#i know i tried to make them more tender than they were but ALSO this is like a they dont have to see each other situation so its like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steviewashere · 3 days ago

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Little Town Bar Bathroom

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor vomiting in the beginning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Steve is tipsy for a good majority of this fic Tags: No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural Elements, Modern Setting AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Comfort, Fluff, Bartender Eddie Munson, Tipsy Steve Harrington, It Starts in a Bar Bathroom, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Down on His Luck Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Countdown to New Years, First Kiss, Implied Getting Together, Happy Ending Also here on AO3, because this one is over 5k words 😬

🎆—————🎆 Working at a bar had its perks. There was a consistent stream of regulars that he constantly talked to. He could change up the specials menu whenever he wanted—adding his own flare to the mix, if he so pleased. Sometimes, he had reign over the music. And, more often than not, he was allowed a free drink by the end of his shift.

The downsides, however, were long and weary. Customers who didn’t know what they were ordering, who swore him to Satan’s asshole if he got something wrong, and tried to barge their way in with fake IDs (as if he wasn’t going to check them). Oftentimes, the bar was packed and too hot and made him sweat like nobody’s business—hell, his shower had a run for its money the other night from how pervasive his musk had been. The last major issue he had took place in the bathrooms.

Given that this is a bar he works at, the stalls often fill with every drunk imaginable. The quiet ones that need a moment to breathe, the guys who can’t keep their hands to themselves (who Eddie has to often throw out), a few who are completely sober and just there to piss, and then the oddball loner. But since they’re drunk—well, the bathroom is often the majority of their custodial staff’s paycheck. Eddie doesn’t handle all that vomit bullshit well, despite tending the very thing causing customers to do that.

It’s tonight, though—New Years Eve, forty minutes to midnight, forty minutes to 2023—that the very thing he hates leads him to the only thing he unconditionally loves. He’s cleaning up the spilled beer on his countertop when he gets the innate, incredible urge to pee. The bar is crowded, so he wrestles in another tender, and speeds away to the men’s restroom. Everything’s going according to plan, as much of a plan as there is when it comes to using a public bathroom, up until he hears it. Somebody in the stall adjacent to him, retching up their entire soul in the toilet bowl.

He winces, just finished drying his hands off, anxiety teeming like water about to boil over, and moves on autopilot to knock on the door. “Y’alright in there, man?” Looking at the bottom of the door, he spots only one pair of sneakers—some Nike Cortez that are roughed up and peeling, falling apart from how much they’ve been used—assuming is easy; the guy doesn’t have any buddies in the bathroom with him. “Noticing there’s nobody else but us in here right now,” Eddie comments. “Can I fetch somebody for you? Help you get home?”

The guy jerks with another sound, moaning miserably once he’s done. He flushes the toilet, but makes no other move. “Alone,” he musters, “she just left me here.”

Eddie bites his tongue. Failed New Years date. Oh, boy. He sighs quietly. “Do you, uh, have someone you can call? Or…uh, I could see if my manager’s free, she could order you a Lyft? They should be free tonight, considering everybody’s drinking.”

“I…I’ll be fine,” the stranger croaks, “been in here a while. I’m sobering. Barely had anything to drink, honest.”

“You think you’re done with the worst of it? Make your way outta the stall?”

“Why? So you can berate me for making a mess of your bathrooms?”

Jeez, this guy is defensive. “No, man. So that I could get you some water, a ride home, maybe some food?”

He groans in the stall, still hunched over the toilet. “Don’t wanna go back out there. Got a fucking headache, all the booze and shit will make it worse.”

Eddie rubs a tired hand over his forehead. “My shift’s over in literally five minutes. Would you…would you feel comfortable enough to go to the diner next door with me? I’ve got some Advil in my employee locker. And I could get you a cheeseburger.”

The guy goes completely quiet and still.

He goes to try and shimmy around with the door, maybe get it off its hinges or something, make sure he’s not choking or—

But then he sniffles softly. “That sounds really nice,” he says, “you’re really nice. What’s…what’s your name?”

“Eddie, and yours?”

“Steve,” he breathes. “Sorry I’m such a sack of crap. Wasting your time.”

“Mm, you’re making it easier for me to clock out, actually. Wasting my time would be somebody trying to return a drink that’s been remade correctly five times. That’s when somebody should be sorry.” He peers down at his watch, right on the money to clock out. “I’m gonna get myself out of the schedule and I’ll come back to get you, okay? We’ll just hang out at the diner. And…I’ve got Lyft on my phone, I’ll call you one when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “I’ll be waiting.”

He makes a quick turn out of the bathroom, rushing back towards the break room before he can get caught and berated by the other bartender he left to attend to customers. It’s as easy as 1-2-3, punching out, putting away his apron, and grabbing for his things inside his locker. Thankfully, there’s still a bottle of Advil. Granted, there’s only enough for one dose and he typically needs to take one after his shift for his sore feet, but he’ll make do this one time. This one exception—Steve.

Once back in the restroom, the stall that Steve occupied is now empty. Though, standing at the sink and lazily washing his hands is probably the most gorgeous stranger Eddie’s ever seen. Blue jeans and a deep red sweater, hidden under a tattered, brown leather jacket. Lean and tall, broad shoulders, big hands; moles dotting every square inch of bare skin, pink lips, droopy hazel eyes, and a nose that could rival every statue masterpiece. Then, he makes direct eye contact with Eddie.

Caught out. Stilled. But then he chuckles awkwardly, trying to ease some sort of tension—a tension Eddie can’t see. “Managed to get away from the toilet,” he says, “room’s spinnin’ a little.”

Quickly, Eddie’s coming up beside him, placing his left hand on Steve’s back. “How much did you drink, man? Somebody should’ve cut you off.”

“Only a few shots and a beer,” Steve mutters. “Guess I’m more of a lightweight than I thought I was? I don’t know…don’t know…it’s been a while. Usually come here when I got someone to sit down with.” His head lolls back down towards his hands, scrubbing at them loosely under the water. There’s a tired, defeated, sad glint in his eyes. “Been striking out,” he mumbles, “people looking for…for situationships. I don’t even know…what does that mean? I wanted a date, not sex.”

Eddie sighs through his nose and eases his hand up and down the curve of Steve’s spine, petting him as if to soothe him. Which, he supposes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. It’s not the first time he’s met a person out of their luck, crying into their drink. But the look in Steve’s eyes physically hurts. It reopens a hot chasm inside of him, bubbling like magma.

“Just take a minute,” Eddie murmurs, “let the room settle.”

Steve nods, slow and tired. Heavy. “Sorry, Eddie. I swear I’m better than this.” There’s a flash of a smile at those words, one that falls away just as quick as it came. He sniffles again, wet and unmistakeable. “Gonna be ringing in the new year alone, though. And I’ve got a headache. But…hey, I met you. Highlight of my night.”

When he chances a new look of Steve’s face fully, Eddie notes the fresh tracks of tears staining ruddy red cheeks. He coos softly under his breath, pressing his hand more firmly into his back, and stretches out to grab a distant paper towel. The water is still streaming from the faucet, and so he dips the napkin’s edge into the warm pour. Gently, he shifts Steve to face him better and brings the damp corner to his cheeks, patting over the tracks, rejuvenating the color in Steve’s skin so that it all matches.

For a moment, he’s caught out by the still watering hazel eyes on him—damn gorgeous they are, even like this—but they blink at him and he feels it, the stretch of Steve’s small smile. He returns it, of-fucking-course he returns it.

“Let’s get you cheered up, baby,” Eddie says softly, “the sky’s too full of fireworks for you to be sad.”

His palm strokes over Steve’s back, a heavy sweep of warmth. There’s the lulling rise and fall of his lungs, each breath unwavering and strong now, and not as nasally as it had been only moments prior. A hand sets on Eddie’s left hip, secure where it rests, fingers tightening into his belt loops.

“You always hang out with random strangers from the bar?” Steve questions quietly. There’s a hint, a little bit of something coating those words. A tidbit of heartbreak, if he had to give a name to it.

This close, Eddie can smell the last dredges of alcohol on Steve’s breath. There’s also the scent of his cologne, even as stale as it’s gone when he’d been hunched over the toilet, but it lingers. Peppery and warm and decadent like a slice of apple pie from the diner next door. He’s already getting that Steve’s as sweet as one, just needs to be righted slightly so it stands tall on the center of the plate.

The next words out of his mouth are tender and quiet, “No,” Eddie whispers, “you’re the only one.”

Steve hums, soaking up just as pie crust does. His hand tightens again on Eddie’s side. And then he sways them, half-steps, knees knocking. The sink is still streaming and there’s red rimming Steve’s honey eyes. It’s all so private. It’s almost just theirs.

“Saying I’m an exception?” Steve then murmurs.

His words land like gentle pecks to Eddie’s lips. And they’re closer than before. And he’d let them get even closer, if there was room.

“Why, you wanna be?”

“Mhm,” Steve buzzes.

The restroom door opens, a foot sandwiched in the gap of their space and the entire world. Eddie doesn’t let go, even if he was supposed to. Steve does, wearily aware. He finds himself not disappointed, though, not even in the slightest.

“You wanna be an exception over burgers now? There’s apple pie, too.”

“Yeah, Eds”—and oh, how that makes his chest flutter something incredible, his heart a newborn bird eager to take flight—“I wanna be your exception.”

If he wasn’t intrigued and swooning before, he most definitely is now.

But as it is, he simply pats Steve on the back and leads him out towards the bar again. Zipping through crowds of girls and forcing his way between boys about to brawl. There’s beer spilling out onto his clothes, that he hopes isn’t getting on Steve’s—doesn’t want to tarnish the absolute darling beauty he’s managed to rescue from the swamps of a muggy bar bathroom. Though, maybe it’s unavoidable. Maybe it’s just what is meant to happen.

Because something about Steve, his hand gripped tight in Eddie’s, the bounce of his step, his glassy eyes and loose smile when Eddie looks over his shoulder—something about the Steve of it all feels as close to myth alive as he’s allowed to believe. And, well, if there are more than three religions and some people don’t believe in any of it at all, then he can hold onto whatever the hell he wants. If Steve at his heels, chest slamming into his back as the cold outside air finally whips them in the face, is destiny, then…Eddie finally believes in destiny.

When the bar’s doors slam behind them and they’re overcome with the noise of distant fireworks and cars rolling by on crowded asphalt, Eddie begins to let go. Though, Steve grips to his fingers a smidge tighter than before.

“Wow,” Steve breathes beside him.

Eddie looks to him. His profile. The sharp angle of his nose, droop of his eyes, and curve of his easy smile. He follows his gaze, up to the sky.

A spattering of stars, only broken by the even brighter bursts of twinkling fireworks. Pinks and yellows and whites travel stark across the sky, each ember firing like a shooting star going home. He places his right hand over his chest, the beating of his heart a tumultuous, daunting thing. And he sighs, panting a short breath—

Let me keep him, he wishes, after tonight, let me have him. Please?

Steve squeezes their hands together, fingers sprawling so they can intertwine. His palm is sweaty, he’s shaking slightly. He laughs, though, a sputtering, unbelievable sound. “Thank god I’m outta there,” he whispers. Eddie gazes at the stretch of his neck, how his Adam’s apple resettles after bobbing out each individual word. There’s moles dotting there, too. Constellations, even more wonderful than the stars above them.

At least, Eddie thinks so. Objectively, he’s correct. Won’t hear anybody else on the matter.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and turns his eyes back to the sky. “Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you can only take so much being cramped in there. Everything’s a little more…”

“Sobering?”

“Real,” he corrects. “Everything’s more real.”

Their fingers are pretzeled together still. And as if to punctuate Eddie’s point, Steve makes him feel the pressure of their hands. As if to say, “We’re a little more real out here, too.” He supposes they are. And he supposes the budding warmth in his sternum—where he’s believed his soul to be his whole life—is real, too.

Eddie blinks, watching white streaks dissipate through the sky. His stomach grumbles, though, and he’s reminded with a back-handed slap why they’re out here. There’s plenty of time to watch fireworks later, but he’s only got such staggering minutes with Steve. And he promised food.

Maybe it’s too honest and maybe it’s a lot stupid—considering Steve is still such a stranger, an enigma to his brain—but he’d promise a whole lot more if he was allowed.

For now, he starts to drag them towards the diner. Only met with minor resistance from Steve’s stance. He relents quickly, though. Following after Eddie like a lost, scruffy puppy. Through the next burst of fireworks, he hears Steve’s stomach give a low grumble, too.

The greasy air of the diner hits him in one strong gust. Salt and cheese and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Pink bubblegum, too, as a hostess greets them at the door and leads them to a booth in the back right corner of the restaurant. The vinyl must be sticky when Steve bounces onto it, grimacing as his fingertips stay stuck like paw-pads on ice. Eddie finds out a second later when he saddles in right across from Steve, collecting the menus from the edge of the table as the hostess struts away to her bored stool at the coffee counter.

He hands over one menu, Steve taking it from him gingerly. With a passing, soft, “Thanks.” His eyes fall to the plastic sheet in his hands, seemingly enthralled by everything there is to choose from.

Eddie already knows what he wants, choosing to gaze ahead.

There’s a tiny pout to Steve’s lips, subtle an gentle, but definitely present. He’s muttering under his breath, thumbs tracing down the margins of the menu, half-formed sentences like, “Cheeseburger…tomatoes…lettuce—hmph—bacon optional, sounds good.” Steve takes the sleeve of his jacket and brings it up under his nose, wiping hastily at its tip. His face isn’t puffy or red anymore, just tinged with exhaustion. Even like this, slumped over a menu and recovering ever so slowly from the cold that had seeped into their bones and the roller coaster of emotions that had worked through their combined blood, Steve’s beauty is magnetic. But his thinking face? His consideration? His marveling wonder outside?

Aside from his looks, the rest of him still draws Eddie in.

Or maybe Eddie’s easier than he thought he was.

Or…or…Eddie knows what he wants.

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes, “they’ve got fucking onion rings.”

“They’re pretty good,” Eddie amends.

Steve slams his menu to the surface of the table, hands spread, eyes wide insistently. “Of course they’re fucking good! They’re onion rings!” he softly exclaims. “Ooo, get ‘em with barbecue sauce and a Dr. Pepper? That right there is the champion of all meals.”

“Is that what you want?”

The menu’s picked up again. “Mmm…it does sound good…nah,” Steve says, eyes intense on the choices, “I’m still lookin’.”

Eddie snorts indignantly and greets their waitress. Ordering a basket of onion rings for the table, a couple waters, and a Dr. Pepper for “The man of the hour” with a half-gesture at Steve still muttering under his breath. It’s endearing how long it takes for Steve to finally settle on something, even if their combined grumbling stomachs get louder and louder, roaring over the tinny television in the opposite corner to their booth.

“You better pick something soon, else Anderson Cooper’s gonna blackout before the ball drops,” he gently teases, head nodding to the television. Steve looks to it, snorts, and glances back down at the menu. “I could also just pick something for you, if you’re too indecisive?”

“Chicken tenders,” Steve decides, “with crispy fries and a side of ranch.”

“Are you twelve?”

“Hey,” he objects defensively. “I happen to be a man of taste, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’ve got a young soul ’s’all.”

Eddie hums, face betraying him as it splits with a shining smile. Jeez, this guy is endearing. He leans over the table a bit, resting his chin in his hand; Steve mirrors him, smirking. Soft and low, he asks, “You still got a headache, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “It’ll probably stick with me tomorrow morning. Which sucks. I should’a left the bar as soon as my date stormed off. Would’a saved me a lot of trouble.”

But then you wouldn’t have met me, he wants to say, and that would suck worse.

“I’ve got Advil when the water comes. It’s the last dose in the bottle, but it should help. And also the Dr. Pepper. Caffeine might be good.”

“I don’t wanna take the last of your pills, man. You probably need it more than I do. Been working all day on your feet, I’m sure.”

He merely shrugs. “Yeah, well…I wanna help you. It’ll bring me some comfort if I can make you feel even a bit better, y’know?” Steve doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at him like a confused, lost dog. Like he’s being offered scraps from a hand that doesn’t shake when he sniffs it. “But if it really bothers you,” Eddie continues, “then we can figure out a way for you to make it up to me.”

Steve cozies deeper into his hand, blinking long at Eddie. “That sounds good,” he breathes. “Say the word…”

“We’ll figure it out before you go home, okay? Not something for you to worry about now.” He fishes the bottle of Advil from his pants’ pocket and opens it swiftly, spilling the tablets into the well of his palm. Steve’s other hand is flopped over on the table, atop his menu, relaxed. Eddie places the pills in his hand and closes his fingers. No argument. “After you eat, I’ll order your Lyft. And then…maybe I can get your number?” He’s cautious about the conversation, though the words hit him at once. Failed date, New Years Eve, situationship. Eddie rushes to add, “Just so that you can text me when you get home safely, that’s all. Don’t…I don’t wanna come off as, like, preying on you or something. Y’know, after the whole…Yeah. Just. Wanna make sure you get home safe.”

As soon as the breath rushes out of him, it’s like Steve breathes it in, responding with a syrupy, tired giggle fit. His hand fists the Advil tablets tighter. A flush colors his skin, travels down his neck as he loses himself to his laughter. The stretch of his smile and sprawl of his giggles make his nostrils flare. And Eddie doesn’t know how, after seeing the same on so many other guys, but the way Steve’s face simply moves with his joy stirs something in him. Awakes a part that had been hiding in a seemingly unending hibernation.

Shit.

Catching his breath and wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Steve resettles. Breathes, “You were so worried!”

“I was!” Eddie exclaims. He makes a dramatic show of crossing his arms over his chest, pouting his lips. “I didn’t wanna overstep. It’d be un-gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, breath finally caught. There’s a big, goofy smile on his face still. His eyes glassy with—what Eddie assumes to be—happy tears. “You’ve already treated me way better than ninety percent of the dates I’ve been on, man. Don’t worry about…about being careful when asking for my number.” He rests in his palm again, his posture growing tired, slumping into the table. “I was gonna give it to you anyway.”

“Ninety percent? Who the hell do I need to fight?”

“People who are…unimportant and too full of themselves? I don’t know, Eds, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably just…I don’t know,” Steve murmurs. He shrugs half-heartedly again. “I’m gonna go home after this and go to bed, wake up with a raging headache, and probably wish that you were still sitting across from me. Feel like you’d know how to make it better.”

Eddie hums. “Well,”—he positions himself better, sitting up in his seat and folding his hands on the table—“tonight, I’m gonna make sure you ring in the New Year happier than you are right now. And then, when you get home, you’ll text me that you did. I’ll tell you to have a goodnight’s sleep. In the morning, when you wake up, I’ll text you again, ask if you want some coffee. Maybe, if you’re comfortable, I could bring it over to your place and we could have a simple breakfast?”

“You’d do that?”

“If you want me to.”

Steve goes silent, noticeably contemplative. His eyes adrift to the table. In the mean time, Eddie orders their food and passes over the drinks when they arrive. He nudges Steve to take his pills and points out something that Anderson Cooper’s doing on the television.

But he doesn’t bring up tomorrow morning, not right now at least.

Because maybe he’s overstepping this. He’s putting himself in a position Steve doesn’t want him in. Only thirty minutes ago, they were complete strangers in a bathroom bar, groaning and grumbling at each other for being so defensive and combative. Maybe Steve’s got a friend waiting for him back home? Waiting to let him back inside and take care of him in the secret way only true friends know how.

They aren’t anything more than mere acquaintances. No matter how many half-lidded flirty glances Steve passes his way. No matter how many times Eddie’s eyes wander to Steve’s mouth as he gobbles down his serving of onion rings, a wish ringing out in his head, words caught star-bound in his throat, admiring.

He’s allowed to admire.

Not allowed to have, though.

And maybe he won’t ever get there. This will be it. A late night dinner, wishing Happy New Years, jokes tossed across the table like clumsy frisbees taking flight, and an aching in his chest. Feelings blooming in his sternum so suddenly, so abrasively, they’re thorns staggered sharp into his lungs.

He breathes, his chest seizes, and the whiff of Steve’s stale cologne burrows inside him. He blinks, his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and Steve’s strong shining summer smile brands to the deep crevices of Eddie’s brain. He laughs, their giggles blend, and the process starts all over again.

Is this what sunflowers feel like? Soaking up the sun, all that they can, and then begin the brittle early death of wilting into oneself? They have to wait so long to be born again.

Eddie doesn’t want this to be a one time thing, dead in the middle of winter, dead before it could be alive.

Steve will have his number, though. He’ll have a weakened headache in the morning now that he’s had some caffeine and begun processing a couple Advil. From there, though, the future is possible, but unseen. He’s not sure if he’s even something Steve could be looking for.

Wishful thinking, he tells himself, hopeful wishing.

“Dude, try this!”

He blinks back to himself, presented with a chicken tender thrusted into his face. It’s dripping in ranch, so Steve’s hand is cupped underneath it, trying to save the table. Eddie gapes, looking to Steve’s face.

The chicken tender is pushed into his space harder. “These are the best tenders I’ve ever had in my fucking life, and I need you to support me on this. Try it.”

At Steve’s request, he gingerly takes a bite. For some odd reason, he finds himself holding their intent and intense eye contact, unwavering. It’s just a chicken tender, nothing to write home about. Not like it tastes any different than the ones he can pick up from the Dairy Queen by his apartment, but if Steve’s saying it’s the best one he’s had…

“That’s pretty fuckin’ bomb, Stevie,” he says. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth. But it does earn him bright eyes and warm cheeks, a side by side dance in the booth across from him, and a pleased little grin. So…maybe these chicken tenders are the best, especially if they get a pretty boy like Steve to look at him like that.

“Told you,” Steve says around his next bite—half of a chicken tender and two folded onion rings. “You ever dip ‘em in gravy, though? That would blow away your socks, blow up your mind, and suck your dick.”

“You, uh, you really don’t fuck around when it comes to chicken tenders, do you?”

“I don’t fuck around with anything. I’m a set-in-stone kind of guy.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Eddie involuntarily choke on air, his eyes drifting away, flush high on his cheeks. He takes a few, quiet bites of his cheeseburger. It’s mediocre and spilling with grease, the bun is stale and the ketchup is weirdly cold, but he savors it. At least it isn’t another basket of tortilla chips and jarred salsa from the bar—he’d probably rip out his own stomach if he had to eat any more of those.

Steve tries to offer him another chicken tender, but Eddie pushes it back gently towards him. Tries not to coo over the soft, sad pout that the gesture earns him. “It’s your food,” he says, “I wanna make sure you eat it, sweetheart. You need it more than me.”

“But I wanna share it with you.”

“Stevie,” he murmurs, “I’ve already got my”—

He’s offered the chicken again. With a very forceful, “Take a bite. You worked for hours, I can tell from how tired you seem, and I want to share this with you.” And then—the bastard—adds a puppy-eyed pout to say, “Please? It would help me feel better.”

Eddie sighs dramatically, leaning forward and taking another bite. He raises his eyebrows, gazing at Steve as he rescinds his food offering. “Happy now?”

Steve nods, smiling as he does so. “Very.” He pops a fry in his mouth and crunches down on it, his grin as big as the Cheshire Cat’s. And then, his focus goes back on his basket of food, none the wiser to Eddie’s openly affectionate adoration.

He forces himself to look away, to stop getting caught up on the Steve of it all, this night. Probably one of the best New Years Eves he’s ever had. Eddie takes a deep breath, though, and looks to the television.

Forty seconds to midnight.

How’d their night drive by so damn fast?

“You gonna count down with me?” Eddie asks, interrupting the lull of silence that filled between them.

“Mm, among one other thing, yeah.”

“What other”—

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve quickly adds, dropping his food into his basket, “how much time do we have?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

He watches Steve wipe his fingers on a nearby napkin, counting aloud with “Fourteen.”

And as the numbers go down, Steve pushes himself closer over the table. Eddie can only match with him.

Ten.

This close, Steve no longer smells like his cologne. Just barbecue sauce and onion rings, the grease from chicken tenders, and a lighter thing that he can’t quite place. Something happy, whatever it is.

Eight.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have nice eyes, Stevie?”

“Don’t think anybody’s really taken notice.”

“Well…”—Eddie breathes gently—“you have really nice eyes.”

Five.

Steve slides his hand across the table, gripping for Eddie’s left. Their fingers tangle, pretzeled together. Warm, even there. His smile is warmer, though, and Eddie begins melting at the sight of it. He wonders if Steve is thinking the same thing.

Three.

“Two,” Eddie breathes.

He squeezes their hands. “One,” Steve sighs. And with it, he surges the last few inches over the table, pulling Eddie towards him, planting a delicate kiss on his lips. It doesn’t carry longer than a couple seconds, but it lingers. Lingers like the decadent, sweet scent of apple pie. They’ll have to get slices before parting.

The diner fills with cheers, whoops and hollers. There’s a burst of multi-colored light outside, painting the left side of Steve’s face with pinks and blues and yellows. Maybe it’s all so cliche. Maybe Eddie tripped and fell, went into some head trauma-induced coma where he can only dream of a picture perfect world waiting for him.

But Steve squeezes his hand again, fingernails pinching into his soft skin.

Eddie knows he’s awake.

The haziness has cleared from Steve’s eyes, replaced with romantic determination. And Eddie knows he must be mirroring something like that, too.

“Happy New Years, Steve.”

“Happy New Years, Eddie,” he murmurs—the breath ghosts over Eddie’s lips, close enough to kiss them—“best night I’ve had in a really long while, thank you.”

He wants to kiss him again, so he does. Gentle and quick, sweetly though, and drenching.

If a night could last forever, he’d pick this one right here.

“My pleasure,” he says and means it to the core of his soul.

“Can I take you up on that coffee tomorrow? I have donuts back home, we could make a morning of it.”

Eddie swallows, sure that Steve hears him. His palm sweats and the thing inside him, stirring and rolling the whole night, is finally, finally alert. “Of course, sweetheart”—it fills him with giddy pride the way that nickname brings a flush to Steve’s cheeks—“what time?”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready. I wanna hear your morning voice.”

“You flatter me.”

Steve raises their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Eddie’s. His lips are sticky, somehow, but sweet. The next time they kiss, he hopes Steve tastes like pie. “Good,” Steve whispers, “you deserve to be flattered now.”

And maybe it wasn’t the most romantic start to their relationship…

But Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

🎆—————🎆

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #modern au #hurt/comfort #mostly comfort #bartender eddie munson

50 notes · View notes

nattensijus · 5 months ago

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Okay, all those little touch prompts are just so damn cute and it’s hard to pick one! So could you pretty please pick one for me + Wesley/Lilah??

28. feeling for each other in the dark / 55. tracing the lines on the other’s hand.

used a numbers generator and it gave me these two numbers! hope you like this <3 it reminded me again how much i love these two!! putting this under a read more here already <3

also on ao3 now!

when lilah returned to her apartment, the electricity was still out from the beast's attack and it's gotten dark. she got in her apartment with great difficulty, one hand trying to turn the key, the other holding her wounded side. her mind was wretchedly empty, her only thought focusing on the first-aid kit that was stored in her bathroom. Though when she tried to make her way across her apartment, there was a knock at her door. She opened it, against her better judgement, and found precisely the last person she thought would be standing at her door: Wesley.

"Now what? Come to finish me off, lover?", she asked roughly, his behaviour from earlier still on her mind.

He just stared at her, then gestured to be let in.

"Let me..."

She left her door open, really beyond caring for anything he had to say or do now after the day from literal hell that's been clawing her out. It chewed her up and spit her out, and no fancy office or seeing Wesley back in her apartment when he swore he never would be could fix that. She made her way over to the bathroom, when he touched her elbow and looked at her.

"Sit down on the bed. I'll get it."

"You don't even know where it is.", she argued.

He turned around to roll his eyes. It was barely noticable in the dark, but the annoyed look on his face was something she memorized, something she could recognize even with the bare light of the moon.

He returned a minute later, successfully with the kit in his hand.

"Will you finally sit down?", he asked, now exasperated.

Lilah finally sat down on the bed, walking slowly so she didn't walk into anything on the way. When she sat down, Wesley took place in front of her, motioning for he to lift up her shirt. Something about the position of him right in front of her, instead of on the bed next to her made her feel the intimacy of the situation. She lifted up her shirt, trying to slip out of it, but her body protested.

She caught Wesley's look, and nodded once, before he lifted the shirt off her, being careful of her wounds that were on her whole torso. He started washing off the blood that stuck to her like a second skin, and instead of feeling more comfortable, she felt like he was removing her battle armor with every spot of blood he removed from her ribs. They sat in silence for a while, until he stopped washing and applying bandages to her tortured skin. Then, letting off from her ribs, he drew up a line from there to her shoulders and back down to her hands, almost as if... a more romantic person would've said he wanted to ensure himself that she was safe, but lilah knew the extent of their arrangement. whatever she felt for him was of no regard and better off without mention. not wanting to show off more of her vulnerability than she had already offered today, she tensed underneath his touch. Wesley began tracing lines on her hand, keeping his gaze there even though she knew he couldn't make out much of anything, less of all her the form of her hand in the dark, but eventually, she did relax again. in the darkness, she felt like she didn't have to keep as tight a mask on as usual, could allow herself a moment of simply being touched and not having to deal with what it meant or how people perceived her. Wesley already knew she was tough as nails and he's seen her at her worst today (the less thought about that, the better), so she just stopped trying to school her expression in any form of a mask, and just let the day's emotions be. She sighed quietly, then looked back down to him.

"Why are you here?"

He didn't reply, but after a few moments, got up and got close to her again. Wesley gently put his hands on her cheeks, then they kissed again. It was gone before she could could reply, him closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. He remained like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe in the dark, take a moment in the city's chaos for themselves, then he held his lips to her forehead and took a step back.

"I meant it. You should hide.", Wesley let go of her hand, then left her apartment.

#weslah #ats #i've got mail💌#inbox drabbles #my fic #i dont have time to rewatch so let's just say this is set in an alternate 4x08 where they both return to lilah's flat yeah?#i know i tried to make them more tender than they were but ALSO this is like a they dont have to see each other situation so its like.#they dont have to face their kindness. they dont have to look it in the face. literally #they can just have this for themselves and then go back to business as usual in the morning #and thats why it works. to me. also wesley spends the whole ep trying to save lilah #anyway i also love forehead kisses idc if it works for them tbh!!!!#my writing #gothamstreetcat

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gor3sigil · 7 months ago

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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago

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What about Logan watching reader get themselves off on Logan's pillow? Like he could be holding a glass of whiskey, telling her to keep going when she complains it's too much?

-pillow talk.

cw: pillow riding, f masturbation, dom!logan but also sweet!logan

a/n: adding this as a bonus to sweet temptations :)

all day you've been so needy. craving logan's touch after long hours working in the lab, but tonight he's out on a mission with storm and scott. unsure on when he will be back, you go to his room to wait.

logan's sheets smell like he's never left. the perfect mix of cigar smoke and whiskey could make you arch your back. despite your original intentions of reading in his bed until he return, it didn't take you too long to strip yourself of your clothes and straddle one of his pillows in between your thighs.

meanwhile, downstairs logan pours himself a glass of whiskey to celebrate a successful mission. he checks the common room to see if you were in there but hank mentioned how you'd gone to back upstairs for the evening.

as he walked down the hallway, he could already smell you. logan carefully opens the door to see your naked back facing him as you rock your hips against his pillow. watching the scene in front of him play out makes him harder by the second.

you whimper, spreading your slick back and forth until the seam of the pillow, coating it in your arousal. too fucked out by your own rhythm to notice logan's presence in the room, not that he minded. he knew if you saw him watching you, you would shy away in embarrassment.

this way he can pay attention to every little thing that makes you tick. eyes screwed shut, lips parted, and eyebrows scrunched with pleasure. he'd never seen someone look so angelic.

"ah-fuck!" you moan as logan's big rough palm smacks your ass sharply. you turn back to look at him and feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

logan stands tall behind you, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and your ass cheek in the other, rubbing the tender skin. a lit cigar dangles from his kissable lips deliciously.

"look 'atcha doll..." he teases. "putting on a little show for me, huh?"

you stare up at logan like a puppy watching their owner dangle a treat in front of them.

"p-please, lo..." you whine, eyes watering with tears. "make the ache go away."

logan feels torn. on one hand he loves being the one to make you unravel but on the other hand, he wants to see how you managed to get yourself off before coming to him for help.

instead of answering, logan leaves you exactly where you are and sits down on the chair in the corner of his room.

"i'll help ya'... once i finish my drink." logan says.

you let out a soft groan, tilting your head back a little. as much as you want to beg him, the need to be his behaved good girl was stronger.

"l-logan..." your quiet whimper pulls him from his trance. "want you c-closer, please."

he gives in, bringing the chair to the edge of the bed and nursing his drink. you catch him off guard again when you reach for his hand on the mattress, squeezing hard as you chase after your orgasm. the small gesture almost makes him forget how filthy this scene looks.

"atta girl." he praises, letting you grip his hand as hard as you can while his other hand gropes your breast. "cum for me, sweetheart. i know you can do it."

logan's words were enough to tip you over the edge. broken moans spill out like a prayer. red puffy, tear stained cheeks. he tries his best to sooth them over with his thumb pad as you come down from your high.

"good job, baby." he smiles as you collapse forward on top of him.

you hum, snuggling up to him now. more relaxed than before.

"want ya' reward now?"

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bokunoheros · 4 months ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, katsuki/reader are friends w/ benefits, they are not officially dating, pro hero!katsuki, hickies/bruises/mentions of burn marks, swearing, orgasm denial, inappropriate quirk usage, katsuki’s bad at feelings, katsuki is unreasonably jealous, erm.. light?? blood kink, it’s soft at the end though, happy kinktober everyone GENRE: SMUT & FLUFF SUMMARY: katsuki doesn’t approve of the way shouto was looking at you—even though you’re both single and he has no real claim over you. WORD COUNT: 2.7K 🦊’s A/N: i can’t believe i’m the opening act but here we are; i rlly hope you guys enjoy what we have lined up for y’all :3

katsuki bakugou is mean and rude, possessive and somewhat controlling, and an arrogant bitch. whatever he wanted, he got; whenever something was his, everybody would be sure to know it. this, of course, translated a little too naturally into his sex life.

and when it came to you? god have mercy.

“shit–! katsuki!” you whine as he bites cruelly at the tender skin of your inner thighs before sucking over the spot, making sure his teeth grazed over the sensitive, heated flesh.

“huh?” though on the quieter side, his voice was just as gruff as it always was.

“please—!” is all you’re able to breath out as the large, calloused hands forcing your legs apart begin to spark, and—ow! fuck! “katsu! what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“tch, like you don’t know,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. surely you were just playing dumb. there was no way you didn’t know what the fucking problem was. he thinks back to your little conversation with shouto earlier—where that icyhot bastard practically eyefucked you the entire time (he had not, actually; it was just katsuki’s awful, Awful jealousy and insecurities flaring up despite you two not even being an item).

all you knew, though, was that he had been like this all damn night! biting you all over your flushed body — absolutely nowhere was safe from his teeth; your neck and throat, chest and midriff—hell, he even managed to leave hickies along your ribcage for christ’s sake!—and now, he was working on your thighs.

but if all that wasn’t already enough, his hands had occupied your hips most of the time as his quirk popped off repeatedly as his grip only tightened, not only leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, but also scorch marks on the flares of your hips.

“i don’t!” you protest in vain. in your mind, your conversation with shouto hadn’t crossed your mind—so the idea that katuski might be jealous? didn’t even register.

“yeah, right,” he barks out a laugh before diving back between your legs, burying his face into the fat of your thighs, where he sucked at the horribly sensitive skin there. and when you tried to close your legs around his head? he used his fucking quirk to keep them spread!

his sweaty palms had no problem with igniting small scale explosions against your heated and tender flesh, leaving behind little burn marks in their wake.

“god—dammit, katsuki!” you wail as his mouth gets dangerously close to your cunt, just to avoid it all together. “please—just! what's wrong?!” it's all you can do to choke back frustrated tears as your fuck buddy goes about leaving his physical claim on you—while leaving you all hot and bothered in the process.

“nothing's wrong, bitch—” his voice is strained and he sounds…… almost emotional? oh shit, was something seriously the matter?

in attempt to check up on him, one of your hands comes up to tug lightly at his spiky hair so he’ll look at you, but instead, he snatches your wrist up tightly, so hard you swear there’ll be bruises soon, as he looks up at you with narrowed, fiery eyes—they seemed…. glossier than they typically were; not that he looked like he was on the verge of tears or anything, but more so that he looked visibly distraught.

“keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” he spits out, his significantly larger hand sparking and popping around your poor wrist, and you can’t help but let out a yelp.

your faux concern was starting to piss katsuki off, and he physically can’t help the way his brows twitch and furrow in anger. there was no way you were really this dumb? (hey, einstein, maybe just, and here's an idea: tell them directly!) with a snarl, he bares his teeth (like a goddamn dog) and bites down harshly against the skin of your upper inner thigh, and he only bites down harder when you squeal and yell out his name, trying to free your wrist from his bruisingly tight grip.

in a desperate attempt to get him to calm down, you meekly choke out an apology—you didn’t know what you were sorry for, but you prayed it would be enough for bakugou to quit seething and just focus on something other than his anger.

“‘ll show you sorry,” he grunts, picking a new spot on the fatty flesh of your thighs to bite down on—this time, a few tears manage to slide down your cheeks as he bites so hard, you swear to god you felt the skin tear.

“ow–! katsu–ki! jesus christ!” your free hand now comes down to try and push his head away from in between your legs as you squirm uncomfortably on the bed. your efforts are in vain, however, as he begins sucking against the freshly marred skin, sloppily laving his tongue over the spot so he could lick up the blood he had, in fact, drawn. “‘m sorry—whatever i did, i'm sorry!” you cry out pathetically, causing katsuki to pause in his actions as his eyes flit upwards to meet your glassy ones.

“that's funny, you don't look very sorry,” he comments gruffly, the hand still placed on your thigh suddenly begins to pop off and spark against your reddened flesh.

“nngh–! fuck’s sake! what has gotten into you!?”

“nothing, i told you already,” he grunts out, the corner of his lips twitching in annoyance as he looks up at you, and suddenly humping the mattress while he lays between your thighs isn’t enough for him.

before you have time to question him again, he had already moved so he was hovering over you as he had been at the beginning of your little rendezvous, and after releasing your wrist, he uses one hand to support himself while the other tugs his all too tight boxer briefs down enough for his almost painfully hard cock to spring free. and in one swift movement, he gathers both your wrists in one large hand before pinning them above your head while his free hand grabs his dick to line it up with your embarrassingly wet slit, barely getting the tip in before he just has to bottom out entirely—right up to the base as he lets out a groan louder than he’d meant to. it wasn’t like it was his fault, though! you just felt soooo good; how was he supposed to keep his cool? (not that he kept it in any other aspect of his life……)

“aa–aah! nngh–! fuck! katsuki! you—mmfgh!” your words are cut off by a kiss, however, and your eyes widen at the sudden feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours and your wrists struggle in his horribly tight grip, unsure of how to react — you had both agreed on no kissing when originally setting up boundaries during sex! truthfully, you didn’t think it would have lasted as long as it had — as you had almost kissed him several times prior, but always caught yourself before you had the chance to make a fool out of yourself — but you never would have thought katsuki would be the one to break that rule! ?!?!

arching your back as he begins to thrust his hips, slowly at first, before quickly picking up the pace, you reluctantly give in to the kiss as your chest presses against his.

katsuki, meanwhile, was buzzing with too many unfamiliar emotions to process — it wasn’t that he was a simple man per se, far from it, in fact, but his primary emotion was anger, and was one of the few ways he knew how to express himself. now, though, he finds himself in highly unfamiliar territory as his heart hammers in his chest; the last time he had been this genuinely scared was the time he had been kidnapped by the league of villains, and even then, he thinks he prefers it to the way he felt right now. the fear of rejection absolutely plagued his mind the moment his lips had crashed against yours, but it was way too fuckin’ late to change that now, so instead, he doubles down and allows his tongue to slip out and slide over the seam of your lips before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nips at it hard enough to draw the smallest bit of blood.

“nngh–!” you had no clue what the hell was wrong with katsuki until he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and, for the first time in. …? as long as you can recall, he looks so…… vulnerable, like he was scared (and he was!), and for some reason, that just broke your heart.

“just talk to me, katsuki,” you say softly, tongue flicking over your slightly bloody lip as you look up at him through thick, tear-dampened eyelashes. before you two were fuck buddies, you had managed to become good friends; given, the dynamic was a bit odd, as bakugou was not known for being a “friendly” person, let alone perceived as sociable, but. here he was! balls deep in his best friend, whom he wanted all to himself without even realizing until, well, just now, really.

“i don’t want you talking to that icyhot bastard ever again,” he finally spits out, voice nearly cracking. he keeps his shit together, though, as he continues to fuck you like he hates your guts. “you’re mine, got it?” his cheeks are flushed red (a rare sight) as he pants heavily from on top of you, embarrassed by his own words, even though you obviously needed to hear them in order to remember who you belong to. …even though the two of you never disclosed the other couldn’t fuck anyone else; even though you were fully free to decide who you wanted to suck, lick, n fuck, katsuki hopes—silently prays, even—that you’d decide he was the only one you needed.

“what?” your eyes fly open at his words and your body freezes beneath him. “ka–katsuki, ‘m not yours—” he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces before you’re even done speaking, and he has to bite his tongue from lashing out. “we’re not even dating! y–you can’t be possessive over s–somethin’ that’s not— not even yours!” you try to reprimand him until you see the look that came over his face—the way his pouty lips tug into a deep frown and brows furrowed lightly, not out of anger but, rather, confusion—and suddenly you can’t bring yourself to scold him anymore. seeing katsuki, someone usually so outwardly hardened and tough, look this pitiful….. well, it made your heart ache, and your own expression softens as his pace subconsciously slows down as he waits with bated breath until you’re done talking.

“oh, katsuki,” you sigh deeply, rolling your hips gently upwards to meet his as you look up at him with watery eyes. “you’re such an idiot,” you can’t help but giggle as you crane your head upwards in an attempt to kiss him once again — what the unfortunate blond hadn’t realized is that you had been in love with him within the first year of knowing him.

“huh?!” is his immediate response before you had leaned in for a kiss, and suddenly the dots click. he easily closes the distance between the two of you (not that there was much to begin with), and kisses you a little more softly this time, a little less angrily.

after a very heated moment, katsuki slowly pulls away and looks at you sincerely — his heart not quite on his sleeve, but as close to that as he’s ever been, ready to shut down at the first sight of genuine rejection; but before he gets the chance to stew on the thought any harder, you break him out of his headspace by saying exactly what he needed to hear.

“there’s nothing going on between shouto and i—in fact, i haven’t even dated anyone in years because of you,” you tell him, wrists straining against his grip again and, this time, he gets the cue and gently releases them so you can tenderly cup his face and bring him in for another kiss. carefully moving your lips against his, you moan softly, asking for him to start fucking you again, and he happily obliges, with a renewed confidence at your admission.

katsuki really does feel like an idiot as his hips roll against yours, fucking you with a different kind of resolve this time.

“‘ve been in love with you since our second year of high school,” you confess, a little quietly. it doesn’t go unheard by katsuki, however, and a smirk stretches across his face as he quirks an eyebrow up at you. you two had only started hooking up once he had gone pro and desperately needed an outlet for his stress.

bakugou finds himself rendered speechless for once in his loud-mouthed life and he isn’t quite sure how to process your words. he believed you, mostly, but……. it was just very difficult to believe because….. well, why wouldn’t you want todoroki over him? it seems like the obvious choice, no? and yet…. here the two of you are, bodies sweaty and entwined as you both pant in attempt to catch your breaths, and you move to wrap your arms around his neck when you notice that faraway look in his eyes coming back—falling victim to his own mind once more.

“‘m serious, kats,” you say sternly, brows furrowing as you move your sore legs to wrap around his narrow waist, crossing them at the ankle and pull his hips flush against yours. “mmh,” your heart is hammering at what you’re about to say, but you’ve already come this far. “i love you, katsuki bakugou,” you say softly, threading your fingers through his unnaturally spiky blond locks as you look up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes.

katsuki’s eyes widen considerably at your words, and instead of bringing himself to choke out an i love you too, he kisses you deeply and shallowly thrusts his hips against yours as his tongue easily slides into your already parted lips, already having prepared yourself to not receive a verbal answer from katsuki. you knew he was absolutely god fucking awful at words, and you didn’t exactly expect him to reciprocate your feelings.

in your mind, he only picked you as his fuck buddy because he had known you too long and he wasn’t the type to fuck strangers, when in reality it was because katsuki was disgustingly in love with you, not that he had realized that prior to now—your words had awoken something in him and it feels so unfamiliar, and the unfamiliarity is what causes him to almost fumble you—almost, he has enough sense about him to mumble the quietest, raspiest, aggressive i guess i love…. he chokes on the word itself, never actually having had said it before—ever?—but manages to spit it the fuck out so he doesn’t lose the best friend—and pussy—he’s ever had. he sounds confused when he says finally manages to say an i love you, too but the fact that he even brought himself to say something so inherently soft and vulnerable (even if his tone wasn’t) cause your eyes to fly open in raw shock and disbelief, fully unable to believe your ears.

“you—you do?” no. there was no way he had just said that!

“don’t make a big deal out of it, and don’t expect to f'me to say it again anytime soon, y’hear?” he replies, face beet fuckin’ red, blush having spread all the way up to his ears as he moves to bury his face in the crook of your neck to hide it away from your view, where he began to nip and suck at the skin there again, only adding to the collection of hickies he had already left. ah, there’s the katsuki you fell in love with.

you smile at his words regardless of how gruff he sounded about it, heart (and cunt) so, so full and content, your grin stretching across your face until your cheeks hurt, and you can’t help but giggle quietly as he continues to mark you up, hips moving slowly, but each thrust hitting deep, the thick tip of his dick threatening to kiss up against your cervix if he went any deeper.

you would have to have a discussion with him about what you two were after this, but for now, you arch your back and close your eyes as you enjoy the feel of his lips against your skin and the way his thick cock stretches you out so deliciously.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

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angel-sweets666 · 8 months ago

Text

Hallway crush

katsuki bakugo x general studies! Reader

Bakugo never had a crush before, now he’s got his eye on a girl from general studies.

Mentions of Hitoshi Shinso

a/n tbh w you I think the bakugo photo is a bkdk photo (IM SORRY I JUST DONT SHIP BAKUDEKU I DONT SEE THEM TOGETHER)

It all began on your first day at UA. Bakugo noticed you in the halls, walking with a certain purple-haired boy named Hitoshi shinso . He couldn't take his eyes off you; you were just his type, even though he never realized he had a type until that moment. He had never really paid much attention to girls before. Sure, he had a few girlfriends in middle school, but he never felt anything special for them.

As you strolled down the hallway, your smile lit up the entire space. Bakugo watched, captivated, as you giggled with your violet-haired classmate, practically skipping along down the hall. You seemed to be in such a good mood for someone who hadn’t made it into the hero course. Your positivity was infectious, making him actually want to be around you

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat a little faster, and he found himself wanting to know more about you. What made you laugh so easily? What was your favourite food? Did you have siblings? Would you like a hot head like him? Could you even handle bakugo? You were a mystery he wanted to solve. Bakugo didn't understand why he felt this way, but he couldn't deny the growing interest.

You were always surrounded by friends, your vibrant energy making you the center of attention. Despite the fact that you weren't in the hero course, you carried yourself with a confidence and joy that Bakugo couldn't help but admire. It was as if you had your own hero-like aura, one that drew people in and made them feel at ease.

Bakugo began to realize that his feelings for you were more than just a passing curiosity. You had awakened something in him, a desire to get closer to you and understand the person behind the radiant smile. And so, he watched from afar, waiting for the right moment to make his move and hoping that one day, he could be the reason for your laughter and joy.

Kirishima raised an eyebrow as he watched Bakugo turn his head in your direction, his usually rough and angry face softening into an unexpectedly tender gaze. Bakugo was actually admiring someone? The redhead grinned, his sharp teeth flashing. "Has someone got a crush?" he teased, nudging Bakugo playfully on the shoulder.

"Shut it, shitty hair, I do not have a crush," Bakugo growled back, his entire face turning a shade of pink from embarrassment. Kirishima chuckled at his friend's flustered reaction, but Bakugo's glare was deadly serious.

Kirishima placed a reassuring hand on Bakugo's shoulder. "Hey man, it's okay! She's cute."

"Back off," Bakugo interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, as if claiming dibs on you.

Kirishima raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back. "Backing off. I'm backing off," he said, showing respect to the blonde. He couldn't help but grin at Bakugo's protectiveness. It was rare to see this side of him, and Kirishima couldn't resist giving him a hard time about it.

As Bakugo tried to shake off the embarrassment, his eyes found you again. Despite his rough exterior and harsh words, there was no denying the softness in his gaze. Kirishima had never seen Bakugo like this before. It kind of scared him, but it also made him realize that Bakugo wasn’t some heartless, angry boy. He was just a teenage boy with a crush on a girl. A hallway crush

on the day Bakugo finally grew the courage to talk to you, which was the first day he ever had to muster the courage to do literally anything, was a couple of days after the sports festival. You had performed well enough in the festival that he actually had something to talk about.

As you were eating your lunch in the cafeteria of UA High School, you felt a strong hand tap your shoulder. “Hey… you… you fought Denki Kaminari,” Bakugo said, his cheeks pinker than usual.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to send his quirk into overdrive!” you gasped, looking genuinely concerned.

“No! No, it’s fine… it was funny… he’s dumb,” Bakugo tried to calm you down, stumbling over his words in a way that was very uncharacteristic for him.

You laughed softly, the sound easing some of Bakugo’s tension. “Well, I’m glad it was entertaining,” you said, smiling up at him.

Bakugo’s heart skipped a beat at your smile. He had never been this nervous about talking to anyone before, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. “You did good out there,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the admiration in his voice.

“Thanks, Bakugo. That means a lot coming from you,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with genuine appreciation.

Kirishima, watching from a distance, couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Bakugo like this made him realize that even the toughest people have soft spots. And for Bakugo, that soft spot was you.

And that’s how your friendship blossomed. Bakugo would practically run out of his classroom every day, with Kirishima trailing behind him, usually shouting, "Wait up, man! You'll see her soon!" But Bakugo wouldn't listen. He just wanted to see your sweet face.

You developed your own crush on Bakugo. For someone so accomplished, who believed he was better than everyone else, he was surprisingly a good friend. He always grabbed your bags for you, helped you with your homework—hell, he even did your homework for you sometimes! He made sure you had all your stationery before class. It made you want to kiss him all over his pretty face.

In your eyes, Bakugo was a sweet boy, while in his classmates' eyes, he was rude and loud. You rarely saw him in that state. Sure, he called you "dumbass" from time to time and scolded you for doing something silly, but he never outright yelled at you. He could never bring himself to yell at someone so pretty.

Bakugo’s friends noticed the change in him whenever you were around. His usual fiery temper seemed to mellow, replaced with a gentleness that was almost unrecognizable. They teased him about it, but Bakugo didn't care. Seeing you smile made everything worth it.

Your friendship grew stronger with each passing day. You found yourself looking forward to the moments you shared, whether it was walking to class together, studying side by side, or simply talking about your dreams and aspirations. Bakugo’s rough edges seemed to smooth out when he was with you, and you cherished the soft side of him that he showed only to you.

The day he asked you out was adorable and you’d never have it any other way

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of another intense day at UA High School, Bakugo had a plan in mind. He had been working up the courage to ask you out for weeks, and today, he decided, was the day.

"Hey, dumbass," he called out as he approached you in the hallway. His tone was gruff as usual, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. "Got a minute?"

You looked up from your locker, surprised to see Bakugo waiting for you. "Sure, what's up?"

"I was thinking… maybe we could hang out for a bit. Just the two of us." He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to play it cool.

You smiled, delighted by the idea. "I'd like that."

As you walked out of the school together, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the campus. Bakugo led you to a quiet spot behind the school where you often studied together. It was a small garden area, secluded and peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle of the main campus.

You sat down on a bench, and Bakugo joined you, his usual confident demeanor somewhat replaced by a rare nervousness. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"Look, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, avoiding your gaze for a moment before finally looking directly into your eyes. "You're important to me. More than anyone else. I… I like you. A lot."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always sensed there was something more between you two, but hearing Bakugo say it out loud made your chest swell with emotion.

"I like you too, Bakugo," you admitted, your voice soft but sincere.

His face lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "Good. 'Cause I wanna be more than friends. I wanna be your boyfriend. So, what do you say?"

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'd love that."

Bakugo's trademark smirk returned, but it was softer, filled with genuine affection. "Great. Now, let's get out of here. There's a café I know nearby. I'll treat you to something nice."

As you walked away from UA, hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something wonderful. Bakugo, despite his rough exterior, had shown you a side of him that was caring and gentle.

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dark-moonlust · 4 months ago

Text

The Griffin’s Claim

Pairing: griffin x f!human reader Summary: your mate is obsessed with flying in the sky while you are strapped to his cock. He wants to keep your pussy stretched and filled. Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+!!, oral(fem receiving), tail stimulation, big 🍆, p in v sex, flying while strapped, lots of 💦.

This is one of my top fav smut. Please let me know if you liked it!!!

It was a lovely morning, and you had just finished your chores at the village. You walked deep within the forest, then headed up the slope, waiting at the clearing. It had been six months since you’d started dating your griffin, and despite your differences you had learned how to work things out. Interspecies matings were rare but not impossible in your age and time. With patience, you had even managed to take your boyfriend’s monster cock, though he was still training you to accept more pleasure.

At that thought, your pussy became wet and you rubbed your thighs to alleviate the need.

You heard your mate approach before you saw him.

The dense forest around you seized to exist as the powerful griffin you called yours, descended from the sky. He flapped his powerful wings with its colorful feathers, his body strong and lean, that of a lion. He had the head of an eagle, a long tail and wings that spanned wide across the sky. His eyes were sharp and bright amber, and they could see miles ahead.

Right now, his eyes were fixed on you as he landed gracefully before you. He was huge and tall, four times your height and tones heavier. But he was also so tender with you. He held you close to his tawny lion coated body, his wings coming to envelope your smaller frame. You buried your face in his fur, feeling completely protected while his beak nuzzled against your face.

“Ready to go home, my mate?” he asked, his voice husky. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, my love.”

Smiling you prepared to ride his back when he stopped you with a soft click of his tongue. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sweetheart?”

You pouted, shifted nervously because you knew what he meant. He wanted to strap you to his cock while flying. It was one of his ways to stretch your pussy. You had tried it a couple of times, always in the dead of the night when no one could see you. You still recalled how deep he had fucked you while soaring the sky. And the orgasms… they were so intense and toe-curling.

“Again? I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and thrill.

“You’re my mate,” he said, his shining amber eyes gazing into yours. “You can do this and you should be proud of that. Proud of taking my cock so beautifully.”

His words caused more liquid heat to pool in your pussy. “But… it’s broad light and someone might see. It’s shameful.”

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Shameful? No, my sweet. It’s necessary. Because your tight pussy needs lots of preparation. It will take me at least half an hour to fly us back to our home, and that’s more than enough time to stretch your soaked little cunt around my cock.”

“People might see…” you trailed off, eyes lowering to the ground.

“Oh, I will make sure they see how gorgeous you are.”

With a gentle yet firm grip, he turned you around, lowering you on your hands and knees. You whimpered but obeyed as his large, clawed hands tore your clothes, tossing them away. You felt the sun kiss your bare skin. He really was going to prepare you for this. And your treacherous core clenched at that thought.

Sitting down behind you, your mate caressed the lines of your body, careful of his claws. “Smooth and soft.”

Strong hands cupped your breasts, enfolding them completely in his strong grip. He felt them up, massaging the pert mounds that were far too small in contrast to his massive palms. He rubbed around your aching nipples, flicking the buds. You whined and pressed back against him, seeking more. His touch trailed down your belly and he gripped your hips, spreading your legs apart and bearing your pussy and ass to his view.

“Let’s loosen you up so you can take my cock deep, hmm?” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

“Please… it’s so open here—”

“Be a good girl for me,” he said, slapping your bum lightly and causing you to jerk.

“Hey!”

Another slap, this time closer to your pussy.

You whined and wiggled your ass.

“Be good or else I’ll fuck both your naughty holes, cock in your pussy, tail in your ass.”

You stayed still at the (delectable) threat. “I’ll be good.”

Chuckling darkly, he leaned closer and opened his wings to shield you as his hot breath ghosted over your pussy. You bit back a whine and closed your eyes when he licked you up, his wide tongue lapping at your entrance. You clutched the soil and moaned softly as he ate you out, tilting his head slightly to the side, so that he didn’t hurt you with his beak. His tongue was blessedly long and it worked its way inside you, stretching and fucking your hole until you were panting with need, your embarrassment giving way to pleasure.

“Look at you,” he purred as he watched your pussy flutter. “So wet, so ready for me. Fuck… I want to be so deep inside you.”

Before you could respond, he positioned his front legs at the sides of your head, his underbelly pressing against your spine. The tip of his massive cock pressed against your entrance, probing carefully. It popped in with a wet sound and you both moaned loudly. A slow, deliberate thrust and he pushed further inside, pushing past the resistance of your body, filling you inch by inch. You cried out and arched back, the stretch almost too much to bear once he bottomed up inside you.

The angle was intense, his cock filling you so deep that your belly bulged with his size. You felt the fat head kissing your cervix, his ridges and protrusions stimulating your walls. Taking his dick seemed almost impossible but not painful, even if you were a human. You were his fated one, it was the reason why you could mate so intimately with him.

“Damn, so tight,” he growled as he thrusted deep, drawing back his cock which was laved in your juices before slamming back in. “But you’re taking me so well, such a good mate. Such a good cunt.”

His tail sneaked between your thighs, the tip rubbing your clit. You blabbered inarticulate words, your body trembling beneath him, his deliberate ministrations blindsiding you. Mating and fucking your monster boyfriend was no simple job. It took much more work than a regular human relationship. But you’d change nothing. You wanted him so much and it felt so good to be filled by him, body and soul.

Wet squelching sounds echoed through the clearing as you rocked against your mate, taking his monster shaft over and over. Your cunt stretched and tried to suck him in, fitting him like a glove. He growled and pounded his talons on the ground and it didn’t take long for both of you to reach your peak.

You came first, white-hot pleasure exploding like lightning bolts and taking over your body. Your whole frame trembled violently as he buried his shaft deep and released with a shrill, probably alerting the whole forest. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your insides, his seed like a torrent at first then turning into ripples that slowly stopped.

Drawing back, his large cock left your pussy with a lewd squelch. You whined, feeling his seed trickle down your folds then drenching your thighs. Turning you head gently, his beak traced your lips in imitation of a kiss. When you opened your mouth, his long, flexible tongue slipped inside to explore your mouth. Your tongues danced together, and you tasted your arousal on his tongue.

”Now, let’s get you strapped on, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes glinting down at you.

“Pl…ease,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea. “It’s too much…”

“Is it painful, little one? Is that why you are so against it?”

“No!” you said firmly. “It’s just… I’m so sensitive, I’m gonna cum again—”

“Great. I want you cumming again and again, making a mess all over.”

With that, he rolled you on your back and lowered his body, so you were under his lion underbelly. Using his beak, he released the leather bindings at his sides and pressed even closer to you, his cock throbbing against your cum-stained pussy. Gulping audibly, you looked at his shaft; it had a stout round tip and surrounding ridges and protrusions along its length. And it was still rock hard, jutting against your folds proudly.

Your breath hitched when he thrust forward, impaling you in one smooth glide. You were far too wet and he stretched you open once again, taking away your ability to think with how deep and big he was. This time he didn’t fuck you. He stayed buried deep inside, your belly bulging against his own.

“Now strap the bindings safely around you,” he ordered softly, his eyes leaving no room for refusal.

Breathing shakily, you began to secure the buckles that cradled your bum, then the ones that fastened around your waist. It wasn’t an easy task… with his cock throbbing deep inside you and his fur rubbing against your sensitive nipples. After some minutes of fumbling and moaning at the friction, you managed to seal your body to his, both of you locked as one. You wrapped your arms around his body, your legs up in the air.

Your mate tested the security of the bindings, shifting to his full height, taking you with him. Suspended in the air, you nearly sobbed at the sensations. The slightest movements caused his cock to plunge and tease your insides. Your mate growled low, affected by the feel of you as he walked back and forth, with your weight under him, his cock pulsing inside you. Then he stood on his back talons, embracing you with his front legs. Just to make this doubly secure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s how I want you to take me. All the time.”

You could only hum and he spread his wings, his powerful muscles flexing as he prepared to fly. With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, the wind rushing against your skin, combined with the constant pressure of his cock inside you. Each beat of his wings took you high above the trees until the forest landscape became a distant blur. His cock drove you wild, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly, the sound lost in the flapping of his wings.

“That’s it,” he said loud enough for your to hear. “My perfect human mate, so full and stretched around me.”

The fly back home passed in a blur of moans and bliss. He gave you one orgasm after another, his seed filling you, leaking down your thighs in obscene amounts. He floated low enough to show you off, roaring proudly as he marked you for all to see, the scent of him bathing you. By the time you reached home, you were covered in his cum, exhausted but blissfully fucked.

Please let me know what you think? Comments and reblogs would make me super happy!

#griffin smut #griffin x reader #griffin x you #griffin fuckers #monster x reader #monster x you #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster lover #monster fucker #monster fudger #monster romance #monster x female reader #terat0philliac #terato #monster kink

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pedroshotwifey · 10 months ago

Note

Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭

Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅

Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤

Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader

Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 1.9k

Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.

What Matters

“Are you sure, baby?”

Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure.

“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily.

You’re both lying in his bed, completely bare. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.

Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him.

But what if he can’t?

You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes?

It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be.

But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now.

“Joel?”

His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore.

“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right.

You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes.

He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes.

His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year.

It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself.

“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you.

“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.”

You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you?

Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you whine.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.

He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure.

“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.

But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him.

He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.

“I’m sorry, baby, I—”

“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—”

You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face.

You love him. You said it. And he believes you.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters.

Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin.

“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him.

He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back.

He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back.

It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm.

By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time.

You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now.

You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.

It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat.

“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained.

“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.

And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria.

When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts.

*****

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pbaz7 · 18 days ago

Text

ONE SHOT: WHAT YOU HEARD

paige x azzi

warning: drinking, sexual content, cheating

word count: 13k

A/N: Someone asked me to do a one shot based on Sonder What You Heard so this is my attempt at that. It was a little hard but I tried my best. This is also for all the whores who wanted a “bonus” scene from against the tide. It’s not post library but it’s something! Lmk what you think and leave live reacts 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

The locker room was nearly silent, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the space as Paige pushed the door open. She had just finished talking to Geno after practice, her mind still half in the conversation. But when her eyes landed on Azzi, sitting alone on the bench, her brow furrowed and her phone resting limply in her hand, she paused mid-step.

“What’s wrong Az?” Paige asked, her voice softer than usual.

Azzi didn’t look up immediately. Instead, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Nothing,” she muttered under her breath, but even that word cracked with doubt.

Paige leaned against the row of lockers, crossing her arms as a scoff escaped her lips. “Bullshit,” she said bluntly. Her eyes darted to the phone in Azzi’s hand. “He still hasn’t texted you back, has he?”

Azzi hesitated, her face tightening before she sighed. “He’s busy. You know how he is.”

“Busy my ass, Azzi,” Paige said, the irritation in her tone clear. “He’s on the football team, and they’re not even that good.”

Azzi’s head shot up, a glare in her eyes. “You just don’t like him,” she shot back defensively.

Paige didn’t flinch, didn’t even pretend to deny it. Instead, her expression stayed the same, and she shrugged. “You’re right I don’t like him. I sure as hell don’t respect him. He’s a bitch.”

Azzi let out a low groan, running a hand down her face. “Paige…”

“What?” Paige asked, pushing off the lockers and taking a step closer. “You don’t need me to tell you this again. You know it already. He treats you like a backup plan. Like you’re the one waiting in line for him to decide if he’s got time for you.” Her voice softened, but her frustration didn’t fade. “And that’s not who you are, Azzi.”

Azzi glanced at her phone again, her thumb hovering over the screen like she was willing a message to appear. “It’s not like that,” she muttered.

“Isn’t it?” Paige said. Her voice dropped, taking on an edge of exasperation. “Look, I’m not saying this because I want to hurt you when you’re already upset Az. I’m saying it because watching you settle for this shit—this dude who doesn’t even realize what he’s got—it drives me insane.”

Azzi’s hand clenched around her phone, but her gaze finally met Paige’s. There was a flicker of doubt there, a crack in the armor she always tried to keep up. “You don’t get it,” she whispered.

“No, Azzi,” Paige said, stepping closer now, her tone softer but no less certain. “I get it more than you do. I get that you’re in the wrong hands. That he doesn’t see you, not the way you deserve to be seen. And I don’t get how you don’t see it yet.”

Azzi opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. Paige tilted her head, her voice dropping into something almost tender. “You think this is normal? Waiting around for some guy who only shows up when it’s convenient for him? You don’t have to put up with that. You’re so much more than that.”

Azzi finally set her phone down on the bench beside her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She sighed deeply, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not that easy, Paige.”

Paige crouched down in front of her, catching Azzi’s gaze. “I never said it would be easy,” she said quietly. “But I promise you—he’s not worth this.”

There was a heavy silence between them, and in that moment, Paige’s thoughts were louder than her words. But instead of saying anything, she just held Azzi’s gaze, hoping the truth in her eyes was enough to make Azzi finally listen to her.

Azzi’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification. She didn’t reach for it right away, her gaze flicking between Paige and the phone. Her fingers twitched like she was torn between two choices.

Finally, she spoke. “Why do you care so much?”

Paige let out a breathy laugh, one that sounded almost pained. “Why wouldn’t I pretty girl? I’m your best friend” she said as her eyes softened.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, tired smile, the tension in her face easing just slightly. “I love you,” she said, her tone light and easy, like she had said it a thousand times before. But the way she said it—it wasn’t what Paige wanted to hear. It wasn’t the kind of love Paige wished for, the kind that had been eating away at her for months now.

Paige swallowed hard, forcing herself to return the sentiment in kind. “I love you too,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest.

Azzi’s phone buzzed again, the sound cutting through the stillness of the locker room. This time, she glanced down at it, her thumb swiping across the screen. Whatever she saw on the display made her lips press into a tight line, her brows furrowing all over again.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just shook her head with a sigh. Turning away, she walked to her locker, her movements a little sharp but still measured, betraying none of the emotions churning beneath the surface.

The air in the room grew heavy again, but Paige didn’t look back. She didn’t trust herself to, not with the lump rising in her throat and the bitter taste of unspoken words lingering on her tongue.

…

Azzi’s legs rested comfortably across Paige’s lap as she leaned back against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. Paige sat against the wall, her notebook balanced on her thighs, though the words on the page had long since blurred into the background. Azzi held Paige’s right hand, her thumb lazily brushing over the back of it as if the touch was second nature.

Paige’s eyes flicked to their hands, a sly smile pulling at her lips. She tilted her head back against the wall, breaking the silence with a low, teasing tone. “You know, if you keep holding my hand like this, I might start thinking you’re trying to tell me something.”

Azzi glanced up, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oh, please. You’re the one who hasn’t let go.”

Paige smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Right. I’m sure I’m the clingy one here,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her gaze dropped to Azzi’s fingers still idly tracing patterns on her hand. “But hey, if this is your silent way of saying you like me better than the midget, I’m not gonna argue.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Paige shrugged, her free hand brushing lightly over Azzi’s thigh. “Maybe. But let’s be honest—you don’t let him do this, do you?” She tilted her head, her voice taking on an edge. “I mean, does he even know how to touch you like this?”

Azzi froze for a moment, her eyes darting to Paige’s face. “Paige…” she started, but her voice wavered, and Paige didn’t miss it.

Paige leaned in a little more, her smirk softening into something more deliberate. “What? Just saying. If he knew how to make you feel the way you deserve…” She paused, her voice dipping. “You wouldn’t be sitting here with me, holding my hand like it’s the only thing keeping you together.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip on Paige’s hand tightening slightly, though she didn’t respond. Paige could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the way her lips parted as if to argue but no words came out.

Paige’s heart raced, the heat in the room thickening as she decided to push just a little further. “You don’t have to say it out loud, Az,” she murmured, her tone quiet. “But deep down, you know. He could never—” Paige hesitated for just a beat, the words of the song she’d listen too all too much lately m echoing in her mind before she continued talking. Let me unleash my demons on you.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her phone slipping slightly in her hand as Paige’s meaning settled over her. She blinked, her gaze locked on Paige, curiosity and something deeper sparking in her eyes. “Paige…” she said again, softer this time, almost uncertain but it was the only word she could muster.

“What?” Paige asked, her voice softening as well but still laced with the same teasing edge. “You deserve someone who knows how to make you feel good. Someone who actually puts you first.” She leaned back against the wall, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I mean, you keep waiting around for him, hoping he’ll figure it out, but… what if you’re wasting your time?”

Azzi looked down at their hands, her thumb still brushing against Paige’s knuckles, though the motion was slower now. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she seemed frozen, caught between denial and the weight of Paige’s words.

Paige’s smirk returned, softer this time but no less confident. “All I’m saying is, if you ever want to find out what it’s like to be with someone who actually knows what they’re doing…” Her voice dropped lower, her words hanging in the charged air between them. “You know where to find me.”

Azzi’s lips parted to respond, but a knock at her door cut through the charged air. She let out a small sigh of relief, leaning her head back against the headboard. “Come in!” she called out.

The door opened to reveal her boyfriend, Cam, who strolled in with a casual air. Azzi gave him a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey,” she said softly, shifting slightly but not moving her legs from Paige’s lap.

Cam walked over and leaned down, giving Azzi a half-hug, his arm awkwardly draped around her shoulders. She barely moved, still holding Paige’s hand as she scrolled her thumb idly across her screen. Cam straightened, finally acknowledging Paige with a nod. “Wassup, Paige?” He put out his hand for a quick dap.

Paige barely glanced up from her notes, tilting her head up at him in acknowledgment but making no move to reciprocate the gesture. The air in the room thickened with unspoken tension, and Cam, clearly picking up on it, lowered his hand, chuckling awkwardly.

Paige had never been subtle about her disdain for him, and her icy reaction was no surprise to anyone in the room.

Trying to lighten the mood, Cam looked at their interlocked hands and cracked a grin. “Damn, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to steal my girl man.”

Paige’s head finally lifted, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips. “If I wanted your girlfriend,” she said evenly, her voice dripping with confidence, “I would have her.”

Azzi’s eyes widened slightly, the heat rising up her neck. Her fingers instinctively tightened around Paige’s, though she quickly let go, tucking her hand into her lap.

Cam blinked, caught off guard by the boldness of her statement, his expression twisting into a mix of confusion and irritation. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking down at Azzi as if expecting her to defend him.

But before Azzi could say anything, Paige was already standing, sliding Azzi’s legs off her lap with an ease that felt almost dismissive. “Relax, Cameron it’s a joke,” Paige said, tapping his shoulder a little harshly, her smirk still firmly in place. She grabbed her notebook and bag, walking over to the other side of the bed.

She leaned down to hug Azzi, the embrace feeling much more intimate than it should have. Paige’s lips brushed dangerously close to Azzi’s neck as she whispered, her voice low, “I’ll catch you later, Az.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her body betraying her as her breath hitched slightly. Paige pulled back, straightening up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. She turned toward the door, throwing one last glance at Cam, her smile lingering like a challenge.

“Bye, P,” Azzi murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

“Later pretty girl,” Paige replied smoothly, not sparing Cam another glance as she walked out the door.

The room fell into an awkward silence, Cam still staring at the door as if trying to process what had just happened. Azzi shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixed on the bed as she absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck, the ghost of Paige’s closeness still lingering.

Cam turned back to her, his tone sharp. “What the hell was that?”

Azzi blinked up at him, her voice calm but slightly irritated from their argument earlier. “What was what?”

Cam’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Azzi, don’t be stupid,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She basically just said she could take you from me. You’re just gonna sit there like that didn’t happen?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, leaning back against the headboard with an exasperated sigh. “She was just messing with you, Cam. Relax.”

“Messing with me?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “You call that messing around? That wasn’t a joke. You two were—” He gestured toward where her legs had been draped over Paige’s lap. “That’s not normal, Azzi!”

Azzi sat up straighter, her irritation now matching his. “What do you mean it’s not normal? She’s my best friend. We’ve always been close like that.”

Cam scoffed, his disbelief evident. “Close? That wasn’t close. That was…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Look, I’m not stupid. There’s something weird about the way she looks at you, the way she acts around you.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, her tone sharp. “You’re reading into things that aren’t there because you do shit you shouldn’t be doing.”

Cam let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “So you’re telling me she wouldn’t fuck you if you gave her the chance?”

The question surprised Azzi, and she froze for a split second, her body betraying her with a slight twitch of her fingers. Her mind betrayed her even more.

She shouldn’t have thought about it—she really shouldn’t have. But suddenly, Paige’s words from earlier echoed in her head, her low voice taunting Cam with that annoying ass confidence: If I wanted your girlfriend, I would have her.

A flash of memory followed. The way Paige’s lips hovered just a little too close to her neck when they hugged, the way her eyes lingered on Azzi’s mouth when she teased her about Cam. Let me unleash my demons on you. The words Paige had sung before played over in her mind, sending an involuntary shiver through her.

Azzi shook the thought off almost as quickly as it came, her chest tightening as she forced herself to look back at Cam. She smoothed her expression, keeping her tone flat. “She doesn’t want to fuck me, Cameron.”

Cam gave her a skeptical look, his jaw tightening. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the hem of her sweatshirt. “I’m sure,” she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

But as Cam stood there staring her down, Azzi couldn’t ignore the heat rising to her neck, the way her heart thudded just a little too loudly in her chest. Because the truth—the one she’d never admit out loud—was that Paige absolutely would, and Azzi couldn’t help but wonder for the briefest of moments what it might feel like if she let her.

…

Paige’s dorm room was dimly lit, the golden glow of her desk lamp casting a warm haze over the space. Azzi sat cross-legged on Paige’s bed, her fingers absently picking at a loose thread on her hoodie. Paige, seated at her desk, glanced up from her notes to steal a glance at Azzi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since walking in.

“Alright, spit it out,” Paige said, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. “You’ve been sitting there for twenty minutes looking like someone just canceled Christmas. What happened?”

Azzi let out a sigh, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t give me that this time Az. What he said he was too busy to talk, or he forgot something important again?

Azzi sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s not always about him.”

“Yeah? Because nine times out of ten when you come in here lookin like that, it’s about him.”

Azzi stayed quiet, which was answer enough.

Paige let out a laugh, shaking her head as she spun her chair to face Azzi fully. “Rightt. Because he’s such a busy guy. Averaging 100 claps at practice right?”

“Stop,” Azzi said, her tone defensive, though there was no real anger behind it. “You don’t have to keep tearing him down.”

Paige shrugged, unbothered. “I wouldn’t have to if he gave me a reason to respect him.” She stood, crossing the small room in a few steps and leaning against the edge of her dresser. “But let’s be real, Az. You deserve better. And I don’t mean just slightly better—I mean way better.”

Azzi looked up at her, her eyes searching Paige’s face. “Like who? You?”

Paige’s smirk was immediate, her confidence unwavering. “Yeah. Me.”

Azzi laughed softly, but there was a hint of nervousness in the sound. “You’re unbelievable.”

Paige tilted her head, her eyes glinting with something. “Am I? Or am I just saying what I know you’ve already been thinking?”

Azzi’s lips parted, but no words came out. Paige took a step closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, her knee brushing against Azzi’s leg.

“Let’s be honest, Azzi,” Paige said, her voice dropping to a low, velvety tone. “He doesn’t see you. Not the way I do. He doesn’t know how to handle someone like you, with a life like yours, how to make you feel like the only person in the room.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her hoodie. “Paige—”

“I’m just saying,” Paige continued, leaning in slightly, her lips curving into a smirk. “If it were me, you wouldn’t have to ask for anything. You wouldn’t have to wonder if you mattered. I’d make sure you knew—every second of every day.”

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. The air in the room felt heavier, charged with something Azzi couldn’t just brush off.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Azzi whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Paige’s smirk softened, but her intensity didn’t waver. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I know exactly what I’m saying. You’re just in denial. I know he doesn’t touch you the way you deserve to be touched. Make you feel the way you deserve to feel. You’ve complained about it.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her breath hitching as she sat there at a loss of words.

“I’m serious,” Paige continue. “You haven’t thought about it? Even for a second? What it would be like if it were me instead of him?”

Azzi’s lips parted, and Paige caught the way her breath quickened ever so slightly. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” Azzi said, though the warning in her voice was faint at best.

Paige smirked, her confidence only growing. “Am I? Or are you just afraid of what I’m saying? What it means?” She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You want me to stop, tell me. But if you don’t, maybe it’s because part of you knows I’m right.”

Azzi’s heart was racing, her mind spinning. Paige’s words hung in the air, heavy and charged, pulling her in like a magnet.

Paige shifted closer, her voice dropping impossibly lower as she murmured, “I promise you I could make you forget he even exists, Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched again, heat crawling up her neck. Paige’s gaze was locked on hers, unwavering, and for a split second, Azzi let herself imagine it—Paige’s hands on her skin, her lips tracing lines down her neck.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the bed as Paige leaned in even closer, their faces just inches apart now. Paige’s voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing against Azzi’s lips. “You wouldn’t have to wonder if you mattered. I’d show you. Over, and over again.”

Azzi’s mind screamed at her to say something, to move, but she was frozen in place, her heart thundering in her chest.

The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with everything still unsaid by Azzi. Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk as she finally pulled back slightly, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “But hey, if you’re happy with him…” She let the words hang, leaving them unfinished, loaded with implication.

Azzi blinked, her throat dry as she whispered, “You’re out of your mind.”

Paige chuckled, not saying anything, just standing and grabbing her water bottle off the nightstand.

Azzi stared at her, her thoughts a tangled mess as Paige casually went back to her desk, acting like she hadn’t just turned Azzi’s world upside down.

…

The lively buzz of voices and clinking glasses at Ted's couldn't drown out the thoughts swirling around in Azzi’s head. They were all there in celebration of their Big East championship win, but all Azzi could focus on was Paige.

Azzi had been feeling a little off tonight, even though she tried to push the thoughts aside. Another game, another promise from Cam about being there, and once again, he hadn't shown. His absence barely gnawed at her, and she definitely wasn’t about to let it ruin her night—not when they were here celebrating.

Azzi’s gaze kept drifting to her. Paige was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, her effortless confidence on full display. Two girls stood in front of her, talking animatedly, their hands gesturing as they laughed. Paige flashed them her signature smile, nodding along to whatever they were saying, though she didn’t seem particularly invested.

Azzi knew that smile too well. It was the same one Paige gave when she was humoring someone—not because she cared, but because she knew they liked the attention and it entertained her for a little bit. The thought made Azzi’s chest tighten, though she quickly brushed it off.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned toward Nika, who had just slid into the seat next to her. “Which one do you think she’s going to take home?” Azzi asked, nodding toward Paige and the girls.

Nika followed her gaze, then snorted. “Girl neither.”

Azzi blinked, surprised. “What do you mean, neither?

Nika turned her head, raising an eyebrow. “Paige has a type and it’s definitely not them.”

Azzi frowned, laughing a little. “Paige doesn’t really have a type. She kinda just... goes with the flow.”

Nika gave her a look. “You’re joking, right? Paige 1000% has a type.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Okay, what’s her type then?”

Nika gave Azzi a pointed look, leaning in a little closer. “Think about the last girl she brought back... or the two before that.”

Azzi stopped, her mind automatically working to pull up the memories. Paige never talked much about the girls she brought back, but Azzi had seen them. The thought lingered in her mind like a puzzle, the pieces slowly clicking together.

She could picture them now—the girls who had all been... similar. The way they had looked, the way they attempted to carry themselves—it was like there was a pattern. And now that Nika had pointed it out, Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

She felt a knot form in her stomach, realizing that most of the girls Paige had been with recently looked... well, a lot like her.

Nika smirked, clearly enjoying Azzi’s reaction. “See what I mean?”

Azzi forced herself to laugh, though it sounded more nervous than amused. “So, you’re saying Paige has a type after all?”

Nika shrugged, her expression unreadable. “It’s not about type. It’s more so about what she wants.”

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked away, pretending to focus on something else. But the truth of Nika’s words lingered in her mind. Paige wasn’t just a flirty, carefree teammate. She was the one who made Azzi’s pulse race every time their eyes met. The one who made her question everything, including her feelings for Cam almost every other day.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking it—what would it be like if it were me instead of them?

Nika, still watching her, smirked knowingly. “Look, if you want my advice, stop pretending. It’s obvious. You two have chemistry. You’ve got something that the midget could never give you.”

Azzi felt her stomach tighten at the thought of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice a little too sharp, but Nika wasn’t fooled.

Nika just shook her head. “Sure you don’t.”

The next few minutes passed in silence, Azzi trying to push those thoughts away, but they kept coming back. She couldn’t help it. The more she thought about Paige, the more she realized Nika was right.

Azzi risked another glance at Paige, who was still chatting with the girls at the bar. Paige caught her eye, a teasing smile forming that made Azzi’s heart stutter. Then, as if to drive the point home, Paige winked before turning her attention back to the girls in front of her.

Azzi’s face burned, and she immediately looked away, gripping her drink tighter than necessary.

As the night wore on, Nika’s observation proved true. Not long after their conversation, Paige casually excused herself from the girls she’d been chatting with and made her way back to the team’s table. She slid into the spot next to Azzi, her presence an unspoken reassurance that made Azzi’s chest feel lighter.

The bar was louder now, filled with the boisterous laughter and slurred voices of their teammates taking full advantage of the open bar. Azzi, feeling the warmth of a few drinks in her system, leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder as she sat there silently. She didn’t think much of it—it was comfortable, and no one else seemed to notice or care.

Paige, though, seemed to notice. She tilted her head, resting it gently on top of Azzi’s. Her voice was soft, laced with curiosity and something else Azzi couldn’t quite place. “What’re you thinking about?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers idly tracing the condensation on her glass. She wasn’t sure if her response slipped out because she was tipsy, tired, or just tired of pretending. “You.”

Paige raised her eyebrows at that, letting out a short puff of air through her nose, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Me?” she echoed, her tone playful but intrigued.

Azzi’s voice was quiet but steady this time. “You.”

The air between them shifted, the background noise of the bar fading into static. Paige stayed where she was, her head still resting on Azzi’s. Her lips quirked up in the corner, but her voice was softer now, less teasing. “What about me?”

Azzi’s chest tightened, her fingers instinctively finding Paige’s hand, beginning to play with her fingers as she looked down at them. Her words were almost a whisper, like she was afraid to say them too loud. “I’m not telling you.”

Paige laughed. “Why not?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away, her thumb brushing over Paige’s knuckles. She felt Paige shift slightly, her head tilting just enough for her lips to hover near Azzi’s ear.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me?” Paige murmured, her voice carrying an edge of something that made Azzi’s stomach flip.

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip tightening on Paige’s hand. “Positive.”

Paige chuckled again. “You’re a bad liar, Azzi.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her heart pounding as she felt the heat of Paige’s breath against her skin. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the bar didn’t exist, like it was just the two of them, caught in this moment.

Azzi finally pulled back, just enough to meet Paige’s eyes. “Maybe,” she said, her voice just as soft but with a hint of defiance.

Paige smirked, her gaze dropping to Azzi’s lips for a brief second before flicking back up to her eyes. “Let me know when you’re ready to stop lying,” she said, her tone light but her eyes reflected something much heavier.

Paige stood up smoothly, her fingers brushing lightly over Azzi’s arm as she passed by. “I’ll be back,” she said casually.

Azzi watched her go, her gaze trailing Paige as she made her way back to the bar. Paige leaned against it like she owned the place, her posture effortless yet commanding, the kind of confidence that demanded attention without even trying. She had this way of carrying herself—loose, assured, magnetic. It wasn’t just the way she looked; it was the way she knew she looked, the way her presence seemed to pull focus without her having to lift a finger.

Azzi’s drink sat untouched in her hand, the cool condensation on the glass doing nothing to temper the sudden heat rushing through her. Her eyes lingered on Paige’s back, tracing the line of her shoulders down to the curve of her waist. Damn, she thought, her breath catching for reasons she didn’t want to admit.

The lyrics of the song playing overhead drifted into her consciousness, wrapping around her like the smoke hanging in the air. “Don’t tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts...” The words sank in, her mind betraying her as it painted a vivid picture of what that might mean with Paige.

It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered. Paige had always had this aura about her, a quiet intensity that felt equal parts dangerous and inviting. Azzi had caught herself thinking about it before—what it might be like to have Paige’s focus solely on her, to be on the receiving end of her. But tonight, something about the combination of liquor and the way Paige had been looking at her—smirking like she already knew every thought in Azzi’s head—made it impossible to shake.

She bit her lip, her gaze locked on the way Paige leaned forward to order another drink, her body language casual but so self-assured. Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she realized just how vivid her thoughts had become.

She’d be so fucking good in bed. The thought came unbidden but settled deep within her. Azzi closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Was it the alcohol? The fact that she hadn’t been touched in so long, hadn’t felt wanted in ways that mattered? Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was something else entirely—something about Paige that felt dangerously exciting yet safe at the same time.

Azzi’s mind filled with images she shouldn’t be entertaining—images of what it might be like to let Paige do whatever she wanted, to let her hands and lips erase everything else, to lose herself completely in whatever Paige had to offer.

Azzi shook her head, tearing her eyes away from the bar as if it would stop the thoughts swirling in her head. But even as she looked down at the table, she couldn’t shake the heat coursing through her stomach.

Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as she took a long sip, hoping the burn of the liquor would distract her. But it didn’t. Instead, her eyes betrayed her once again, lifting to find Paige just as she turned back to glance at Azzi over her shoulder.

Paige smiled softly at Azzi, her gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary before she turned back to the bartender. Azzi’s chest tightened, a mixture of frustration and longing clawing its way through her.

She exhaled slowly, willing herself to get a grip. But deep down, she knew it was too late. Paige had gotten into her head, and for the first time, Azzi wasn’t sure if she wanted her out.

…

The booth was quieter now, the buzz of the bar fading into the background as the team’s conversations grew softer. Azzi and Paige leaned against the cushioned seat, their heads tilted toward one another. The dim lighting seemed to wrap around them, isolating them in their little corner despite the crowd still lingering around the bar.

Paige shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing against Azzi’s. “So,” Paige said, her voice low and playful. “What’s running through that mysterious little head of yours?”

Azzi glanced at her, her lips curving into a smirk. “Mysterious, huh? That’s what you think of me?”

Paige’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Sure. You’re like… one of those locked diary types. Tryna be a total enigma. But, you know, if I had the key…”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smirk softening into a smile. “What would you even do with it?”

Paige tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I don’t know. Depends on what I find. Deep, dark secrets? A crush on a teammate, maybe?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she stayed leaning back against the booth. “A crush on a teammate? You sound awfully confident for someone who’s never even seen me blush.”

Paige laughed softly, the sound sending a little ripple of warmth through Azzi’s chest. “I’m calling bullshit on that one.”

Azzi shook her head, her smile lingering as she watched Paige. “You’re a little annoying, you know that?”

Paige shrugged, her expression unbothered. “Yeah, but I’m charming. Makes up for it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, but there was no hiding the way her smile grew just a little wider. Paige had this way of getting under her skin, making her feel both flustered and strangely comfortable all at once. It was maddening and addictive, and Azzi wasn’t sure which one of those things scared her more.

Paige turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Azzi with a curious look. “You know,” she said, her tone softer now, “you’ve been really quiet tonight.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the show. You seem to be entertaining enough for the both of us.”

Paige grinned at that, her eyes sparkling. “I do aim to please,” she said, leaning a little closer. “But seriously, what’s up? You’ve got that faraway look.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before exhaling softly, her gaze dropping to the table. “Just… thinking,” she said finally.

Paige tilted her head, studying her. “About what?”

Azzi looked back at her, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Paige smirked. “Not a chance.”

Azzi hesitated again, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she said, “Nika pointed something out tonight.”

Paige’s eyebrows lifted, her smirk softening into a curious smile. “This ought to be good. What did our resident truth-teller have to say?”

Azzi smirked, feeling a flicker of amusement despite herself. “She said… you have a type.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued. “Oh yeah? And what’s my type Azzi?”

Azzi shrugged, trying to keep her tone light. “At first, I didn’t think she was right. But then I thought about it.”

Paige leaned back, her arm stretching across the back of the booth as her eyes danced with curiosity. “And?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “They all look like me.”

Azzi expected Paige to laugh it off, to make some joke and move on, but instead, Paige’s smile softened, her eyes darkening as she tilted her head slightly towards Azzi a little more.

“Yeah,” Paige said, her voice low and steady. “I can see that.”

Azzi blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the honesty in Paige’s tone. Her pulse quickened as she leaned in just slightly, her voice barely audible now. “Why?”

Paige’s gaze didn’t waver, her eyes searching Azzi’s as she answered. “Because I can’t have you.”

Azzi’s breath caught, her chest tightening at the weight of those words. She wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure if she could even think straight with the way Paige was looking at her—as if she was the only person in the room. Their heads were still leaned back against the booth, but now their faces were so close, their whispers carrying the kind of intimacy that felt like it could shatter the air around them.

“How long?” Azzi asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the fragile moment between them.

Paige’s lips curved into a soft, almost wistful smile, her eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips before returning to her gaze. “A long time.”

The simplicity of the answer hit Azzi harder than she expected, the honesty in Paige’s tone wrapping around her like a tether. Her mind raced, thoughts colliding in a way that left her dizzy.

For a moment, it felt like the air between them thickened, every noise and movement around them fading into the background. They weren’t in a crowded bar anymore; it was just the two of them, locked in a bubble of their own.

Azzi’s eyes searched Paige’s as if trying to confirm what she already knew. Paige tightened her jaw, a familiar motion Azzi had come to recognize—the telltale sign that Paige was reining herself in, trying to keep control. But this time, Paige didn’t pull away.

Neither of them spoke. Their eyes flicked back and forth—Paige’s gaze dropping to Azzi’s lips, Azzi’s locked on Paige’s mouth like it was the only thing in the world she could see.

Paige exhaled slowly, her breath brushing Azzi’s lips as they both leaned in, so agonizingly slow it felt like an eternity before they were close enough to taste the tension. Azzi could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, and judging by the slight tremble in Paige’s exhale, she wasn’t the only one.

Finally, Azzi moved, closing the unbearable gap between them. Her lips met Paige’s in a tentative kiss, soft and warm, sweetened by the lingering hint of alcohol from the cocktails they’d been sipping all night.

It was messy at first—the angle awkward as they leaned against the back of the booth—but neither of them cared. The kiss quickly shifted, deepened as if they were both making up for all the time they’d spent pretending this moment wasn’t inevitable.

Paige’s hand moved instinctively, sliding up to cup Azzi’s jaw, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Azzi’s breath hitched again as Paige’s lips parted slightly, her tongue swiping gently under Azzi’s bottom lip. The unspoken question was clear, and Azzi answered immediately, her lips parting to let Paige in.

Their tongues met, the kiss turning needier. Azzi felt like she was drowning, her fingers gripping Paige’s thigh under the table to anchor herself. Paige shifted closer, her hand now tangled in Azzi’s curls as if she couldn’t stand to keep any distance between them.

Unknowingly to them, the few teammates who’d been sitting in front of them at the table exchanged wide-eyed glances before quietly walking away, sensing that whatever was happening here was private, and very much overdue.

Neither Paige nor Azzi noticed—or cared. They were too far gone, lost in the heat of the moment.

But as the kiss stretched on, neither of them showing interest in stopping any time soon, other patrons started to glance in their direction.

That’s when Nika swooped in, a balled-up napkin in her hand. She hurled it at them, hitting Paige square in the shoulder. “Go home,” Nika said, her tone dry but carrying the teasing edge of a friend who’d had enough.

Startled, Paige and Azzi finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, their lips swollen and their cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Paige didn’t even glance at Nika. Her gaze remained fixed on Azzi, a world of unspoken desire and promise swirling in her eyes.

Azzi, however, chuckled softly at Nika’s words, a hint of nervousness in her breathless laugh, but mostly amusement. “Come on,” Azzi said as she reached for Paige’s hand under the table.

Paige blinked, slightly caught off guard by Azzi’s reaction. She had half-expected her to pull away, to get awkward or retreat into herself. But there was none of that. Azzi’s calm confidence was almost intoxicating, and it left Paige momentarily speechless.

Without saying a word, Paige slid out of the booth, her hand still in Azzi’s as they weaved their way through the bar.

…

As they stepped into Paige’s room, the tension from the bar followed them. Paige, unsure of where Azzi’s head was at, chose not to make a move right away. She quietly walked over to the bed, sitting down and leaning back against her hands. Her posture was casual, but her heart was racing, her mind buzzing with everything that transpired.

Azzi, however, didn’t hesitate. The soft click of the door locking behind her sent a jolt through Paige’s body. She looked up, her lips parting slightly to say something, but the words never came. Azzi was already crossing the room.

Before Paige could process what was happening, Azzi’s hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back against the mattress with a gentle motion. Paige let her body sink into the bed as Azzi climbed on top of her, straddling her hips.

The kiss that followed was nothing short of amazing. Azzi’s lips met Paige’s in a heated, almost desperate clash, all hesitation or restraint burned away in the heat that had been building between them for so long.

Paige responded instantly, her hands sliding down Azzi’s sides before gripping her ass, squeezing hard as she pulled Azzi even closer. The action earned her a soft, breathy moan from Azzi, who deepened the kiss in response.

Their movements were messy but urgent, a mixture of tongues and teeth as they explored each other. Azzi’s hands slid up, threading through Paige’s hair, tugging slightly to tilt her head back and change the angle of their kiss. Paige groaned into her mouth, the sound sending a shiver through Azzi’s body.

The room was quiet except for the sound of their lips moving together and the occasional ragged breath they managed to catch between kisses. Every touch, every shift of their bodies was fueled by months of pent-up tension finally being released.

Azzi pulled back slightly, just enough to hover above Paige, her breath ghosting against her lips. Her dark eyes searched Paige’s, as if looking for reassurance, for confirmation that this wasn’t just the alcohol or the heat of the moment.

As if Paige could read her mind, she gave a soft smile, her hands settling on Azzi’s waist as she gently flipped them over. Now leaning over Azzi, Paige’s voice was a low murmur, soothing yet confident. “Stop overthinking it,” she said, her lips curving into that teasing smirk Azzi found so intoxicating. “I got you.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her tension melting away as her hands moved up to frame Paige’s face. Her fingers slid along Paige’s jaw, interlacing behind her neck to hold her close. She pulled Paige down for another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

Paige took her time, letting the kiss linger and deepen naturally. Their lips moved in perfect rhythm, tongues occasionally brushing, sending little jolts of electricity through them both each time. There was no urgency now, just a shared intimacy as they both got lost in the moment.

The kiss stretched on, five minutes of bliss that felt like an eternity and yet not nearly enough. Neither of them wanted to break away, but when Paige finally leaned back slightly, it wasn’t to stop. Her hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion, revealing the toned lines of her body.

Azzi’s breath hitched, and she was quick to follow, slipping her shirt off almost as if on instinct. Her hands moved to the waistband of her jeans, but before she could undo the button, Paige’s hand gently covered hers, stopping her.

“You don’t gotta rush, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice low and reassuring as her thumb stroked Azzi’s knuckles. “I got it.”

Those words sent a warmth pooling in Azzi’s chest—and lower—that she hadn’t expected. She was so used to rushing into things, to moving fast and skipping the buildup. But this...this was different. Paige wasn’t just touching her body; she was touching a part of Azzi that had been craving more than just physical connection.

Azzi let her hands fall away, her body relaxing beneath Paige as she gave a small, almost shy nod. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Paige smiled at her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Azzi’s mouth, then another along her jaw, taking her time like she promised. “Just let me take care of you,” Paige whispered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s skin as her hands began to explore.

Paige began placing open mouth kisses against Azzi’s neck making sure she drew each of them out. Every touch felt like a spark, igniting feelings in Azzi, leaving a trail of heat that made her pulse quicken. Paige’s hands we warm and gentle, as the roamed over Azzi’s body, her fingertips tracing the curves of her body, sending shivers down Azzi’s back with every brush.

Azzi’s breath came in ragged gasps, her chest starting to rise and fall quicker, a subtle tremor working through her as Paige continued moving lower. The new sensation was intoxicating for Azzi, as if Paige was slowly unraveling her, piece by piece.

Azzi’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers curling into the fabric as soft sounds escaped her lips–a breathless, needy whisper that slipped out before she could even process it. “Paige…”

The sound of her name rolling off of Azzi’s lips, sent a warmth through Paige. She pulled back slightly to look at Azzi and take her in for a second. Her brown eyes were dark with desire, her face flushed, lips slightly parted.

Paige lowered herself again as she placed soft kisses against Azzi’s chest, slipping her hand behind the girl to undo her bra and toss it to the side.

Azzi’s breath hitched as she swallowed the sounds threatening to escape her as Paige explored her chest before moving down further leaving sloppy kisses all over Azzi’s abdomen.

Azzi let out a soft, frustrated groan, her body aching from the slow build-up of desire. Paige was taking her sweet time, drawing out every kiss, every touch, and Azzi felt like she was about to explode and Paifge hadn’t even done anything yet. So she tried to move, to push Paige further down her body, but the moment her hands slipped from the sheet’s, Paige was there grabbing both of her wrist and pinning them firmly to her sides.

Azzi’s breath hitched at the sudden restraint, a jolt of heat coursing between her legs as she looked down at Paige, eyes wide with longing. Paige's gaze was dark and filled with an almost cruel amusement.

“You need to be patient,” Paige whispered, her voice low, a teasing smile forming.

Azzi’s chest tightened, and she swallowed her throat all of a sudden feeling dry. She wasn’t used to this kind of anticipation, this slow burn that made every nerve in her body feel like it was on fire. She could feel herself restraint slipping with every second, her body practically beginning for more.

“I can’t,” Azzi admitted, her voice breathless. Her hands clenched against the sheet’s under Paige’s hold and her hips shifted restlessly. She needed more. Needed Paige to ease the ache that was building. “Please…”

The word slipped from her lips, barely above a whisper.

Paige’s smile only grew, her eyes a mixture of amusement and desire for the girl under her. “Move your hands again,” she said softly, “and I’m starting over.”

Azzi’s body tensed at the words, more heat rushing between her legs as she let out a soft frustrated groan as she swallowed hard. Her heart raced, the pulse between her legs only intensifying at the threat. She wanted to beg. To pull Paige closer but she couldn’t handle more waiting so she kept her mouth shut.

Her back arched as Paige leaned down, placing an open mouth kisses to Azzi’s hip sending a shock of heath through Azzi’s body. Azzi moaned softly, her hands instinctively trying to grab at Paige, but Paige kept her pinned.

Azzi’s breath hitched again as Paige sucked a little harshly now and her body bucked, trying to push herself into Paige. Paige just smiled, her mouth hovering close to the waistband of Azzi’s pants. Azzi’s chest heaved as she struggled against the growing frustration, her voice a desperate whisper.

“Please, Paige…” Azzi’s voice cracked, barely audible, but clearly heavy with need.

Paige looked up at her through half-lidded eyes, and Azzi saw how dark her blue eyes looked, the control that she was exercising with every kiss. Paige sucked against Azzi’s v-line as she looked at her, causing Azzi to bite her lip hard as she arched into Paige again.

Paige chuckled at this. “Mmm ok I got you baby,” she murmured against Azzi’s skin. Paige undid Azzi’s pants button before pulling them down, slowly kissing down Azzi’s legs as she did it.

Azzi’s whole body trembled, a soft moan escaping her throat. She swallowed thickly, leaning her head back against the pillow closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breath. She could already feel how embarrassingly fast she was going to come undone for Paige.

As soon as Paige’s tongue swiped across Azzi’s center, she let out a breathles murmur, her body trembling at the feeling already. Her words came out in a jumble, soft and incoherent, as the heat radiating off of Paige made her lose any coherent thought.

Paige chuckled softly, her lips curling into a slight smile as she repeated the motion, this time slower, letting her tongue glide across Azzi with more pressure. Azzi’s pulse spiked and her hands instinctively gripped Paige’s hair pushing her further into her, as a soft, needy whisper spilled from her lips.

“That feels so good,” Azzi breathed, barely managing to form words.

Paige mumbled again as she continued her movements, a teasing note in her voice as she said, “I know baby. I been tryna tell you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes internally at Paige’s smugness, the need to argue rising. But before she could voice her frustration, Paige’s mouth found her sensitive spot, sucking softly and Azzi’s words caught in her throat. Her body arching involuntarily as her eyes rolled back and fluttered closed.

As Paige continued to move her tongue against Azzi, the teasing pressure of her lips and tongue driving Azzi wild. She was trembling beneath her, breathless, every inch of her skin tingling with sensation. Unable to ocntain herself, Azzi whispered her name again, the sound escaping before she could think about it.

“Fuck Paige…”

Paige didn’t stop. She only hummed softly in her response, “Hmm?”

Azzi’s body arched involuntarily at the vibration, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair as she tried to steady herself. “I’ve never fucking felt this before,” she admitted, the words showing her desperation. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could swear she heard it echoing in her ears.

Paige’s response was a soft knowing murmur against Azzi. “Mhmm…” She didn’t slow down. If anything her movements became more deliberate, more intense as Azzi’s grip on her hair tightened.

The pressure in Azzi’s stomach was building, a tension that only seemed to grow stronger with every brush of Paige’s lips against her. Unable to hold still, Azzi shifted beneath her, her hips moving to instinctively close the nonexistent space between them, to feel Paige lips more fully.

At this Paige pushed firmply against Azzi’s stomach. The pressure heightening the tension in Azzi’s core, a wave of heat sweeping through her. She squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, strangled sound escaping her throat as the intensity of it threatened to overwhelm her. She was choking on her own breath, unable to keep up with the pleasure that was flooding her senses.

Every inch of her was on fire, the tension in her stomach so tight so tight, it felt like she needed to stop. Azzi’s breath came in ragged gasps, each sound leaving her throat a little more choked, a little more desperate.

She had no control left and before she realizes what’s happening her entire back arches upward toward Paige who's still pushing down on her stomach as her tongue continues working. Azzi’s entire body is trembling as she screams out, “Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes...I’m coming Paige.”

Paige winces slightly at how hard Azzi pulls her hair as she slows her movements, letting Azzi ride out what seems to be a new feeling for her.

When she’s done, Paige slowly kisses her way up Azzi’s body.

Azzi lay back against the soft sheets, her body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Her breath came in uneven gasps as her eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing at Paige. The room seemed to hum with a quiet, lingering energy that made her chest tighten in both awe and disbelief. She had never felt anything like this before. Never had she been completely undone by someone like she had just been by Paige.

She wiped her thumb across Paige’s chin as Paige leaned down, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a slow, lingering kiss. The kiss was messy as Paige let Azzi taste everything before she pulled away.

Azzi smiled up at her still tasting the remnants of the kiss, the sweetness of her and the alcohol mixed together, and it sent a shiver of disbelief down her spine.

“I’ve never…” Azzi started, her voice hoarse as she looked up at Paige, who was now standing. Her gaze was focused, but Azzi’s eyes were still wide, her chest tightening at the thought. “I didn’t think I could… feel like that.”

"You should know by now, Azzi," Paige said, her voice low and laced with that intoxicating confidence, "I don’t do things halfway."

Azzi’s stomach fluttered at the sound of those words, the teasing yet assured tone leaving her breathless. She watched as Paige moved toward her closet, the subtle grace in her movements sending a spark of anticipation coursing through Azzi’s veins. Paige seemed to move with intention. As she stood there, just inside the closet, Azzi could see her reaching for something—a small box she’d pulled down from a shelf.

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige slowly made her way back toward the bed, unboxing what was inside. Azzi’s stomach tightened, a shiver running through her body as she caught sight of the unfamiliar object. There was something about it that made her heart race, her mind whirring with a mixture of curiosity and nervous excitement. She had no idea what to expect, but the thought of it was enough to make her pulse quicken.

Paige reached the bed, standing over Azzi, her eyes filled with that same daring glint that made Azzi's own breath catch. She didn’t say a word at first, just looked at Azzi—her gaze steady, almost searching.

"Can I keep going?" Paige asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi felt the question hit her like a wave, her pulse accelerating as she met Paige’s gaze. She didn’t even hesitate. She nodded quickly, almost too eagerly.

Paige let out a soft laugh, the sound low and almost fond, as she looked at Azzi’s reaction.

Paige takes off the rest of her clothes, adjusting the harness against herself methodically as Azzi watches, never breaking her eyes away from Paige.

Paige settled onto the bed, hovering above Azzi, her body close but not quite touching, the tension between them thick. Azzi’s heart was hammering in her chest as she watched Paige, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. For a moment, everything seemed to pause—the room, the world outside, and even the way Paige was looking at her. Paige’s eyes were dark with desire, but there was something else there too, something gentle, almost questioning, as if she was waiting for Azzi to decide where this would go.

But Azzi didn’t want to wait anymore.

Before Paige could make another move, Azzi surprised her, gently pushing her back to sit against the headboard. The action was smooth, calculated, and surprisingly assertive for Azzi, who had always been the more reserved one between them. The boldness of it made Paige's pulse race, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she looked at Azzi, her brow furrowing, a subtle question hanging in the air.

“Are you sure?” Paige’s voice was soft, laced with concern, but her eyes were full of something else—something that made Azzi’s stomach flip.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She gave a slow nod, her gaze never leaving Paige’s. Her hand reached out, pulling Paige closer, guiding her into a kiss that was both tender and urgent. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that conveyed everything Azzi had been feeling. As their lips met, Azzi could feel the heat of Paige's body so close to hers, their breaths mingling in the soft air between them.

Azzi’s hips began to move against the strap, a slow grind that had Paige’s breath catching in her throat as she listened to Azzi’s breathing pick up again.

Paige pulled back, her lips barely brushing against Azzi’s as she gazed into her eyes, searching for something.

“Are you sure?” Paige’s voice was hushed, almost a whisper, as she placed a hand on Azzi’s hip, steadying her gently. The question wasn’t one of doubt—Paige knew Azzi could make her own decisions. It was a question wrapped in care, a need for reassurance in the midst of the raw energy between them.

Azzi blinked, her heart racing, her breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. All she felt was certainty—a certainty that she wanted this, wanted her, and nothing else mattered. With a soft laugh, one that held a trace of disbelief and excitement, Azzi leaned forward, pressing her lips to Paige’s in a quick, teasing kiss.

“Yes, baby,” she murmured, her words almost playful but filled with undeniable sincerity. “I’m sure.”

Paige smiles softly at Azzi as she adjusts the strap, the tip of it pressing against Azzi who bites her lip at the feeling.

Azzi lowers herself further down, Paige’s hand steady on her hips as she eases her into it slowly.

Paige's voice dropped to a low whisper as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Azzi’s ear as she kissed her neck a few times. "Can you take all of it, baby?" she asked, the words laced with a gentleness but a teasing edge.

At Paige's words, Azzi's breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly as she nodded, her response breathy and full of anticipation.

With this confirmation Paige pulls Azzi down further making a loud gasp escape her lips as her eyes roll back. Paige slightly groans as it presses against her.

After adjusting, Azzi slowly starts circling her hips, her hands interlocking with Paige’s that were holding her waist as she looks down at the blonde who’s watching her in admiration. Azzi can’t help but moan as she moves against it, feeling it in her stomach.

“Oh fuck,” Azzi whispers, her eyes still shut in ecstasy as she now braces herself with her hands on Paige’s shoulders. Paige is leaning against the headboard watching Azzi with low eyes, breathy sounds escaping her as every movement Azzi makes presses against her harder.

Paige licks her lips looking up at Azzi whispering “You look so good riding it baby.”

Azzi chuckled softly at Paige’s words, a playful, almost teasing sound leaving her lips as she brushed her hair to one side, her eyes never leaving Paige as she did.

Paige groans at the sight using her hands to move Azzi further up the strap before bringing her back down a couple of times.

Azzi gasps at this, “Fuck Paige.”

“I know…I feel it too baby,” Paige whispers her voice hoarse as she feels herself getting closer.

The room was heavy with the sound of their breath as they lost themselves in the moment for a few minutes. Never breaking eye contact as they savored the moment.

But the air started to fill with a thick desire as Azzi’s movements quickened, her hips pressing against Paige in a rhythm that made both of them moan in each other's mouths. But then, breaking through the haze of their passion, the sound of Azzi’s phone buzzing on the dresser cut through the silence, the ringtone sharp and jarring.

At first, neither of them acknowledged it, too wrapped up in one another, but then it buzzed again and again. Paige glanced over at the screen, catching the name Cam flashing brightly across it. She tensed for a moment, wondering if Azzi would pull away to answer, but instead, Azzi didn’t skip a beat. Her movements didn’t falter as she kept her steady rhythm, eyes still locked with Paige’s, filled with a focused intensity that made Paige’s heart race.

With a low, breathy laugh, Azzi reached over, her hand brushing against the dresser a few times until her fingers wrapped around the phone. She didn’t hesitate for a second, holding down the power button with a steady hand before swiping her finger across the screen to turn it off completely. The phone fell back onto the dresser with a soft thud, and Azzi didn’t miss a beat, her body leaning into Paige again, pushing her hips against Paige’s with a renewed urgency, as if the phone had never been there at all.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, a low, amused sound escaping her.

Azzi ka basically bouncing against Paige now, gripping her shoulders for dear life as she crys out “Oh fuck..”

Paige is struggling to not come undone before Azzi finishes, her head laid back against the headboard, her eyes low as she watches Azzi on top of her. Azzi notices this so she leans back to give Paige a better view resting her hands on the mattress as she continues moving it in and out of her.

Paige whimpers out at she takes in the sight, “Fuck I can feel everything Az, you feel so good…”

Azzi is gasping now as their eyes lock on one another neither one of them look away as they get lost in the feeling.

Paige adjusts herself slightly so she’s hitting Azzi at a new angle that makes her gasp loudly mumbling, “Mhm you feel so good baby.”

“You like how I feel?” Paige asks, her voice barely containing the whine she tried to hold in.

Azzi nods quickly as she quickens the pace muttering out “I fucking love how you feel”

As Paige threw her head back, a soft gasp escaping her lips, Azzi looked down at her with a look of intense focus, her breath shallow as she searched Paige's expression. "You close?" she asked, her voice a low, almost teasing whisper.

Paige, eyes heavy with desire, could only nod in response, her breath catching in her throat as she gazed up at Azzi through half-lidded eyes. Her body was already trembling with the buildup, every nerve alight from the touch.

Azzi’s lips curled into a faint smirk, her gaze flickering from Paige’s eyes to her lips before she leaned down and pressed herself further into her, pulling her into a kiss. The kiss was deep and consuming, their bodies tightening against one another as Azzi pulled Paige closer.

The kiss didn’t last long Paige pulling back mumbling, “Fuck just like that Az…ride it just like that.”

At Paige’s praise, something snapped inside Azzi–a sudden rush of need flooding her system. Without warning, she pushed down harder, the feeling of Paige beneath her driving her wild. Her legs began to tremble, every muscle taut. Desperate sounds–moans, gasps–tumbled from her lips, raw and completely untamed

“Oh my god,” Azzi moaned, the words barely audible as they’re choked out through her shallow breaths. The pressure in her stomach snapped as she came undone all over Paige’s legs.

Paige immediately groaned in response, her grip on Azzi tightening as she pulled her deeper into her before she was coming undone too, muttering out Azzi’s name as she did so.

The kiss that followed was anything but gentle. It was messy and uncoordinated as they melted into one another desperately. Paige’s mouth was rough against Azzi’ as their tongues tangled with one another. Azzi’s body moved faster, legs shaking still as they both came undone again in less than a few seconds.

Azzi slumped against Paige, her forehead resting against Paige’s shoulder as she caught her breath, their slick bodies tangled together. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the soft chuckles that escaped both of them, the aftermath of what had just unfolded between them settling in.

Feeling extremely sensitive, Azzi eased herself off of the toy before settling back on Paige’s lap in a more comfortable position. Her arms loosely wrapped around Paige’s neck as she let out a breathless laugh, her voice still tinged with disbelief. “Oh my god,” she said, laughing again, the weight of the moment sinking in.

Paige tilted her head back against the headboard, her own laugh low and satisfied. “Told you,” she murmured, a teasing grin spreading across her face as she glanced at Azzi through hooded eyes.

Azzi let out a small, exasperated laugh, weakly pushing Paige’s shoulder, though it lacked any real force. “Shut up,” she muttered, but her smile gave her away. Her energy was spent, her limbs felt like jelly, and all she could do was lean against Paige, shaking her head slightly as the last remnants of laughter faded between them. Paige’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they sat there, wrapped in the comfortable silence of their shared intimacy.

The two of them just sat there, holding onto one another, the room quiet and filled with a warm, lingering intimacy.

Eventually, Azzi sighed softly, shifting to climb off Paige’s lap completely, her legs shaky but steady enough to settle beside her. Paige gave her a small smirk as she undid the harness, tossing it casually onto the floor before standing and disappearing into the bathroom.

Azzi watched her go, her body still humming from everything. When Paige returned, she held a towel in her hand, the edges slightly damp from warm water. Without saying a word, she knelt down in front of Azzi, her expression soft but focused.

Paige gently lifted one of Azzi’s legs, holding her ankle as she began to wipe the towel along her skin, carefully. The warmth of the cloth combined with Paige’s touch sent a shiver through Azzi. She blinked, her gaze locking on Paige as her chest swelled with something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Azzi stared down at her, her eyes wide and filled with awe. “You don’t have to—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige glanced up at her, a soft smile curving her lips as she shook her head. “Yes I do,” she said simply, her voice low.

The tenderness in Paige’s actions, the quiet care she was showing, made Azzi’s heart thrum in her chest. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Paige’s cheek as she watched her, completely enamored by the girl in front of her. Paige didn’t look up again, too focused on making sure Azzi was comfortable and taken care of, but the slight curve of her lips gave her away.

Once Paige finished, she set the towel aside and climbed back onto the bed. She leaned back against the pillows, extending an arm toward Azzi in invitation. Azzi didn’t hesitate, curling into Paige’s side, her head resting on her chest as she let out a contented sigh.

Paige tugged the blanket over both of them, the soft fabric cocooning their still-warm bodies. The room settled into a peaceful quiet, save for the sound of their steady breaths syncing together.

Azzi's hand absentmindedly traced light patterns along Paige’s stomach, her mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep but laced with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, pressing her lips to the top of Azzi’s head. “And you’re trouble,” she replied.

Azzi let out a small laugh but didn’t respond, her breathing already slowing as sleep began to claim her. Paige’s hand rested on Azzi’s back, her thumb gently moving in soothing circles.

As they drifted off, the weight of the night melted away, leaving nothing but the comfort of each other’s presence

…

The next morning, Paige was already up when Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. The faint smell of coffee and something warm and buttery filled the air, coaxing her out of sleep. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft morning light streaming through the curtains, and when she turned her head, she found Paige standing at the side of the bed with a tray of food in her hands, her expression warm and slightly smug.

“Good morning,” Paige said. “Figured I owed you breakfast after last night.”

Azzi couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Her chest swelled with affection as she took in the sight of Paige, still a little rumpled from sleep, but thoughtful as ever. She reached out, grabbing Paige by the wrist and tugging her down into a soft kiss. “You’re making it impossible not to adore you already,” Azzi murmured against her lips.

Paige chuckled as she pulled back, setting the tray on the bed. “Careful. You’re gonna give me a big head.”

Azzi laughed softly, sitting up and stretching before settling in beside Paige to eat.

When they finished, Azzi leaned over to grab her phone from the nightstand. She hesitated for a moment before turning it on, the screen immediately lighting up with a flood of notifications. Texts, missed calls, social media alerts—it was all there.

Azzi’s brows furrowed, but she didn’t bother looking at most of them. Instead, she tapped on Cam’s name, typing out a quick message: Can you meet me in my room?

The reply came back almost instantly, which was rare: Yeah, of course.

Azzi stared at the screen for a moment, then set the phone down, letting out a quiet sigh. Paige, who had been watching her from the corner of her eye, reached out to place a reassuring hand on Azzi’s thigh. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said with a small smile, though her tone was thoughtful. “Just need to talk to Cam.”

Paige nodded, leaning back on her hands. “You want me to stick around or go with you?”

Azzi glanced at her, the warmth in her gaze unmistakable. “You can come with me,” she said softly. “If you want.”

Paige smiled, leaning over to kiss Azzi on the temple. “I got you.”

Azzi and Paige made their way to Azzi’s room. They currently sat side by side on the couch, Paige leaning back casually, her arm draped along the top, while Azzi scrolled on her phone, music playing in the background.

When Cam arrived, he barely hesitated before stepping inside. His eyes darted between the two of them, and he immediately moved toward Azzi, arms outstretched to pull her into a hug. But Azzi raised her hand, stopping him mid-step.

“We need to talk,” she said simply.

Cam froze, his brow furrowing. “Talk about what?” he asked, though there was an edge to his voice now.

Azzi gestured toward the door to her room. “In there.”

Cam glanced at Paige, who was still seated on the couch, watching silently, her expression unreadable. He huffed but followed Azzi into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

The moment it clicked shut, Cam turned on her. “Did you turn off your phone last night?” His voice was sharp, his tone teetering on aggressive.

Azzi didn’t flinch as she answered simply, “Yes. But we need to talk.”

Her calmness seemed to irritate him further. “Clearly, we need to fucking talk if you’re turning off your phone when I’m calling you,” he snapped. “I was trying to tell you I couldn’t make it to the party—”

Azzi let out a soft chuckle, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t there.”

“What?” Cam asked, his confusion mixing with frustration. “What were you doing that you turned off your phone when I called, then?”

Azzi paused, considering her next words carefully. She could feel the weight of the moment, but her decision had already been made. Meeting his gaze directly, she said it plainly: “I was fucking Paige.”

Cam’s entire body stiffened, his jaw clenching as her words registered. “What the fuck did you just say?” he spat.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, almost defiant smile at finally being able to do this. So this time, she repeated herself slowly, enunciating every word as if daring him to challenge her.

“I. Was. Fucking. Paige.”

Cam’s face twisted in confusion, anger, and disbelief as the weight of Azzi’s words hung heavy in the air. “Azzi, what do you mean?” he asked, his voice faltering slightly as if he hoped she might backtrack or offer a different explanation.

Azzi let out a sharp laugh, almost incredulous. “It means exactly what I’m saying, Cam.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, her patience clearly waning with the boy she wanted nothing to do with anymore. “If you really want me to get specific, I can, but I really don’t think you want that.”

Cam shook his head rapidly, as if trying to erase her words from existence. “You can’t be friends with her anymore,” he said firmly, his tone demanding in a way that made Azzi pause.

And then she laughed. Full-on, head-tilted-back laughter, the kind that made it clear she wasn’t even trying to take him seriously. “Oh my god,” she said, catching her breath and looking at him with pure disbelief. “You’re actually stupid.”

Before he could respond, Azzi’s expression hardened. “You know what? Forget it. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

Cam’s eyes widened, his face reddening as he scrambled to regain the upper hand. “You’re breaking up with me?” he repeated, incredulous. “Well, good, because I cheated on you.”

Azzi’s brows shot up, and for a moment, she just stared at him. Then, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk tugging at her lips, she said dryly, “Good for you, Cameron. I’m sure those three minutes were absolutely unforgettable for you.”

The words hit like a slap, and Cam’s face turned a deep shade of red, his embarrassment morphing into anger. Without thinking, he lashed out, smacking a framed picture of him and Azzi off her desk. The glass shattered as it hit the floor, the sound echoing in the room.

Azzi didn’t flinch, her expression was calm and unbothered. She knew he wasn’t going to actually do anything to hurt her. She just stood there, arms crossed, watching him like he was a child throwing a tantrum.

But the crash brought Paige into the room almost instantly. She appeared in the doorway, her sharp eyes darting from the broken frame on the floor to Cam’s flushed, angry face. Without hesitation, Paige stepped forward, her tall frame towering over Cam.

Cam turned on her, getting right in her face. The height difference was laughable—he had to tilt his head up just to meet her eyes. “What are you gonna do, huh?” he spat, his voice shaking with misplaced bravado.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just stared down at him, her expression unreadable. It was the kind of look that didn’t need words—calm, but with an unspoken warning behind it.

Azzi, sensing the tension rise, quickly stepped forward and grabbed Paige’s arm. “It’s fine,” she murmured, her voice soft but firm, not wanting things to escalate. She tugged gently, urging Paige to step back.

Cam’s eyes flicked to Azzi’s hand on Paige’s arm, and his jaw tightened. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before shoving past Paige and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the crunch of glass under Azzi’s foot as she moved to pick up the broken frame. Paige bent down to help, her gaze softening as she looked at Azzi. “You okay?”

Azzi nodded, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said lightly, glancing at the door Cam had just slammed shut. “I think he took that about as well as expected.”

Paige chuckled, leaning back and shaking her head, amused but undeniably smug. “Guess I did keep my promise,” she murmured, reaching for Azzi’s hand and pulling her closer.

Azzi let out a light laugh, rolling her eyes as she shifted closer, their knees touching now. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she teased, though the softness in her gaze betrayed her words.

Paige ignored the playful jab, her hand coming up to cradle Azzi’s cheek. She stared into Azzi’s eyes for a moment, the weight of everything between them settling into something unshakable.

“How was it last night though?” Paige asked, her tone low and laced with that confidence Azzi could never resist.

Azzi’s smile widened, but she refused to indulge her too much. “You already know how it was,” she replied, her voice equally soft and teasing. “It was worth breaking up with him for.”

Paige laughed again, the sound warm and full of life. She didn’t say anything else, letting her actions speak louder than words. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s in a kiss that held every promise she had ever made.

In the background, the lyrics of What You Heard played softly from Azzi’s speaker, the ending verse weaving through the air like it was written for this moment:

"I try my best, you know I did / I try to give you what you want / But I just couldn’t handle it..."

Azzi’s fingers threaded through Paige’s hair as they broke apart, her forehead resting against Paige’s. “You’re much better,” Azzi whispered, the words carrying all the emotions she couldn’t quite put into sentences.

Paige smiled against her lips, pulling her even closer. “Good,” she said simply, her voice full of quiet assurance.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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animementrash · 5 months ago

Text

Levi secretly loves cuddling you. Whenever you come to his office with those sleepy eyes and pouty lips asking if he’s “too busy” he knows it’s your bedtime and you’re trying to find a way to ask him to come along and lay in bed with you. He always tries to not give in at the first try, in part because he’s ashamed about how willingly he is to drop everything and go cuddle with you but also because he doesn’t want you to find out how much power you have over him; So, whenever you go ask him to cuddle for a bit it usually goes like this:

It’s well past midnight, the gentle flicker of the candle next to him and the sound of his pen gliding across the paper is the only thing that he can hear, that’s of course until he hears the now so familiar steps coming towards his door.

“Come in.” He speaks without even looking up his papers, he knows it’s you, it would be foolish of him to mistake those steps with anyone else’s.

“Hey. You’re still working?” You speak softly once you close the door behind you. “Ah, there it is… finally.” Thinks Levi to himself and looks up to face you; a wave of tenderness washes over him whenever he sees you, you make him so weak, so damn vulnerable.

“Yeah. Erwin wants me to sign all these papers by tomorrow morning. The asshole thinks I’m a printer or something…” He replies, his voice mocking his usual annoyed tone but it’s somehow softer and with less bite whenever he speaks to you.

“Why? Need help with something?” He knows damn well why you’re there, in fact, he was hoping you’d come over and try to take him away from this mountain of documents before he lost his mind. All he was thinking about now was being wrapped in those soft bedcovers you got from one of your trips to Stohess, his arms wrapped tightly around you and your soft hair tickling his nose as he nuzzled into your neck.

“No, well. I was just thinking that it’d be nice if you came to sleep with me tonight… but I see you’re very busy so…” He sighed heavily, not because he was annoyed by your request but because he couldn’t fathom the idea that you’d believe those stupid papers would be more important to him than you.

“Are you sleeping already?” He asked trying to sound surprised. “I thought you had more paperwork than me…” A chuckle left his lips as he said this and you spoke back almost immediately.

“Yeah, I do but, it’s very late already and that paperwork isn’t due until Friday so…” Your nervous response melted his heart, he was aching to hold you and feel your warmth.

“Oh, I see…” His hand moved quickly across multiple documents, signing stuff he didn’t even bother to read, he just wanted to finish as many as possible before the inevitable outcome of this conversation. “Well, it would be unfair that only you could drop your work like that, wouldn’t it?” His eyes locked with yours as he spoke, a hint of tease on them.

Before you could reply he was already standing up from his chair, his stiff muscles stretching after all those hours spent signing irrelevant papers.

“You still got those fancy night clothes you got for me last month, right?”

“Your pajamas? Yes, I have them in my room. You can change there” You replied happily and grinned at him, his heart did a backflip and he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“Good, then let’s go. I feel like crap” After blowing out the candle on his desk he walked out of the office with you and locked the door, he was finally going to his happy place.

“Is your body sore? Maybe I could give you a massage before we sleep” You mentioned casually and he felt as if Ymir herself appeared in front of him and blessed him. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” As much as he tried to hide the happiness in his voice, it was obvious how much he loved you and how excited he was to spend another night next to you. And maybe, just maybe, his attempts to not give in “so easily” were a total failure.

#levi ackerman #levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot x reader

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zayneslady · 1 year ago

Note

hey!! loved that angst fic you wrote xx can i request the boys reaction to when the reader/mc and them are in an argument, and they accidentally said something extremely hurtful and it made reader cry. make the boys regret it so much pls hehe😼 thank you 💗

warnings: angst, open ending again hehe and again, reader is not MC

characters: Zayn, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)

a/n: my first request *-* thank you so much! This exact trope is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it! Get your tissues ready! Also thank you to everyone's support in my first post! I'm so happy! ❤️

Classification: scenarios

ZAYNE ❄️

You didn't want to admit it, but you were sick. During the day you felt a little sore in your throat and your nose was stuffy. Arriving at Zayne's house after work, it was more than obvious that you had a fever. Your face was red and the chills running through your body made you shiver.

There was nothing else to do, you would miss work tomorrow to fully recover. Furthermore, with the care of your loving doctor, you knew you'd be fine in no time. So you quickly took a shower and after drying your hair, you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch with a cold patch on your forehead, waiting for Zayne patiently.

To your surprise, he arrived at a normal time and your heart vibrated with joy when you saw him enter. He had his head low as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door behind him.

"Zayne! Welcome back! How was your day?” You greeted him as he shrugged his coat off. “Guess what," you said, giggling softly because it was quite obvious by your funny voice that you were sick. "I got a little sick after yesterday's ra-

You jumped a little when Zayne suddenly groaned, whipping his head up to look at you. “Oh my Lord,” he said, annoyed. “Can't you see I'm fucking tired? You do not know when you shut your damned mouth? I can't stand you! Why are you so clingy?”

Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red. Your mind went blank and you didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Zayne's face changed from complete anger to guilt. He looked at you from the door as if he didn't know what had happened just now. He didn't recognize himself. How did he dare to talk to you like that when you-

He gasped softly, “you're sick.”

You tried to clean your tears with your hands as you got up from the couch. Zayne made an attempt to come close to you, but you quickly ran to the bedroom only to come back after a couple of minutes with your shoes and coat on.

“Excuse me,” you said, as you approached the door.

“What? Where are you going like this? You need to rest.”

You nodded, trying to keep some distance from him. “I know. I'll rest back home. So please move.”

“Stay here. I'll take care of you,” he grabbed your hand and more tears fell down. How could he talk so sweetly right now after what he said.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away and pushing him aside so you could open the door. “I don't need you, Zayne. Not when you can't stand me.”

“I was wrong, please.”

“I was wrong too. Goodbye, Zayne.”

XAVIER ⭐

��My poor Xavier,” you mumbled, gently cleaning a wound in Xavier's side. You winced when he did and your heart broke. You knew perfectly well that this could happen because of his line of work, but you felt terrible every time he came home hurt. “Oh, Xav, is it too painful?” You asked as you started to bandage him.

He shook his head, breathing heavily and resting his head against the pillow on his bed. “It could be worse. Thank you for helping out.”

“No need to thank me,” you said, smiling at him as you placed a tender and loving hand over his now bandaged wound. “I wish you didn't have to do this. It's so dangerous.”

Your words had no poison. You clearly didn't want Xavier to suffer in any way. Why couldn't he have a regular, safe job? Maybe he's just strong because he has to protect everyone. You said those words from the bottom of your warm heart, so you were more than surprised to hear Xavier's response:

“What? Are you saying I'm weak?” He spat and you blinked.

“N-No! I'm just saying that I wish you had another job because-

“Is that so? So you rather have a bunch of wanderers attacking innocent people? Just because you don't want me to get hurt?”

“It's- It's not like that! I never said that. I just get worried sick for you and-

“Maybe I should really stop, huh? Just turn a blind eye to everything that's happening like egoist people like you di.”

He just kept vomiting out words, one harsher than the last. Every time you tried to speak and fix this misunderstanding, his irrational words drowned out your voice and it made something heavy and nauseating settle in your stomach. This was not going to end well in any way.

“Xavier, my love, please listen to me. I do not-

“Maybe one day a wanderer will actually kill you. And believe me, I won't even bat an eye at you,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his head away from you.

Your eyes had never filled with tears as quickly as that moment. Your body began to shake with suppressed sobs as you felt heat and disappointment throughout your body. Did Xavier just... wish for your death? And in the hands of a creature as horrible as a wanderer?

“Oh no,” he suddenly said and you flinched when you felt his touch against your cheek. “I am so, so sorry.” You cried a little harder before getting up from his bed. “W-Wait, my star. Please, I'm sorry.”

No words came out. You simply grabbed your bag and left the room.

He called your name and then groaned in pain as he tried to move. “Pl-please, come back! Where-

You couldn't hear more of his words as you closed the door of his apartment. Did this mean the end? You truly thought so.

Rafayel 🐠

"Ah, welcome back, Rafayel!" The amount of excitement that rushed through your body whenever your eyes landed on him was almost overwhelming. It wasn't that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but a second without him felt like a century.

His eyes, usually warm and sparkling, looked cold and even angry at seeing you in his house. "Hello," he said dryly as he closed the door behind him. You frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hmm, nothing much. I just wanted to visit you. Is that alright?"

He sighed, placing a paper bag on the table. "Yeah, sure. I gave you a key after all."

You cleared your throat, nodding awkwardly. "Did... you have a good day?"

He sighed again and shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. "I didn't. It was terrible for the very first moment I opened my eyes. You see," he started and you nodded, listening carefully. "I overslept so I lost precious time for my painting. Then I didn't have time to eat so I didn't eat anything but a piece of bread."

You immediately got up to make dinner for him, maybe after eating he'd feel better?

"And the worst thing was," he said, collapsing onto his couch. "I couldn't find my emerald green paint so I had to go all the way to the art store and get a new one! Ugh!"

You blinked, frowning a little. "Your emerald green?"

"That's what I said."

"Hmm, I'm very sure I put it in all of your greens?" You left the ingredients aside as you walked to the paints. "Here it is."

He got up and looked at you with an astonished expression. Confusion quickly turned into anger and he was yelling at you in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You saw me last night!" You explained, carefully leaving the paint back in place. "You said you wanted your paints to be more organized and I asked you if I could help you out! You even told me you liked how I organized it by colors!"

Rafayel let out a frustrated sigh as a hand carded through his hair. "I can't believe I just lost all of that precious time because of your stupid mistake!"

"Excuse me?"

"Every time you try to help, you just mess things up! Can't you keep your little hands to yourself for once? I was just stupid for letting you help me out! You are way too much, I can't stand you sometimes.”

You were stunned. He had never said anything like that about you, you couldn't even remember other times when you wanted to help him and you ruined it. Besides, it wasn't your fault. The green paint was there all along and he just hadn't taken the time to look for it properly.

You knew it wasn't your fault, but his harsh words and the anger and hatred in his eyes were too much. Tears quickly filled your eyes and began to fall down your reddened cheeks.

Rafayel realized his mistake a bit too late. Letting out a gasp as he watched the first tear fall, he hurriedly approached you, but you backed away, putting space between the two of you. He couldn't say anything, too surprised by his own words.

What was just a moment seemed like minutes, endless hours with deafening silence. Only your sobs echoed around the entire house, until your voice, small and trembling, made him jump.

“I won't touch your stuff again, Rafayel,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes.

“N-No, I didn't mean-

You nod, “if you don't mind, I'll sleep in your guest room. Goodnight, Rafayel.”

Deep inside you so desperately wanted him to stop you, but he watched you disappear into the hall and never called you back.

You knew it was going to be a very cold night.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace Rafayel #love and deepspace scenarios #zaynslady #*scenarios

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brbsoulnomming · 2 months ago

Text

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 10

-----

The town is a wreck, but there's still space for them at the hospital.

Nancy recognizes a few of the doctors - ones who know about the Upside Down - and they're all whisked away into two private rooms. One for Eddie, and one for Max.

Steve is stuck with Eddie. He hates thinking of it like that, because he wants to be with Eddie, but he wants to be with Max, too. He wants to prowl back and forth between them, like his presence will make any difference.

But Eddie's heart is still in his chest, and while the doctor had praised his quick thinking in helping his friend, it's too risky to have Eddie's heart far away from his body while he's healing.

So Steve's in the chair next to his bed, hooked up to the heart monitor and listening to the faint but steady sound of Eddie's heart as he feels it beat in his own chest.

Dustin and Robin go back and forth, one of them always with him and the other giving updates when they come to switch out.

It's Dustin in the chair next to his now, and he feels the echo of his own heart next to Dustin's, knows the kid must be feeling what he is - and probably a little bit of Eddie's, too.

Three hearts, all entwined. Robin could make something poetic from that, he thinks.

All he can do is let Dustin pillow his head on his shoulder, press his hand to his own chest and think come back to us.

Eddie's hand twitches.

Steve jolts up, reaching for it automatically.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, even though his eyes are closed and his expression hasn't changed. “Dustin?”

Dustin makes some kind of strangled noise, fumbling for Eddie's other hand. “Can he feel us?”

“I've got his heart, and you've got mine, so yeah, he has to, right?” Steve asks, aware he sounds a little desperate and not really caring.

“Come on, Eddie,” Dustin pleads. “You have to wake up, okay?”

Eddie wakes up.

—

“I should have died in there.”

Steve feels his jaw tense. “No, you shouldn't have.”

“No, I meant - doc says I would have died, if you hadn't taken my heart,” Eddie says.

Oh.

“I know,” Steve admits. “That's why I asked for it.”

Eddie exhales, long and slow. “Where'd you learn that?”

“Eighth grade science,” Steve replies, shooting a little grin at him.

Eddie gives a surprised little laugh. “Seriously?”

“Eh, kind of.” Steve considers for a moment. He's never talked about this with anyone, but - “My parents used to lock their hearts in a safe in my dad's study at night. When I was little, and I got upset at them leaving, they told me they put their hearts in there when they went on trips, too, and I had to stay behind to watch over them.”

Eddie looks at him, soft and tender. Steve'd think it was pity, if it wasn't for Eddie's heart in his chest. It's just sad, and a little angry.

“I told Mr. Clarke about that, and he said it was hogshit.”

Eddie snorts. “Mr. Clarke said hogshit?”

“Who's telling this story?” Steve retorts, then laughs when Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key.

“It was hogshit,” Steve continues. “But then he told us that people could survive potentially fatal injuries with heart exchanges. Then, after Starcourt…”

He trails off, not sure how to say it.

“Robin told me a little,” Eddie admits. “That it was the Russians and the Upside Down, and you let yourself get caught to cover for Dustin and Erica. That you tried to draw attention away from her.”

Oh.

That makes him sound more heroic than the moment felt, but at least it also makes this easier.

“The Russian spies, they had this thing that could open your chest. They didn't believe I was telling the truth, so they took my heart out.”

Eddie reaches out to take his hand, squeezing it tight. There's a faint trickle of horror and guilt and affection, and he knows that Eddie's put it together with the changes in his heart.

“I healed a lot faster because we were doing heart exchanges,” he finishes. “So I figured it'd keep you safe.”

Eddie's grip on his hand tightens. “I really am sorry,” he mutters. “About last summer. After - after that, you needed a friend, and I just left.”

Steve licks his lips, considering his response for a moment, before he goes with honesty. “I had friends. I had Robin and the kids, and they were enough. I didn't really need anything else. But - I wanted you.”

Eddie looks at him, and Steve can feel - hesitation, uncertainty, does he really want me?

“Eddie,” Steve says, slow and thoughtful. “I don't want you because I'm lonely, or I have no one else. Maybe there was a part of that when it first started, but - I'm okay, I'm happy. I want you because of you, not just because I want anyone.”

Shock filters through Eddie so hard that Steve feels it like an almost physical blow.

His heart aches.

He doesn't have to ask if that's something that Eddie hasn't been told before - he knows it already.

“I'm not letting you go,” Steve tells him, only because Eddie's heart is still beating in his chest and he's confident it will be well received. “Not this time.”

“I can live with that,” Eddie says, only a little shaky.

—

Dustin takes a turn swapping hearts with Eddie, and Steve heads immediately for Max's room.

Lucas is there, sitting by her bed and holding her hand.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. “How's she doing?”

“Same,” Lucas says flatly. “But she's in there, I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks.

“We swapped before - before. Just in case. To give her another tether to the real world.”

Shit, that was a great idea. It gives him more hope, and he sags a little in his chair.

“Jesus, you kids are smart,” Steve says, impressed.

Lucas looks at him funny. “We learned that from you, Steve.”

He doesn't really think that's true, considering he learned it from them just as much, but he lets it be, just gripping the back of Lucas's neck and giving him a little squeeze.

Lucas unwinds, just a little bit, and Steve gets a better look at him - notices his swollen eye, his puffy jaw, and feels a cold surge of rage.

He waits for a moment to let the worst of it pass, then asks, “Swap?”

Lucas looks over at him, clearly hesitant.

“The three of us are kind of banged up,” Steve says. “Figure it can't hurt to have more heart power at work here.”

Lucas snorts. “Heart power?”

“Heart power,” Steve confirms, radiating as much confidence as possible.

He's not sure if it works, but Lucas does open his chest up and carefully pull out Max's heart. Steve's extra gentle as he swaps them, tucking her heart into his chest.

It's immediate, what Lucas was talking about. There's only the faintest sense of Max, and an equally faint sense of a fear and guilt and love that he recognizes as Lucas - the residual of what Max is feeling from him, he guesses. Even stranger is an echo he can feel of his own emotions - from him to Lucas to Max and back to him again, apparently.

“Huh,” he says, at the same time Lucas goes, “Woah.”

They sit there, together, and Steve must fall asleep at some point because the next thing he knows, there's the shifting of a chair as Lucas jumps up. Steve startles, only to see El and Will and Mike come flooding in. They sweep Lucas into a hug, and Steve watches them hold on, clinging and desperate.

Eventually, they peel apart, and El goes to Max's side, taking her hand. Her eyes close for a long while, then open again, looking sad.

“I can't reach her,” she whispers. “Not even with my powers back.”

“She's there, though, right? I can still feel her,” Lucas says.

El's brow furrows.

“Max and Lucas swapped before this happened,” Steve explains. “To keep her tethered here, so Vecna couldn't take her.”

Mike frowns. “Vecna?”

“One,” El says, which - okay, yeah, clearly there's a story there, but not the time. She holds her hands out to Lucas. “May I swap?”

Lucas looks over at Steve, and he takes Max's heart out and offers it to her.

“We figured the more helping, the better,” Lucas says.

El exchanges her heart for Max's, looking thoughtful. It's an even bigger rush, with El in the mix, and - even though Max's heart isn't in his chest anymore, he can feel the echo of her even more clearly.

Lucas sucks in a breath. “It's working,” he says. “She's stronger.”

“The more, the better,” El says thoughtfully.

“Eddie woke up from me and him and Dustin sharing,” Steve says, the realization coming over him. “I mean, it wasn't a real circle, but he was just regularly unconscious, not creepy wizard unconscious.”

El looks at Mike, who immediately turns on his heel and leaves. He comes back a few minutes later, with Dustin and Robin and Erica.

“We made Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle stay with Eddie,” Mike announces.

“Uh, yeah, do you want to tell us why?” Dustin asks.

El's eyes flash. “We're going to get Max back.”

Hearts change hands quicker than Steve can keep track of, but in the end, no one has their own heart in their chest. It's an avalanche of emotion that Steve can't make out - so much it’s almost overwhelming - until he feels something like a guiding hand, firm and insistent.

“Max,” El whispers.

Steve turns his thoughts completely on Max, focusing on her - on taking her to the arcade, on the skate park, on her hanging out in his kitchen as they cook dinner. One by one, everyone's emotions start to take focus - on how Max makes them feel, how much they care, how they need her here.

Max's eyes open.

—

They set up another rotation schedule, this time for Max, who looks a little shell shocked and overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Did you think we wouldn't do this for you?” Steve asks quietly when it's his turn, when Lucas and El are sleeping and it's just him and Max awake in her room.

She doesn't answer for a while, but he can feel her conflicted confusion and then unsteady acceptance.

“No,” she says after a while. “I knew you guys would.”

He breathes out, and they sit in silence for a bit.

“Did you read my letter?” she asks, purposefully not looking at him.

“Nah. You said it was just in case, and there wasn't going to be an in case. We weren't going to let Vecna have you.” He manages to keep his voice steady, though he knows she can feel the edge of the fear he'd had for her. “I wanted to hear what was in it from you.”

She makes a face, and he thinks she isn't going to tell him, but then she blurts out, “I said I wished you were my brother, not Billy.”

Oh.

His stomach drops out, and there's a rush of vertigo that leaves him breathless for a moment, but - not in a bad way.

He doesn't know how to respond to that, other than, “I am your brother.”

She scoffs. “It doesn't work like that.”

“Sure it does,” he counters, growing confident. “Billy was your brother just because of a piece of paper your parents signed, right?”

She frowns, finally looking at him again. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what's stopping us?” He taps his chest, over where her heart beats. “We have each other's hearts. We'll always be family.”

Max looks away again, then, very quietly, says, “Okay.”

—

“Heard you call Max your sister when you were talking to the doctor earlier,” Eddie says.

Steve feels a little smile tug at his lips as he takes Eddie's hand. It grows when Eddie laces their fingers together.

“You know Dustin's going to throw a fit when he hears it, and insist that you were his brother first, right?” Eddie teases.

“Of course he is.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Welcome to my family. You sure you still want to stick around?”

He's joking, but Eddie's expression goes soft and contemplative.

“Welcome to your family, huh? You planning a proposal soon, big boy?” Eddie asks softly.

Steve's mouth goes dry. He thinks he should say something - anything - but nothing comes out.

“Swap?” Eddie asks, after a few minutes.

Steve's not sure if someone told him or if he figured it out himself, and part of him wants to ask Eddie if he's sure, but he decides to take Eddie at his word. He opens his chest up, holding out his heart.

Eddie copies him, and - it's his first real look at Eddie's heart. There's silver lines all over it, delicate scars mottling its surface, but it's almost as deep red as Steve's still is.

“Oh,” Steve breathes once Eddie's heart is safely tucked inside his chest again.

There's a love there so strong he almost doesn't know what to do with it - isn't sure if it's Eddie's or his for a moment before he realizes it's both of them feeding off each other.

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

Steve lifts Eddie's hand up, presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I know what I want my future to look like,” Steve admits. “And I want you in it.”

Eddie swallows, and Steve can feel an edge of trepidation before it solidifies into something sharp and determined. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Steve asks.

“I'm sticking around, this time,” Eddie confirms. “For good.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees.

He knows it's a risk, but - right now, they're alone, and so he leans in to seal the promise their hearts are making with a kiss.

-----

And that's the final part for now! I do have a sequel planned down the road for what happens after they get out of the hospital, folding Eddie into the heart sharing and settling Eddie and Steve and Robin into a trio - I plan on using the tag "hearts out steddie" if anyone would like to follow it for when it comes out!

Thank you so much to everyone who commented, reblogged, liked, or otherwise interacted with this! Everyone's reactions were so amazing, and I really love reading your thoughts!!

Final taglist: @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens @rebellatlas @blackpanzy

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #eleven hopper #steve and dustin #steve and dustin and eddie #steve and max #lumax #im not saying elumax but im also not NOT saying elumax #hearts out steddie

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dark-and-kawaii · 1 year ago

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༺ 𝒯𝒾𝑒𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ༻

Just some random headcanons I have for my three favorites, Zevlor, Dammon, and Rolan!! I hope you enjoy these!

Fluff - NSFW

- 𝒵𝑒𝓋𝓁𝑜𝓇 -

Our soft sweet man is just such a softie in bed.

Zevlor is so afraid of hurting you while bedding you, he absolutely hesitates at first asking you if you're sure, if this is really okay, that he's not worth your time, and that he’s afraid you’ll get hurt.

You'll definitely have to be the one to initiate the relationship, and you're 100% going to need to be the one who initiates sex.

Loves when you rake your nails gently down his sides and won't stop you from playing with his tail... He gets really flustered when you go for his tail during sex. The way he moans as you rub your hand over the tip of his tail causes him to groan and moan, Zevlor tries to bite back the sound but at times it's hard to contain such noises.

This isn't a boy, this is an absolute man. Degrading nicknames are pretty much off the table for him simply because he has so much respect for you. Now you could probably convince him to say a few things here and there, but it's so out of character for him and he never thought his red skin could get much redder until you get him to call you his "whore". Zevlor will always tell you afterwards, “You know i didn’t mean that, correct? I would never look at you in such a way.”

He loves you and he wants you to know that, Zevlor never wants you to feel like an object. To him you are his person, his life partner who helped him save his people and defenseless children.

Oh gods, if you helped him keep the children safe that alone makes him view you in such a bright light. He loves kids and the thought of having his own has crossed his mind more than he'd like to admit.

Holding you in his arms is something he cherishes deeply, he worries it might be the last everytime so he always gives you one last tight, but soft, squeeze. It's almost like he's memorizing the feeling of your body against his.

Loves to pepper you with kisses while on top of you! Every time he finishes he brings his head up to look at you with a tender smile before saying, "I love you."

Whether it's after a passionate moment, or simply going to sleep this man will wrap his tail around your thigh. If Zevlor is spooning you he will drape his tail over your hip or legs. Not only does this comfort him but it also reassures him that he's not alone anymore and that he has someone to protect other than his people.

Zevlor will always sleep on the side closest to any door or cave entrance; that way he can be the first they attack, giving you time to escape. He's incredibly selfless.

This man gets incredibly worried if you come back to him with an injury of any kind! He might even scold you, “What were you thinking?!” Will tend to your wounds like a professional -he’s done this several times thanks to being a hellrider-, and once he’s done wrapping you he’ll hold your hand begging you to be more careful next time.

- 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑜𝓃 -

Is so awkward at first, like oh my god he is so awkward if he has a crush on you. Will hold your hand and just kinda shake it before letting it go.

Blushing and hiding his face is something that happens if you walk over to him just to admire his work.

He has a few moods in bed, soft, rough, and playful. Our incredibly handsome blacksmith has a dirty book stashed in his house so like common we all know he’s into some freaky stuff.

Will lift you in his arms before either tossing you on his bed or laying you down gently, always expect a kiss on your neck once he’s back on top of you.

If you don’t grab his horns while you two are connected he’s going to be disappointed, won’t ever say anything to you about it, but he loves when you play with them or use them as leverage while riding him.

I definitely like to think Dammon is an expert at shibari, so expect to be tied up. I think deep down he’d love to have you tied up while he works, teasing you every so often until he’s finished the sword he’s been working hard on.

Likes to graze your skin with his sharp teeth and nails, he loves the way you shiver in response.

Tail play? Absolutely a thing with our babe Dammon. He will tease your slit and clit with his tail and if you’re slick enough he’ll slowly push it inside you. He won’t ever purposely try to hurt you and if you wince the slightest he’ll withdraw his tail and apologize. Only when you’re comfortable enough will he try again.

Likes to wrap his tail around you in general. Dammon loves it when you visit him while he’s working because he knows you’ll come from behind to hug him and his tail just naturally curls around you.

He’s a tail guy, it's hard for him to control his tail at times but if he’s happy you’ll know not only because of his eyes but also his tail.

If you’re a tiefling expect his tail to be entwined with your own.

Coming back to him with an injury is something he never likes to witness. It hurts him, like it really hurts him. He isn’t some hellrider or fighter like you or zevlor, he’s just a simple blacksmith who isn’t that strong on the battlefield -we all saw that 8 HP-. So how in the hells is he supposed to keep you safe, even when he thinks he’s made the toughest armor and you still come back with a wound… Oh gods it kills him. He feels like he failed you and failed as a blacksmith.

Dammon will always want to tend to your wounds, it's the least he could do since he feels so crummy about it. Will get as gentle as he can be, he’s pretty quiet during the process and you’ll be the one asking him what's wrong. He’ll sigh and pause momentarily until he tells you what's going through his mind. A simple caress to his cheek is all it takes for him to smile at you before placing a kiss where he just patched up.

No doubt Dammon wants kids, plural. I think he’d like at least three children, the gender doesn’t even matter so long as they’re all healthy :,)

- 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓃 -

This bitch, this stubborn, high maintenance tiefling, GOD I LOVE HIM.

Let’s get one thing straight, he prefers to be on the bottom.

Rolan doesn’t mind being on top but he much rather you do the work so he can watch your hips grind down on him. Loves to admire your body, like he really likes to admire you. You’re the most stunning female he’s ever met, won’t tell you that of course, but he thinks it every single time you’re on top of him.

Doesn’t like quickies, sex is a form of art to him and he likes to take his time and be one with you. He didn’t pick you to be his because he wanted to get off quickly, he chose you because he loves you and likes to be in your presence. That’s a rare thing for him and he intends to take advantage of that.

There’s only one place he likes a good quickie and that’s when he’s at Sorcerous Sundries. It’s also when he takes the most control, pinning you against that bookshelf he was just rifling through, the books falling off the shelves, it’s chaotic but he surprisingly doesn't mind it.

Something Rolan really enjoys is when he’s reading a new book and you come to him wanting to be in his lap. He used to find it obnoxious and would tell you that he’s busy, but when you stopped your attempts it made him feel strange… He never had a family besides his siblings, what if he becomes the reason you run off… The thought of you abandoning him because of his attitude pushed him to start asking you if you’d like to sit in his lap while he studies. Rolan still found it infuriating at first, but the more he allowed it the more he started to enjoy it. Now he finds himself holding you as if you’d vanish with one arm, his hand always resting at your thigh or the small of your back with his book in the other all while smiling pleasantly.

Has zero interest in kids, like it's going to take some convincing -even then good luck-. I can only assume he had a rough upbringing and I'm also assuming he was abandoned by his biological family. This has left a sour taste in his mouth when it comes to kids. “We have a perfectly good life now, why ruin it with a whiny one?”

Coming home with an injury??? Yeah you better expect, no you already know you wont hear the end of it. He’ll mock you for wanting to be the hero again and tell you how incredibly stupid it was of you to run off defending others when you should be more worried about yourself.

As he bandages your arm it's quiet, the only noise coming from the crackling fire. You’re silent, not wanting to speak with him after he berated you. Rolan is the one to speak up, telling you that he just worries. Its rare to see him with his walls down, even after being in a relationship for so long, but he breaks the walls as he stands to look at his bandage work. “You, Cal, and Lia are all i have… Please, don’t try something like this again. For my sake.” You aren’t sure what to say, he’s never sounded so hurt, so vulnerable. It’s the perfect time to tease him, “Are you getting sentimental on me?” He’ll just glare at you telling you to shush and to go get some rest.

Enjoys watching you, Cal, and Lia getting along. While you three joke and have your arms over one another’s shoulders while cheersing, Rolan can’t stop smiling. As soon as you turn around though his smile fades and he tells all three of you, “you’re all idiots, honestly.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #Zevlor #zevlor x tav #Dammon #dammon bg3 #dammon x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x tav #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #rolan x reader

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holybibly · 8 months ago

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Today's unholy thoughts, bunnies 🐰

Let's talk about Seonghwa as a trophy househusband who is neglected both sexually and in terms of love and who is perhaps overly attracted to the best friend of his wife's daughter.

Seonghwa is gentle, sensual, and too needy for the constant praise and adulation he doesn't get. He has big, shining eyes, plump, soft lips, a velvety voice, and a completely unhealthy obsession with the pretty best friend of his 'daughter'.

He knows it's wrong, or a small part of his knows it, but the way you look at him lovingly and the sweetness of your voice as you praise him, saying what a wonderful househusband he is and how well he keeps such a big house perfectly clean, makes his thoughts go in another direction.

Seonghwa wants to hear you praise him while his beautiful, gentle face is buried in your little pink pussy and his tongue slides expertly between the soft, moist folds. And Seonghwa knows exactly how pink your cunt is because he has a couple of naughty photos of you that he took while you were sleeping.

You had a habit of sleeping in nothing but a silk top and panties. The way the thin lace gathered between your labia, giving him a glimpse of your naked, sweet pussy, was too tempting for him to hold back his desires.

He would never be able to say it openly, but he might have licked you between your legs while you were in Morpheus's sweet embrace, so ready and available for him. And now he can't help but think of how heavenly you taste on his tongue every time he looks at you.

Seonghwa may only be thinking it, but he feels that you've been staring at him for too long, so he tries to dress as beautifully as possible and as suggestively as possible.

On purpose, he wears transparent blouses so that you can see his hard, dark pink nipples and trousers that are too tight to show off his long legs and magnificent ass to perfection. He even paints his lips with your favourite gloss and deliberately licks them with his tongue, so you can't take your eyes off him for more than a second.

He may look a little desperate when he invites you to sit on his lap during a family trip out on the town. Of course, it's all completely unintentional. There are just not enough seats in the car; he doesn't know how to drive; his "daughter" gets sick; and Seonghwa didn't intentionally pack things in the car in such a way that you have nowhere to sit except on his lap.

But most importantly, Seonghwa chooses the track perfectly—twisty, terribly long, with a broken road. And who else but him will hold you tight when the car jumps at the next pit.

Seonghwa also knows that you hate trousers and shorts, so you always wear those unaffordable short skirts and slutty little thongs that don't stop him from discreetly touching you the way he wants. Maybe he accidentally forgot to button his jeans, or maybe he did it on purpose so that the wet, swollen head of his dick would rub against your tender ass throughout the trip.

Seonghwa is just too sensitive and needy to intentionally drool on your shoulder from this tiny stimulation and moan pitifully into your ear when his cock accidentally slips between your ass cheeks.

He apologises shyly, crumpling a long sweater in his hands, and says that he didn't mean to do it, that it happened by accident, and that he's incredibly ashamed of it. He receives a reply from you: "It's okay, Seonghwa, I understand. It can happen to anyone."

And the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him come almost immediately without any touching.

It may get painfully icky to feel constantly aroused around you, but he can't help but imagine you riding his cock while his mouth sucks on your pretty tits when he happens to see you masturbating in the bath.

Oh God, the way your cunt embraces the thick pink dildo, squeezing and stretching around the silicone toy, brings him to his knees. He would give absolutely everything just to fill your cunt with his cock, and he could swear that he would stretch you out much better than that stupid toy.

Most likely, Seonghwa is going crazy waking up to the ghostly feeling of your lips wrapped around his leaking, throbbing cock because he is sure this will never happen in reality.

Or maybe you just got tired of his ingratiating wet looks and decided to force him into action by waking him up with a blowjob while your girlfriend and her mother went shopping for breakfast, leaving you alone with the sweet and gentle Seonghwa.

And the sight of his back arching and his soft, sensual mouth parting with a soft moan as his thick cum pours into your mouth is much sweeter for you than any pancakes for breakfast.

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut

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msmk11 · 6 months ago

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Best Friend's Mom Part Four

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word count: 5.5k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, mentions of food, angst, smut, cursing

Summary: You've finally confessed your feelings to Wanda. Will she reciprocate them? If so, what happens next? And what'll happen if she rejects you? Anything could happen.

A/n: Fourth and FINAL part is here! (I lowkey wrote most of this today so I hope it's good lol!) Anywho, I'd just like to thank y'all for loving this story as much as I have. And, if you're sad that it's over, never fear! Because of all your love and support, I've decided to do something special that you can check out here. Happy reading!

“Well, do you?”

The question hangs in the air between you and time has completely stopped. You hold your breath and your heart beats so rapidly in your chest that you’re certain Wanda can hear it.

Your instincts tell you to run, to avoid what you fear most.

Rejection.

But for once, you’re brave. You stay put and hold eye contact with Wanda. It’s her that breaks first.

“My simple answer is yes.”

All of the air rushes back into your lungs and you dispel a long sigh of relief.

“But,” she adds, “I’m hesitant to say anything else because we both know that nothing about this situation is simple.”

You nod, and this time your sigh is a little more dejected.

“Yeah, I know.”

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs, “It sucks. This whole situation is shitty. If only you weren’t my best friends’ mom, and I wasn’t in college, and we didn’t have to hide.”

The silence is thick, weighty with the words left unsaid- the words that neither of you want to vocalize. To vocalize them would be to admit to reality, and the small glimmer of hope still left would be shattered. To put it all into words would also force you to call this thing between you and Wanda what it is- a fling. A word that, right now, disgusts you to your core. A fling- the concept and word itself so casual when nothing about what’s happened between you two has been casual at all. You and Wanda had not casually fucked, casually cuddled, or casually made out. In every interaction with Wanda, there was always something deeper simmering just below the surface. There was an understanding of each other’s lives and struggles, tenderness, only found in a familiarity by association, and a deep love for each other, not even in the romantic sense, though you guess a hint of that existed as well, but in a sense of gratitude. Your shared compassion for the twins, and the undoubted affect you’d each had on them brought you two together in an indescribable way. Though you hadn’t known it yet, you and Wanda’s souls had been intertwined by destiny, forever attached by the two who brought you together in the first place.

Therefore, to treat this connection between you two as so much less than it deserves makes you not just just angry or sad but bitter. Nothing about it is fair. You deserve more, sure, but it’s Wanda that deserves everything good. After all that she’s been through, she’s maintained a heart of gold, and your heart aches to know the pain she’s being put through yet again.

But you can’t hide forever, and Wanda finally admits what you can’t. Won’t.

“I think,” Wanda says, hesitating, “that we have to accept that this is as good as it gets.”

It stings, Wanda’s confession, the truth smacking you square in the face. Housed within these walls is a beautiful utopia that you and Wanda have escaped to. It’s been sweet, and raw, and vulnerable, and now it’s all crumbling down. In no world would you and Wanda ever have been able to be together in the way you both wanted. There were the boys to think of, and your future, and the life Wanda had created for herself. Neither of you wanted to risk the happiness of the other for a potential shared happiness.

“I’m afraid that if we tried to continue what we have going now, everything would fall apart, and I’d come to resent you. And I don’t want that, Detka. For me, or you, or Billy and Tommy,” Wanda adds softly, “So let’s just enjoy this while we have it, and make the most of our time left.”

Tears sting your eyes and so much pressure has built in your throat that you can’t speak. You only nod at Wanda and her gaze, somehow, softens even more.

“Baby,” she whispers hoarsely. In seconds she’s pulled you into her arms, wrapping you so tightly in her warm embrace that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You nuzzle your face into her neck and try to take deep breaths, hoping that her scent will calm the raging storm in your head. She rocks the two of you back and forth slowly, and you can’t tell if it’s more for her or for you.

“Wanda,” you call out, and your voice cracks pitifully.

“Shhh, don’t” the redhead answers, her voice similarly thick with emotion.

You bury your hands in her shirt and grip it tightly, trying to hold on to something when everything else around you is slipping away. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the sob that racks your body.

Wanda doesn’t say anything, she just presses a tender kiss to your head. And when you feel a few teardrops fall onto your hair, you don’t mention it.

“I know it’d be hard, but what do you think about pretending, for just a little longer? I mean, we’ve been doing it this long, so what’s one more day?” she murmurs into your hair.

You pull away a little, craning your neck up towards Wanda with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, “Yeah, yes. Please. I’d really like that.”

She smiles fondly at you, “Good. Now let’s wipe away these tears.”

She ever so gently untangles an arm from around you and thumbs away the residual wetness on your cheeks, “There we go, all better.”

Her hand traces down your cheek and cups your jaw. She pulls you in and places a tender kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and tastes a little of the salty tears you’d both just shed. Instead of the hot spark that usually shoots through your body when you kiss Wanda, an overall warmth spreads through your body from your head all the way down to your toes. It makes your stomach ache, not with sadness but rather an all consuming happiness. You’re sure that any moment you’ll burst into a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

*****

The last day and a half of your spring break trip is bittersweet. Though you try to stay present, any time Wanda is around you can’t help but think about how each interaction with her may be your last- your last kiss, your last secret glance, or your last inside joke. To know that the end of something is coming before it ever actually happens is maddening, and you swear that you can hear a clock slowly ticking down to zero as each minute passes. Around the boys especially you don a mask of joviality even though internally you’re floundering. As you go about your day there’s a perpetual ache in your chest and a lump that never seems to leave your throat.

Maybe it’s because you’re desperate to slow down, or maybe it’s because you’re so caught up in your head that it passes quickly, but before you know it, time has slipped through your fingers and it’s already Friday evening. It’s late, and the boys are off in their room packing their bags. Desperate to hold on to the last little bit of your trip left, you decide to leave the packing for tomorrow morning and instead lay on the couch listlessly scrolling through channels on tv. You can’t help wondering where Wanda has wandered off to, but you know that if you go looking for her, you’ll only end up in a puddle of tears.

At some point in your scrolling you end up on an old sitcom- The Dick Van Dyke Show. You’ve never really watched it before, but something about it instantly catches your attention. The simplicity and domesticity of it all soothes you and your brain finally begins to quiet down.

“Did you know that was my favorite show as a kid?”

You look up at Wanda in her long gray tee shirt and leggings, hair pulled back into a low pony, “Really?”

She joins you, sitting on the arm of the couch, “Mhmm. When things would get bad back home in Sokovia, my mom and dad would always put on old sitcom tapes to distract my brother and I. I liked all the ones they showed me, but The Dick Van Dyke Show was always my favorite. Still is.”

A warm smile graces Wanda’s pretty features as she reminisces to you about her childhood and your heart feels so full that she’s chosen to share parts of herself with you.

“I’ve actually never seen it,” you say, “but I just came across it now, and I instantly felt…”

“Calmer?”

“Mhmm.”

You both silently watch the show for a few minutes, and though you’re tempted, you don’t once glance at Wanda. It’s a true demonstration of your willpower because Wanda is so, so tempting. You desperately wish to pull her closer, to hold her, touch her, and kiss her. But if you let yourself give in, you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop. Being around Wanda is addicting and you long to taste her over and over again, to get drunk on her, even if you’re bound to waste away after.

You’re so lost in your own head that you don’t notice Wanda slowly slipping off the arm of the couch onto the seat next to you. It’s only when she basically crawls into your lap that you look away from the tv, startled. She’s on her knees, legs tucked beneath her, and she rests her hands on your thighs. Her face is so incredibly close to yours that with even the slightest movement, your lips would touch.

Her green eyes search yours intently, “Detka, I was thinking…”

She pauses, and you can’t help but quickly peck her lips to encourage her to keep talking. The embarrassed smile that forms on her face also makes you scream internally.

“I’d really like to take you out on a date, baby. Just one. Before everything… ends.”

You squeal quietly and jump onto her, knocking her backwards onto the couch. You pepper kisses all over her face and she grabs your hips, giggling quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Oh my god Wanda, duh!”

And then more quietly and seriously you say, “I’d really, really like that.”

A hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and she guides you to her lips, kissing you sweetly. You suck gently on her bottom lip and try to ingrain into your mind the pretty little sighs she releases. When you pull away, you watch as her long eyelashes flutter open and admire the soft look in her green eyes.

She squeezes your side playfully, “let’s go Detka, we have a date to go on.”

You sit back on your heels to give Wanda room to sit up, “where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Now go get your shoes.”

You obey her immediately, plopping down onto the hardwood and slipping on your tennis shoes. When you’re ready to go, she grabs her keys off the kitchen table and quietly ushers you out to her small black sedan. You’ve yet to ride in Wanda’s car, the boys usually driving, and it’s nice. With black leather seats and wood trimming, you feel like you’re living in luxury. The car, somehow, smells like her too, and you feel blissfully pampered and mindless strapped into the passenger seat of her car.

She starts the car and rolls down the windows. You pull out of the driveway and speed off down the coastal highway, the radio softly playing in the background. The air is warm, but the wind is cool on your skin and you can smell the salt in the air. Your hair whips around wildly in the breeze, and you know that it’ll look a mess the rest of the night, but you can’t find it in you to care. Though you still have no idea where Wanda is taking you, by the direction you’re going you can at least guess that it’ll be somewhere in town.

While you’d be happy to go anywhere with Wanda, you’re extra thrilled when she pulls up to the local ice cream shop. Your sweet tooth aches with excitement and you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt. You go to open your door but Wanda reaches out to stop you, “Wait! I wanna get it for you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you’re so awestruck by how sweet and wonderful she is. She hops out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. When you climb out you give her a peck on the cheek, “what a lady you are, Wanda. I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

The redhead wraps her arm around your waist and tucks you into her side. It’s the most public you two have ever been and the thrill secretly excites you.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, “You deserve only the best, Detka. I hope you always know that.”

She’s being too sweet to you, and it’s making you all shy, so you tuck your head further into her side to hide your face. She chuckles lightly and squeezes your waist, guiding you two over to the counter to order.

Wanda orders two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a cup and you do the same, though with chocolate ice cream. All of the seating at the shop is outdoors, so you two find a table off to the side in a secluded corner. You cuddle up on one bench, legs tangled together and shoulders touching. The treat is sweet on your tongue and you moan softly at the taste.

“Good?” Wanda asks in between bites of her own ice cream.

You nod, “Very. Yours?”

She scoops a bit of the ice cream onto her spoon and lifts it towards you, “try?”

You eagerly accept her invitation and wrap your lips around the spoon. It’s tangier than your chocolate, but still good. You swirl it around your tongue, savoring the flavor as Wanda watches you with curious eyes.

“Mhmm, I like that too. Still prefer mine though,” you say with a small smile.

“Well good, because you’re not getting any more of mine anyways,” the redhead answers with a wink.

You roll your eyes teasingly and happily take another bite of your own ice cream.

“Oh, wait? Do you want to try mine?”

Before you can offer Wanda a spoonful of the chocolate, she reaches out and swipes her thumb across your lips. When she pulls away there’s a little chocolate on her skin and she slowly sucks it off, “Mhmm, tastes good, baby.”

This alone causes your brain to turn to mush and so you just stare at her, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed.

Wanda doesn’t attempt to hide her smirk at your dumbfounded expression, “love when you get all dazed and pretty like this, Detka.”

Your gaze drops to your ice cream and you mumble about how she’s a tease.

She lifts your chin so that you look at her again, “You know you love it.”

“Not when we’re in public!”

Wanda hesitates for a moment, the wheels in her brain turning, before she asks, “wanna go make strawberry-chocolate ice cream in the car?”

*****

You're outside the door to the house and you and Wanda are giggling like schoolgirls as she fumbles with the keys.

“Shhh, Wanda, be careful. We don’t want to get caught!”

“Sorry, I just can’t get my hands to work,” she answers, giggling again.

You grab her hands and still them, looking at her gently, “here, let me do it.”

You take the keys from her and easily insert it into the lock. It clicks open softly and you motion for Wanda to go inside first, you following close behind her. Wanda stands by the door slipping off her shoes and grabs your shoulder as she nearly falls over. You grab her waist, steadying her, “careful, love.”

She smiles at you sheepishly while she casts her other shoe aside and you take a moment to admire her windblown cheeks and messy hair. You brush a strand behind her ear and her eyes flutter close at your touch.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

You and Wanda freeze, and a rock settles in your stomach. When you turn around, there stands Billy and Tommy in the living room, mixed expressions of confusion, anger, disbelief and betrayal written all over their faces.

“Guys, it’s-” you begin, your voice shaking.

“Not what it looks like?” Billy scoffs, “because it looks like you can’t keep your hands off my mom.”

“Billy, wait,”

“Tell us what the fuck is going on right now,” Tommy interrupts.

You barely spare Wanda a glance as you make your way into the living room. She hesitantly follows behind you.

“Uhm me and Wan- your mom- we’ve been…”

What are you supposed to call this thing you and Wanda have been doing?

“Seeing each other,” she finishes.

Billy eyes you two’s disheveled appearances with disgust, “seems more like you’ve been fucking each other!”

“Billy!” Wanda says sharply.

“What, Mom? I’m gonna call it as I see it, since you two don’t seem inclined to tell the truth.”

You can already feel your lip beginning to quiver but you ignore it, “That’s not fair. Please, just listen for a second.”

“Not fair?!” Tommy protests, “What I think is unfair is that my mom and best friend have been lying to my face so that they can sneak around and fuck. I mean, god. That’s disgusting. Mom- she’s our best friend and you,” he points his finger aggressively towards you, “going after our mom? That’s really fucking shitty.”

A tear unwillingly escapes your eye, “But it wasn’t- it’s not like that. I didn’t intend for it to happen. It just did.”

“So you just fell into each other’s beds?” Billy asks, sarcasm thick in his voice.

“That’s not what she means, Billy,” Wanda answers solemnly.

“What she means is that it all just happened so suddenly, so organically. We were just drawn to each other, and that’s not in our control.”

“But your actions are. You could’ve resisted. Instead, you were selfish.”

You’re entirely sympathetic to the twins’ pain and anger. This comment, however, riles you from your sorrowful stupor.

“Selfish? You’re calling us selfish? You don’t even know what you’re talking about, Billy! Wanda and I have done nothing but think about you both the entire time. You want to know what we did yesterday? We decided to completely end things after this trip because we wanted to protect you two from our dumb decisions. Wanda and I agreed that even though we both have feelings for each other, your lives and feelings are far more important. This is one of the first really good things that’s happened to both of us in a really long time, and we gave it up for you. So you can sit here and call us stupid, or liars, or traitors, but don’t sit here and call us selfish.”

After your outburst, the room goes completely and utterly silent. Your panting hard and your hands are shaking as you watch so many emotions play out on your best friends’ faces. You glance at Wanda and the sight before you breaks your heart. At this moment, she looks so totally and utterly miserable. Silent tears are streaming down her face and her eyes dart anxiously between her two boys. Guilt pools in your stomach and you can’t help but feel that everything is your fault. Had you never been a part of their lives, nothing would be ruined and Wanda, Billy, and Tommy could’ve been a perfect, happy little family.

You sigh heavily and look at the three people you care about most, “Look, I’m sorry. I-”

“Just, stop talking,” Tommy says, interrupting you again, though this time his voice is a little less harsh.

“You, you said that you have feelings for my mom?”

“Yeah, yeah” you answer, vigorously nodding, “I care about her so much.”

Billy looks at Wanda hesitantly, “And you feel the same way?”

Although she’d just confessed her feelings yesterday, a small part of you fears that she’s changed her mind, or maybe even lied. You chew on your lip anxiously, awaiting her response with bated breath.

Instead of answering Billy and Tommy directly, she turns and looks straight at you, “Yes. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

You know your eyes are shining thick with tears and you give her a great big wobbly smile.

Billy sighs, rubbing his face roughly, “And you make each other happy?”

Simultaneously you and Wanda answer yes.

“Then who are we to get in your way?” Tommy replies, shaking his head.

You gasp quietly and turn towards the twins, hope bubbling up in your chest. They still don’t look totally okay, but the small, tired smiles on each of their faces tells you that they will be in time.

Wanda makes the first move, walking towards them both and cupping each of their faces, “You really mean it moya lubov? Because I stand by what I said, the happiness of you two will always be the most important thing to me.”

Any residual tension in the faces of your two friends fade under their mother’s touch.

“Yeah, mom. We mean it. We just want you to be happy.”

Tommy looks at you then and raises his eyebrows sternly, “And I swear to god, if you hurt her.”

You let out a watery chuckle, “I won’t. I promise.”

“And you,” Billy says, looking to his mom, “if you hurt her?”

Wanda turns and looks at you softly, “I could never.”

Then at the same time Billy and Tommy say, “okay.”

*****

When everything has settled, you and Wanda find yourselves alone yet again. Though there’s still so much new ground to navigate between you, Wanda, and the boys, you can’t ignore the unbridled happiness overwhelming your senses. You and Wanda look at each other with the biggest, goofiest smiles on your faces and you jump into her arms.

Reminded once again how strong she is, Wanda catches you easily and you wrap your legs around her waist. She presses a heated kiss to your lips and you encourage her, arms circling her neck. Somehow while still kissing you, she makes her way down the hall to her room. When she steps inside she kicks the door closed and carries you to the bed. Wanda throws you down on your back gently and then climbs on top of you. She kisses you a few times on the lips, and then the neck, before trailing her hands lower to the hem of your shirt. She makes eye contact with you, seemingly asking if she can take it off, and you nod aggressively. She chuckles lowly and grabs your shirt. You stick your arms out as she pulls it over your head and tosses it somewhere across the room. You shiver, and you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air, Wanda’s gaze, or her burning touch across your stomach- probably all three.

“So beautiful, baby,” she mumbles, placing kisses at your collarbone and then slowly trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

You moan at her featherlight touches, but you still need more. Wanda seems to read your mind as she slides her hands underneath you and unclips your bra. Your nipples are hard from arousal and the cold air and Wanda moans at the sight. She surges forward and takes your left nipple into her mouth, sucking softly at the bud and letting her tongue roll casually over it. Her hand stimulates your other tit, groping and pinching it lightly. She alternates, so that both get their fair share. When she pulls away she plants a kiss on your panting lips before moving downward to the lower half of your body. She pushes your knees up, so that your feet lay flat on the bed, and your legs spread for her. You look down at her, her eyes full of lust and cleavage on display as she bends towards your pussy, and you moan. She places kisses and bites across your calves and then thighs before tugging off your shorts and then grabbing your underwear, pulling it tantalizingly slow down your legs.

All of it’s painfully hot, and you're desperate to tell Wanda to move faster- but you know better than to rush her.

Wanda gasps as she throws your panties aside and eyes your pink, glistening folds, “such a pretty pussy, and all for me.”

You hum, “yes, only you Wanda.”

“Good,” she answers, patting your thigh. She moves back up your body and kisses you, though one hand travels down between your thighs. Lightly, she places pressure on your clit and rubs slow, soft circles. The only way to describe the sensation is white, hot pleasure and you cry out- luckily into her mouth. As her mouth migrates down your body, so do her fingers. They dip into your outer folds and tease your hole with your gathered wetness. As she sucks on your nipple yet again, one finger slides slowly into you and you let out a loud moan, “Oh Wanda, that- that feels so good. Please.”

“You’re doing so good for me Detka”, Wanda praises, “So tight and warm.”

“Th- thank you Wanda. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeat as she thrusts her finger in and out of you slowly.

Wanda then inserts a second finger, stretching you wider. It’s a little painful, but it feels so good you don’t mind.

As you writhe in pleasure, you watch Wanda. Her long, red hair falls over her shoulder as she bends down to suck a hickey onto your neck. Her face is flushed and her green eyes are lust-blown. As Wanda’s hand continues to pound into you, you reach out and pull Wanda away from your neck.

“Wanna touch you Wanda,” you say breathlessly. You pull her in and kiss her lips roughly again. One hand stays in her hair and tugs at her red locks while the other wanders down to grope her tits. She moans into your mouth and her fingers falter for a second at your touch. As you continue your ministrations on her clothed breasts, Wanda adds a third finger and you nearly see stars. Desperate for her own release, she begins to hump your thigh as she fingers you. Observing her pleasure nearly sends you over the edge.

You beg Wanda to stop for just a moment so that you can slip off her shirt. You unclasp her bra and grunt at the sight of her naked tits. Wanda continues to pound into you and your legs tighten around her hand. As she humps your leg, you watch her beautiful tits bounce and the way her head is thrown back in a fit of pleasure. The image of Wanda before you sends you over the edge, finally, and your stomach muscles clench. You cry out loudly and moan Wanda’s name over and over as you finally come. Your body shakes with pleasure and you really do see stars this time. When you come down from your high, you are panting heavily. Wanda is still chasing her own, and you can tell she’s getting close. You grip her hips and stop her, “Don’t want you to cum on my thigh, Wanda.”

Suddenly, you flip her onto her back and straddle her.

“Drawer, Detka, look in my drawer,” Wanda breathes out desperately. You reach over her and open the top drawer on the left. Inside is a pink strap-on.

“You want me to use this, Wanda?” You ask seriously.

“Please, please fuck me baby,” she answers huskily.

You stand from the bed, Wanda groaning at the loss of your touch, as you step into the harness and tighten it against your skin so that it bumps your clit a little. When you crawl back onto the bed, you grab the hem of Wanda’s pants and yank them down. Then, you grab her lacy black underwear and pull that down too, revealing her pussy to you. You moan loudly and instantly surge forward, licking a line up her slit. She tastes so sweet, and you want to eat her out so badly, but you decide to save that for later.

“Please, Detka. Don’t tease me,” Wanda orders.

You nod and do as she says. You line the tip of the dildo up to her entrance and tease her folds. She moans softly and grabs your waist. Then, slowly, you slide inside her. She’s wet enough that there’s not much resistance, and when your hips meet hers you pause.

Wanda sighs out, “So big. Feels so good, baby. So full of you.”

“Anything for you Wanda. Your pretty pussy deserves everything,” you whisper in her ear as you thrust your hips for the first time. The squeal she lets out sends you into a frenzy, and quickly you are pounding into Wanda at a rapid pace. She’s only letting out a series of moans, whines and squeals and it’s so incredibly hot. You suck on one of her nipples and play with the other till she is writhing underneath you. When you get her close, you move down a little and throw her legs over your shoulders, allowing you to lift her hips off the bed and drill into her at a deeper angle. You know you’ve found her g-spot by the way she lets out long, loud moans, and you muffle her mouth with your lips so that Billy and Tommy don’t hear. With one final thrust, Wanda’s eyes roll into the back of her head and her back arches into you, tits touching. The moans of your name light a fire in your stomach, and the added stimulation of the strap on your throbbing clit sends you over the edge a second time. You both cum together before slowly coming down from your high. You’re left panting as you collapse on top of her, the dildo still inside.

As you start to recover, Wanda slowly starts stroking your sweaty hair away from your face. You smile against her chest and place a soft kiss there.

“That was really good, Wanda. Thank you.”

Wanda only lifts your chin and smiles at you before she locks your lips in another kiss- this time more sweet and tender.

*****

The time you’d been dreading the entire week- saying goodbye- has finally arrived. While it once left you sick with dread, now it doesn’t seem so bad. The fact that you and Wanda aren’t saying goodbye forever certainly helps. Wanda’s in the kitchen sweeping out the sand and you and the twins are packing up their car with your bags. You were nervous this morning that they’d act weird around you now that you’re with Wanda, but they’ve been fairly normal besides the occasional dark jokes here or there.

When the last of your stuff is loaded into the car, the three of you make your way back into the house.

“Mom? Want us to take your bags out to your car?” Tommy asks, swiping a banana off the counter.

She smiles sweetly at him, “yes, please. Thank you.”

You give Wanda a wink and begin to follow after the boys when she calls out, “wait, Detka. I need your help.”

Billy mockingly gags and you roll your eyes at him before trotting obediently back to Wanda.

“What’d you need help with?” You ask her eagerly.

She peers over your shoulder, making sure the boys aren’t in sight, and then grabs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a kiss.

You can’t help but smile against her lips, and when you pull away you chuckle.

“Was that it?”

She hums contentedly, “though I think I need one more for good measure.”

“I’m here to serve,” you tell her teasingly, kissing her again.

“Nope! No! Okay, that’s enough you two,” Tommy declares as he comes back into the kitchen, “Jesus, I’m gonna throw up.”

You both have the decency to look sheepish and say, “sorry!”

He sighs, feigning annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now come on, we gotta get back to school.”

Billy joins you all in the kitchen, “Yep, we gotta go, so no more public indecency, please.”

You snort a little and slap his arm lightly, “shut up.”

He gives you a pointed look and then goes up to hug Wanda, “Bye Mom. I’ll call you next week, okay?”

She hugs him tightly and kisses him tenderly on the forehead before taking Tommy into her arms, “Goodbye, moya lubov.”

Then she says to both of them, “You let me know when you get back safe. I love you!”

“Love you too,” they both say at the same time, heading towards the door.

Tommy looks at you, “you coming?”

You nod, “Yep, be right out in a second.”

When they’re gone you don’t say anything to Wanda, you just pull her into a tight embrace.

“We’ll see each other soon, okay?” she tells you.

You pull away and admire her pretty features one final time before you have to say goodbye.

“Okay, Wanda. I’ll see you soon.”

She smiles warmly at you and kisses goodbye, but not, you happily note, for forever.

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

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