Husk’s ears. The bartender’s wings quiver as your nails scratch at his scalp.

Grinding your hips up against his mouth as best you can under his hold, you bite your lip against the downright pornographic sounds you can feel catching in his throat as Husk tortures your clit. Angel smirks, another hand coming up to glide over your chin, gently unhooking you lip from beneath your teeth. He giggles as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers blindly, curl your tongue against them and suck.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” he sighs, and Husk moans between your legs as he watches. “Oh, you’re in for a fuckin’ treat if you get her on her knees, Husk-baby.”

Husk chuckles, fangs grazing your inner thigh for a moment before he slides his tongue over your clit and down into your dripping cunt. He fucks you with his tongue eagerly, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit. When your fingers brush against the shell of Husk’s ears he purrs again, and you moan, loud and broken and keening as the sound vibrates up into your pussy.

Angel hums approvingly, withdrawing his hand to slide it down around your throat. He cups it, squeezes it just a little, and you cum with a hoarse cry of Husk’s name. There’s no doubt you’re being loud enough to be heard in the hallway but you don’t care, not with the way Husk’s tongue feels inside you, the way his claws are digging into the flesh of your hips.

Husk doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, your thighs clamping around his ears, one hand clutching at the fur between them. You can feel a wet patch on the comforter beneath your ass, and Husk’s expression is decidedly smug as he climbs back up your body, one suspender hanging off his shoulder. Angel intercepts him before you can kiss him, and you whimper as they kiss over you, Angel cupping the bartender’s head with two hands. You can see their tongues sliding against each other and when Angel moans at the taste of you, you whimper, grinding your hips up against Husk’s clothed erection.

He groans, breaking away from Angel with a breathless chuckle. “Needy little thing…”

Husk leans back down to kiss you, and you can taste a heady mix of the sweetness of Angel’s last cocktail and your own arousal on his tongue. When you reach between you to fumble with the fastening of his pants, he closes a large hand over both of yours, stilling you.

“Slow down, pet. I’ve…” he kisses you gently again, steadying his voice. “Hell ain’t exactly left me with the anatomy you’re expectin’…”

“Say it like that and you’re gonna scare her,” Angel teases, reaching out to rub his fingers against the base of Husk’s ear. The bartender purrs, leaning into it instinctively. Angel looks down at you, giving you a smile that’s somehow both reassuring and downright lascivious. “You’re gonna love it, aren’t ya, babydoll?”

You nod, and there’s a surprising thrill that’s curling inside you at Husk’s warning. Or maybe that’s the way his claws trail lightly up over your hip. He swipes his thumb over your clit again, and you jerk under the touch.

“Angel…”

“Look at her, Huskie,” Angel coos, giving his partner a teasing pout. “It’d be cruel to deprive our sweet girl now. She’s about thirty seconds away from beggin’ ya for it. ‘Sides,” he shrugs. “I got lube if she needs it.”

Husk raises a brow. “You’ve got lube?”

“What d’ya take me for? Some kinda amateur?” Angel says, affronted. “Course I’ve got lube!”

The bartender chuckles, rolling his eyes and apologising by pulling the spider into another kiss. You feel his paw loosen its grip where it still holds your hands against his zipper, and you palm his erection through his pants. Husk moans, shuddering under the touch as he pulls away to meet your eye. “We… we take it slow, alright?”

You nod, maybe too quickly from the way Angel smirks, but Husk accepts it and releases you. You make quick work of his fly as he slips off his suspenders, and your eyes widen as his cock is freed from the fabric. It’s tapered slightly, thickening to the base, and along the length of it are small, pointed barbs. Angel brushes hair away from your face, cooing softly. “They’re gonna feel so good inside you, baby… you’re gonna take his cock so good for us…”

You exhale shakily, a sound echoed by Husk as you wrap your fingers gently around the base of his cock. You stroke him experimentally, and the way the barbs feel against your palm… Husk moans as you squeeze him, stroke your thumb over the tip of his cock. He peppers kisses over your forehead, your temples and your cheeks, catching your lips again and kissing you deeply as you pump his cock slowly. Angel hums his approval and when Husk kisses your brow Angel hooks his fingers under the cat’s chin, bringing him up for another kiss of his own.

You can hear every reaction Husk makes to your touch, the way his breath catches, the way he moans into Angel’s mouth. He thrusts himself into your hand, and you stroke your other hand through the fur over his ribs. When Angel reaches past him to massage the base of Husk’s wings the cat gasps, jerking away from the both of you. “Christ, fuck, you two are gonna kill me here.”

You giggle, and Husk grins, leaning up to kiss Angel’s cheek before he settles himself back between your thighs. Your breath catches as the head of his cock presses up against your cunt, and Angel strokes your cheek as Husk slides an inch slowly into you.

“Oh, God, Husk…” you whine, hips shifting as you feel his cock stretch you open. “Fuck…”

“Look at you,” Angel whispers sweetly as Husk pulls back and presses into you again, sliding another inch into you. The bartender groans as you flex around him, his paws tight on your hips. “Look at how pretty you look like this...”

You reach up to clutch at the pillows and Angel wraps his hand around yours, interlacing his fingers with your own. Husk’s body is warm and firm and a wonderful weight over yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck as he tries to maintain this torturous, glacial pace. Each thrust of his hips stretches you further, and it aches wonderfully, each barb of his cock taking the breath from your lungs in a little ‘hahh’.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby,” Angel continues, trailing fingers of another hand along your other collarbone. “Bein’ such a good girl for daddy… makin’ him feel so good.”

Husk moans into your shoulder, teeth grazing the supple flesh. His paw spreads possessively over your waist, kneading into the flesh of your belly.

“Listen to how hot you get him,” Angel says, a third hand scratching the fur between Husk’s ears. “Look at how kitty fucks you… he’s tryin’ so hard not to hurt you, baby. But you’re so wet for him, aren’t you? You’re so wet and so ready and all you gotta do is say ‘please’… say ‘please’ pretty baby and Huskie’s gonna fuck you so deep and so good… fuck you like you deserve for bein’ such a good girl for him…”

“Fuck…” you whine, rocking your hips up to meet Husk’s. He’s almost completely inside you; the way he corkscrews his hips makes the barbs of his cock drag against the flesh of your cunt deliciously, and your eyes roll back at the feeling of it. “Fuck!”

“C’mon, baby,” Angel urges, sugar-sweet. The hand on your shoulder dips lower, teasing over the curve of your breast. He flicks his fingers over your nipple, and your breath catches in what could almost be a sob. “Beg nice and pretty for daddy and he’ll fuck you just how you need it. “

“Please,” you whine, brow furrowed in frustration as Husk pulls out completely, sliding his cock up against your clit. His breathing is heavy, torn with need of his own, and he dips his head to kiss you, hard and deep. You moan into his mouth as his barbs drag against your clit, and you wrap your arm around his neck, your other hand still locked in Angel’s. “Please, Husk… fuck me, please… Fuck… I need you to… please, Husk…”

“That’s a good girl,” Husk sighs, and the two of you moan in unison as he slides his cock back into you, his hips finally, finally flush with yours. “Holy… fuuuuck…”

“Listen to you two,” Angel says admiringly, his voice strung with his own desire. “Sound so fuckin’ pretty together…”

Husk fucks you deep; each time he pulls back he thrusts in again far enough to make your breath leave you in quick, cut moans. You raise your knees higher, trying to get him deeper, and Angel reaches down with his lower arms, hooks his hands under your knees and draws them up towards your chest. The angle makes Husk’s cock brush against something inside you with each press of his hips into yours and you keen with it, the sound tearing hoarsely from your throat, high-pitched and broken.

“That’s it, baby,” Angel tells you. “Tell daddy how good he feels; tell him how good he feels fucking you.”

“So good…” your breath catches in your throat as Husk touches a careful claw to your clit, your body shuddering with the added stimulation. “Fuck, it’s so good…”

Husk kisses the other side of your neck, tongue and teeth teasing over your pulse point before he kisses you again, sweet and deep and addictive. A purr rumbles through him as he speaks against your lips, bumping his nose against yours. “You feel so fuckin’ good, doll. Fuck, you’re like pure fuckin’ silk…”

Your voice comes out high-pitched, a whine that matches the tears burning in the corners of your eyes. “Please, Husk… I’m so close, I can’t… Husk…”

“’s okay, baby, I got you,” he kisses you again, brief but tender. “I got you, doll. Fuck, you’re so… Christ…”

You clutch at the fur at the back of his head, urging his face back down to your neck. Husk moves obediently, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck just as he thrusts deep into your quivering cunt. You moan aloud as you cum, eyes rolling back and rocking your hips up against his as soon as Angel releases your thighs. Husk groans into your throat, keeping his teeth buried in your sensitive flesh until he feels you slowly relax again. He laps gently at the mark he’s left behind, the roughness of his tongue making your body jerk with each stroke of it against your neck.

Husk’s breathing is just as laboured as yours, and he presses kisses over your cheeks, your chin as he steadies his hips. You whine as he slips his cock out of you, bucking up against him as he slides the barbs of it slowly against your clit.

“Fucking… holy shit,” you reach down to grasp at his hips, and Husk chuckles brokenly into the edge of your jaw as he stops moving. He kisses the bridge of your nose and you wrinkle it when it tickles, and you echo his laugh breathlessly as he brings his lips back to yours. Husk purrs against your lips.

“Fuck, you two are hot as shit,” Angel sighs, squeezing your hand. You hum happily, squeezing back, and Husk breaks the kiss to lean up and kiss him. It’s soft and languid and sweet, and Husk groans into it, rutting himself against your thigh. Angel coos against Husk’s lips, kissing him between words. “You still need to cum, don’t ya, kitty?”

Husk nods, groaning as you stroke your fingers through the fur of his chest. “Don’t tease me, legs.”

“Never, baby,” Angel promises with the sweetest smirk, petting the bartender’s cheek. “Now be a good boy and sit back for me.”

Husk does as he’s told, and Angel strokes your cheek with careful fingers. You lean into it contentedly, and his expression softens further with an affectionate smile. “How ya feelin’, dollface?”

“Take a guess,” you sigh happily and he snickers.

“Atta girl.”

You feel Husk smooth a paw up over your calf, and your body warms as you shift to meet his eye. He has his other paw wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly. Each time he reaches the base he squeezes, his breathing unsteady. His pupils are still blown wide, his wings quivering and his tail switching behind him.

“Roll over for him, baby,” Angel instructs you gently. “Up on your knees.”

You groan at the soft ache between your thighs as you roll over, hear Husk’s breath catch as you bare your naked back to him. You feel his paw smooth up the back of your thigh to squeeze your ass, and you lean back against him, his fur tickling at your bare skin, his cock hard against the curve of your ass. He wraps his arm around your middle, claws digging into the soft flesh in what feels addictively possessive, his other hand catching your chin and turning your face towards him. He kisses you over your shoulder, that sweet purr vibrating into your back.

Angel leans forward, turning your face away from Husk’s so he can kiss him instead, moaning quietly into the embrace. When they part, Angel surprises you by brushing his lips over yours. “Bend over, sweet girl.”

You shudder at his tone, a moan catching in your throat as you do as he asks. Husk moves to slide his cock between your thighs, and he groans, low and rough. Angel smooths hair away from your face as he guides you down to rest your cheek against his thigh, and your excitement sparks even brighter as you notice the spider’s erection beneath the tight fabric of his skirt, only a few inches from your face.

Husk thrusts into you again, nice and slow, exhaling heavily as your warm, wet cunt squeezes around him again. A shiver rolls up your spine as he takes hold of your hips, palms pressing into the flesh of your ass, claws digging into your skin. Angel’s lower hands move to your shoulders, pinning your chest to the mattress so your back is arched almost obscenely. He moans as you nuzzle your cheek against his clothed cock, and he gathers your hair in his fist so he can watch your face as Husk rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck, you’re an eager lil’ thing,” Angel giggles breathlessly. He pulls up his skirt, and you watch through heavy-hooded eyes as Angel strokes himself through the barely-there lace of his thong, the fabric damp with his pre-cum. “Look at how much you’re turnin’ us on, baby… fuck…”

He moans as you clutch at his thigh, nails digging into the lithe muscles hidden under downy fur. You rock your hips back to meet Husk’s every thrust, urging him deeper into you. The bartender is muttering a string of curses the closer he gets to release, the swearing broken by moans and half-there praise for the two of you. When Angel pushes his underwear to the side to wrap his delicate, talented fingers around his own cock, he and Husk moan in unison. Your eyes roll back as Husk’s hands tighten on your hips and his pace quickens desperately.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuck…” you grunt out each time his hips meet your ass, your throat raw. You reach beneath yourself to play with your clit, the sounds you’re making turning high pitched. Angel’s fingers grasp at your hair tighter, his hips rising beneath you to fuck himself into his hand. “Fuck, Husk… Angel… I… fuck…”

“Christ, baby, I can’t…” Husk moans, tail wrapping itself around your sweat-slick thigh. His feathers tickle at the soft, sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, at the back of your hand as you roll your fingers hungrily against your clit. “Fuck, I can’t—”

“Hear that, babydoll?” Angel asks you, his usually almost teasing lilt broken by his own desperation. Instead his voice is reedier, breathier, and it’s far hotter than any of the moans you’ve heard him make in any one of the pornos he’s showcased for the other residents. “Don’t ya want our sweet kitty to cum for ya?”

“Yes…” you choke out, your thighs shaking, heat pooling in the small of your back. Husk bends over you to press kisses along your spine, and you feel like you want to cry from all the warring sensations. “God, fuck yes—Husk…”

He growls in response, fangs grazing the middle of your back as he kisses the curve of your back. His paws tighten on your hips further, despite himself, and you find yourself thrilling at the idea that he might mark you.

“Gotta – shit – ask nicely, sugar,” Angel reminds you, nails scratching against the nape of your neck. “Beg for daddy.”

“Please,” you whimper immediately; you can taste iron from the way your teeth dig into your lip. You’re so fucking close, each thrust of Husk’s cock keeps you teetering on that precipice. Each graze of his rigid barbs against the inside of your cunt makes heat pulse through every inch of you and you need to feel him cum. “Please, Husk… please, I – uhnn—I want you to… fuck—cum for me…”

You reach back to grasp blindly for him, closing your fingers around his paw. You swear Husk almost whimpers at your touch.

“Cum inside me, Husk.”

The sound the bartender makes is sinful, an addictive mix of a deep, throaty moan and this cattish growl that you hope will be imprinted on your brain. He squeezes your hand back as he thrusts hard into you, his body curving over yours to press his chest against your back as he spills himself deep inside you.

A few more seconds rubbing furiously at your clit and you follow him, burying your teeth in Angel’s thigh in an attempt to muffle the way you cry out as you orgasm. Angel moans loudly, eyes rolling back, hips thrusting up, and you feel the warmth of his cum on your cheek. “Oh, fuck!”

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

The flush of the toilet seems a little too loud, and you stand on shaky legs in front of the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands, run damp fingers through your hair to tame it. Your eyes seem too bright, your cheeks still flushed and your bottom lip bee-stung. You touch fingers to the bruises darkening on the side of your throat, flashes of the way Husk’s mouth had felt there replaying in your mind.

Even after three orgasms strong enough to knock the breath out of you, excitement tickles between your thighs at the memory. You exhale shakily, trying to calm yourself, fill the glass on the side of the sink with cold water from the tap and swallow it down.

Holy shit.

There a few lighter bruises across your breasts; your nipple aches as you brush your fingers against the darker bruise beside it. You glance down, making a happy note of the scratch marks on your hips. They’re light, barely there, but a thrilling reminder all the same.

Holy.

Shit.

You’d just lost your virginity.

In a threesome.

With a former Overlord and Hell’s most famous porn star.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Pulling on the oversized tee-shirt you use a pyjamas and wishing you had a clean pair of underwear with you, you take another steadying breath, preparing yourself for an empty room. After all, Angel had explained at the beginning of all this that by going to your room, you’d ‘feel more comfortable telling them to fuck the hell off’ if you needed to. Now that the… experience was over, why would they stay?

So, when you open the bathroom door to find the two of them waiting for you on the edge of the bed, you almost trip over the area rug.

“We were startin’ to think you weren’t comin’ outta there,” Angel says lightly, giving you a reassuring smile. “You okay, sugar?”

You nod, tucking hair behind your ear uncertainly.

“You sure?” Husk asks. His expression is soft, and you’re surprised to see his muzzle is once again stained with a blush. “You look like you’re ready to rabbit. If we did somethin’ you ain’t—”

“What? No!” you assure him quickly, your cheeks warming to match his. “No, I just… I guess I wasn’t expecting you two to stick around.”

Husk raises an eyebrow, and something that could be hurt flashes briefly across his features. “D’you want us to go?”

“And skip the afterglow?” Angel says, like he’s playfully offended or shocked Husk would even suggest it. He stands, and you notice then that he’s changed his clothes – his everyday outfit exchanged for a pyjama set and thigh-high socks. He glances down at himself, offering by way of explanation, “Had to check on Nuggets. And ‘sides, I look cute as shit in this.”

The comment breaks some of the tension you’re feeling, and you huff a quiet laugh. Angel’s own smile widens and he closes the distance between the two of you. he turns and wraps an arm around your shoulders in the same friendly way he’s done a hundred times before, but this time he squeezes your shoulders, another hand coming up to play idly with the ends of your hair. You feel his lips brush your temple as he bends down to speak in your ear. “You want us gone, baby, all you gotta do is say so. But Huskie’s big on the aftercare and checkin’ in and all that. He waited here while I changed – don’t think he’s leavin’ ‘til he knows you’re happy.”

The sentiment warms you, and you lean into Angel’s side. You speak louder than he did, so Husk can hear you, too. You smile softly as his ears flick upward at the sound of your voice, husky and worn from overuse. “I’m happy. Still… not entirely sure if what just happened, happened, but happy.”

“If it didn’t, it might jus’ be hottest fuckin’ dream I ever had,” Angel laughs, fingers playing teasingly with the edge of your shirt. “Now go cuddle up to our boy before he combusts.”

Our boy.

Husk’s worried expression softens into a smile as you approach where he still sits on the edge of the bed, and he holds up a paw to you invitingly. His touch is warm and soft and wonderfully comforting as it wraps around your hand, and you blush when he turns your hand over to brush his lips to the inside of your wrist, a crease between his brows.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asks against your skin, his eyes opening to meet your gaze. You smile, bending down impulsively and pressing a kiss to the lines between his brows. A quiet purr sounds from him at the touch, ears folding down. The fur between his ears is dishevelled and it makes him look younger, less worn.

“I’m good.”

He smiles back up at you. “Good.”

“Fuck, you two are givin’ me a toothache over here.” Angel interjects in amusement, and you hadn’t even realised he’d made himself comfortable against the pillows and the headboard. “Now, am I gettin’ my ass cuddled good and proper here or what?”

You giggle, and he opens all four arms to you expectantly, a smirk playing over his features. Husk seems reluctant to let you go, his hand following you as you move to join his partner on the bed. Tugging your shirt down as best you can to cover yourself, you crawl onto the bed and laugh as you collapse into the spider’s waiting arms. He snickers, wrapping them around you, swatting your ass playfully with one hand. You shove him away with a laugh, breath catching in your throat as you feel Husk climb up the bed and wrap his arms around you.

You settle on your side between them, cradled against Angel’s chest and Husk pressed against your back. His wing curves around you, feathers tickling at your bare arm, his thighs pressed up against the backs of yours. He reaches over you to interlock his fingers with Angel’s, his face tucked in over your shoulder. Husk’s breath tickles at the side of your neck, and he hums contentedly as he inhales the scent of you.

“… Did you two change the sheets?”

Angel nods and grins, trailing fingers up over your thigh idly. “Ya left a hell of a wet patch, baby. Next time we should probably put down a towel.”

You swallow, tilting your head back to look at him. “… Next time?”

“Only if you want, baby,” Husk murmurs into the side of you throat. He shifts, leaning up over your shoulder. Angel hooks a couple of delicate fingers against your cheek in the same moment, turning your head so Husk can kiss you. It’s soft and sweet and wonderful, and you sigh into his kiss. Husk’s purr deepens. “No pressure.”

You turn back to the man you’re laying on, studying his expression. “Angel?”

His smile is warm and sincere, even as that teasing lilt to it remains. “Like I said, baby, I got no problem sharin’ with a friend.”

Husk rubs his forehead against your shoulder, up along the curve of your throat. His voice is soft and velvety, warm in your ear. “’s up to you, pet. We’d love to keep you.”

Again, happy birthday Keeks! Hope you liked this thoroughly un-proofread piece of smut. I am once again letting you know just how grateful I am to have you in my life - we've almost known each other for a year now, and I already cannot imagine life without you. You're an angel, and I love you :)

306 notes · View notes

sellasstories · 8 months ago

Text

CLOSE (I)

word count: 5.7k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

underage drinking, slightly explicit themes, light angst, swearing

prompts:

what happens when two best friends with strong, undefined feelings quarantine together (part 1: azzi)

in other words, the pazzi covid fic

“The best duo in the world is back together!” Paige shouts from the end of the Fudds’ driveway.

“Shut up! The whole neighbourhood doesn’t need to know they’re going to have to deal with you,” Azzi yells back. “And are you just going to stand there looking stupid forever?”

Paige doesn’t even bother to pout at the lighthearted insult, running over to crush Azzi in a suffocating hug. If her first thought when she’d seen Azzi standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her face had been how beautiful the other girl looked framed in the sunlight, it was only because she was delirious with excitement. This was actually like the best thing ever. She’s going to be living with her best friend. Her best friend that people always say she’s attached at the hip with, which doesn’t even make sense because they live so far apart. Well, now they really can be and Paige doesn’t know if she can be any more excited.

As her whole family helps Paige move her bags into the house, Azzi worries (too much, Paige would tell her). It’s not that she’s not excited — she really is — but she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to handle all of Paige for this much time.

•••••

Azzi has always been the shy one, the cautious one, never one to consider herself brave. She’s organized and methodical, and has never liked change or new things. She would cry at every new activity that her parents insisted she try as a kid, basketball included. She may have been shy, but she was never one to give up, and soon it was evident that basketball was different. Azzi had found her thing, and she was happy to throw herself into seeing how far she could take it.

Trying out for the U16 national team at 14 had been the scariest thing that Azzi had ever done, but she’d barely even had time to let the nerves set in before a blonde girl a few inches taller than her had confidently walked over and introduced herself.

Taking in Paige’s relaxed stance and cocky confident tone, Azzi had instantly recognized a rival. But as they both survived cut after cut and Paige kept talking to her (no less obnoxiously than the first time), Azzi’s mind reluctantly changed. This girl, her opposite in every way except their shared passion for the sport, was drawing her in like a magnet. Paige was loud, impulsive, and outgoing, and when Azzi was with her, she felt like she could be those things too.

By the time the tournament actually started, everyone was already referring to them as ‘Paige and Azzi’, and there was no question about who they’d be rooming with. The days passed and they only grew closer, connecting in a way that Azzi never had with anyone. She swore they were becoming one person. Azzi wasn’t brave, but when she reached out and took Paige’s hand in her own as they stood with gold medals around their necks, she felt like maybe she could be.

The rest was history. They kept talking every day, went to great lengths to go to each other’s games in different states, and were told over and over how ‘special’ their connection was. Azzi didn’t get it at first. Paige was her best friend, but everyone had a best friend that they loved the way she loved hers, didn’t they?

It had taken a couple years, but eventually Azzi had figured it out. Paige wasn’t just her best friend, she was her person. There was never going to be anyone else. There was no fanfare, no announcement or confession, just quiet acceptance as a 16-year-old Azzi had sat on her bed and tried to make sense of her uncharacteristically messy thoughts neatly scrawled in a little purple notebook that she carefully kept hidden from her parents and siblings. She’d confided only in Stewie before vowing to never tell anyone else.

Just this once, Azzi had been glad that she wasn’t brave like Paige. She wasn’t ready to change everything, especially when she already knew what Paige’s answer would probably be. She was almost positive that her best friend loved her, but she was also equally sure that it was only platonically. And that was usually fine. Azzi would take what she could get.

Azzi was disciplined, and she was able to keep up their routine, never acting in a way that would alert Paige. She knew their dynamic, and she could act accordingly. Well, mostly. It was so much easier when they were apart and Paige was just some pixels on a screen, just her goofy best friend.

When they’re together, Azzi has to exercise nearly all of her self-discipline. Because when she’s in the same room as Paige, she can’t ignore the way that her eyes shine and her smile is only ever kind. She can’t ignore the sharp lines of Paige’s body, from her cheeks to her collarbones to other places that Azzi is definitely not supposed to be looking at. And she especially can’t ignore how physical Paige is; touching, brushing, and grabbing without a care in the world because she’s just so full of love and has to get it out somehow.

•••••

So Azzi is worried. Not that she’ll get sick of Paige, but that she’ll ruin everything or somehow fall more in love, and she doesn’t even know which would be worse.

“AZZI!” Jon’s loud voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

She shakes her head. “What did you say?”

“I said thanks a lot for helping us with Paige’s stuff,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes as he goes inside.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” she calls to his back. How long has she been standing here? Shaking her head again, Azzi wanders into the kitchen where she finds her best friend talking to her parents. Paige is wearing a tank top. It looks like she’s put on some muscle since the last time Azzi saw her. Azzi stares at the ceiling. She’s fine. This is going to be fine.

•••••

Paige has a bad habit of setting herself up for disappointment. Her expectations for everything are through the roof, and while she figures the lofty ones she placed on herself are the reason that she was able to commit to UConn, she has to admit that it hasn’t helped her much in other areas of her life. School dances, birthday parties, even vacations, are never as fun as she makes them out to be in her head. But this ‘vacation’ (her parents told her not to call it that but she, of course, didn’t listen) is everything that she was hoping it would be.

Sure, it’s not like they’ve actually done anything crazy (unless you count shaving Azzi’s brothers’ heads, which she doesn’t), but anything that she gets to do with Azzi is going to live up to her expectations. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been missing out on by having a best friend that she couldn’t see every day. No matter what they’ve been up to, Paige still isn’t over Azzi being right next to her all. the. time. Paige thinks she could stare at the dark-haired girl forever. She thinks about how much she’s missed, how many parts of Azzi she didn’t know about before.

She never realized how much she loves the way Azzi talks. Sometimes, she’ll argue with her just to experience the changes in her voice and expressions. Paige wants to memorize them. She loves watching Azzi with her brothers, so similar yet so different to how she is with Drew. Paige thinks that Azzi will be a great mom someday.

She loves the way Azzi feels, too. Even though she’s been living with the younger girl for several weeks now, Paige always wants to be as close to her as possible. If there was ever any doubt that her love language was touch, it’s definitely been erased now. Paige thinks that she’d crawl into Azzi’s skin if she could. Obviously that’s not possible, but in this world where Azzi is one of the few people that Paige is allowed to get close to, she’s sure going to try.

The first week of her stay, she insists on her and Azzi picking some TV series to watch before bed, and if that results in them falling asleep where they are, she’s totally going to pretend that it wasn’t her plan all along. At first, it’s them on the couch in the living room with some or all of Azzi’s family, but the tradition quickly evolves to just the two of them settling into Azzi’s bed after the fifth night of them waking up sore from sleeping awkwardly on the couch.

Paige wouldn’t admit it, but she likes this second arrangement better, and not just because Azzi’s bed is more a comfortable place to sleep. She’s never had a problem sharing before, but Paige likes that this environment lets her have Azzi all to herself. Sure, anyone could still come in and watch with them, but Azzi seems to have some unwritten rule with her family about staying out of her space, and Paige can’t help but feel the urge to gloat that Azzi so readily lets her in.

And there’s another thing too, one that Paige doesn’t really understand. Even though Azzi’s bed is much bigger than the couch, they always seem to end up a lot closer than they were in the living room. Not physically closer (Paige had definitely fallen asleep on the couch sprawled on top of her best friend), but closer in a way that Paige realizes she’s glad the rest of the household doesn’t see. It’s not like the arms looped around waists and necks or the legs that always end up intertwined are particularly improper, but that doesn’t stop Paige from fighting the urge to pull away every time she hears a sound in the hallway.

She never says anything to Azzi, though, simply hoping the younger girl doesn’t notice, and their ritual of shared time cements itself as almost a nightly activity. Sometimes she gets sent back to her room by a tired Tim complaining about them being too loud or saying that they need some time apart, but they’re always back together the next night.

Of all the traditions established during their time together, this one is by far Paige’s favourite. She loves all the little pieces of Azzi that she gets to collect, but she holds this one just a bit closer to her heart than the others.

•••••

Paige knows she can never be bored of Azzi, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be bored with Azzi. Katie and Tim have gotten tired of filming TikToks for them, they’ve stopped keeping a record of who wins games of 21 and HORSE (which they play as UCONN), and Paige swears they’ve tried every quarantine activity.

They even managed to convince Azzi’s parents to let them climb onto her roof, which is where they are now. Azzi appears to be relatively peaceful laying on her back with her eyes closed, but Paige is sitting up and her fingers are tapping against the shingles as she looks to the next possible activity.

She sighs loudly. “What are we gonna do for the next month? Oh god, what if this lasts a year?”

“We’re literally on the roof,” Azzi turns her head towards the blonde. “Can we appreciate the fact that we even got permission for this for a second?”

“For a second, sure. But I’m so bored.” Paige gestures around them. “What is there to do here? We can only play so much one on one. Don’t you miss basketball, like real five on five… with contact and crowds?”

“Yeah, I do. I miss it as much as you do, P, but you know we can’t.” Azzi glances over to see if the other girl is even listening. “For now, you’re stuck with me and the hoop in my driveway.”

Paige groans as she flops onto her back. “I just don’t know how much more of it I can take!”

“I’m going to push you off this roof if you don’t chill out,” Azzi retorts. “You wanna get away from me that bad, huh?”

Paige barely even entertains the joke. “I literally came here to not have to get away from you- that doesn’t mean I won’t jump off and say you pushed me, though,” she sticks her tongue out at her best friend. “I wanna get away from here, with you, and go do something. At this point, it doesn’t even have to be basketball!”

Azzi is mostly focused on ignoring what the casual admission of Paige’s desire to be with her (but not like that, she chides herself) is doing to her heart, but she also wants to be a helpful friend. She pushes down her stupid feelings and hopes that Paige didn’t notice any changes in her expression.

“We’ll just have to find a new thing to do in the meantime.” Her face brightens. “We just thought of the roof thing today! There has to be something else.” A hush falls over the pair as they wrack their brains. At least Azzi’s inadvertent challenge is technically something to do.

“I know! Az, have you ever been drunk before?” Paige’s excited voice shatters the silence, startling Azzi, who sits up abruptly and lurches forward before catching herself.

“Jesus, P, I could’ve fallen!” Azzi takes a few deep breaths as she waits for her heart rate to return to normal.

Leaning back to make herself feel safer, she finally dignifies Paige (who looks way less apologetic than she should, in Azzi’s opinion) with an answer. “No, when would I have? You know I don’t really go to parties, and my parents would kill me anyway.”

“I’m gonna ignore that last part, because that’s what I think we should do,” seeing Azzi’s unimpressed expression, Paige raises her arms in surrender. “Hear me out! It’ll be funny, and it’s something new as well…”

“…and?” Azzi smirks. She knows there has to be something else.

Paige looks up at the sky. “And I’m going to college really soon and I don’t know if I’m ready for all that.”

“You’re so dumb sometimes. You don’t have to train for that, Paige,” Azzi laughs. “You’re going to be totally fine, I promise. So just to be clear, you’re suggesting either getting into a liquor store and somehow managing to buy something or… what? Stealing from my parents?”

“I guess?” Paige rolls her eyes, prior embarrassment forgotten. “You know what? Fuck you, it was just an idea.” She shoves the younger girl lightly.

“Paige Madison. What did I say about the roof?”

“My bad, my bad.”

They lapse into silence again. Finally, Azzi speaks up. “All I’m saying is that this idea would probably involve lots of lying and us getting in huge trouble. I just want you to know that.”

“Shut up,” Paige groans. “I already said we didn’t have to.”

“And I’m saying we should!”

Paige figures Azzi is still messing with her. She raises an eyebrow.

“For the record,” Azzi continues as if nothing’s happened, “I think stealing from my parents is the easier option, but we can do whatever you want.”

Paige doesn’t like how much fun the younger girl seems to be having with this. She’d call it off if she wasn’t already getting excited at the prospect. “Since you’re so smart, why don’t you figure all that out? Bring everything to me and I’ll show you how to make drinks.”

Azzi sticks her tongue out. “You say that like it’s hard.” She lies down, smiling proudly.

Paige takes a minute to admire the peaceful look on Azzi’s face, thankful that her best friend’s eyes are closed. Once she tears her eyes away, she resumes her position on her back as well. A gentle breeze passes over the girls and they both shift closer together until their sides touch.

As the sun sets in front of them, no words need to be exchanged because Azzi just knows to lift her head up so Paige’s arm can slide smoothly under it. They bask in the calmness around them, and for once Paige doesn’t feel completely at odds with it.

Azzi turns into Paige’s body even more. “Look at the stars,” she whispers in awe.

Paige smiles softly, her own shining eyes surely mirroring Azzi’s. “Have you never seen them before?”

“Never from up here. You can see the whole sky, it’s really beautiful.”

So are you, Paige’s brain supplies unhelpfully. She blinks rapidly, not totally sure where that came from. Instead, she says, “I bet we can find all the constellations.”

“I don’t think I know too many,” Azzi admits. “I just like to watch for shooting stars.”

“Don’t worry, I happen to know them all,” Paige brags.

At first, Azzi believes her, but as the names and patterns get more ridiculous, it’s clear that Paige has no idea what she’s talking about. Catching onto the game, Azzi is quick to make up some of her own. It soon devolves into a contest of trying to make the other laugh, and for once Azzi doesn’t pout when Paige is the clear winner.

Azzi looks at Paige at the same time as the blonde reaches an arm out towards her. Paige’s hand trails down Azzi’s forearm and side as it comes to clasp hers. Looking down at their interlocked hands, Azzi shivers, and she knows it’s not from the breeze.

Suddenly, she’s nervous to look up, not sure if she’ll be able to survive looking into the other girl’s eyes right now. Somehow, Paige has remained silent through all of this. Azzi drags her own eyes up and is still unprepared for how her best friend can undo her with a single look.

Paige is looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world. Azzi leans forward subconsciously as she’s pulled in by the intensity of Paige’s gaze. She sees the whole sky of stars reflected back at her, even a shooting star-

“Woah,” Paige breathes. Her eyes shift away and it breaks whatever spell Azzi had been under. She mentally kicks herself. She’d been seconds away from doing something truly stupid and she knows it. “Az, I think that was a shooting star.”

“Then you have to make a wish,” Azzi insists.

“You should too.”

“That’s not how it works,” Azzi giggles.

Paige frowns. “Can I give you my wish then?” Seeing the shake of Azzi’s head, the blonde has an idea. “Then I wish for us both to see another shooting star tonight.”

“Thank you,” Azzi whispers. “Even though you’re not supposed to tell me what you wished for,” she can’t resist adding.

“I want you to know,” Paige shrugs.

Azzi has scarcely opened her mouth to reply when she sees it. Clear as day, a bright streak right in front of her eyes. She shakes Paige’s shoulders urgently and points to the sky behind her best friend. “Look, look, your wish came true! It’s a shooting star!”

Paige seems unfazed as she follows the line of Azzi’s finger. “Good. I’m not telling you what I wish for this time, though.”

“Good, because that’s how it’s supposed to work,” Azzi reminds her.

They stare at the spot where the shooting star disappeared long after it fades into the night sky. Closing her eyes, Azzi doesn’t even have to think about her wish. If she’d known that right beside her, Paige was wishing for them to be this close forever, she would’ve been ecstatic.

If Azzi claiming a need to not fall off the roof is clearly just an excuse to wrap her body tightly around Paige’s, the older girl isn’t complaining. Especially when holding Azzi in her arms that night is making her feel more grounded than she has in a long time.

•••••

They decide to get drunk the next night. It’s difficult to act normal all day but they manage, finally getting to an acceptable hour to excuse themselves to go to bed.

Tim should’ve known something is up when Paige hardly puts up a fight after being told to go to her own room, but he’s tired and not about to complain about the normally difficult job being less so.

After that, it really is as easy as Azzi said it would be. She sets a timer for thirty minutes and paces her room as she watches it tick down. After completing a mental checklist of what she’s grabbing, she decides to change into a crop top and nicer shorts. Already feeling ridiculous, she suppresses the urge to fix her hair, pushes down the nervous energy, and goes back to pacing.

When she finally tiptoes into her dark kitchen, the whole house is silent. There’s never been an effort to hide the alcohol because Azzi’s never given her parents a reason to, and she’s thankful for that right now. She makes it to Paige’s room without incident and knocks as softly as she can.

The door opens almost immediately and Azzi feels slightly better when she realizes that Paige must’ve been pacing her room as well. The blonde leans on the doorframe as she looks Azzi up and down.

“Nice outfit,” there’s mirth in Paige’s tone, but no malice, and a part of Azzi wonders if she means it. What Azzi doesn’t know is that Paige considered doing the exact same thing but talked herself out of it, a fact that she will very much be keeping to herself.

“Shut up,” The younger girl whines before shoving her way into Paige’s room. She looks over her shoulder. “And, if I remember correctly, you have some drinks to make.”

Paige surveys the contents of Azzi’s raid. “Yeah, gimme a second.” In Paige’s defense, she doesn’t have a lot to work with. But she did also totally lie when she told Azzi she knew how. She doesn’t really know why, it’s not like Azzi would’ve cared or anything.

Maybe this should warrant further investigation, but Paige has put her pride on the line and nothing is more important right now than defending it. With almost laughably fake confidence, the blonde fills two cups with a mixture of vodka, Sprite, and tonic water. She hands one to Azzi, who gives her an incredulous look.

“You’re so full of shit. Are you even supposed to mix all this together?” The dark-haired girl sniffs the drink and wrinkles her nose.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Just trust me. Drink on three?”

“Fine.” Azzi takes a deep breath.

They touch their cups and Paige counts to three. When the drink hits the back of her throat, she attempts to save face by masking the sudden sensation that her mouth is on fire. Azzi has no such reservations.

“What the fuck is this?” She splutters. “That’s like, way too strong.”

“Don’t look at me,” Paige is quick to defend herself. “I didn’t have anything to measure with, and it’s not like it’s supposed to taste that good anyway.”

They continue to bicker back and forth as they figure out what they want to do. Azzi bans Paige from making any more drinks, and they agree to just drink from the bottle and have a cup of Sprite to use as a chaser. It’s also Azzi’s idea to sit on the floor with their backs against Paige’s bed, facing away from her bedroom door. It probably wouldn’t do much to prevent them from getting caught, but it does make them both feel a little better.

It’s quickly discovered that ‘Truth or Drink’ isn’t the best game for them. They already know everything about each other, and neither of them can seem to think of anything that the other isn’t willing to share.

Well, Azzi can think of one thing. She doesn’t want to bring it up because she definitely has more to hide, but as they pass the bottle back and forth and her mind starts to get hazy, her jealousy curiosity gets the best of her.

“Sooo, Paigey, wanna tell me about your crush?” Azzi can hardly get the question out before she dissolves into giggles.

Paige is genuinely confused. “My what?”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “Remember the Overtime video you did, the one I was literally in?”

“I forgot about that question, not gonna lie,” Paige shrugs. “It’s not like it’s true, anyway. That’s just what I say when people ask.” She leans her head back and puts an arm around Azzi’s shoulders.

Azzi’s not one to give up easily. “You must have one, though.”

Paige pushes the side of Azzi’s head into her chest. “Who says I do?” This doesn’t seem to deter her.

“Me,” Azzi’s voice is muffled as she continues. “If you didn’t, you would’ve just said no one. No need to have a cover unless saying you didn’t would’ve been an obvious lie,” the younger girl reasons, smiling triumphantly. “So I’m asking again, who is it?”

Paige looks away. “No one,” she mumbles, cheeks burning.

Azzi looks up at her with a shit-eating grin. She’s vaguely aware of how quickly this could turn on her, but she’s having too much fun to care. “Aww, are you embarrassed?”

Paige doesn’t answer, taking a deep breath before bringing the bottle to her lips. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tries to hide her expression of disgust at the strong taste. “But you’re just so perfect, right? The Azzi Fudd, best basketball player in the world, doesn’t have time for silly things like crushes, does she?”

Azzi would be lying if she said that she had any idea what was going to come out of her mouth. “I never said that.” She cringes inwardly at herself. Paige had literally given her an out and she hadn’t taken it.

“So who’s the lucky guy?” Paige’s tone is playful, but Azzi’s entire world has suddenly narrowed in on that one simple sentence. Her mind is floundering, going too fast and too slow at once, and the urge to finally share her secret is almost overwhelming. Briefly, she imagines how freeing it would be to say it out loud. But she’s kept it together this long, and Paige Bueckers is not going to break her, even if it seems like she’s getting closer every day.

Azzi has to say something, and she can feel the words ready to spill out like a rising tide. As Paige’s smirk grows at what she perceives to be Azzi’s own embarrassment, the younger girl realizes that she’s going to have to give something up.

And so, ever the analyst, ever the planner, Azzi trades one truth for another. Even if it feels like the safer option in her head, she freezes as the words fall from her lips, eyes fixed apprehensively on Paige’s face.

“I never said it was a guy.”

Paige’s mouth opens and closes, and Azzi is paralyzed. She thinks it might be the alcohol, but her mind is completely blank and she’s suddenly struggling to breathe. Is this what drowning feels like? There’s only one way to interpret what she said, and she can’t take it back now.

“Sorry, are you-” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose. “That’s cool, congratulations?” She smiles ruefully. “I’m sorry, Az, I promise I’d be handling this better sober.”

It’s Azzi’s turn to smile cautiously. “You wouldn’t have gotten this out of me sober,” she admits, tipping her head back to rest against the side of the bed.

Paige finally collects her thoughts. “So, are you like, a lesbian then?” She asks, ignoring Azzi’s most recent statement. This is the first time her best friend has admitted any romantic interest, and she wonders if that might be why.

“It’s not your turn to ask questions,” the dark-haired girl groans. “But no, I don’t think so. I haven’t thought about it too much honestly, but I think I’m probably bi.”

Paige nods slowly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Azzi’s heart beating out of her chest as she waits for her friend’s judgment.

“This is gonna sound so dumb now,” Paige blurts out suddenly. “I think I might be, too. That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you who my crush was. It was a girl at my school, her name is Imani.”

The words don’t register all at once. Azzi first experiences relief — Paige likes girls too, this won’t make anything weird, then hope — Paige likes girls, maybe there’s a chance?, which quickly turns to disappointment — Paige likes another girl. She hardly feels the tears welling up as not me not me not me echoes unchecked in her mind.

But Paige sees them, and soon she’s pulling Azzi against her chest, fully this time, opening her legs so that Azzi can sit in between them. “That was really brave of you, you know that, right?” She whispers.

The tenderness in the blonde’s voice is the final straw before the tears are spilling down Azzi’s cheeks. “That’s supposed to be your thing,” she retorts with a watery smile. Paige lets out a soft laugh, and Azzi joins her, not completely sure if she’s laughing or crying as the tears continue to pour out.

If Paige’s shirt gets a little wet, she doesn’t comment on it. And Azzi falls just a little deeper, lacking both the mental and physical strength to stop herself. She might be a rational person, but just this once she lets herself indulge in a small feeling of superiority because right now she’s in Paige’s arms and this Imani girl isn’t.

They must’ve fallen asleep there because Azzi has only a dim memory of gentle but firm hands urging her to get up onto the bed before slipping warm fabric over her head.

•••••

Azzi wakes up in what has to be the middle of the night. She must still be drunk because there’s a light haze over her vision. Her surroundings register as she sits up. How did she get back in her room, and where is Paige?

She jumps a little when she sees a figure sitting on the floor by her bed, calming down as she recognizes the familiar silhouette.

“Paige? What’s going on?” She calls out.

Paige turns to look at her over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Nothing, just looking at the moon. It reminds me of you, you know?” She turns back, offering no further explanation.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Azzi blinks heavily. “Please just come lie down, it’s so late.”

Azzi has half a mind to ask Paige to close her blinds (she certainly remembers closing them, but doesn’t dwell on it), but when she stops to admire her best friend in the pale glow of the moonlight, she decides she might not mind them being left open.

Paige is sitting on the bed now. She places a hand on Azzi’s wrist. “You’re hot, lie on me above the covers.”

Azzi hadn’t given it a single thought beforehand, but now that Paige has pointed it out, she definitely is feeling warm. The blonde really does seem to know her better than she knows herself.

Paige lies down and Azzi shifts so that her back is on Paige’s chest. Azzi, getting hotter by the second, bends up one short-clad leg. Soon, Paige is tracing it lightly from knee to thigh. Her nails graze the bare skin, sending shivers across Azzi’s whole body.

Paige lets a hand creep under Azzi’s shirt to rest on her stomach. Azzi’s legs fall open and the movement causes the hand on her stomach to slide just under her waistband. Paige doesn’t pull away. Azzi doesn’t tell her to. Azzi is burning up. She wonders if Paige is too.

Azzi grits her teeth and tries to calm the fire in the pit of her stomach and the war being waged in her head. Please just fucking touch me.

She shifts her hips again, marginally enough to still be played off, but also enough for Paige’s hand to shift farther down than is acceptable, even for them. Paige’s fingers curl slightly on instinct and Azzi almost moans.

“Is there something you want from me?” Paige asks cautiously, no hint of teasing in her words.

Azzi looks up at the blonde desperately.

“More,” she breathes, biting her lip. Paige’s wide eyes don’t leave hers as the hand on her stomach gets tantalizingly closer to where she needs it-

•••••

Azzi’s eyes snap open. She’s lying on her back, like she was in the dream, and Paige is there too, but the blonde is fast asleep, her face pressed into a pillow. Shaking her head slightly, Azzi stares up at the ceiling. She’s in Paige’s room, where she fell asleep, apparently wearing one of her best friend’s hoodies.

Grimacing, Azzi resolves to never drink again. Her mouth is dry, her head is pounding, and she feels like she might actually explode. She’s already stressing about dealing with the consequences of the previous night, and she’s certainly not willing to process her dream on top of all of that.

She looks down at the way Paige is draped across her body, a hand resting possessively protectively over Azzi’s waist. It tightens at the first sign of movement, leaving Azzi no choice but to stay right where she is. She thinks she could get used to this feeling of belonging.

Azzi reminds herself why she can never say anything, what she would lose if she did. She knows that Paige loves her — though last night made it explicitly clear that it’s not like that — and she would never risk that love or that trust. Sighing, Azzi tries to get comfortable without waking Paige, making sure to keep her legs firmly squeezed together. She’s fine. This is fine. This is enough.

#pazzi my loves #close #the covid fic #paige my love #azzi my love #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi fic

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