#at least I had fun writing this silly thought

[interact-if]

Black History Month Author Spotlight: Lapin

To kickstart the Black History Month Author Spotlight series, I'd like to introduce everyone to our first IF author, Lapin (@harlequinoccult)!

(I had a ton of fun reading Lapin’s answers, and I’m sure you will too! Read on for a celebration of ‘weird,’ Lapin’s Black southern gothic / horror influences, and how a D&D game could lead to interactive fiction!

Lapin, thank you again for your candid, humorous responses, I am very honored to have gotten to know you better :D)

Author: Lapin

Black creole and cajun, artist and writer, and wannabe game developer

Games: Slaughter Squad (Horror, Slasher, Romance)

Synopsis: YOU HAVE A HUNGER A HUNGER THAT YOU’VE BEEN NEGLECTING For the most part, you’re a pretty normal mid-20-something year old who lives in a shitty apartment in the city. Well, except for one thing. Your.....”Associate” Carter “Dollface” Abernathy. Who is a murderer, and quite frankly, a sloppy one at that. And you’re the accessory to his crimes. No matter what way you’ve gotten to know the man, or how you feel about him, you’re stuck with him, and stuck with just being his little “helper” ........Or are you? Especially when you’re suddenly given a....Unique opportunity.

Games: The Valley of Luck (Fantasy, Adventure, Romance)

Synopsis: The Valley of Luck was said to be a myth. Something that grandparents would tell their grand-kids around a campfire. Even those who worshiped Lucian, The God of Luck, thought it nothing but an old wives tale. Until, one day, a man with an arm made of solid gold started telling people that he'd been there, that he'd seen the Valley. Word spread quickly, and suddenly, every continent was alight with the rumor that The Valley was real, that it could give you all the riches you could ever want, and then some. However, your quest, whether related to The Valley or not, will lead you down a much stranger path.

Quote from the interview:

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household… Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. … I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs….I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

Both parts of my family are 100% from Louisiana, New Orleans and the deep south. My moms side have been there so long, we have two streets named after us.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

My main project, of course, is Slaughter Squad. I love slasher movies and horror media in general. But what I always noticed with horror/romance, at least in the visual novel scene, is that the main character is nearly always the one getting screwed over, so I thought, well, what if the bad guys actually are your peers? How would this dynamic change if they don't see you as prey? I never thought that premise would appeal so much to so many but hey, I can't complain! I adore seeing people having fun with the silly little concept I had.

Now, my secondary project, The Valley of Luck. Some may not know this, but this story is based off of a D&D campaign I DM'ed back in the day with my friends. All the ROs are NPCs that my friends had, or where going to encounter. I won't lie, I did shy away from it and changed some things when the whole debacle with Wizards of the coast (the company that "owns" D&D) Where making some...questionable decisions. But this story is my baby. My first born. This one has been in the works far longer than SLSQ and has a lot of background lore that I hope I get the opportunity to share.

I do have a few other projects bumping around, One I am particularly excited for, But that one will have to wait a little bit~

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My upbringing was a bit odd. I am the youngest of three, two older brothers, one being a half brother, in a black military household. I never felt that I truly had a sense of identity until that household inevitably split up. Everyone talks about being the weird kid in middle school, but no one mentions being the "normal on the outside but wants to be the weird kid so bad its painful on the inside but can't because you were told that stuff is 'white people shit' " type of kid.

Middle school Lapin was a jock. But, lo and behold, the internet started getting more popular and that kid's brain exploded from internet exposure, for better and for worse. I was a little shitter on the internet, I can't lie about that, as much as I want to. But I feel that there is a specific and niche demographic of people like me that were raised by early 2000s to 2010s internet. And on that era of internet, were creepypastas, online horror, early ARGs....I ADORED internet horror, which was my gateway into classic horror, funnily enough. Slaughter Squad, in my eyes, is a letter to that black kid that wanted to be weird. Be weird, be messy, see a fucked up movie, get more out of life.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

Let your characters speak through you like you're being possessed by a demon.

What’s the one thing you’re really proud of that you’ve written so far? Do you have a favorite character or scene that you’ve written?

I am so serious.

is it wildly inconvenient? yes. does it help your writing a ton? also yes. Doing Roleplay with friends is a fantastic way to learn to do this. being a DM for a D&D game has basically made it so characters can simply speak from my brain at any given moment. It's also annoying because some of these people do NOT shut up. Learning how a character would react on the fly does wonders for dialogue writing and character analysis. Roleplay with your friends, or hell, strangers who are down to clown that could become friends. Be cringe. be free.

I love the opening to Slaughter Squad and if you told me to rewrite it with a gun to my head I would tell you to shoot me. I love how punchy it is and it came out exactly how I wanted it to. I don't play favorites with characters (<- lying) but my two favorites to write are the stinky little bastard cat Sterling in TVoL and.....Carter, from SLSQ. I love writing complete bastards. One being lighthearted and gets a pass for it because he's just a kitty cat and the other you want to actively beat his face in with your bare hands. It's SO funny.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

Write. Write it now. Doesn't have to be good doesn't have to be polish all that matters is that you WROTE IT. All the bells and whistles can come later!!!! Stop thinking about the later and think about the now!!!! Write what you love and never give two shits about if it's cringe!!! Be excellent to each other!!!

Any books, music, movies etc. you’re obsessed with at the moment, or which changed your life (or perspectives on something)?

GO LISTEN TO CHROMAKOPIA BY TYLER THE CREATOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!

This-or-that segment: (bold = Lapin’s pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

City or countryside?

Angsty or Cozy romances? (Or enemies-to-lovers or best-friends-to-lovers?)  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Summer or Winter?

First drafts or editing?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

Characters or plot first?

Lapin’s custom “this-or-that” pairing: Rain or Shine

More on Black Southern Gothic:

Black southern gothic can vary a lot, but when I think of it, I think of old semi abandoned wood shotgun houses in the swamp, all white tiny baptist churches where the white paint is peeling from the heat and humidity, riding horses down a dirt paved street while people still ride by in their old busted down 1960s chevys. Old plantation houses that have been reclaimed by the swamp. The dark, humid heat of the night on a street with no streetlights. Every house you see is absolutely haunted by something and not just ghosts. Voodoo and hoodoo is different than what people will tell you it is.

Sassafrass, Cypress and Indigo by Ntozake Shange, Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jessamin Ward, and anything by Toni Morrison 100%.

[temporarywelcome]

Hospital Visit - Spencer Reid

REQUESTED!

The Request: Your smooth criminal series is actually perfect!!!! Ahh I love the way you write both of them and their dynamics with the team. Obsessed 💕 Request: Kleptomaniac!Reader twists her ankle or like gets hurt due to practices during a dance and ends up at the hospital and worried spencer comes and sees her stealing little equipments again and her trying to leave because she doesnt want to miss her dance. (I really didn't know how to frame what I was thinking but honestly i think whatever you write will be amazing) -anonymous

CW: swearing, a bit suggestive towards the end. Technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series though you don't need to read the other parts to understand!

AN: I'm half Dominican so yes I can poke fun of Dominican people 🙄 lmao this character I created for this is loosely based off of my grandpa-. Also totally forgot the "her trying to leave" part so I might make a seperate fic with that, mb...

_____

Words: 2k

Spencer Reid wasn’t one to leave work early. 

When there was not a case and the Behavorial Analysis Unit was busy at the office, Spencer never left early. For him, that is ridiculous. Other members of the team like Hotch and JJ would have their moments where they would have to dash out of the building with barely any warning, due to little emergencies with their children. It barley happened, but when it did, it was understandable. 

Spencer, on the other hand, did not have children to worry about. He never had a reason to leave work. 

Until his phone rang. 

Flipping it open, his brows furrowed when he noticed who it was. His girlfriend. Her calling him in the middle of work never raised any alarm. She probably just brought him some lunch again, which she did a few days ago. Or some drama happened in a show she was watching and she just had to let it out. Probably something silly like that. 

But, wait! She had said she was going to be at the studio early today to get in some extra practice before rehearsal. So why would she be calling him instead of practicing?

“Hello?” he placed the phone to his ear. 

The voice on the other end answered in panic, “Hello? Is this Spencer?”

That was not his girlfriend. Instead, it was a man with a heavy accent, the genius deduced Dominican. What the fuck was she doing with this guy? 

“Yes, I’m Spencer, as the contact ID says,” Spencer replied curtly, feeling a hint of jealousy brewing within him, “Who is this?”

“I am Flavio!” the man replied confiently, “Flavio Herrera de León! I-”

“-Why are you calling me from my girlfriend’s phone?” Spencer interrupted in annoyance, “Where is she?”

“Oh!” the man laughed awkwardly, “On the floor! I will be taking her to a hospital now!”

Now Spencer was shooting up to his feet, gathering his things as he spoke, “Hospital?! Why do you need to take her to the hospital? Why is she on the floor?!”

“Very bad injury,” said Flavio, “I worry for her,”

Very bad injury?!

“What do you mean by that?!” Spencer mouthed to Hotch a quick ‘I gotta go’, not waiting for an answer as he sped towards the door, “How bad-”

“-Must take her to hospital. Blood everywhere. Bye bye!” And with that, fucking Flavio hung up the phone, leaving Spencer in an even worst panic. Blood everywhere? What the hell was Y/N doing?

Knowing her, it could have been anything. Every possible thought went through his head, every possibility. She was zoned out and got hit by a car. She tried to befriend a dog that wasn’t very friendly. She fell down a flight of stairs. 

She stressed him the fuck out. 

After breaking at least twelve traffic laws, Spencer found himself at the ER, pushing past people to get to the receptionist. “Y/N L/N,”

Not looking up at him from her computer, the woman replied with: “Relation to the patient?” 

Ugh. “FBI. Let me see her,” he waved his badge at her. He knew this was unprofessional and an abuse of power, but this was his girlfriend. The girl he was planning to marry someday. Who he was convinced stupidly got herself into this medical emergency. 

Abuse of power be damned. 

He was led through the ER to her room, bursting in. He was expecting tubes and machines connected to her unconscious form, maybe a cast or two. He was expecting to be completely traumatized by the sight before him.

Not his girlfriend shoving surgical gloves into her pockets. 

Her head snapped into his direction, eyes wide, but when it hit that it was Spencer and not a doctor, she sighed, body relaxing. “Shit, Spence, why didn’t you just kick the door down while you’re at it?” she said sarcastically. 

He did not find her amusing. She didn’t even know if her words registered to him. “What happened?!” he felt like he repeated that quite often today. He cupped her jaw, turning her head in all different directions while looking for any wounds, “That guy said there was blood everywhere! Where are you hurt?!” his eyes went from her face to the rest of her body. 

“He’s so dramatic,” Y/N groaned, “There was blood everywhere because I had gotten a bloody nose from hitting the floor.” She grabbed his hands that were now on her shoulders, bringing them to her cheeks. Her eyes closed and lips curled into a smile, nuzzling into him. “No broken nose,”

“Then why the hell are you in the hospital?” 

“Sprained ankle. Doctor said I won’t be able to dance for about three weeks,” Her eyes opened, meeting his, and all his anger and anxiety vanished. She was okay. She was safe. Not mauled by a dog or hit by a car. 

Safe. 

“Next time you get an injury like this, please call me yourself,” Spencer sighed in relief, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Your friend scared me to death,” 

“My friend is super dramatic,” she giggled, already sensing his dislike towards Flavio, “He thought I broke my foot and my nose,” 

“Of course he’s dramatic. Birds of a feather flock together,” Spencer tried to joke, hands now resting on her waist, “You know… You never told me you were practicing with this friend. I thought you were practicing alone,” 

“Didn’t think I had to specify,” Yeah, he was so jealous, it was so obvious to her. 

“You should, so in the case you get kidnapped, I would have somewhere to start-”

“Spence!” she gasped, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Not only is that really anxiety-enducing, but I know for a fact that’s not why you wanted to know.” Y/N smirked, leaning closer to him, “He has a wife, Spence.”

“And? People cheat all the time. About twenty percent of married men cheat on their spouses-”

“How little do you trust me though?” she huffed. 

“It’s him I don’t trust,” Spencer corrected himself, “I trust you. Of course, I trust you,” As he spoke, he removed the surgical gloves from her pockets, “Even when you steal all of my things and I have to buy replacements because you lost them after, I still trust you. It’s just…” he trailed off, throwing the now contaminated gloves into the trash bin. 

“Just what?” As he distracted himself with the gloves, she reached out and grabbed a handful of q-tips from the table next to the examining bed she sat on, now putting those into her pockets. 

Spencer turned to face her again, “It’s just that, with this job, I see so many horrible things happen to women. And the thought of something happening to my woman scares me,” His arms went around her again, “Every time I get a case file and see a woman’s body, it occurs to me how easily it could be you,” 

“...damn,” she cleared her throat, looking down, “Gee, now Imma be scared to go outside,” 

“No you’re not,” his hands slipped into her pockets, taking out the q-tips. Spencer always noticed everything. “You’re going to continue being you and I’m going to continue worrying about you every time we’re apart. I do wish you would be more careful. I know right now you were with this guy for work-related reasons and you had to, but at least tell me?”

“Mhm,” she nodded softly. He went to throw out the q-tips, and while he did so, she began shoving gauze into her pockets next. 

“Put the gauze back,” he said firmly, not even looking at her as he disposed of the material. 

“I can’t help it,” a huff left her lips as she tossed the box (yes, she attempted to steal the whole box) back onto the counter. 

“Tell me why you need a whole box of gauze, dear,” Spencer always spoke like that when addressing her kleptomania. Why do you need this object you are stealing? And they both would know she didn’t need it, and she would keep repeating that in her head until the urge (hopefully) went away. 

“I don’t need a whole box of gauze,” she stated the obvious, taking a deep breath, “I don’t need a whole box of gauze,”

“You don’t need a whole box of gauze,” Spencer confirmed, taking her hands like he always did when she was getting her urges, “Or q-tips. Or surgical gloves. What do you possibly need to examine with those, hm?” he said the last part lightly, nuzzling her nose with his. 

A smirk formed on her face as she spoke, “You?” 

“Me? And how would you do that?” 

“Can examine the part of you I love most….” she trailed off, in thought, “Wait, that’s hard. That was supposed to be me saying your dick however is that really what I love most? ‘Cause, like, look at you,” 

She always knew how to make his cheeks burn red. “What else do you love then?” 

“Oooh, where do I begin?” she threw her arms up in the air dramatically, “Okay, let me start with your facial features…”

____

By the time she was cleared by a doctor and allowed to leave the room, Spencer had a good hickey or two (four actually) on his neck and a giddy expression on his face. Once in the waiting room, a man shot up seeing Y/N, Spencer immediately assuming Flavio. 

“Ah, mi flor,” he exclaimed, examining her all over, “Nothing is broken! How good!”

“Yep, all good,” Y/N replied, “Flavio, meet my boyfriend, Spencer. Spencer, meet Flavio, one of my dance partners for my current show,” 

Spencer and Flavio shook hands, Y/N giggling softly at the look Spencer was giving him. Oh, she knew damn well Spencer was profiling the fuck out of him. To most people, Spencer looked like he had a blank expression on his face, but Y/N knew him better. There was something about Flavio that Spencer did not like. She wasn’t sure if it was the simple fact this was a man who spends alone time with his woman, or something else entirely. 

“It is so nice to meet you, Spencer!” Flavio shook his hand cheerfully, “I have heard many good things about you!” 

“Oh, really?” that made Spencer cheer up slightly, “I’m glad to hear that,” he draped an arm around Y/N’s waist. Spencer didn’t look like the type, but he was incredibly possessive, which was fine, because Y/N was possessive as fuck over him. Spencer precieved everything friendly said to her as flirting, though, when someone actually flirted with him he wouldn’t catch it. It was cute, but also frustrating, because then the only way to get these people to leave him alone is a threat or two coming from her. 

Flavio opened his mouth to speak, but paused when his phone rang. He flipped it open, seeing the caller ID. “Ah, I must take this. My girlfriend is calling,”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, “I thought you were married?”

“Yes yes, I am,” the dancer shrugged, “My wife is here. My girlfriend is in la Republica Dominicana,” And with that, he was off, babbling into the phone. 

“I told you,” Spencer rolled his eyes, glaring at Flavio’s retreating form in disgust, “Twenty percent,” 

“You best not be part of that twenty percent in the future or I’ll end up being an unsub your team has to catch,” Y/N threatened lightly, pinching his side. 

“Hey!” he gasped, “What makes you think- wait,” hard stop, “Does that mean you see yourself marrying me someday?”

She smirked, beginning to walk (limp) towards the exit, “Hmmmm, maybe?” 

“Wait! Wait, you can’t just drop that and wobble away from me!” He followed after her, a huge shit-eating grin forming on his lips.

[youchangedmedestiel]

This gif is funny to me because Cas winks at Dean (for the first time I think, well probably Endverse!Cas did too, but it's not the same), and Dean's reaction here is priceless.

Imagine. Just imagine and ignore what Cas says here. What could be going on in Dean's mind based on the faces he makes? Here's an idea:

"Shit, he winks now. Yep, it's the end for me." And then off camera it keeps going, Dean can't stop thinking about it, "I can't resist him if he winks at me like that. Fuck. No no, no fuck. Arghhh. Please send help. Sam is there. Think about something else. Anything. Yes, that's better. No, don't look at him. Shit! He is a dork and so fucking cute and hot, all of that at the same time. How is that even possible? Oh, I'm so gone for him. Cas, please stop. But keep going, I need more."

[chessb0r3d]

i cracked the code.

[shannonsketches]

I grabbed a bunch of caps for that last post so here's a few more in my favorite genre of bejíta

[solplease]

here's something no one asked for, my ocs when they were a bit younger! :] (more like how they were in highschool lmfao) ((not aster tho sorry my king. u did not have a highschool.))

as always, close ups and more info under the cut!! OH and i put an updated relationship chart at the very end!! it's in writing this time because i thought that would be easier (it's long.) </3 i am so sorry in advance there's a lot under this HAHA

lune:

lune was a little shit, he's very rebellious now but he was even more rebellious when he was a teenager lmfao

he would CONSTANTLY get into fights, anyone that pissed him off he did not hesitate to attack

his relationship with his parents was already bad but it quickly deteriorated at this point in time

he was relatively popular in school but uh, everyone stayed away from him or tried to be on his good side because... well yk! didn't wanna get attacked..?

also people thought he was annoying but hey at least he was good looking!

he did not know he was popular btw. like at all, no idea, still doesn't know

his grades were like... okay, not great, but not bad, and he would skip class a lot... dumbass

his nails were constantly painted different colours bc cecilia would do them often, he was also never seen without a bracelet on his right wrist

huge troublemaker (some things never change!)

he hasn't really changed since then lmao

cecilia:

she was a bit more reserved back in highschool, still nice and friendly but she had a hard time approaching others because she was nervous (and others found her a bit intimidating cause she didn't smile much) ((and she's related to lune and that guy was known for being crazy))

her and lune were known as "those rich twins"

was constantly stressing over lune because of how much he got in trouble it's not like their parents would do anything about it.

kept her hair long and undyed! she liked doing different things with her hair and would try out diffy styles a lot of the time

she liked having long hair, and randomly cut it off impulsively lmfao (3 am on a school night, she couldn't sleep and was like ok why not)

good student, wasn't always at school but she was doing well

hated going to school, couldn't tell you why, just hated it

she was really awkward as a teen, but she was trying her best

always had bracelets on, if you saw her she had a bunch on her left hand, and then just one on her right.

always had her nails done (she did them herself ^^)

would always carry a few hair ties on her in case any one needed to tie their hair

one time she tried to be cool and approached a girl who didn't have a hair tie and just dropped it in her hands and walked away (she then walked out of class bc she felt embarrassed)

she tried out a lot of different clothing styles

nox:

so, he still had a shitty sleep schedule!

hard to find, he was always somewhere, no one knew where tho

good student, did not give two shits about school though

not very memorable? he was quiet and would leave as soon as he could

every time there was a group project he would ask the teacher to work alone

didn't have any friends.

his classmates were kinda scared of him lol

would braid his hair a lot

had blue on him at all times, there will ALWAYS be blue in his outfits, whether it’s the shirt, pants, or a hair tie, he always had SOMETHING blue on him (this applies now too)

no one really knew much about him, and he liked keeping it that way

fuckass edgelord (kinda)

he was always like 5 minutes late to his first class (there was a cat that would wander around in front of the school and... he couldn't resist)

he would go see that cat every day btw. before and after school, he would also go eat lunch outside so he could see the cat (and he always brought something for it too!)

loser

cassian:

very social! had a lot of friends and was very outgoing

always doodling in class

he was rather popular! and well i guess some people didn't like that

he was known as the rich kid but people were always giving him things because he was super sweet HAHA

a really bright and helpful guy

he was usually seen with a smile on his face

it's a shame how things turned out, hm?

he would bring his shoujo manga to class and just read that (he was always sitting at the back of the classroom bc he was tall so the teachers didn't really pay attention to what he was doing)

and in the rare chance his teachers saw him doing something other than classwork they would mostly let it slide, he's a good kid, so it's fine (favouritism.)

lowkey the typical popular shoujo manga male lead (wow! just like he wanted!)

really good student too, always on top of his stuff

he had these sword earrings that he really liked, he used to wear them a lot!

always wore darker and muted colours, and liked more comfortable clothing

no one said anything but they really missed him after he left, maybe if someone helped him, things would've been different

rowan:

was completely different when he was younger

always angry, or sad, no one really knew what he looked like when he smiled

no one knew what was going on with him

but he was quiet, and didn't talk to many people, he wasn't a mean or scary kid, but people were still intimidated by him

his hair was longer and uneven, it looked like he had cut random bits and pieces

he was smart but wasn't doing so well in school

it always looked like something was stressing him out

he would stay behind after school

tense and uneasy most of the time

hair super healthy tho LMFAO (his mom would oil his hair regularly!)

he was completely different around his mom though, his source of comfort

if anyone from highschool saw him now they'd think he was a completely different person (in terms of personality, since he looks... pretty much the same)

although, in the last few months of highschool, his demeanor had changed for the better, he didn't smile much still but he looked a lot more relaxed and calm

aster: (his stuff is different because he didn't have school in his world lmfao. but here's how he was as a teenager and some other info about him!)

his hair was reallyyyyyyy long when he was still in his world (you end up cutting his hair when he came here lmfao)

he was really lonely because he was the only elf in his world and he had no company whatsoever

he ended up collecting a lot of things because he would wander around a LOT

dora the explorer has nothing on him bro

he was (and is) very curious about things, he really likes to learn

he somehow learned how to braid his own hair, would spend a lot of time doing that when he was bored

he has a horrible sense of fashion, you took him shopping once and he picked out the worst fucking outfits in existence, you're basically his personal stylist cause what the hell

he likes when you dress him up though teehee

he originally saw you in a mirror he found when wandering in the forest

he became really really curious about you and accidentally yanked you to him

he was confused but really happy

blah blah blah you end up living together, we all know the story! (if you don't, you suggested he followed you because you felt bad for him cause he was PAINFULLY lonely)

you took it upon yourself to cut his hair because it was REALLY long when you first met him, he likes having his hair long though, mourned the loss of his two front strands (he will be growing them back.)

he didn't talk to you for a few days after you cut his hair for the first time, wasn't your fault... you accidentally cut off one of the front strands and had to cut the other off to make it even

fun fact about him, his eyes glow in the dark, it can be scary at times.

oh and his ears are expressive, dunno how that works but it does! and he also never goes a day without wearing earrings! he prefers the ones he came with but doesn't mind wearing whatever as long as he has earrings haha

now for the updated relationship chart! (this whole post has been about them from a few years ago but this is their current relationships with each other!)

ROWAN -> LUNE: he’s a weirdo but i’m glad we’re friends, i can handle his craziness more than most people… probably, i’d say he’s like a brother to me, but at the same time i’d probably lose my mind if he was my brother. no idea how cecilia does it

LUNE -> ROWAN: somehow he’s gotten used to me, he’s not so bad, i guess i’d call him a friend

ROWAN -> CECILIA: she’s like a little sister to me! cute! we’re good friends :] i met her through lune, they’re close! we’re like siblings the three of us

CECILIA -> ROWAN: reliable and nice! i wonder how he’s friends with lune. also. we’re the same age?? he’s real sweet tho, and he’s kind of like a big dog? haha

ROWAN -> NOX: who? :D

NOX -> ROWAN: i’ve seen him before (around the twins) he’s close to cecilia and that other guy who she's unfortunately related to

LUNE -> CECILIA: my little sister <3 we are best buddies, i’d do anything for her, she was there with me in our hardest moments, i wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, and she wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, one of the only people i’ll listen to lmao (she’s kinda scary when she’s mad at me but it’s also kinda funny?) i like bothering her but she might kill me one day though. she hides herself a lot, i don’t know why, it’s always been like this. i wonder if it’s because of me..?

CECILIA -> LUNE: dawg you’re like two minutes older than me (won’t deny the best buddies comment) he’s a really good brother though… but tough to deal with, he’s always causing some sort of trouble, but uh, well. anyway, we’re basically best friends… his words, not mine (she’s lying) he’s crazy but he’s not a bad person..? <- would defend him with her life. he’s an interesting fella that’s for sure, i’ve known him my whole life but there’s always something new with him lmfao. sometimes he comes into my room to knock something over and then he leaves, what an odd guy.

LUNE -> NOX: cocky asshole. so annoying. go to hell already. and stay away from my sister, i don't want you plaguing her with your presence.

NOX -> LUNE: fuck you insane bastard, go die.

CECILIA -> NOX: he’s pretty sweet (??????) we’re really great friends! i didn't think we would become such good friends tbh, he didn't seem to be the social type, and i'm not very social either haha... we're pretty similar i think! i can't remember who approached who first but that's fine. also, this guy has one of the worst damn sleep schedules known to man, i worry for that man. also, him and lune hate each other, no idea why.

NOX -> CECILIA: she's a close friend, i don't usually like making friends cause they end up thinking i'm weird, i don't really care about that but... i'll admit, it's nice to have a friend. she acts really differently in front of other people than she does with me, i don't think she's realized though? it's like having a cat open up to you haha, so i won't say anything. i hate her brother though, pretentious dickhead.

CASSIAN -> CECILIA: we were kids when i met her and her brother? she’s nice… and a lot like me… we still talk, she’s a good friend, thanks for keeping me company… and thanks for not asking me too many questions either

CECILIA -> CASSIAN: oh! cass is a childhood friend! we met at some event, he’s changed a lot since then, but i guess we’re more alike now? he doesn’t come out of his house much anymore, but we still text often. sometimes i see him online really late... bro... please get some sleep.... anyway, i never got to know what happened with him, and he doesn't like talking about it either, i won't pry though, because i understand.

CASSIAN -> LUNE: he’s scary, but i guess he’s not that bad..? i talk to him too, we’re not the closest, but he’s still a friend, i text him sometimes, he’s crazier than before, he was fun to hang out with when we were young, not that i don't like him anymore, he's definitely... special

LUNE -> CASSIAN: i don’t know what happened to him, but he doesn’t leave the house anymore, he’s not bad. he texts sometimes, i don’t know why because i think he’s scared of me, no idea why tho (???) i guess he’s a childhood friend? him, ceci, and i used to hang out before… well yeah, still don't know what went down

CASSIAN -> NOX: oh… i’ve never met him. cecilia’s told me about him before, lune’s mentioned him once, they have really different opinions about him

NOX -> CASSIAN: no clue, cecilia’s mentioned him before, i think he’s friends with her and… the other one.

CASSIAN -> ROWAN: another one of lune and cecilia’s friends i think? they sure are popular. (even lune???)  i dont know anything about him though

ROWAN -> CASSIAN: no idea who this guy is! 

ASTER: ??? :’D 

[necrotic-nephilim]

Any ships you don’t like in the batfam fandom that is popular?

OOOH this is such a fun question because I have quite a few

StephCass - i'll be honest this is one of those ships where the fandom ruined it for me. because 2000s StephCass is an elite dynamic, they care for each other so deeply. but the fandom has been intent on defanging and purifying this ship. i don't know *why* but StephCass seems most popular with the anti-Batcest crowd who get very mad if you compare it to ships they deem Batcest. i have an entire meta commentary on this in my drafts I'll likely never post discussing why the only reason StephCass gets the pass for not being Batcest ties directly into misogyny (because the women of the Batfam need to exist as love interests first, not family members so Steph was never going to truly get to exist as a "full" Batfam member so long as she could remain a viable love interest for Tim, and the same can apply to Babs, Helena, and even Cass in some cases) and that just sours me to it. like if i want yuri in Batfam i think there are far more interesting/fucked up ships for Steph like Babs/Steph or Helena/Steph. and when it comes to what i'd actually like to see in canon, i don't want to see Steph relegated to love interest of a Batfamily member, even if it's queer. let her date and exist outside of Gotham the way every other Batfam member gets to, DC *please*.

Bruce/Selina - i can't fully articulate why this ship isn't my thing, it just isn't. i think i just can't conceivably agree with Selina letting go of so many of her fundamental morals and beliefs for the sake of a man, even one she loves such as Bruce. ironically, i think that's one of the few things Gotham War got right about these two. the only canon love interest i like for Bruce is Zatanna and i mourn we'll never get much of that.

JayRoy - i will admit when i was newer to DC the first comics i picked up for Jason were all New-52 and i shipped this. but now that i'm a pre-Flashpoint truther and i've actually read well-written Roy Harper comics, i only see the flaws in this ship. ngl if ppl were actually fun and interesting with it, playing with the idea of Roy knowing Jason as Robin and still seeing him as just Dick's little brother who's gone a little mental, it *could* be fun. but this Red Hood & the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal (2015) dynamic *butchers* the fuck out of Roy and strips him of everything interesting. and even as a Batfamily stan, my number one pet peeve is when other DC characters get *butchered* in a Batfamily character's book just for the sake of propping up the Bat as some kind of savior. free Roy Harper from this mans.

Bruce/Oliver - we could be here all day if i listed all the Bruce ships i don't like, but i figure this one has to be included. because oh my god either the people shipping this *really* don't understand Oliver Queen or they just hate his ass because why would you subject Oliver to this man. he can't *stand* Bruce. i really hate the popular BruOliie shipping dynamic of like "oh they were boarding school besties" because if you want that, you *should* like Bruce/Zatanna, not these two. Oliver just always gets butchered in these fics and i won't stand for it.

Tim/Bernard - the ESSAYS i could write on this ship and why i dislike it. the fucking *fear* DC (and most popular media tbh) has with depicting queer relationships as anything other than totally perfect and cute for fear of accusations of homophobia has stripped this ship of *any* real grit. Bernard is a non-character in Tim Drake: Robin, he exists to cheer Tim on and prop him up and just be The Boyfriend. we occasionally get glimpses of an interesting character with really interesting trauma and nothing is *done* with it bc at the end of the day, Tim and Bernard must be perfect and cute. what's fun about Tim is he is the *worst* boyfriend alive. that boy is *ass* at dating. all of his relationships are rich with conflict and yet the moment he dates a guy suddenly all of his flaws vanish? i hate it. i mourn what this could've been if we kept messy Tim Drake and had a Bernard who was actually informed by his trauma. DC please let gays be messy again. also of all of Tim's 90s/00s friends to bring back as a love interest, Bernard Dowd was just a *bizarre* fucking choice. Sebastian Ives was *right* there come on now.

Any Crossover Ship - look if crossovers are your cup of tea i'm happy for you but oh my god if i have to see that little green ghost boy or that ladybug girl in the Batfam one more time i think i may explode. i have a lot of thoughts on *why* i think specifically Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug get crossed over as often as they do with the Batfam, but i don't think anyone wants to year that. my only exception to this is Jason/Bucky Barnes, but it *has* to be comics!Bucky. like. Judd Winick's Jason and Ed Brubaker's Bucky would hatefuck and that i wish to see it. any other crossover ship (especially the Peter Parker ones that seem to be rising in popularity) just do *not* do it for me.

honestly besides that i don't think i dislike many ships. (aside from being super opinionated on Bruce ships, but that's mostly bc ppl will use him to butcher the character they ship him with) there are some ships i'm neutral to because i simply do not know enough to have an opinion (like Dick/Wally). i guess the only Batcest ship i'm not particular to is Bruce/Damian, but I wouldn't say that one is popular nor would i say i dislike it, just that it's not my cup of tea. most Batcest ships click for me in one way or another because i like their Weird dnyamics. i guess i could also say i dislike most ships that have come out of Young Justice (tv) because. oh my *god* why were those group of characters put together on a team. it's baffling. but even then it's not disliking those ships, it's moreso disliking that show's depiction of those characters so. everything is really dependant on the canon context for me!

[oreegaanoo]

Character reference sheets and two frames from the animatic! :3

[aliferousdreamer]

so i've been rewatching season 4 of the next step for the first time in years and hoooo boy do i have a lot to say t

[whumpy-wyrms]

yk i was having trouble writing tllr chapter 12 because Dew is sick with a fever in the beginning and i just,, idk felt uninspired or something because im not the biggest fan of sickfics or whatever

well now i’m sick with a fever and it’s helll so sorry Dew im gonna have to put you through this now my bad 👍👍 at least i am now inspired

if this post makes no sense it’s because my brain hurts and i’m tired 👍👍👍

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[unboundbnha]

I’ve started *gags, chokes* writing….again….*spits out blood, gasps and gurgles as I fall to the ground*

[bbybearcubbs]

I'M NOT DEAD!

[devotion-disorder]

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again. 

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think. 

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently. 

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight. 

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[luvergirl-866]

dreams, fairytales, fantasies

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 7.9k

c/w - language, drinking, fluff, and ofc smut (sub p, sub a, strap, eating, fingering…it’s a lot) (also heavy usage of pet names bc i am a sucker for them)

a/n - this is just a real depiction of what happens when lesbians go two weeks without sex 😔. no but fr, i hope yall enjoy!!! (feedback much appreciated, esp bc this is not edited) (also, im majorly crediting the smut queen @basketball-lesbians bc ease and stiff changed the way i write smut forever).

The much anticipated make-up sex doesn’t happen until a week later, which is about six days after they’ve actually made up—which they manage without the involvement of sex. And that’s a great thing for them, considering they have a history of resolving arguments via orgasm, but they also can’t give themselves the credit because the no-sex thing wasn’t really their decision. (If it had been up to them, Azzi would have jumped Paige’s bones that very night they made up).

That day, though, was spent talking, reliving their breakup and the horrible year afterward for the sole purpose of truly processing it. They had continued talking during that time, of course, claiming to be ‘best friends’, but they meticulously danced around the topic of their high school relationship and the fact they were both miserable once it ended, grieving it in their own ways. They talked for hours, and both of them quickly came to realize that there was so much they hadn’t told each other. Azzi was shocked to hear that Paige spent her entire freshman year moping around, never getting out and having fun like Azzi wanted her to do. (“Seriously? I thought you hoed around?” she said when Paige gave her this information. Paige shrugged and said, “I told you I did, so I didn’t seem lame. But yeah, no. I smoked a lot and looked at our pictures and that’s—well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”)

Paige was just as shocked when Azzi told her she tried going on a date with someone else, just to get the breakup off her mind, and they kissed at the end of the night and she went inside and cried for a long time. (“I didn’t know you went out with anyone,” Paige said, not particularly jealous, just a little hurt because even though they were exes that year, they were still best friends, and they usually told each other everything. Azzi picked her thumbnail, eyebrows drawn at the memory. “It hurt too much. I didn’t even tell my mom.” That, if possible, made Paige feel even worse).

Anyway, by the time they talked everything through (with some crying involved, and maybe a little kissing, too), it was late at night and they were both emotionally exhausted from the day. They’d gotten ready to sleep and laid in Azzi’s bed and murmured about how much they’d missed each other for about two minutes before they promptly assed out.

And then it was the week, their time consumed with classes, homework, practice, and even grownup things like grocery shopping. They spent as much time together as they could, practically magnetized to each other, attached at that hip when they were in the same vicinity. But they were both swamped with homework and while they tried to do it together that Monday, they quickly realized that it was impossible to focus around each other. Or at least, Azzi did. (“C’mon, we’re doing okay,” Paige said, at approximately 1 A.M., when they had been at it for four hours and had gotten absolutely nothing done. “I wouldn’t say that, P,” Azzi mumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pecking a sulking Paige on the lips. “No more school around each other, ‘kay?” She couldn’t help but be amused at Paige’s exaggerated pouting. “I think we’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, baby.”

That night, her phone had blown up with messages from Paige, most of them silly selfies of her pouting at the camera as she sat at her desk with schoolwork laid out in front of her. Even that was enough to distract Azzi from her work).

So, no, it’s not until Saturday—the night of their second-first date—that the make-up sex (that can’t really be considered make-up sex anymore) happens. But, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. And that must be true because that night turns out to be very good indeed.

It all starts before the two of them are even together, with Azzi picking her outfit for their date. She’s never been good with decisions, and this is a big one in her book. She needs to wear the perfect outfit—something sexy and cute and romantic and alluring all at once. An hour into choosing the outfit, Caroline is beginning to regret offering to help.

“Okay, you’re just overthinking it now,” she says, exasperated, watching as Azzi frowns at herself in the mirror.

“If I don’t overthink it I’ll end up looking ugly,” Azzi says, turning this way and that in the mirror, making sure the outfit looks good from every angle. But when she takes a step back, leans her head to the side just so, and turns to the left, the shirt suddenly makes her look atrocious. With a frustrated sigh, Azzi takes it off, tossing it onto the ground.

Caroline groans, flopping onto Azzi’s bed. “What was wrong with that one?”

“Everything,” Azzi replies, going back to her closet to try again. “Has my wardrobe always been this bad?” she mutters to herself.

“You look good in everything, Az,” Caroline says. “And your clothes are cute. Paige is going to love you in whatever you decide to wear.”

Which is true—Azzi could be wearing jorts and a flannel and Paige would still swear up and down she’s the prettiest girl in the world. But love and want are two different things. After two weeks of no sex Azzi needs to be wanted.

“You know what your problem is?” Caroline asks as Azzi rummages through her clothes.

“What?” Azzi asks, sort of desperately.

“Your bra,” Caroline says simply.

Azzi looks down at her bra, then turns to Caroline, a little confused. “It’s a cute bra, though?”

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Caroline concedes, leaning back on her hands and giving Azzi an up-and-down look. “But I thought you were trying to get laid tonight?”

Azzi nods, because duh she’s trying to get laid tonight. It’s all she’s been talking about all week.

Caroline wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, this isn’t really about your outfit. It’s about what’s underneath.”

As she stares at her genius best friend, Azzi nods slowly, starting to get it. “I need lingerie.”

“Yup.” Caroline smiles, satisfied. “As soon as you put some sexy panties on, I promise you, girl, you’re gonna feel better about yourself.”

Azzi is already reaching back into her closet, opening her special drawer and rifling through it. “Should I wear one she hasn’t seen before?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Caroline agrees, standing up and walking over to Azzi, peering over her shoulder at her array of underwear. “And don’t tell her you’re wearing it, either. It has to be a surprise.”

Azzi pulls a few sets out, but none of them particularly catch her eye, and it isn’t until they’ve been searching for a few minutes that Caroline reaches into the closet and grabs a still-sealed box, the logo of a designer lingerie brand on the lid. “What about this?” she asks.

It takes a moment for her to remember what the box contains. She’d bought it just a month ago, on a whim, and while it had cost her a fortune she also couldn’t not buy it. She’d, of course, had Paige in mind when she’d bought it, but they haven’t exactly had lingerie sex in awhile—with their busy schedules, they’ve only had time for spur-of-the-moment quickies and lazy mouths and fingers in the mornings before practice.

But this—this is going to be post-date, make-up sex. The absolute perfect occasion to wear insanely expensive lingerie catered specifically for Paige.

With an excited smile, Azzi (with the help of Caroline) gets all laced into the set. And once it’s on, it becomes surprisingly easy to choose the perfect outfit. Because Azzi knows, by the end of the night, Paige will forget all about what she’s wearing, the memory replaced by what she’s not.

———————————————

Paige, of course, tries to fuck her multiple times before they even get to the restaurant. It starts immediately, when she comes to pick her up and they share a chaste hug and kiss, and Azzi takes the flowers from her hands and turns to find a vase to put them in—Paige’s eyes trail down to her ass and stay there for longer than she’d like to admit. And then Azzi is carefully arranging the flowers, talking about how excited she is for their date, when Paige comes up behind her and holds her tight. It’s a gesture that Azzi thinks is innocent until Paige kisses her neck and murmurs, “You look good, Az. Makes me wanna make us late for our reservation.”

Azzi’s entire body heats at that, but she playfully shoves Paige away, not about to let their hormones get in the way of this date.

But then, it happens again, in the car on the way over. Paige’s hand rests on Azzi’s thigh while she drives, which isn’t unusual, and Azzi doesn’t question it—that is, until her fingers trace a slow but sure path between her legs. Azzi lets it go farther than she probably should, only pulling Paige’s hand away once she’s fully touching her clothed center. Laughing, Azzi returns Paige’s hand onto her side of the car. “Your thigh-touching privileges are revoked for that.”

Paige groans. “I didn’t even do nothing, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself, weirdo.”

And when they get to the restaurant, Paige opens her door for her, guides her in by the small of her back, pulls out her chair. It reminds Azzi of a more mature, experienced version of the Paige she dated in high school, and it reminds her exactly why their relationship was so perfect back then. It also reminds her of the aching need between her legs, the one that’s been there for two long weeks and that now practically burns in anticipation. But, she forces herself to ignore it, to just focus on the romance of it all. Paige decides to make that difficult by running a foot up and down her calf, and when she hisses at her to stop, Paige laughs and says, “You’re imagining things.”

It’s not five minutes later that Paige picks up her phone and begins typing. A flash of annoyance comes from the side of Azzi that thrives off attention, more particularly Paige’s attention, and that’s so used to constantly having it it’s a little off-putting when she doesn’t. But then, a moment later, her own phone buzzes, and Paige sets her’s down with a satisfied little smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “You’re stupid.”

“Look at your phone.”

“That’s rude,” Azzi teases. “We’re on our first date.”

“We’ve been on a million dates before,” Paige says, which is technically true. “Look at it.”

Amidst the usual lighthearted, joking tone of Paige’s words, Azzi also catches a hint of something demanding, something that leaves no room for argument—at least, not without repercussion—and it makes it impossible to focus on the setting they’re in without also thinking of the events that will occur when they get home.

She picks up her phone, and there’s a text from one ‘P Boogs 💗’. When she opens it, she finds a stupid, horny text, nothing short of what she expected: can we go fuck in the bathroom or??

Rolling her eyes, and a little relieved that Paige didn’t actually write anything sexy (because if she had, Azzi’s not sure she would’ve been able to resist), she kicks her under the table and sets her phone down. “No, Paige. What’d I say about no more public restrooms?”

Reminiscent of a small child, Paige crosses her arms and slumps back in her seat. “I rebuke that.”

“You don’t know what that word means,” Azzi waves her off, before motioning to their plates. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”

Azzi has only two glasses of wine, so by the time they’re driving home she’s the perfect amount of tipsy. Wine also tends to make her horny, which doesn’t hurt the situation.

“You’re really okay?” Paige asks for what seems like the millionth time. “Because if you’re even, like, a little drunk, we don’t have to—“

“Paige,” Azzi says before she can finish that god-awful sentence. “I’m mostly sober. We’re all good.”

Paige glances over at her, and when she sees the firm look in her eyes she nods, relaxing into a sly smile. As she focuses back on the road, she says, “Good. Because I have an empty apartment tonight.”

The thought of it—the thought that Paige asked her roommates to clear out for the night, knowing what was to come—makes Azzi shift in her seat. The ache between her legs is crossing into painful territory at this point.

By the time they get inside Paige’s apartment, every instinct in Azzi’s body tells her to jump Paige’s bones as soon as the door is locked behind them. But Paige doesn’t really give her a chance—first kicking off her shoes and then immediately heading towards the kitchen. Azzi trails behind her as she opens the fridge.

“Hungry?” Azzi asks, a little confused considering they just had a fairly large meal at dinner. But Paige shakes her head, reaching into the side drawer of the fridge and pulling out a seltzer.

She waves it at Azzi with a smile, though it’s a little unusual—almost wavering? Not the familiar one Azzi’s used to. “Wanted a little drink.”

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, leaning against the counter, watching as Paige cracks the can open. She shouldn’t be surprised—she herself is tipsy and it’s only fair that Paige would want to catch up after she had to drive. But Azzi has been a little blinded by the filthy thoughts that have been playing through her head all night, and was under the impression they’d fuck against the front door the minute they got home.

She’s already waited two weeks, she reminds herself. Paige only needs a drink or two—they don’t want to be drunk, not tonight—so what’s a couple more minutes?

“It’s kinda hot in here,” Paige says abruptly, and when Azzi looks at her, her cheeks flush. “Isn’t it?”

Azzi’s a little warm, but it’s mostly a mix of the alcohol and pure horniness, so she shakes her head. “Feels okay to me.”

“Oh,” Paige says, and then takes a long swig of her seltzer. She offers up that strange, wavering smile again.

Azzi studies her. This is her best friend, the girl she knows better than she knows herself. Paige is practically an extension of her at this point, it’s that easy for them to read each other. But right now, Paige is acting strange in a way Azzi can’t quite place. She’s been flirting like normal all night, but now that they’re alone she’s putting space between them. And that’s not to mention the blushing, the weird smiling, and the need for a drink.

As Paige takes an extra-long gulp of seltzer, it finally clicks where Azzi has seen this behavior from her: Back in high school, not long into their relationship, the first time they had sex.

She’s nervous.

But, no, that can’t be it, can it? They’ve slept together countless times in the four years since then. Paige knows Azzi’s body like the back of her hand. There’s no reason to be nervous.

Sure that she’s got it all wrong, Azzi crosses over to Paige, watching the way Paige’s gaze falters as she sidles up to her. “Hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, “you good?”

Paige blinks, then swallows thickly. “Me? Yeah, I’m all good.” She takes a sip from her drink. “Why you asking?”

Azzi hums, bringing a hand down to guide Paige’s free one to her waist—something she usually never has to do, as Paige tends to be pretty handsy. “You’re acting…weird, all of a sudden.”

Paige gives her a long, hard look, and Azzi thinks she’s about to deny it again but then Paige is sighing and setting her drink on the counter behind her, wrapping both arms around Azzi’s waist. “I guess I feel a little…nervous, for some reason?” she shakes her head, locks her hands behind Azzi’s back as if to steady them. “I’on know, bro. It’s stupid.”

Azzi shakes her head, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Paige’s neck. “It’s not stupid.”

“Kinda is,” Paige says, chuckling at herself but it’s a shaky, breathy sound.

“Hey,” Azzi says gently, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face, “if you’re not up to it, we don’t have to.” (Even though she spent the entire night suffering through a thong up her ass. The things we do for love.)

But Paige firmly shakes her head, gripping Azzi’s waist more tightly just to show how much she means it. “No, I don’t—you have no idea how much—“

“Yes, I do,” Azzi says incredulously. “I really fucking do.”

Paige’s breath hitches, and her gaze flicks down to Azzi’s lips. Azzi does the same, allured by the shiny gloss there, knowing it’s vanilla flavored from their previous chaste kisses tonight. She wants to taste more of it. Wonders if Paige’s lotion is vanilla, too.

“P,” she murmurs. Paige’s eyes don’t waver away when she hums, “Yeah?”

“Don’t be nervous,” she says quietly, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek, which gets Paige to look at her. “You know me,” she almost whispers.

Slowly, Paige nods, and when she leans down to connect their lips, Azzi nearly groans at the slight contact. It’s chaste to the point of innocent but it’s something, and they’re alone, and god does Paige look so good in this outfit. Paige readjusts, shifting so their legs are slotted together as she deepens the kiss just slightly, and Azzi reminisces on how she’s been waiting for this all night. Since that fateful night at Ted’s, really.

With Paige’s leg between her thighs, Azzi takes the opportunity to bare down, just slightly, only enough to increase the tension between her legs more than relieve it. But Paige groans into her mouth at the feeling and it lights her senses on fire.

They found a good dynamic years ago, and it’s one in which Paige often leads, allowing Azzi to follow without giving her the responsibility of being the first to move, to make decisions—something she’s always been more hesitant with. The past six months they’ve experimented some, stepping out of the comfort zone they had in high school and trying new things. But they still found that, for the most part, Paige prefers to lead, and Azzi prefers to be led—it just works.

But, even now, as Azzi dips her tongue into Paige’s mouth and brushes it against her’s, Paige still seems a little withheld. It’s obvious that she’s overthinking this, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—this is big for them. They’ve talked about their feelings and gone on their first date and this feels a little like the last step in a routine that will throw them back into that all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school. Which is exciting, and it feels natural, like it’s only the right thing to do—but it’s a little scary, too. And, knowing she’s being expected to lead, Paige is worried about getting it wrong. Messing up, somehow.

So when Azzi pushes against the fabric of Paige’s blazer, letting it slip off her shoulders, it’s not really a conscious thought that she’s taking over this time. It’s just—something she needs to do. And, if the absolute fire in her belly says anything, it’s something she wants to do, too.

Opening her mouth a little wider, Azzi sucks Paige’s tongue gently between her lips, drawing it out slightly, and when she pulls off it she opens her eyes to find Paige with her mouth wide open, tongue out, barely five minutes into kissing and already looking so desperate for her.

The sight makes Azzi groan a little, her eyes trailing from Paige’s lips, to the curve of her jaw, to her slender neck, and without thinking about it she slides her hands around Paige’s throat, squeezing experimentally. It elicits the right reaction, Paige’s eyes widening, hands sliding down to Azzi’s ass.

Pulling her close again, Azzi ducks down, moving a hand to the side to kiss sloppily at the skin revealed there. Paige sighs, always having liked being kissed on the neck, and Azzi mutters, “Marks?”

There’s a slight pause, Azzi’s lips hovering just shy of kissing the skin of Paige’s neck, and as soon as Paige hums out a noise of affirmation, she’s basically attacking her, tongue soothing over skin as she sucks hungrily. Her hips grind instinctively down on Paige’s knee as her hands slide lower, down her chest to squeeze her tits through her thin tank. Paige gasps, using her leverage on Azzi’s ass to pull her down harder on her leg. At this point, she’s sure she’s soaking through her fancy lingerie just listening to the little noises Paige is making, and suddenly, Azzi feels hungry. The kind of hungry that tends to be insatiable.

As soon as the thought comes to her, her hands fly to the button of Paige’s jeans, staring down to watch her hands work it open. Paige watches, too, then brings a hand up to Azzi’s cheek. Azzi halts her movements, looking up at her, searching her face for any sign to stop and finding a little hesitancy there. “Hey,” she says, “you good?”

Paige nods, then glances furtively down at Azzi’s hands. “I don’t think I’m ready for—your fingers.”

Soothing her hands across Paige’s hips, Azzi nods, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “I know, baby,” she says—Paige has always needed a good amount of buildup before any actual intrusion. “Wasn’t gonna use my fingers.”

Paige blinks, thoughts obviously a little sluggish as it takes a moment for the words to register, but once she does, she nods eagerly. “Shit. Okay.”

With one last peck on the lips, Azzi’s fingers get back to work, and as she slides the jeans down her legs she goes down with them, dropping slowly to her knees. She helps Paige step out of the pants and then tosses them to the side, looping her arms around her thighs and urging her to widen her stance. She presses a few comforting kisses to Paige’s pelvic bone and across her hips, breathing in the familiar scent of her as her kisses stray lower. As she licks up the inside of a thigh, her eyes open, glancing at the girl’s boxers and the wet patch growing on them. Feeling quite proud of herself, she smirks, biting at her thigh and relishing in the way Paige hisses.

“Stop messin’ with me,” Paige breathes, bringing a hand to Azzi’s head and trying to move her closer to her cunt.

“Uh-uh,” Azzi says, using a hand of her own to move Paige’s firmly away. When she looks up at her, Paige looks wrecked, which does amazing things to Azzi’s ego considering she hasn’t even touched her yet. Loving the expression on Paige’s face—lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering, the picture of submission—she decides to try and coax more out of her. “No touching,” she adds, something Paige likes to do whenever she’s being particularly needy. When Paige starts to protest, she moves her hand to her clothed clit and rubs harshly, cutting her off. “You heard me, baby.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow, either from pleasure or annoyance or, more likely, both. “Azzi, please—“

“Shh,” Azzi soothes, removing her thumb and licking a stripe up her boxers—the faintest taste of her already addictive. “Be patient.”

She expects more resistance—the few times they’ve switched roles like this, it takes at least an orgasm for Paige to take her commands. But today must be different—is different—and Paige dutifully shuts up, using her hands to brace herself against the counter as she tilts her head down to watch.

Pleased, Azzi removes her boxers, salivating at the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs, and it’s all she can do when she uses her thumbs to spread her open, groaning when she gets a good look at the familiar, dripping folds. “So pretty,” she can’t help but mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss against her, licking her lips to taste the arousal left there. Paige’s hips buck, and Azzi gives her a sharp slap to the thigh. Paige nearly whines, which is kinda new—they’ll have to experiment with it later. “What’d I say, hm?” she asks, unable to keep herself from pressing her tongue between her cunt lips and licking upward, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the taste. “Be patient.”

“Fuck,” Paige gasps above her.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint in Azzi’s body to not just dive in and devour her like a woman starved. It’s been far too long since she went down on Paige, even before their two weeks of celibacy, and she wants nothing more than to push her tongue inside and draw out as much slick as she can. But she also knows all too well that Paige likes to be ate slow. So, slow it is, as she licks up around her folds, tongue dragging delicately over her clit.

Her eyes fall shut, focusing on how wet Paige is against her tongue, dipping just slightly into her hole where the taste is the strongest and reveling at how good it is.

When Paige makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat, Azzi looks up at her, watching her reaction as she gently sucks her clit into her mouth. Paige is leaning back against the counter, cunt pressed into Azzi’s face desperately, and it’s obvious she’s trying to keep still. But when Azzi’s tongue flicks against her clit as she sucks, Paige can’t help but gasp, hips bucking just slightly.

With painted nails, Azzi squeezes her thigh just enough to get her attention. When Paige looks down at her, she pulls off her clit with a wet noise and says, “Hold your shirt up, babe.”

It’s amazing how quickly Paige obeys, rucking her tank up to reveal her bare chest, nipples pink and hard. Azzi doesn’t even try to stop herself from reaching up to play with one of them as she dives back into her pussy.

Her clit is already puffy, sensitive to her every touch based off the way Paige moans when she flicks her tongue against it. She licks little shapes, taking note of which ones draw the most sound out of the older girl. It’s mostly for her own benefit when she traces the letters of her own name on her pussy, but Paige whines high-pitched and needy like she knows.

Azzi pulls away just enough to see that her clit is an angrier pink now, twitching almost imperceptibly, and she gives it a break, moving lower to suck around her hole, drinking the copious juices she’s teased out. When she presses her tongue inside, she finds much less resistance than last time, and her fingers itch to be inside her.

This time, when she pulls away, Paige whines again—the sound a mix of frustration and desperation—and Azzi soothes a hand up the inside of her thigh. Paige’s eyes are hooded now as they lock with Azzi’s, and Azzi smiles up at her. “Hey,” she mutters.

“Uh-huh,” Paige breathes, nearly panting at this point.

“Think you’re ready?” Azzi asks. Paige gives her a quizzical look and she holds up her right hand in explanation. “Wanna finger you.”

As if on their own accord, Paige’s hips jerk forward. When she says, “Yes,” it’s nothing more than a breathy little sigh, but it’s enough.

Nodding, her eyes go back to Paige’s cunt, gaze immediately going to her hole, clenching around nothing. She brings two fingers up and dips inside, then drags them through her pretty folds, making sure they’re plenty wet. And then, without another warning, she plunges into her pussy, moaning as she’s immediately swallowed by wet heat.

Paige’s reaction is visceral, hips pressing down to meet her halfway, hands falling to her head, previous no-touching rules forgotten. Azzi decides to let it go, though, as she watches Paige’s features contort beautifully, pleasure etched into every sound she makes.

Azzi pulls out, presses deeper. Does it again, and then stays inside long enough to push up against her walls.

It’s then that Paige starts talking.

“Oh, fuck, Azzi,” she breathes, still generally pretty quiet, something Azzi plans to have changed once she’s done with her. “You feel so—good, Az, fingers feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Azzi coos. She loves it when Paige gets to the babbling stage of fucking, and is quick to egg her on. “You like that, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, missed it—needed it—I don’t—“ she chokes on her sentence when Azzi plunges particularly deep. “Oh, baby, right there. So fucking good at that.”

“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s clit. “You missed me, right? Missed this?”

“Of course I—“ she gasps, arches forward, “did.”

Suddenly, Azzi speeds up, filthy squelching sounds filling the room as her fingers move relentlessly inside Paige, palm coming to meet her clit again and again. Paige mewls, shifting a little, and Azzi uses her free hand to hoist her leg over her shoulder, allowing for a better angle.

“Oh!” Paige cries out, hands gripping Azzi’s head for leverage. “Oh, oh fuck. Baby, baby—mm, so deep—Azzi, more.”

“More?” Azzi asks, pulling her eyes away from where she’s wrecking Paige’s cunt to double-check. Paige usually can’t take more than two.

“Uh-huh,” Paige nods fervently.

Azzi doesn’t slow down, concern about hurting the other girl cutting through her own haze of pleasure. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Paige says, exasperation filling her voice.

“I just don’t want to hurt y—“

“Azzi, if you don’t give me another finger right now I swear to God—“

That’s all it takes for Azzi to pause her movements, pulling out enough to add another finger, and finding it surprisingly easy when she slides back in again. It’s not long before she builds up to her earlier rhythm, Paige’s hips moving against her hand, and then wet sounds are filling the room again, slick trailing down Azzi’s wrist.

Somewhere between Paige’s high-pitched moans and desperate little whines, she calls Azzi’s name. Azzi presses a kiss to her belly and says, “Yeah?”

“Can you—?” there’s hesitance in her tone that gives Azzi pause, movements slowing once again to look up at her.

“What’s up?” she prompts, gently as possibly through the arousal scraping rough against her vocal chords.

“Just, come here,” Paige finally says, hands moving from Azzi’s head to her shoulders, urging her up.

Azzi softens, mind becoming a little less cloudy at the request. Carefully, she eases Paige’s leg off her shoulder, then works up to her feet, keeping her fingers firmly inside Paige all the while. As soon as she’s up, Paige’s arms go around her shoulders, pulling her in, and Azzi smiles softly at the absolutely fucked-out, but undeniably lovesick, look on the other girl’s face.

Pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek, she starts moving again, staying close so that Paige’s lips are right by her ear, hearing every sound she makes.

“I love you,” Paige mutters, forehead dropping onto Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi presses a smile into Paige’s hairline, the gesture so innocent compared to the hand between her legs. “Love you, too, P.”

At that, Paige chokes on a moan, only just managing a feeble, “I’m close.”

Azzi nods, doubling her efforts. “Take your time, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” Paige hums, but then she’s reiterating, “oh, fuck, Azzi, I’m really fuckin’ close.”

To be honest, Azzi is, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s come untouched, deriving pleasure from the simple act of giving it to Paige. But she holds back, forces herself to focus on the girl in her arms, running her free hand up and down Paige’s waist. “Yeah? About to come?”

Paige grasps her tighter, too fucked out to respond, but her following whines are answer enough.

“Give it to me, P,” she urges, knowing words are always the last thing Paige needs to tip her over the edge. “Wanna feel you coming all over my fingers, okay? Need you to show me how good I make you feel.”

Paige nods, and Azzi coos a, “Good, girl,” into her ear, and that’s all it takes for Paige’s hips to stutter, abs tightening as she spasms around Azzi’s fingers, crying out her name like it’s the only word she remembers. And at this point, it might be.

It takes awhile for her to come down, letting Azzi continue to thrust slowly for another minute or so before finally pushing her away. “Too much,” she breathes.

“Okay, baby,” Azzi says, pulling out slowly, bringing her hand up to Paige’s lips once she’s done. Paige doesn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth and suck, and it’s as she runs her tongue between her fingers that Azzi is reminded of just how magical her mouth is. Trying to sound casual, Azzi takes her hand back and says, “Hey, you all done?”

Paige is panting, hands going down to hold Azzi by the waist, looking as if she can barely hold herself up—but still, she shakes her head. “Nah, I can go for more.”

“Good,” Azzi says, stepping out of Paige’s grasp with a sly smile. Paige opens her mouth to protest but then Azzi swiftly pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her lavender lacy bra which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Whatever Paige was about to say dies in her throat. “I may have planned for this when I was getting ready.”

Her pants are still on—Paige hasn’t even had the pleasure of seeing the garter yet—but already her jaw is practically on the floor. “Oh, shit.”

“Uh-huh.” Reaching out, she takes Paige’s hand in her own, leading her down the familiar path to Paige’s room. “You can thank Caroline, by the way. Was her idea.”

“For real?” Paige asks as they enter the bedroom. She plops down on the edge of the bed, watching as Azzi locks the door behind them. Her eyes rake not-so-subtly over her frame as she watches her. “I’ll send her a card and flowers for this shit.”

Azzi laughs breathily, leaning against the doorframe.

Paige raises her eyebrows and then reaches behind her head, pulling her own shirt off and discarding it on the floor. “Aight, I think I can feel my legs again. Lay down, mama.” She smiles deviously. “I’m bouta get you right.”

—————————————

Paige has never been a good liar—which is clear, considering twenty minutes later she has her head between Azzi’s thighs, making her legs shake as she eats her relentlessly.

She’s already put on the strap, and this is her way of getting Azzi ready—alternating between eating her slow and then absolutely devouring her, pulling away every time she gets close to the edge, overstimulating her without even making her come.

“Paige, please,” she basically cries out for the nth time since they started. “I need you.”

Paige only smirks from between her legs, quite cocky considering she just got fucked into oblivion less than an hour ago. “What was it you said to me earlier? About being patient?”

Azzi rolls her eyes (though it may be more from the way Paige sucks on her folds than how annoying she is). “Mm—shut up, you liked it.”

Paige sure as hell isn’t about to admit that. Of course, though, she had enjoyed it, had reveled in the pleasure she took from giving up control, letting herself be told what to do. But now it’s Azzi’s turn, and she needs to regain control of the situation-hence, the edging. “Do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, muffled in Azzi’s pussy. “Or not?”

Azzi can’t say no to that, obviously, but still sounds a little ashamed when she lets out a meek little, “Yes.”

Paige quirks an eyebrow up at her. “Yeah? You done bossing me around?”

Azzi doesn’t respond to that, lips forming into a cute little pout that’s also reminiscent of the face she makes when she gets bratty. Chuckling, Paige shakes her head, pressing a lingering kiss to her clit. “I’on think so, baby. You had your fun.” Slowly, she crawls her way back up the bed, Azzi scooching up with her. “Now you’re gonna tell me watchu want. And you’re gonna be polite about it.”

The demanding tone in Paige’s voice is usually enough to set Azzi right, but she must’ve gotten too big a head after her little stunt earlier because now she doesn’t say anything, just looks at Paige a little defiantly.

Admittedly, she looks adorable, and Paige wants to kiss that look off her face. But she can’t let Azzi think that this is how it’s gonna be now. “Alright, pretty girl. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ma get right back down there and make you come on my tongue. You won’t get no strap tonight.”

At that threat (which is baseless, considering Paige is absolutely going to strap Azzi down one way or another tonight) Azzi’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, no, I’m sorry, I don’t—I need you inside, Paige. Please?”

Grinning, Paige leans down and kisses her forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

Taking the silicon in her hand, Paige balances on one elbow as she drags it slowly through Azzi’s folds, taking extra care to bump the head against her swollen clit. When Azzi gasps, her eyes flit to her face, checking that she’s okay. “You ready, baby girl?”

Azzi hesitates, looking down at the toy between them. “It’s bigger than the last one.”

It’s true—this is a new strap, one Azzi herself actually suggested, claiming she wanted to try something bigger. They still have their last one, just in case this doesn’t work out, and Paige is about to remind her of that when Azzi shakes her head to herself and says, “It’s okay, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Paige asks suspiciously. “Because if it’s too big…”

“Nope. I’m sure.”

“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”

Azzi’s eyes move down to follow the cock, watching as Paige moves it methodically through her soaking folds, and her eyes grow a little wider. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely sure.”

Amused, Paige watches as the younger girl stares, incredibly hungrily, at the toy. “Okay, princess. You gotta tell me if it hurts, though, okay?”

“I will,” Azzi promises. With that, Paige guides the tip down to her entrance, pushing her hips forward and against the resistance she finds there, studying Azzi’s face carefully.

After a moment, the head slides in, and Azzi gasps, wincing a little. “You good?” Paige asks, taking her hand off the cock to stroke Azzi’s cheek.

“Good,” Azzi confirms, swallowing thickly as her eyes meet Paige’s. “Just—go slow.”

“‘Course,” Paige says, leaning forward to press their foreheads together as she pushes in further. “Sweet girl,” she murmurs, mostly to distract her, “y’look so pretty like this, mama.”

She’s about halfway in at this point and Azzi gasps again, breathing out a word that sounds enough like a stop for Paige to halt. “Too much?”

Azzi’s knees are bent, feet flat against the mattress as Paige lays between them, but now she readjusts, wrapping them around Paige’s back for better leverage. “Okay,” she says once she’s done, giving Paige a little nod. “I’m good, keep going.”

Not loving the bossy tone of her voice, Paige makes a face at her. “Manners, princess.”

Azzi frowns but still lets out a little, “Please,” anyway.

With that, Paige jerks her hips, burying the dildo inside to the hilt. Azzi cries out, surprised and left breathless from the sheer stretch of it. “Shit,” she breathes, “so much for going slow.”

“Mm,” Paige hums, ducking down to kiss into Azzi’s neck. “‘S what you get for being bratty.”

“Yeah, okay,” Azzi sighs—Paige can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or actually conceding—and her head falls to the side, allowing more access to her neck, which Paige already marked up earlier.

“I good to move?” Paige asks.

“I think so,” Azzi replies, breath still caught from the sudden fullness.

Paige rocks her hips back, eyes flitting from Azzi’s face to her pussy, unable to keep from watching as she slides back in, eyes widening as she watches her cunt swallow it whole, basically sucking her in.

When she does it again, a little more smoothly this time, Azzi fists the bedsheets so hard her knuckles turn white. “Mmph—so deep, P.”

“Yeah? Feel good?” she asks lowly, rutting her hips flush into her when Azzi nods, building a steady rhythm. Her eyes land on Azzi’s face, contorted with pleasure, then rove down over her body—her neck, her tits, her stomach—until she lands back on the strap. The sight has her leaning down on her elbows, heart racing as she breathes deep to steady herself.

Picking up the pace just a little, Paige lifts herself up, watching as Azzi’s eyebrows furrow, her fists tight in the sheets. The bed is starting to squeak now, which just turns her on even more if that’s possible, and she nuzzles her nose into the crook of Azzi’s neck, muttering, “Hold on to me, baby, it’s okay.”

Azzi’s arms come up to loop around her neck before she’s even done with the sentence, and Paige smirks, pressing a few kisses into her cheek. “How’s it feel, hm? How deep am I?”

“So fucking deep,” Azzi breathes, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise how close she sounds considering Paige has been working her towards the edge for awhile now.

Paige brings a hand down between their bodies, using it to rub a few tight circles against Azzi’s clit, stopping when she starts whining. And Azzi makes a sound of protest but it’s quickly cut off by a moan when Paige’s hand moves instead to press against her lower abdomen, pushing down hard enough to feel the strap moving inside her.

“Baby, baby, please,” Azzi slurs, crying out in time with Paige’s thrusts, “right there—keep doing that, fuck.”

Who would Paige be to tell her no? There’s that whiny edge to her tone, all desperate and needy, a telltale sign she’s getting close. Pressing down a little harder on her stomach, Paige speeds up significantly, angling her hips up in an attempt to hit that spot deep inside.

Based off the high-pitched moan Azzi let’s put, it works.

“Shit, look at that,” Paige says when she looks between them again. The strap is soaking now, and so are the bedsheets, a mix of Paige and Azzi’s arousal leaking down onto them. Angling her hand down, Paige uses her fingers to spread her lips open, groaning as she gets a better view of Azzi’s cunt swallowing the entire dick. “Taking it so good, mama. Fuck, that pussy crying for my dick, huh?”

“Paige, fuck, yes,” Azzi gasps, clawing almost desperately at Paige’s shoulders.

“Close?” Paige asks, trying to gauge where she’s at based off the way her legs are beginning to shake, noises becoming less breathy, more insistent.

Azzi nods, maybe all she can manage at this point, and Paige rocks forward deep, pleased with the way Azzi’s mouth falls open, tits bouncing with each thrust.

They’re silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bedframe fighting for its life and Azzi’s pussy squelching around her cock filling the room. “Hear that?” she asks, using her fingers to rub harshly against her clit, only adding to the filthy sounds in the room. “Best pussy in the world, baby. And it’s mine, huh?”

Azzi only manages a pathetic “uh-huh”, and that’s just not good enough for Paige. “Nah, you gotta tell me, princess. Tell me whose pussy this is and I’ll let you come, okay?”

It takes Azzi a moment, probably trying to gather her scattered thoughts, before she whines out a needy little, “Yours, fuck, my pussy’s all fucking yours.”

Nodding, Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s parted lips. “That’s right, mama. You wanna come?”

Tears are gathering at the corners of Azzi’s eyes when she nods, and it only spurs Paige on further. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Come all fuckin’ over my dick. Lemme feel it, baby.”

And that’s all Azzi needs, her back arching off the bed, moaning all high-pitched as she comes, pussy clenching around the dildo, nails scratching down Paige’s back, leaving her shuddering. She doesn’t stop, though, rolling her hips deep into Azzi’s through every tremor, only stilling when Azzi shakes her head, tapping against Paige’s hip.

She gives her a moment to catch her breath before saying, “Can I pull out?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi sighs, throwing an arm across her face as Paige slowly eases out of her. She manages to get the strap off and tosses it onto the floor, a problem for future them to deal with, before laying next to Azzi, pulling her into her chest. She chuckles at Azzi’s blissed-out expression, and Azzi’s eyes open at the sound, peering at her a little sleepily.

“You laughing?” she asks, no real accusation in her tone.

“At you? Never,” Paige jokes. Azzi slaps her chest, collapsing back onto it, sighing as she wraps a leg around Paige’s waist. She’s not the touchiest person in general, and Paige finds it endearing how snuggly she gets after sex.

Her hands begin to run up and down Azzi’s bare back, and when she hears Azzi sigh, she’s quick to speak, trying to catch the younger girl before she inevitably falls asleep. “Hey,” she says, “you okay?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums.

“Was it good?” Paige asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Very,” Azzi replies, cuddling closer into Paige’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Two weeks is too long,” Paige agrees. Azzi chuckles softly, and Paige angles her head to look at her, only to find that her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted.

“Why are you tryna sleep,” Paige very nearly whines.

Azzi lifts her head lazily, resting her chin on Paige’s chest to raise an eyebrow at her. “Because you just fucked the shit outta me. I’m tired.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Paige sighs dreamily.

Rolling her eyes, Azzi lays her head back down, settling back into her. “Lemme sleep, okay? I need some energy for the morning sex tomorrow.”

“F’real?” Paige can’t keep the excitement out of her tone at this.

Azzi shrugs coyly, yawns. “If you’re good.”

Internally, Paige vows to be the absolute best. Even if it means no yapping.

Her silence only lasts a few moments but, surprisingly, it’s Azzi who speaks. “And, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better ask me to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

(Paige does, in fact, ask Azzi to be her girlfriend ‘again’, as she puts it. Azzi, of course, says yes.)

(Oh, also, Caroline does receive a thank you letter and a bouquet of flowers in the mail a few days later. Confused, she opens the letter, to find it reads, “Thx for helping azzi pick that fit for our date. you’re a g mama carol. p.s. the sex was ridiculously good.” Caroline sends a photo of it to Azzi, wondering why she needed to know about the sex. Azzi replies with a shrugging emoji and a, “She’s not lying though”.)