#just let people read and make up their minds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbaz7 · 10 hours ago

Text

FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 1

paige x azzi

word count: 11.7k

A/N: I’m back!!! This is one of my first AU and it got me excited to write again! I don’t even know how to describe it honestly 😭 just read it and find out. Let me know what you think please 🤭

—————————————————————————

Azzi Fudd stood at the counter of the small, semi-packed café in Dallas, Texas, holding her warm cup of coffee in her hand. Normally, the café was a quiet, peaceful retreat—just the perfect place for a quick moment of solitude before heading to her office for the day. But today? The usual cozy hum of conversation and soft music turned into a buzz of chatter, and for some reason, there were more people milling about than she was used to. Some sat with their drinks, but there were others who didn’t seem to have a purpose, simply standing around, scanning the space. It felt like the usual sereneness had been replaced with a subtle restlessness in the air.

Azzi shook the thought from her mind. She’d come here for one thing: a much-needed pick me up with a cup of coffee. She took a sip, the warmth swirling in her chest, but as she turned toward an empty corner, a sudden bump jolted her from her thoughts.

She looked down to find herself toe-to-toe with a tiny figure.

The little boy stood there, almost too small to notice in the midst of all the bustling customers. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle anytime the sunlight hit them, his blonde hair a soft, messy assortment of wavy curls. There was something about him—something about how his wide-eyed gaze was a mix of innocent curiosity and complete calmness.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Azzi murmured, stepping back to avoid the awkwardness of the accidental bump. She gave him a gentle smile, but before she could ask if he was alright, the boy softly mumbled, “Sorry.” Then he turned his attention back to the cafe around him, his focus unbroken as he looked around.

Azzi tilted her head slightly. She couldn’t help but smile at how quietly composed he seemed. Kneeling down to his level, she knelt to make eye contact, her voice soft but warm to not scare him. “Do you need help, sweetie?”

The boy paused, his brows furrowing ever so slightly as if he was pondering the question carefully. “Maybe,” he said after a moment.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. “Maybe? That’s a first,” she teased gently. She watched him closely, noting the confidence in his small but steady posture.

The boy shifted his gaze, his blue eyes scanning the café again with all of the seriousness he could muster. Finally, he turned toward Azzi. “Ma says I’m not posed to talk to strangers,” he said. Pausing for a second before adding, “But you’re pretty.”

Azzi’s smile widened at the compliment. “Well, thank you, handsome,” she replied. “Where’s your mom?”

The boy looked around again, his small body twisting in place as he searched the area. His little shoulders sagged as he gave a shrug, his eyes lowering briefly, unsure what to do next.

Azzi’s heart melted at the sight. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

The boy’s eyes brightened at the question, a sudden surge of confidence rising in his small frame. “Lukas Drew Bueckers,” he said, puffing out his chest with a quiet pride. He then added, as though to clarify a very important piece of information, “Lukas with a K.”

Azzi laughed softly at his enthusiasm. “Well, Lukas with a K, can I help you find your mom?”

The boy studied her for a moment, his blue eyes scanning her face carefully. Weighing his options. After a second, he nodded, as if deciding she was trustworthy. “Sure,” he said simply.

Azzi smiled and without a second thought she carefully scooped him up into her arms.

She felt Lukas shift slightly in her arms, his small body twisting as he scanned the room with fresh determination. His earlier uncertainty had disappeared, replaced by a quiet confidence that Azzi couldn’t help but admire for someone his age. As she looked at him, she saw his blue eyes brighten, and before she could ask him about it, the boy’s small hand shot out.

Azzi’s gaze trailed the direction of his tiny finger. Across the cafe, standing near a group of young girls, was a tall blonde woman who immediately caught Azzi’s attention. She looked calm, almost serene, as if she had mastered the art of existing in a crowded space without ever being overwhelmed by it. Her posture was straight, her movements calculated as she offered polite smiles to the people around her giving each one of them just the right amount of attention. But there was something else in her gaze—something more intentional behind her warm expression. Azzi could see that, despite the casual grace she radiated, the woman was intentionally scanning the room in between bursts of eye contact.

The way the woman held herself reminded Azzi of the little boy she had in her arms. They both seemed to exude that same stillness, that calm poise. Like they were in their own little bubble amidst the chaos of the café.

Azzi squinted slightly, her eyes narrowing in on the blonde. There was something vaguely familiar about her, a recognition that lingered just out of reach, but Azzi couldn’t place it because she was a little too far to make out the full details of her face.

Then, Lukas’s soft voice broke her thoughts. “That’s my ma,” he said proudly, his chest puffing out with a sense of triumph.

Azzi’s eyes shifted back to the woman. Her calm demeanor was still in place as she subtly swept her gaze across the room again, her eyes eventually landing on Lukas and holding there for just a moment longer than necessary. She didn’t rush or react too visibly—she simply locked eyes with him, a small flicker of relief in her expression.

Azzi adjusted him in her arms, the little boy now content to rest against her with a gentle but firm grip. “I think we found her, huh?”

Lukas nodded, his blue eyes fixed on his mom as he let out a small sigh of relief.

Azzi’s gaze lingered on the blonde woman a little longer than she’d intended. There was something magnetic about her, something familiar yet entirely unknown. As Azzi observed her, the woman’s gaze shifted again, this time locking onto hers with an intensity that made Azzi’s heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just a casual glance—it felt like a quiet assessment. As if the blonde was calculating who this woman was with her son in her arms. Azzi’s breath caught in her chest, feeling the weight of that scrutiny, and for a brief second, she wondered what the woman was thinking.

But then, as quickly as it began, the assessment seemed to end. The blonde’s expression softened, a small smirk tugging at her lips. The moment passed, and she effortlessly shifted her attention back to the person in front of her, posing for a picture with a polite smile and signing her autograph.

Azzi gently adjusted Lukas in her arms as she began making her way over to the blonde.

As Azzi approached and the details became a little more defined it clicked in her mind who the woman was. The blonde paused mid-laugh, her attention shifting to her son who was now in front of her.

Lukas, known to be a little enthusiastic, reached his small arms toward his mother, his face lighting up when she caught him effortlessly despite him basically launching his body at her.

“Where’d you run off to, buddy?” the blonde asked with a soft laugh as she organized some of the messy waves of curls on the boy's head.

Lukas looked up at her with wide eyes, his face scrunched in concentration as he tried to explain his logic. “I was standing right there,” he began, his words spilling out in his three, almost-four-year-old cadence. “But then a girl tried to take a picture with you, and she almost ran me over! She dropped her chocolate, so I went to get her napkins.”

The blonde smiled at his story with an affectionate glint in her eyes. “Being a gentleman, huh?” she teased, clearly proud of her son’s instincts.

Lukas beamed at the praise, nodding vigorously. “Yup!”

Before Azzi could react, Lukas was off again, his little mouth running a mile a minute as he continued, “And then I bumped into this nice ma’am, but I wasn’t gonna talk to strangers ‘cause you know Ma you always say I shouldn’t, but she was really pretty, so I did anyway. And then she helped me find you!” Once he was done he shrugged casually, as if the sequence of events was a regular part of his day.

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at the way he rambled, completely unfazed by the world around him, his innocence and honesty shining through in his words. Paige, for her part, seemed entirely accustomed to this stream-of-consciousness storytelling, her eyes twinkling as she chuckled softly, the lines around her eyes deepening as she smiled at him.

“Well, alright, Casanova,” Paige said with a playful tone, her voice soft but still authoritative. “Go sit right there where I can see you and don’t move.” She pointed toward a chair directly next to where she was standing, just a few steps away, so Lukas wouldn’t be out of her sight again.

Lukas nodded, his eyes wide with excitement at the notion of getting to sit in such a grown-up chair. “Okay!” he said, already wiggling in his mom’s arms as she gently set him down.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle as she watched the little boy plop himself into the seat with a small flourish, trying to act like a big kid, yet still so full of that innocent wonder. She turned her gaze back to the blonde woman, who was already looking at her.

The blonde licked her lips, a subtle gesture, before she spoke. “Thank you for helping out the ladies' man over there,” she said, her voice smooth. She reached her hand out, a slight smirk forming on her lips—not one of arrogance, but a kind of self-assuredness that made it clear she knew exactly how to speak to women. “I’m Paige,” she added, her tone warm and inviting.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond with her name. Instead she simply reached out to shake Paige’s hand, a small flicker of amusement crossing her face when she felt Paige’s thumb brush against her knuckles. The touch was subtle, Azzi pulled away with a quiet confidence that Paige wasn’t used to encountering.

With a small smile, Azzi said, “I know who you are.”

Paige’s smirk deepened, her eyes flashing with curiosity. “Yeah?”

Azzi chuckled softly. “Kind of hard not to know who the face of the Wings is when you live in Dallas.”

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, not surprised but seemingly entertained. Azzi glanced around the café, her eyes noticing the small crowd still lingering near Paige and watching her conversation subtly.

“So, I take it you’re the reason my coffee run was so hectic today?”

Paige chuckled softly. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “Someone posted about me being here before I could leave, and Casanova over there was taking his sweet time eating his breakfast muffin.”

Azzi laughed, the image of the little boy sitting there eating his food slowly while the world swirled around him. “I’m happy I could help,” she said, her voice warm but with a hint of finality, as though the conversation was wrapping up.

But just as Azzi turned to walk away, she felt a light, unexpected touch at her elbow. Paige’s fingers brushed against her skin, stopping her from walking away. The confident smirk never left her face, only now it seemed a little more certain.

“Lemme take you out,” Paige said smoothly, her blue eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “You know, to thank you.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued but also well aware of the kind of woman Paige was simply by how she carried herself. There was something about her—something that spoke volumes without her needing to say much. Azzi could tell that she was used to getting what she wanted with women, and something about that made Azzi want to make her work for it just a little more.

“Take me out, huh?” Azzi’s voice was laced with amusement, her lips curving into a slight smile.

Paige, unphased, nodded. “Yeah...you know, to properly thank you.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly as she gave Paige a once-over. Paige was very attractive, no denying that. Her tall frame, the way she carried herself, and that self-assured smile—it was all part of the appeal. But Azzi wasn’t about to give in that easily. She knew what Paige was implying, and while one night stands wasn’t Azzi’s thing, she found herself intrigued in a different way. She met Paige’s eyes, a spark of something unspoken passing between them.

“Coffee,” Azzi said simply.

Paige blinked, momentarily taken aback, though she hid it quickly. “Coffee?” she echoed, as if trying to process what Azzi had just suggested.

Azzi’s grin grew, a glimmer of challenge in her gaze. “Coffee,” she confirmed, her voice steady, eyes locked on Paige’s.

Paige’s lips twitched, her smirk softening into something a little more genuine, almost intrigued. She didn’t push it further. Instead, she let out a small surprised laugh.

“Alright…coffee it is,” Paige said, her voice smooth but with a quiet acknowledgment of the unusual challenge Azzi had just thrown her way.

Azzi, sensing that subtle shift in Paige’s gaze—something that told her she wasn't going to be as easy as Paige was used to—smiled to herself. She reached into her wallet, fingers grazing over the smooth surface of a business card, pulling it out. Flipping it over, she grabbed a pen from the counter and scribbled down her personal number.

Without a word, she handed the card to Paige, her fingers brushing against hers just for a moment. "You can text me," Azzi said.

Azzi turned to walk away, her body already angled toward the door when Paige’s voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“You never told me your name.”

Azzi paused for a brief second. A slight smirk danced on her lips, playful and a little enigmatic. She didn’t turn back to face Paige fully. Instead, with a casual motion, pointed at the card still resting in Paige’s hand. Without another word, she walked away.

Paige stood there, her brow furrowing in confusion for just a heartbeat, before she looked down at the card in her hand. Her fingers flipped it over, and her eyes scanned the text on the front.

"Azzi Fudd, DO – Private Sports Medicine Physician."

A small, amused smile spread across Paige’s face.

Azzi Fudd.

Paige’s smile deepened, a quiet breathy laugh slipping past her lips as she looked up, her gaze scanning the café for the woman who had already disappeared into the crowd. There was something about the way Azzi handled the whole situation that was a little out of Paige’s typical experience.

Shaking her head slightly, a smile still still tugging at the corners of her lips. She slipped the card into her pocket.

Paige turned back around to check on Lukas, who was sitting in the chair, deep in concentration, scribbling away at something on a piece of paper. Paige couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself, wondering just where he’d gotten that paper and pencil from.

She glanced down at his artwork, trying to make sense of it. The lines were haphazard, the shapes somewhat abstract. Paige tilted her head, her curiosity piqued as she tried to figure out what she was looking at.

“What you drawing dude?” she asked as she crouched down to get a better look.

Lukas looked up at her, his expression completely serious, like it should be clear as day what he was creating. “Ma, it’s a basketball hoop,” he said matter-of-factly, as if she should’ve known that from the start.

Paige raised an eyebrow at the drawing, her smile growing. The abstract shapes and squiggles started to make sense in her head now, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his imagination. “Oooh, yeah, I see it now,” she said, playing along with a grin as she exaggerated her acknowledgment, making him laugh with pride.

She scooped him up effortlessly, his small arms wrapping around her neck immediately. He let out a yawn and buried his face in her shoulder with a soft sigh. Paige smiled down at him and kissed his head before moving toward the door.

She caught sight of her security guard sitting at one of the tables near the entrance, doing his usual routine. He never looked too imposing, but that was part of the job—he blended in. He was always calm, always steady, and knew when to step in without making anyone feel uncomfortable.

Paige had always been a little protective of her sense of independence, even after hiring a security team when she got to the league. She had always been determined to keep the control of her life in her own hands. She still drove herself around whenever she could, enjoyed the simple privacy of a quick coffee run without the constant buzz of attention, and most of all, she never wanted her security guard to be too close, hovering nearby. It was one of the things that made her feel like herself—the ability to be just another person, moving through the world without the heaviness of fame always hanging over her.

Her security guard was great at his job. He knew when to blend into the background and when to step in to get her out of situations. Paige had learned to trust him over time—he was discreet, always in the right place at the right time, without being an obvious presence.

Paige glanced over at him. “We’re heading to the gym,” Paige said. He gave a quick nod as he stood up to follow.

Paige stepped out of the café, the door closing gently behind her security as he walked towards his vehicle. The early Dallas sunlight bathed her in a warm glow. She walked toward her car, her sneakers making soft sounds against the pavement as Lukas chatted away.

She unlocked the back door of her Jeep where Lukas’s car seat was waiting. As she opened the door and sat him in his seat, she asked with a teasing tone, “You can buckle it?”

Lukas stopped in his tracks, a look of almost exaggerated offense crossing his face. His wide blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if she’d just asked him the most ridiculous question.

With a huff, he promptly reached over and started to buckle himself into his car seat—no assistance needed. The little grunt of concentration made Paige smile as she leaned against the car, arms crossed as she watched him with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

“You’re so independent,” she muttered under her breath, but Lukas was clearly on a mission and didn’t hear her. Within seconds, he had the car seat secured, sitting up proudly in his seat as he looked at his mom as if saying ‘see.’

Paige shook her head, laughing softly. “My son is so sassy,” she muttered to herself with a small, fond smile. She gave a small tug on the buckle to make sure he did it correctly before kissing his head and shutting the door and walking to the driver's seat. Paige was used to it by now—the way Lukas was quick to show off his little bits of grown-up behavior, always full of surprises, always one step ahead of her in his own way.

…

Later that night, after her day had wound down, Paige sat on the couch in the living room, the quiet hum of a random game playing on the TV in the background. Lukas was sprawled out beside her, completely fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Paige took a moment to just look at him, her heart swelling with that familiar sense of calm that always followed after a long day of chaos.

Her gaze shifted to the table in front of her, where she had tossed the card earlier. Reaching for it, she flipped it over in her hands, her thumb grazing the edges before she grabbed her phone. She typed in the number on the back of the card, staring at the digits for a moment before tapping them into her messages.

She typed out a quick simple message: "So, about that coffee?"

Paige tossed her phone to the side before leaning back on the couch, eyes going back to the game on TV. Her phone buzzed a few minutes later, breaking her train of thought.

Paige scoffed when she saw the reply, and couldn’t help but grin. It read: “No introduction?”

She quickly typed back, tapping her fingers across the screen: “Didn’t think I needed one.”

The reply came almost immediately, and Paige’s grin grew. “Of course you didn’t.”

Paige chuckled and sat up a little straighter, then typed her response: “When are you free?”

She watched the screen for a moment, her fingers tapping lightly against her phone as she waited. A moment later, Azzi’s response popped up: “Thursday?”

Paige slid her thumb across her phone to open the calendar app, checking her schedule with a quick scan before going back to the message thread. She typed out: “I can do 11 Thursday.”

Azzi’s response was short and to the point: “Sounds good.”

For a moment, Paige paused. A thought struck her, and she smirked as she typed her next message: “So, what, I just gotta think about you for another day before I can thank you for helping my son?”

She hit send and set the phone down on the couch beside her, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she leaned back again. But it didn’t take long for Azzi’s response to come through, a quick and simple reply: “Seems that way.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, glancing at her phone. “Sounds kinda crazy to me,” she typed, a little smirk tugging at her lips as she sent it off.

She set the phone down again, turning her attention back to Lukas, who was still sound asleep beside her. Before she could drift too far into her thoughts, her phone buzzed once more. The message that appeared on the screen was brief and simple: “Goodnight, Paige.”

A genuine smile crossed Paige’s face at Azzi not playing into her antics. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips before she tossed her phone aside, letting it land gently on the couch. She moved quietly, scooping Lukas into her arms, his small body warm against her chest.

"Come on, little man," she whispered softly, cradling him as she stood up. She carried him to his room, the quiet rhythm of his breathing the only sound that filled the quiet house. Once she’d tucked him into bed, she kissed the top of his head gently, smoothing his hair back.

Paige stood for a moment, watching him before turning to leave the room.

…

When Thursday rolled around, Paige strolled into the café at around 10:55 AM, her steps steady and relaxed as she took in the familiar setting. The soft sound of music filled the air. As she walked further inside, her eyes immediately landed on Azzi. She wasn’t expecting her to be there before her, but there she was, already sitting at a table with her legs crossed as she looked down at her phone. Paige raised an eyebrow, half impressed, half surprised. Azzi looked perfectly at ease, even in the midst of the quiet bustle around her.

Paige’s security guard, always positioned with careful subtlety, took a seat near the door, his gaze scanning the room.

Paige made her way over to Azzi, a small smile tugging at her lips as she approached the table. Azzi’s eyes flicked to the guy that walked in with Paige, a subtle look of confusion crossing her face. Paige settled into the chair across from Azzi and shrugged lightly, her grin a little teasing.

“Security,” Paige said simply.

Azzi gave a small nod. “Ahh, okay.”

For a brief moment, there was a silence between them. Neither spoke, but they both seemed to take a moment to observe each other.

Paige cleared her throat, breaking the quiet, and leaned forward a bit. “Can I get you a coffee?”

Azzi smiled softly at the gesture, standing up gracefully. “We can go up together,” she said.

Paige nodded and stood up as well, the two of them heading toward the counter.

After they ordered their drinks, Paige and Azzi made their way to a booth in the back of the café instead of a regular table. The cozy corner felt more private, offering them a bit more space. They both sat across from one another, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The soft clinking of mugs and the low hum of background chatter filled the space.

Finally, Paige couldn't help but laugh, breaking the silence. “If you can’t tell, I’m not exactly used to this whole coffee date thing.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.” she said sarcastically, clearly a little amused by Paige’s admission.

Paige chuckled at the tone in Azzi’s voice, the subtle tension easing just a little. “Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just used to…other things.”

Azzi’s eyes glinted with curiosity, she leaned forward slightly. “What do you usually do with women, Paige?”

Before Paige could answer, Azzi added, her tone light but assertive, “And I’m someone who prefers honesty.”

Paige paused for a second, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. She liked this. Azzi wasn’t playing games. She didn’t want anything sugar-coated, and Paige appreciated that, maybe more than she expected to.

“Well,” Paige started, “usually, women aren’t all that interested in the dating aspect.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully. She took a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving Paige’s, studying her with that cool, almost calculating gaze. She set the cup down gently on the table, her fingers brushing against the porcelain as she leaned back slightly.

“I see,” Azzi finally said, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of curiosity. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze narrowing just a touch as she added, “And what were you looking for when you asked to take me out?”

Paige studied Azzi for a moment, taking in the way she carried herself with such quiet confidence. Her brown eyes were soft and inviting, yet still calculated, and the curly hair perfectly pulled out of her face added to the allure of her composure. There was something about the way Azzi held herself—it wasn’t like anyone else Paige had ever met.

A small chuckle escaped Paige’s lips as she shrugged, her shoulders moving in a casual semi playful gesture. It was the same move Lukas had made the other day. Azzi’s eyes softened as she took in Paige’s posture, realizing with a small smile that Lukas definitely got it from her.

Paige leaned back in her seat, studying Azzi for a moment, before answering in a more casual tone. “I wanted to thank the gorgeous woman in front of me for helping my son.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t change at first, but her eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something else. “So you wanted to sleep with me?” she asked bluntly.

Paige met Azzi’s gaze directly, her lips curling into a slight smile. “The thought is definitely on the table,” she said, speaking honestly, without any pretense.

Azzi picked up on the way Paige worded her response. “Is?” she repeated, the single word hanging in the air between them.

Paige hummed thoughtfully at the question, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah, is,” she said softly, her voice laced with a quiet confidence that matched Azzi’s own.

Though Azzi carried herself with a poise that was different from the women Paige was used to, there was something about her that Paige couldn’t place. Azzi was calm, composed, but Paige noticed the way Azzi crossed her legs a little more tightly as the conversation shifted. The subtle movement didn’t go unnoticed, and neither did the slight tightening of her throat, a small, almost imperceptible swallow that hinted at a shift in the dynamic.

Paige couldn’t help but smirk, a quiet acknowledgment passing between them without a word being spoken.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile as she met Paige’s gaze again , and then, with a slight tilt of her head, she said, “You’re attractive.”

Paige’s smile only deepened, her confidence never wavering as she responded, “I’m aware.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh. She leaned back slightly in her seat. “But I’m not sleeping with you after one coffee date.”

Paige paused for a moment, considering her words. She wasn’t used to hearing that—at least not in such a direct way. But there was something about Azzi’s honesty that Paige found appealing, something real and refreshing. Finally, she hummed, acknowledging the boundary without pushing. “That’s fair.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, her gaze steady, before asking with that same confidence, “Is that something you’re okay with?”

Paige took a deep breath, her mind running through a series of thoughts before she responded. She could appreciate that Azzi wasn’t playing games, that she wasn’t trying to hide her expectations. Paige took another beat, then added, “Let’s see how this first date goes.”

“That’s fair.”

After that the conversation flowed naturally between them, not forced but easy, the kind of conversation where the gaps in speech felt comfortable rather than awkward. Paige talked about basketball, the upcoming season, and the usual pre-season jitters that came with gearing up with a slightly different roster. She joked about the pressure of always having to be at her best, but Azzi could hear the underlying seriousness in her voice, the weight of a career built on constant performance.

Azzi shared her own experiences, talking about her work with athletes and how she approached sports medicine differently. She explained what a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine was—how she took a more holistic approach to treating injuries, focusing on the body as a whole rather than just isolating the injury. It was clear from the way she spoke that she was passionate about what she did, but Azzi wasn’t sure how much Paige would actually connect with it. After all, most athletes only cared about getting back on the court or field as quickly as possible, and they usually relied on standard physical therapy or rehab.

Much to her surprise, Paige was attentive, asking questions at just the right moments, listening intently. It wasn’t just idle small talk for her; she was engaged, processing what Azzi was saying and chiming in when something in particular piqued her interest. Azzi found herself intrigued by how naturally it came to Paige—how her curiosity and genuine interest seemed to draw out more of Azzi’s thoughts than she had expected to share.

On the other hand, Paige was pleasantly surprised at how much she didn’t mind listening to Azzi explain sports medicine. She had never considered herself the type to get into that side of things, but there was something about Azzi in general that made something that she would typically find a bore to be interesting.

In the middle of their conversation, as Paige was talking about something Azzi had asked her, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. A teenage girl had approached their booth hesitantly, and Paige paused mid-sentence. Her eyes softened as she caught the girl’s gaze, and a warm smile spread across her face. Azzi, still talking, didn’t notice at first, and the sudden change in Paige’s demeanor left her slightly confused.

The girl, her voice a bit shaky, asked, “Hi can I get a picture please?”

Paige stood up from the booth without hesitation, her smile never wavering. “Of course,” she said. The girl’s face lit up, and her excitement was palpable as she stepped closer to Paige. Her father, who had been standing a little off to the side, joined them, ready to take the photo.

Azzi watched the scene unfold. She saw how gentle Paige was in her interaction with the fan.

The father snapped the picture, and once he was done, he extended his hand with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. Huge fans,” he said.

Paige shook his hand with a smile. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone warm but brief, showing how accustomed to this routine she was. As the father and daughter turned to leave, Paige’s voice caught their attention one last time.

“Sorry to ask this,” she said, sounding a little apologetic. “But if you’re planning on posting that, could you wait a few hours until I’m gone? Just wanna enjoy the afternoon, you know?”

The father nodded understandingly. “No problem at all,” he said, and Paige smiled again, grateful.

“Thank you,” she said before turning back to the booth, easing herself back into the seat in front of Azzi, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping her as Paige settled back into her seat. “Not used to being the center of attention, huh?” she asked with a teasing grin.

Paige shook her head, smiling back at Azzi. “I’m used to it, just...sometimes it’s nice to have a day of peace.” She glanced at Azzi. “Sorry about that.”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re a big deal.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, a soft chuckle escaping her as she leaned back slightly. “You should see Lukas when kids approach me,” she began, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought about her son. “He used to get super jealous—until he realized I was his mom and not theirs. He still gets a little jealous now, but it’s better.”

Azzi smiled, the mention of Lukas bringing something a little lighter to the conversation. “That’s the first time you’ve talked about him today,” she observed, almost surprised.

Paige’s smile deepened. “Yeah, well… kids not exactly first date material,” she said with a slight laugh, as if the idea of talking about her son had never crossed her mind for this kind of setting.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving slightly. “I disagree,” she said.

Paige looked at her, a curious glint in her eyes. “Yeah?”

Azzi leaned in a bit, her gaze steady. “I mean, he’s a big part of your life, right?”

Paige nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah, he is.”

Azzi’s expression softened too, her voice carrying a subtle warmth. “Then he’s a part of getting to know you.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully, considering Azzi’s words for a moment. There was a quiet acknowledgment in the way her eyes flickered with a mix of emotions.

Azzi leaned in slightly, her voice inviting. “Tell me about him.”

Paige laughed lightly at the thought of him. “Oh, he’s a handful. Probably two handfuls, honestly,” she said, her smile turning a little more affectionate as she spoke about her son. “He’s smart, always getting into something but he probably gets that from me so I can’t even be upset.”

Azzi smiled. “He’s a cutie.”

This seemed to catch Paige’s attention, her smirk returning. “Hm, is that right?” she said.

Azzi rolled her eyes, recognizing exactly what Paige was implying. “I already told you I thought you were attractive,” she said.

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, a small smirk curling at the corner of her lips. She was about to reply when Azzi’s tone shifted, something more serious slipping in. “Can I ask you something?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, giving her an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “Lukas is clearly biologically yours,” she began, her gaze steady but gentle, as if she was treading carefully.

Paige immediately caught on to the unspoken question, her expression softening. She leaned back slightly, a quiet honesty in her voice. “My ex gave birth to him using my egg.”

Azzi nodded slowly, processing the information. Paige continued, “I have sole custody of him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

The air between them shifted, Azzi’s curiosity evident but respectful. “So you don’t have any contact with her anymore, I’m assuming?”

Paige’s eyes darkened slightly, but her response was straightforward. “No.”

Azzi nodded again, a sign of understanding, and didn’t press further as she shifted the conversation back to something lighter.

Their coffee date wrapped up a little while later, both of them glancing at the time as they realized how quickly it had flown by. Azzi had a client scheduled, and Paige had practice waiting for her, the familiar weight of their responsibilities pulling them back into their respective worlds.

As they stood up from the booth, a quiet but comfortable understanding lingered between them. Azzi reached for her bag, giving Paige a small, warm smile. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to your day.”

Paige nodded, returning the smile with a softness in her eyes. “Yeah, practice is calling.” She paused, then added, “But this was nice.”

Azzi’s smile widened just a bit. “It was. Maybe we should do it again sometime?”

Paige smirked at this question, “So I wasn’t too arrogant?”

Azzi laughs saying, “Just enough apparently.”

Paige huffed out a laugh saying, “I’ll text you.”

Azzi gave a soft smile. “I look forward to it.” With that she headed toward the door where her driver was waiting to take her to the clinic.

They didn’t exactly plan when or where their second date would happen, but neither of them seemed worried about it.

…

After that day the two of them hadn’t seen one another in some time. Their busy schedules made it hard for them to find time to meet up again. Still they had kept in contact. They had been texting and even had a few phone calls here and there as they got to know one another.

One evening Azzi sat at the bar, sipping on a cocktail and enjoying the women in sports gala around her. The atmosphere was lively, with people mingling, but she wasn’t as interested in the small talk as some others were. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone she knew, but when she saw Paige walking toward the complimentary bar, her attention was immediately drawn.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, observing the scene. Paige’s stride was confident as she approached the bar, her simple presence commanding attention even in a crowd of people. The bartender greeted her with an overly flirtatious smile, her body language completely different than when she served anyone else. Paige gave her a tight, polite smile in return, but it was clear she wasn’t interested.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile. She hadn’t expected to see Paige here, but now that she had, she found herself happy to see her again. Azzi reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, typing a message.

You clean up nice.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, watching Paige as she stood at the bar, the bartender handing her a drink. Paige glanced down at her phone, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Azzi watched the gears turn in her head as she scanned the room. A few moments passed before their eyes locked across the space.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Paige’s lips as she made eye contact with Azzi and raised her eyebrow. Azzi’s pulse quickened just a little, amused by the unspoken challenge. Paige thanked the bartender, tossing a generous tip down before turning toward Azzi.

Azzi stood up from her seat. Before she could say anything, Paige closed the distance between them and leaned in for a quick hug. Azzi didn’t miss the way Paige’s eyes scanned her up and down once they pulled apart—quick, but thorough. Azzi could almost hear the assessment happening behind that sly smirk.

Paige sat down next to Azzi, adjusting her drink in her hand as she got settled.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, her smile softening. "I see you finally noticed me," she teased before she took another sip of her cocktail.

Paige’s eyes met hers as she replied, "Well, you weren't hard to miss. You look amazing.”

Azzi smiled at the compliment, her own eyes giving Paige a once over as she settled next to her. It felt like an unspoken game, both of them sizing each other up without quite saying the obvious. The tension was there. Neither of them had to try too hard to make it noticeable.

“You, enjoying the event?” Azzi asked.

Paige leaned back, looking around the venue before sighing. “Honestly? Hell no. I been bored all night. Networking, small talk, you know the drill. I’d rather be on the court.”

Azzi nodded, understanding immediately. “I get that. It’s hard to get invested in something that feels ingenuine.”

Paige’s lips quirked. “Exactly. But, I’m here, so... might as well make the best of it. Paige pauses for a second smoothly scooting closer to Azzi as she adds, “I think I can have a pretty good time now though.”

Azzi playfully rolls her eyes at this. She had gotten used to Paige’s non stop flirting in the past two weeks. Azzi mumbles, “Whatever.”

Paige chuckled lightly, swirling the ice in her drink before taking another sip. "So," she started, leaning back in her seat and eyeing Azzi with a grin. "What do you do for fun, when you're not, you know, saving athletes from ourselves and texting me at ungodly hours asking about my day?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow, at the question. "First of all, you like it. Second, If I’m being honest, I don’t really get a lot of time for ‘fun,’” she said with a soft laugh. “But when I do give myself a break, I like to get out of the city, maybe take a short trip somewhere.

“Where you like to go?”

Azzi thought about it for a second before saying, “Well you know I like nature so anywhere that doesn’t have light pollution honestly. Somewhere quiet.”

Paige hummed at Azzi’s answer, swirling the ice in her drink. “That actually sounds nice,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve seen real stars in years.”

Azzi tilted her head. “What, not even on the road? Some of those late-night flights gotta give you a decent view.”

Paige let out a short laugh. “Maybe, but I’m usually either knocked out or too busy watching film for the next game to notice.” She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I went on an actual vacation. Between the WNBA season, Unrivaled, endorsement events, Lukas, and whatever else gets thrown my way… there’s barely any downtime.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, catching something in Paige’s tone that felt just a little heavier than her usual confident energy. “That sounds exhausting,” she said, voice softer. “Do you ever give yourself a chance to just… stop? Even for a second?”

Paige scoffed, leaning back in her seat. “Not really. If I’m not playing, I’m training. If I’m not training, I’m doing media. If I’m not doing media, I’m at some event pretending to care about small talk.” She motioned toward the room with a light laugh, but there was an underlying truth there—one Azzi could see past the bravado.

Azzi tapped her fingers against her glass thoughtfully. “You ever think about forcing yourself to take a break? Even just for a couple days?”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her. “And do what?”

Azzi shrugged. “I don’t know… go somewhere with no cameras, no schedule, no pressure. Just exist for a bit.”

Paige looked at her, a flicker of something in her expression before she smirked. “You offering to be my getaway guide?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just saying, if you ever decide to escape for a second, I could give you some ideas.”

Paige held her gaze for a moment before smiling. “Noted.” She took another sip of her drink, then nudged Azzi lightly with her shoulder. “Alright, next question. If you had a weekend off, no responsibilities, no distractions—what’s your ideal way to spend it?”

Azzi leaned back, considering the question. “Easy. A cabin in the mountains, a fire going, no phone, and maybe a book I’ve been meaning to read.”

Paige smirked. “No phone, huh? You’d survive without texting me at midnight?”

Azzi shot her a look, shaking her head with a laugh. “I think I’d manage.”

Paige hummed, tilting her head as if imagining it. “Sounds kinda nice. Maybe I need to consider that too..”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you do.”

Their eyes lingered on each other for a beat longer than necessary before Paige let out a small chuckle and looked down toward her drink.

“And what about you?” Azzi asked, tilting her head slightly. “I remember you saying Lukas is obsessed with building things.”

Paige chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Yeah, I got him his own little tool set and everything. The other day, he convinced me he needed a bigger bed just because he wanted to help build something.”

Azzi laughed, setting her drink down. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger.”

Paige sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “Unfortunately,” she mumbled, though the small smile on her face gave her away.

Azzi smirked. “But I guess this means you’re good at putting things together?”

Paige shrugged. “Yeah, I’m pretty handy around the house.”

Azzi hummed, tapping a finger against her glass. “So I know who to call when I need something built.”

Paige turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you were still in the building stage of a house you’ve lived in for years.”

Azzi shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “I’m not. But who knows…I was thinking about getting a new entertainment system.”

Paige hummed at the insinuation, her lips twitching into a smirk as she leaned in slightly. “If you want me to come over, you can just ask.”

Azzi took a small sip of her drink before saying, “So, you're open to coming over?”

Paige huffed out a laugh, a glint in her eyes. “I thought we both knew that already.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. “I mean, you never really brought it up again after the last time we texted. I just assumed that boat sailed.”

Paige’s lips quirked as she raked her eyes over Azzi’s frame slowly. “Definitely hasn’t sailed.”

For a moment, they both seemed to consider the implications of the words they just exchanged. The air between them a little thick with unspoken tension. They held each other’s gaze, neither of them needing to say much more, as if they both knew exactly where this was heading.

Then, as if on cue, Paige’s phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping them both out of the brief spell. Paige sighed, almost reluctantly breaking eye contact as she pulled the phone out, her expression shifting as she saw Drew’s name on the screen.

She swiped to answer, and immediately, the sound of Lukas’ cries echoed through the speaker. Paige tensed, her whole demeanor changing instantly. “Drew, what the hell is going on?” she asked.

Drew’s voice was frantic, a little apologetic. “I wasn’t looking for like two seconds, and he fell off the stool at the island. His hand’s pretty bad, Paige. He’s crying his eyes out and he’s asking for you. I swear it was only two seconds, I'm sorry.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat as she clenched her jaw, trying to stay calm. “I told you he couldn’t fucking sit there, Drew,” she muttered, her voice laced with frustration. Drew apologized profusely before asking if he should take Lukas to the ER.

“No, I'll do it. I’m on my way,” Paige said, hanging up quickly. She turned to Azzi, her face drawn with concern. “I’m sorry I have to go. Lukas hurt his wrist and I have to take him to the emergency room.”

Azzi’s eyes widened slightly with immediate concern. “I can look at it if you’d like?” she offered without hesitation.

“Really?” Paige asked, her tone softening.

Azzi nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

Azzi set the glass down on the bar with a soft clink. She turned to Paige, who had already started rising from her seat.

Paige smiled at her, though there was a subtle tension in her posture, a quiet nervous energy she hadn’t shown since they’d met. Azzi caught it immediately. "Ready?" Paige asked, glancing down at her phone again, probably hoping for an update on Lukas.

“Yeah,” Azzi replied, giving Paige a reassuring smile. As they both started walking toward the exit, Azzi noticed how Paige’s pace had quickened as they neared the valet area.

When they reached the valet stand, Paige handed over her ticket. Paige’s nerves were palpable and Azzi noticed her chewing lightly on her bottom lip.

For the first time, Azzi saw the cracks in Paige’s usual confident demeanor. It was an interesting sight, seeing the athlete, usually so poised and composed, so visibly tense. Azzi caught her eye, her voice soft but steady. “Hey.”

Paige met her gaze, blinking, and then looking away. “Hm?”

Azzi stepped closer, her voice calm. “He’ll be fine,” she reassured her. “I promise.”

Paige sighed, her breath a little shaky as she checked her phone again. “I know…I just hate when I’m not there with him when something happens,” she admitted.

Azzi gave her a small, sympathetic smile. Paige noticed how Azzi’s arms had goosebumps from the breeze, her dress not quite enough to shield her from the night chill. Without thinking, Paige slipped off her suit jacket and draped it over Azzi’s shoulders.

Azzi froze for a moment, clearly surprised by the action. She glanced at Paige, her fingers instinctively running over the fabric of the jacket. The warmth from Paige’s body lingered in the material, her scent clinging to the fabric, and Azzi couldn’t ignore the small smile that tugged at her lips. There was something comforting about the action, the quiet care behind it.

"Thanks," Azzi said softly, her voice quieter than usual as she pulled the jacket tighter around herself.

Paige smiled in return, her lips curling up at the corners. “No problem,” she replied, her voice warmer than it had been moments before.

Paige smiled in return, her lips curling up at the corners, though it was a soft, almost vulnerable smile. “No problem,” she replied, her voice warmer than it had been moments before. A second later, the valet pulled up with Paige’s car. Paige walked toward it and opened the passenger door for Azzi.

The gesture once again caught Azzi by surprise, a small but meaningful one that made her chest warm. She knew Paige was worried about her son, likely running through a million thoughts in her head, yet she still made the effort to open the door for her. It wasn’t much, but it meant something.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispered as she slid into Paige’s car. Her words were quiet, but genuine, carrying a touch of warmth that mirrored what she felt in her chest.

Paige nodded and softly shut the door, her hand lingering on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. Then, she walked around the car, giving the valet a tip as she got into the driver’s side. As the door clicked shut Paige put on her seatbelt and adjusted her grip on the wheel before pulling away from the valet stand.

…

As the car came to a stop in front of Paige’s large driveway, Azzi had very little time to process just how beautiful the house was before she and Paige were getting out of the car and heading toward the door. The space was impressive, a blend of modern elegance with a sense of warmth, but Azzi didn’t have much time to linger on the details.

As soon as they stepped inside, Azzi could hear small, almost pitiful whimpers coming from the living room.She instinctively followed Paige as she led the way down the hallway. The moment they reached the living room, Lukas' eyes locked onto Paige, and his face lit up with a mix of relief and sadness.

The boy reached up for his mom, his blue eyes welling with tears again immediately. Paige easily scooped him up into her arms, holding him close, and let him rest his head against her neck. Azzi watched the way Paige instinctively soothed Lukas, rubbing a gentle hand along his back.

Paige had rolled the sleeves of her dress shirt up on the drive over, the cuffs left undone, a casual detail that gave her an even more relaxed appearance. But now, with Lukas in her arms, Azzi couldn’t stop herself from noticing how effortless it all seemed. The way she moved, the way she was comforting her son—it was magnetic, and Azzi was acutely aware of how attracted to Paige she felt in that moment.

Paige sat down on the couch, cradling Lukas in her lap, her hands gently rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down. The small boy whimpered slightly, still upset, his eyes swollen from the earlier tears. Paige leaned down to look at him as she spoke.

“Can you let Azzi look at your wrist, buddy?” she asked. Lukas’s eyes welled with fresh tears at the mention of someone touching his injury. He shook his head a little, clearly reluctant to have anyone near it.

Paige sighed softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek in an effort to soothe him. “Remember what I told you about being tough, even when you don’t want to?” she said, her voice steady, but full of warmth. Lukas hesitated for a moment, his pout deepening, but after a few seconds, he nodded slowly.

Paige smiled at him reassuringly. “This is one of those times, okay? But I’m going to be right here with you while she looks at it.” She made sure her voice was steady, offering him comfort in the midst of his hesitation.

Lukas sniffled but nodded again, still clinging to his mom. Azzi smiled sympathetically as she walked over to the couch, reaching for Paige’s jacket. She carefully slid it off her shoulders before draping it over the back of the couch. She then took a seat in front of Lukas and smiled at him sweetly, hoping to put him at ease.

“Hi, handsome,” Azzi said warmly.

Lukas’s face lit up for a brief moment, and Azzi caught the faintest hint of a grin forming on his lips. But before he could fully show it, he blushed shyly, quickly ducking his face into Paige’s chest, hiding from Azzi.

Paige’s jaw dropped slightly and she looked down at her son who was hiding in her chest. “No way, you just made my son blush,” she said.

Azzi laughed. “I’m pretty, what can I say?” she responded, raising an eyebrow with a confident smile.

Paige couldn't do anything but laugh as she continued to stroke Lukas’s hair.

Azzi refocused as Lukas peeked at her from behind Paige, his attention now on her. Azzi leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle. "I’m just going to take a quick look at your wrist, okay?"

Lukas nodded, though his face still held a trace of uncertainty. Azzi reached for his hand gently, unwrapping the makeshift wrap with careful hands. As she finished undoing the wrap, she set it aside before giving Lukas a soft, reassuring smile. “If anything hurts, can you tell me?” she asked.

Lukas nodded, and Azzi could see that he was trying to be brave, even if his little body still trembled here and there. She smiled at him again, her tone soft and still as patient as ever as she moved slower than usual. “You’re doing great.”

Azzi began near his elbow, gently squeezing the area there and watching for any signs of discomfort. When Lukas didn’t flinch or pull away, she continued to slowly move down his arm.

When she finally reached his wrist, she squeezed the red, portion carefully, her eyes immediately noticing the small flinch from Lukas. He whimpered, trying to pull his hand away, but Azzi was quick to adjust, maintaining a gentle hold to keep him from fully pulling away.

“Hey, Lukas,” she said softly. “Can you move your hand like this for me?” Azzi demonstrated by making a small motion with her own wrist, gesturing for him to follow.

Lukas hesitated for a second before slowly mimicking the motion with his own wrist, wincing slightly as he did so. Azzi watched carefully. “Good job,” she praised him before instructing, “Now, can you move it in the opposite direction like this?”

Lukas’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded and followed her lead, turning his wrist in the opposite direction, though more slowly this time. Azzi’s smile widened slightly as she observed how brave he was being, even if it wasn’t easy for him.

“Look at you, tough guy,” she whispered, still holding his hand gently as she kept a watchful eye on his reactions.

Azzi smiled warmly at Lukas, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “All done,” she said softly. She glanced up at Paige. “He’ll be fine. He just needs a little ice.”

Paige looked at Azzi with a hint of disbelief, as if she was searching for more confirmation. “Really?” she asked.

Azzi nodded. “Yes, really. It’s just a little sore. Nothing serious.”

Paige let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension drained from her body. “Thank god,” she muttered, a relieved laugh slipping from her lips. She looked down at Lukas, who had calmed down a little, his small hands still clutching her.

“Dude, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Paige teased as she gently ruffled his hair. Lukas let out a small giggle, a faint smile creeping onto his face.

Paige’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Can you say thank you to Azzi?” she prompted, guiding Lukas’s attention back to the woman who had just helped him.

Lukas hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting up to meet Azzi’s. The instant their gazes locked, his cheeks flushed bright red. He quickly ducked his head, burying his face into Paige’s chest again.

Paige froze, staring at Lukas for a moment in shock. She’d never seen him act shy like this before. Lukas was always the confident little charmer, always trying to impress girls. But now, here he was, hiding in her chest, blushing like a little kid. It took her completely off guard.

Before she could say anything, Drew, sitting across the room with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I think Luke has a little crush."

Lukas’s head whipped around instantly, his eyes wide with shock, and he yelled, “No!” at the top of his lungs, his face now a deeper shade of red.

Drew chuckled. “Nah, it’s okay, man,” he teased, leaning back on the couch. “We all get crushes.”

Lukas was having none of it. He jumped off Paige’s lap, completely ignoring the pain in his wrist now as he rushed towards Drew, fists raised.

“Hey, hey, careful!” Drew laughed, raising his hands defensively. But Lukas was determined, throwing playful punches at his uncle, clearly more upset about the teasing than the injury.

Paige, still sitting on the couch, watched the little scuffle unfold, but when she saw Lukas’s hands flying, her tone became more serious. “What did I tell you about hitting?” she asked firmly.

Lukas froze mid-swing, his little arms still outstretched in the air, and his eyes widened as he realized he’d crossed the line.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” he mumbled, dropping his hands and looking down at the floor, a little embarrassed.

Paige sighed, but the edge in her voice softened as she gently pulled him back into her lap. “It’s okay, but you know better than that. We don’t solve problems with our fists,” she said softly, brushing a hair away from his face. “Can you apologize to Uncle Drew now?”

Lukas gave Drew a look of mild defiance but reluctantly said, “Sorry, Uncle Drew.”

Drew chuckled, his hands up in mock surrender. “No worries, buddy. Just don’t go knocking me out, alright?”

Realizing she hadn't introduced them, Paige quickly turned to Azzi, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Oh, Azzi, this is Drew, my brother. Drew, this is Azzi," she said, gesturing between the two of them.

Drew smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you," Azzi said politely, her eyes flicking to the little boy in Paige’s lap.

Drew nodded at Azzi. "The pleasure’s mine," he said, before shifting his attention back to Lukas, who was now squirming in Paige’s lap. Without missing a beat, Drew scooped Lukas up, holding him upside down. "Alright, Imma go finish my uncle duties and get this dude ready for bed."

Lukas let out a dramatic screech, kicking his legs as Drew playfully dangled him. “No! Not bed!” Lukas whined, but Drew just chuckled, walking toward the stairs with Lukas hanging upside down in his arms.

Paige laughed at their antics, shaking her head. “Y'all are crazy,” she yelled after them.

Turning her attention back to Azzi, Paige exhaled a relieved sigh. “Thank you, really. I didn’t know what I’d do without you tonight,” she said.

Azzi gave her a soft smile, nodding. "No problem at all. I’m just glad I could help.”

Paige leaned back into the couch, her shoulders relaxing. “I owe you one,” she added, her gaze lingering on Azzi a little longer this time.

Azzi caught the look, and for a second, the playful tension between them reappeared. "I’m sure I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me," Azzi teased, her soft smile still on her face.

Paige tilted her head, smirking in return. "Oh, yeah?" she asked.

Azzi hummed.

“Like what?”

Azzi’s gaze dropped just briefly to Paige's lips, a small spark of something passing between them. Paige noticed the subtle shift and leaned in just slightly, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s, her finger brushing lightly against Azzi's shoulder as she waited for an answer.

Azzi's breath hitched slightly, but she pulled back, her eyes still locked onto Paige's. "Like getting me home safely," she said, her voice soft.

Paige threw her head back against the couch with a soft laugh, running her hands down her face. After a beat, she sat up again, turning her attention back to Azzi with a smirk that was impossible to miss.

"Getting you home safely, huh?" Paige said, her tone a little more teasing now, her eyes gleaming with that signature confidence.

Azzi met her gaze, her lips curling into a subtle smile. "Mhm," she confirmed, the warmth in her voice matching the look in her eyes.

"I think I can handle that."

With that, Paige stood and offered Azzi a hand to help her up from the couch. Azzi took it, feeling the small jolt of energy from the touch. She started to rise, but before she could, Paige’s next words stopped her in her tracks.

"You sure I can’t give you a tour before we head out?" Paige’s question was smooth, casual, but there was an edge to it. The way Paige’s blue eyes sparkled made it clear that she wasn’t just offering a tour of the house.

Azzi was about to agree, the invitation on the tip of her tongue, but then she caught that smirk on Paige’s face—the way she was looking at her. They both knew what would happen if Paige led her into her bedroom, and Azzi wasn’t sure she was quite ready for that leap—at least, not tonight.

"I think I’ll pass on that," Azzi said, her tone light and teasing, her eyes dancing with the same playful energy.

Paige raised an eyebrow, that glint still lingering in her expression. "Mm, okay." Then she gently placed her hand on Azzi’s lower back. The contact sent a ripple of warmth through Azzi’s body, and she felt the pressure of Paige’s palm guiding her toward the door.

Without another word, Paige led her out of the house, the night air surrounding them as they walked to the car. Neither of them spoke immediately, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable.

As they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi, her hand lingering just a little longer than necessary on her back.

Azzi smiled softly, her heart racing a little faster than it probably should have as she sat in the passenger seat. Paige gently shut the door before she walked around to the driver's side. As Azzi waited, she couldn't help but glance out the window, her eyes landing on the two other cars in the driveway.

Paige noticed the shift in her attention, and spoke up. "I use that one," she nodded toward the blackout jeep, "when I'm taking Lukas with me. Has his car seat in it."

Azzi nodded, her gaze following Paige's hand as she gestured to the car they were in. "And this one?" Azzi asked.

Paige smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to show off a little. "This one’s got a better tint and it’s faster," she explained. "I use it for events and things like that." She paused, her eyes meeting Azzi's. "Keeps things a little more private."

Azzi raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Private, huh?" she teased, as she considered the implications of that.

Paige's lips curved into a smile of her own. "Well," she said, her tone shifting to something a little more flirtatious, "you never know who might be watching."

Azzi couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something about the way Paige carried herself—confident, self-assured, but still a little obnoxious—that Azzi found undeniably magnetic. It was hard to ignore the chemistry between them anytime they spoke.

Azzi simply shrugged, keeping the mood light. "Guess I'll have to keep that in mind," she replied, her gaze lingering on Paige for a moment longer than she intended.

Paige chuckled softly, shaking her head as she shifted the car into drive. The drive to Azzi’s place was smooth, the low hum of the engine and the occasional soft exchange of words filling the space. The atmosphere between them felt comfortable, even with the unspoken tension lingering in the air.

When they finally pulled up to Azzi's place, Paige parked the car, and before Azzi could even reach for the door handle, Paige was already walking around to the passenger side. She opened the door for her as she extended a hand to help Azzi out.

Azzi smiled and placed her hand in Paige’s. “Thank you again,” she said softly, the sincerity in her voice clear.

Paige gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. She followed Azzi up the path to her door, her footsteps quiet beside Azzi’s heels clicking against the pavement as they approached the front steps. Once they reached the door, Paige paused, leaning back against the railing.

“Thank you for your help… again,” Paige said. There was a certain softness to her voice that made the words feel more personal than just a simple thanks.

Azzi glanced at Paige, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she stepped a little closer, the sharp click of her heels against the pavement adding a rhythmic sound to the quiet of the night as her perfume filled Paige’s senses at the proximity.

“No problem,” Azzi replied with a small smile, her voice just as soft as before. She took a small step closer, her gaze never leaving Paige's face.

Paige felt a surge of warmth, a quiet pull between them that made her a little excited. She kept her hands in her pockets, not moving but fully aware of how close Azzi had gotten.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, just standing there, the space between them filled with something that neither could name.

Azzi's voice broke the quiet moment. "So, about that second date?" She paused, watching Paige carefully. "What's your schedule like?"

Paige pulled her phone out of her pocket, flicking through her calendar. She turned the screen toward Azzi with a half smile.

Azzi accepted the phone gently, her fingers brushing against Paige’s as she did so. She pulled out her own phone and began comparing their schedules, the two of them silent for a few moments as she browsed through the information. When she found a time that worked for both of them, she tapped in the details and then, without asking, added it to Paige's calendar.

Paige watched with an amused grin as Azzi took charge of the timing. "You didn’t even ask," Paige said playfully.

Azzi looked up, catching the glint in Paige’s eye, and shrugged with a soft smile. "I’m just being efficient," she replied, handing the phone back.

Paige glanced at her phone, noticing that Azzi had put the date for the day after tomorrow. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she locked the phone and slid it back into her pocket.

Azzi spoke, her voice quieter, almost grateful. "Thank you for getting me home safely."

Paige's smile softened as she met Azzi’s gaze. "Anytime," she replied, her words almost too easy, as if the offer to look out for Azzi was something she genuinely wanted to give.

Azzi bit her lip, clearly holding back something, before she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Paige's cheek. The action was quick but warm, and it sent a small shock of heat through Paige’s chest. "Goodnight, Paige," Azzi whispered.

"Goodnight, Azzi," Paige responded, her voice lower than usual. The moment lingered between them as they hugged, Azzi’s arms wrapping around Paige’s shoulders, and Paige’s arms gently pulling Azzi closer by the waist.

Azzi watched as Paige turned to walk toward her car, her eyes following every step. Paige stopped before getting in the car and leaned over the driver’s side door slightly, her voice cutting through the night air.

"I'll pick you up on Wednesday?"

Azzi’s smile grew at the offer. "You’ll pick me up Wednesday," she said.

Paige nodded, watching as Azzi unlocked her door and stepped inside before getting in her car and driving off.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

322 notes · View notes

littelovelunette · 2 days ago

Note

heyy, could I request one where sevika keeps making fun of reader for "not using their brain" and things like that because they feel comfortable around her and end up acting kinda stupid, but it really hurts their feelings and they end up breaking down?

Common Sense

Sevika x Fem!Reader

You and Sevika were so comfortable with each other that you often let your mind wander. That made you get clumsy, brain foggy and stupid.

But Sevika never minded it, instead it was funny to her and she called you a dumbass because of it. In fact, Sevika found it so endearing.

You were so lovestruck by her, you didn't care to really think it through. All the "Stupid"s, "Idiot"s and other insults she threw your way always flied over your head.

You didn't care. Didn't used to. It was one of those days you felt dumber than usual.

You were trying to make sense of Sevika's gambling as she placed her cards with ease, stacking pocker chips relentlessly.

After a while of staring you decided to ask her. "Baby, how do you play that?" You asked.

"Oh you wanna learn?" Sevika asked, her tone taking on slight condescension but also mixed with affection that you failed to catch.

"Mhm..." You looked up at her, shifting close so your thigh was touching hers.

Sevika smirked, leaning back in her chair as she shuffled the deck effortlessly.

"Alright, I'll teach you, but don't expect me to go easy on you," she said, her voice laced with amusement. She slid a few chips toward you before dealing out two cards face down.

"You start with two cards," she said, nodding toward yours. "The goal is to make the best five-card hand using these and the ones I put in the center." She tapped the table before continuing.

You peeked at your cards, then back at her. "Okay… but how do I know if my hand is good?"

Sevika's smirk twitched, her brow raising like she couldn't believe you were asking. "Are you serious?" she scoffed. "You’ve never played poker before?"

You shook your head, and she sighed albeit a bit dramatically, rubbing her temple. "Damn. Alright, listen up, genius." She leaned forward, tapping your cards. "Pairs are good. Three of a kind is better. A straight is five numbers in a row. A flush means all the same suit. Full house? Three of a kind plus a pair."

She studied your expression for a moment before scoffing again. "You're really struggling with this, huh?" Her voice was teasing, but the way her lips curled into an amused smirk made your face heat up.

"This is, like, common sense, babe. You gotta use that brain of yours."

Flipping over three cards in the middle of the table, she continued, "This is the flop. Now you figure out if these help your hand or not. But don't just stare at them like they’ll speak to you." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Poker ain't just about the cards. It’s about reading people."

Her grey eyes locked onto yours, sharp with amusement. "And right now? You look like a fish trying to do algebra."

You knew the tears were building behind your eyes and you saw by the corner of your eyes that Silco's men were approaching the table seeing Sevika.

It was a perfect excuse to leave now.

"I-I'm gonna go home, this poker stuff is really getting to my brain." You said, voice wavering a little which gave away the clear hurt in you.

Sevika caught onto it, eyebrows furrowing. She wanted to say something but didn't want to push you too hard in public.

"I'll see you tonight." You said, eyes glossy before you turned and stalked off. Sevika stared where your figure had disappeared through the exit, one hand raised as if she would've grabbed your wrist but then she retracted her hand.

You hadn't even kissed her goodbye.

When you reached home, you had a complete breakdown and cried in bed for hours before eventually deciding on just eating ice-cream until Sevika got back.

You were in bed with a spoon in hand, deep asleep snoring softly against the bedsheets with the empty tub of ice-cream beside you.

Sevika unlocked the door and stepped inside frowning because you would usually jump at her and tell her how much you had missed her.

But there was no sign of you today.

She cautiously walked inside the bedroom and then her heart almost melted seeing your adorable state.

Sure— some would say it was messy and gross the way you were snoring, drooling and eating ice-cream in bed— but to Sevika it was equivalent to a baby kitten snuggled and asleep.

Sevika took off her clothes until she was left in a tanktop and shorts. She walked closer, gently prying the spoon out of your small hand. She moved the empty tub of ice-cream away.

"Baby." She called softly pulling you into her lap after she got in bed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Mmm..?" You sleepily blinked up at her. "Forget it. I'm too sad to be mad."

"Which is why I'm apologising. I'm sorry baby I didn't mean you were that dumb. You're just... Silly." This time when Sevika said it, she was being playful and you knew it. The little curve at the corner of her lips gave it away.

You hit her.

"Don't you dare." You pouted.

Sevika chuckled and brought you close to her chest. "Never stop being stupid around me. You're all I have left. And I'm genuinely..." Sevika paused. "Afraid to lose you." She finished with somewhat great difficulty admitting she was scared of something for once.

"Nothing bad's gonna happen." You kissed her and she returned it.

209 notes · View notes

possesseddesiress · 2 days ago

Text

Brother's Issues

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Brother's Issues (English Version)

My older brother was infuriating. A guy with more ego than brains, but who had such an enviable body that it further reinforced his smug attitude.

The fights in my house were constant, the idiot left his clothes all over the place and hardly showered! He was always bragging about his "man smell"; and of course, being the oldest, my parents let him do whatever he wanted. He always got away with it, and I could only die of envy.

Mark was the big brother while I just made do with the scraps, I don't think I'm unattractive, but when you compare a river to the sea, clearly the sea is going to win.

He always got everyone's attention: teachers, family, even my ex-boyfriends; even if he wasn't gay, they always ended up confessing to me that what they wanted was to be near him.

And I was fed up.

I had been lost on the Internet for at least two hours in the wee hours of the morning, not seeing anything interesting until an email seemed to arrive.

"Want to be someone else? Read this email."

The first thing I did was close the message. It was ridiculous, sure it was some kind of spam mail. But the more time passed, an extra curiosity began to tingle in me, until I couldn't take it anymore. I ended up opening it and reading it.

It had a series of instructions on how to prepare a concoction with rather curious ingredients, but that would cause two people to change their bodies when they drank it.

Again I thought it was all stupidity, when I heard something crashing again and again against my wall from my brother's room, and the excited screams of a girl who was probably his fling today, like almost every night.

I had reached my limit.

The next morning, I set about gathering all the ingredients, until I finally came up with the last one: the other person's sweat, I thought it would be difficult, but I remembered that my brother left his sweaty underwear everywhere in the house. That morning, he was out, so I thought it would be easy to sneak into his room to steal some boxers.

No sooner had I entered his room than I had filled my nostrils with a pungent odor, the whole stench of my brother was quite strong. It looked like he hadn't cleaned his room in years and it just smelled like sweat and his fluids, it stank...

I was going through his dirty clothes when I heard the thunder of the wood on his door, my skin crawled, expecting a knock. But my brother wasn't standing in the frame, but his best friend: Theo.

— What are you doing here, buddy?

Theo was a nice guy, I didn't know how he was friends with my brother. His blond hair was silky, his smile was bright...

And I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember.

I didn't know if it was because he treated me well, because he was a good person and kind, or all together. But gosh, he sure drove me crazy.

— N-nothing. I was about to pick up Mark's laundry.

— Is he making you do his laundry again?

I swallowed hard right then and there.

— Uh, yeah, yeah.

— Let me help you.

He came over to me to lift the basket and carry it to the laundry room, my heart was beating fast.

I didn't know if it was because I was afraid Mark would come in at any moment and notice the absence of his sweaty clothes, or if it was from being with Theo.

— Well, buddy, there's the laundry. I'll wait for your brother in his room, see you.

He waved his hands, disappearing. As soon as he left, I dived into the pile of stinky clothes, trying to find the freshest thing possible. I grabbed a pair of red underpants, they felt wet and smelly, I tried not to smell them but ended up stuffing them in my face. Soon that would be my smell...

I gathered the rest of the ingredients, prepared it in a jar and when I squeezed the sweat out of it, I swear I saw how it shined.

I let it sit until the next morning. I knew my brother was going out to work out as usual, so I always prepared his protein for the gym; before he went out, I opened the glass to pour half of the liquid and run back to my room.

The rest of the time passed slowly, I didn't know whether to drink the rest of the concoction, what if something went wrong, what if I ended up doing something bad to my brother?

Thousands of questions tormented me, but I caught a glimpse of my brother's body: Tall, stocky, with his stinky armpits, his strong legs, how his arms swelled or his big pecs. All that could be mine, at last not just the puny brother, I could be the big one.

I ended up drinking all the concoction, up to the last drop; for an instant I felt nothing, until suddenly I felt a cramp accompanied by an intense pain and dizziness, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, feeling my whole body trembling and my vision went black.

In less than a second, I could see light again. However, something felt strange from the moment I blinked. Maybe it was the aroma I was now emanating, the place where I was now or the noise of weights and sports machinery being used.

I looked down, noticing my tanned skin, my thick pecs and muscles, yes I was strong!

I couldn't help but let out an excited laugh and dropped the weights my brother was carrying moments before, I almost looked like a schoolgirl with emotions running high.

I immediately dropped everything, walking uncertainly towards the bathrooms or the locker room. As soon as I saw my new reflection, it was like feeling an adrenaline rush, I was seeing my brother's reflection! I flexed his arms, enjoying how my arms and chest were swelling up. Gosh, yes!

I lifted my armpit, beginning to lick and sniff, enjoying the aroma. I clutched my nose against my new hairy armpit, panting loudly as if unhinged.I caressed every inch of my new skin, bristling at the slightest touch. I smiled smugly.

— Oh yes, my name is Mark.... – I murmured, taking the opportunity to touch the relief of my brother's pecs, letting out a squeal from the sensitivity – I'm the star athlete of my high school, a real casanova – I was loving every second, seeing how what I was saying, my brother was making exact copy of it – I used to like girls but now.... I don't know, bro. I think I'll only like boys.

I was drunk with power. I ended up leaving the gym after finding my brother's stuff, I didn't even change, I enjoyed feeling how the wet clothes stuck against my skin, the stench my body gave off, even how other guys saw me.

I ended up getting home, I didn't hear any noise, everything was quiet. I knew my parents were at work, so I went upstairs, straight to my room.

I was scared to find my brother in my body, awake. My heart was pounding... but when I opened the door, I could see my old body lying on the floor, asleep.

I smiled, I couldn't help but scoff inwardly, I even moved him slightly to see if he would react.

—You're not so strong anymore, are you, little brother? – I said teasingly.

I simply turned around, closing the door to go to my brother's room. I lifted my armpit, smiling at the scent; now I understood why he was addicted to smelling that bad.

I started rummaging through his closet, beginning to try on all of his clothes. There was something exciting about it that made my skin crawl.

I put on everything I could get my hands on: Sport shirts, shorts, skinny jeans, leather jackets. It was fun, until I found something in a drawer that made my new member firm up instantly. It was a smelly sports spandex, it was my brother's wrestling uniform. I suddenly took off my clothes to put that on instead, I smiled as I saw it fit perfectly on my body, all in place.

My fat legs encased in the tight fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sat in a chair my brother had in front of his mirror, leaning back.

Loving the way I looked, I picked up his phone to start taking pictures of myself, letting my strong muscles show, or my armpits, I even made the occasional silly face.

I was a brainless jock now, wasn't I?

I sniffed hard at my new masculinity, taking advantage of the friction to drive me crazy. I was waving my hand frantically when someone entered the room, it was Theo.

— Shit! – I muttered, covering myself. He just raised his eyebrow.

— What are you doing? - he asked without giving it much importance.

— Nothing, nothing. I wasn't expecting you – I mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.

— I told you yesterday I'd come today, are you running out of brain cells from so much protein? – He joked. I felt a warm feeling in my stomach when I heard him laugh – What are you wearing?

— My wrestling uniform, what else? – I tried to diminish the strangeness of the moment, I had to be more like Mark – it drives girls crazy, don't you think? – I muttered, flexing my arms for him.

Theo let out a friendly laugh, nodding.

— Sure, dude.

We talked for a while, at first he caught me off guard but the more I talked to him, I felt my brother's knowledge and tastes seep in. Suddenly he was talking about his subjects, his other friends, video games that only he knew about, even what sports games were coming up.

— Mark, do you want to go play video games at my house? I bought something new and we can go try it out.

— Sure, bro – I felt natural with every step and every sentence. I changed my clothes so we could go without looking ridiculous, that would be for later – Let me let my annoying brother know.

I ended up walking to my old room, still lying my body on the floor. I went out with Theo, walking down the street and enjoying the sun.

— Sometimes you're too hard on him.

— With who? – I said a bit confused.

— With your younger brother, I remember when you used to get along with him.

I felt some guilt for what he made me remember, there was a time when Mark was protective of me, and I was always hanging out with him and Theo, until.... Wow, I don't know what happened.

— He's such a loser.

— I like him, he's really nice.

I smiled to myself to hear my crush say such a thing. We ended up arriving at his house, apparently no one was home. We went up to Theo's room where we played for at least two hours, the afternoon went by fast; we kept talking about trivial topics but I couldn't help looking at him from time to time.

I felt a connection with him, natural because of my brother's friendship with Theo, but there was something that also seeped out of me, that I liked. The way he laughed, or his hair falling on his forehead, his skin, fuck, fuck...

— Come on, dude. I'm kicking your ass! – I could see how my character ended up being defeated, I was silent, just listening to his laughter, which confused him, he turned to look at me. – Mark... Are you ok?

And I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I approached him to kiss him softly, I was afraid he wouldn't kiss me back, but he immediately started kissing me again.

It was a chaos of kisses, my hands wandering awkwardly through his hair.

— Jesus, Mark...

— Don't you love it?

— I love it, man...

We ended up kissing like crazy. There were a lot of questions in me, So Theo was gay? Did he always have feelings for Mark? Was this the relationship they had? What was going on here?

But the more kisses he gave me, the less I cared. In a matter of mere seconds again we were kissing intensely and passionately. I had everything I wanted, the body I deserved, the boy of my dreams? At last everything was in place.

Theo climbed on top of me, still kissing me, even tenderly.

— Do you want me to take good care of you, big guy?

He whispered in a tone I never thought I'd hear him speak. He caressed my chest and then my abs.

— Theo...

I murmured.

— Shh...

I immediately quieted down. And gosh... He sure knew how to use his mouth, my eyes rolled to white from just feeling how over and over again he acted greedily. I was lost in the sensation until I could feel my new phone vibrating like crazy, I preferred to ignore it, but I kept getting notifications.

I reluctantly picked up the phone, only to see notifications from my old number. Apparently my brother had already woken up, there were endless messages:

"What did you do, midget!? Where are you!?"

And more messages from him, completely hysterical, although there was one in particular that made me trace a wide smile on my face:

"Are you with Theo?! Stay away from my best friend!"

I immediately activated the camera to send him some pictures. Which infuriated him even more.

I was about to burst out laughing when I heard Theo's phone start ringing.

— Mfh... Wait a minute, buddy – he sat back up and picked up his phone to check who was calling – That's weird, your brother is calling me.

— Don't answer it - I tried to sound natural.

But Theo seemed to ignore me, he answered and not only that, he put it on speaker.

— Hello?

There was silence, until Mark finally exploded with my squeaky voice.

— Theo, it's Mark! My idiot brother did something and now I'm in his body! That asshole is using my body, you have to do something!

Theo looked at me strangely, scowling, I couldn't even hold his gaze.

— Didn't you hear, Theo?! That's not me that's with you! You have to do something!

I guess the luck had lasted only a few seconds, now Theo would reject me or even hate me.

— I know, Mark – I looked up quickly, I could see the boy of my dreams with a cold profile, but not for me exactly – And I like it that way.

My old voice sounded hysterical and annoyed over the speaker until Theo cut the call.

— So... You know?

— Yes, I do.

— Was I too obvious?

— A little, but it wasn't really about that.

Without warning he kissed me again.

— But Theo...

— Who do you think sent you the mail?

He let out a laugh to kiss me intensely, I had to restrain myself from kissing him for hours or putting my hands on his body.

— Why?

— Because I've seen you, buddy - he smiled, then I realized that I always use the nickname he used to call me - I know how you look at me, I know how much you liked it. And although I felt something similar, I couldn't reciprocate you, I saw you as my little brother, it felt... wrong. Your brother's body, though, I could certainly mess with it an infinite number of times.

He caressed my smooth abs.

— So you like that I'm Mark?

— I love it. The goofy jock look suits you.

He grabbed my pecs to weigh them, then without warning lunged against my armpits to lick and sniff like crazy.

After a few weeks, I ended up adapting to my brother's life perfectly. I continued playing his sports, improved his grades, got along with his friends... The only change was when “he” came out as openly gay, my parents had to accept it and my younger brother... Well, he has no choice but to watch me bring my cute boyfriend, formerly best friend, into my room every night.

---

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

#body swap #body switch #malebodyswap #bodyswapping #straight to gay #nerd to hunk #twinktohunk #brothertobrother

310 notes · View notes

natalchartnurtures · 1 day ago

Text

Pick-A-Cat GIF: Why Do People Stare At You?

Let's expose the people who stare at you *evil laughs * hehe

Paid readings now available for everybody!

Intention set for the reading: "I want this to be a feel good pick a card to uplift anybody that comes across it. I want their lower three chakras to get a healing boost after reading this pick a card. I want the messages in here to be clear honest and oh so fun to read.

Thank you so much spirit team for helping me do this and help my collective. I lysm <3

Let's begin!"

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 1:

Ok. You a domestic queen/king/non-binary royal. Even if you don't identify as one.

Why you ask? Because sweetie, there's something DEEPly satisfying about watching you go about your mundane day. Doing your lil mundane chores and things. You give off a cozy Bilbo Baggins typa vibe it's almost as if you seem so content being in your lil bubble and living your life that it begs for the attention of people who struggle with inner peace. This is why a lot of people who stare at you, stare at you. They wanna know your secret formula to what they're calling inner peace, cuz you look like somebody who's sooooo CONTENT with their own life and their own shi- and their own company. Keep in mind that this doesn't necessarily mean your life is inherently good all the time like you could have everything going wrong in your life and still handle it like a damn Pro and come out on the other side feeling better than before. You alchemize. Consciously or not, you do. And you do it naturally. Let me tell you something, this alchemical-bouncing-back-from-anything mentality IS your source of infinite inner peace. People who stare at you actually pick up on this nature of yours on a very subconscious level without even realizing and boy.. do they desperately wanna know your "secret" which is basically your alchemy. Lmao. So good luck to anybody who tries to understand you, they're gonna have a tough time tryna understand alchemy as a muggle

A lil rant: NO shade to anybody who's not on the spiritual journey but hey I gotta call it out EXACTLY how it is. Your wisdom was hard 👏🏾 earned 👏🏾 so it's gonna take MORE than just overnight to understand you and your alchemical nature. Like am I wrong?

End Of Rant

I think you get it by now. Your vibe is why people stare at you. It's like you ✨️bewitch✨️ people with your ability to "never get stressed" (at least on face value) no matter what life seems to throw at you. This tells me that most people who stare at you are people who see you in public spaces fairly regularly (like a class or a park near where you live etc) and they don't know you very well?

You have a lotta strangers taking respite in your beauty. Staring at you could be like an escape almost.. like taking a sip from that well of infinite inner peace .. gosh you have a very beautiful aura pile 1, hehe and I love and adore that.

It seems to me like you're angelic.. a white aura or light blue one almost.. you exude very high vibrational energy which makes sense cuz a lot of high vibe people get stares for simply existing! Cuz they move differently through life.

Pile 1, you take the proverbial road less taken- the path of spiritual alchemy and face your darkness and this allows you to MOVE DIFFERENTLY and respond different to life than most people. This. THIS is why people stare at you. My sweet, <insert your name> 😊

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 You may look very cute in your overall appearance which makes you VERY endearing to look at haha. You're cute like a hobbit is. Maybe your shorter than average? Love my fellow Short Queens Tehe ✨️

👉🏾 Even tho you seem very cute, you have eyes of a SAGE of like fucking YODA or something cuz goddamn they deep af. People are MESMERIZED by this duality they sense in you. Love to see it.

👉🏾 You have an air of authenticity to you. You care if you really care, don't if you really don't. No BS typa first impressions when people look at you.

👉🏾 You might strong looking g features that's very beautiful. Like strong looking legs, or strong looking hands, or strong facial features too? Your beauty is kinda Tate McRae's if I'm being honest.. that's what I'm picking up on.. it feels so lovely to sit in ><

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 2:

Whoa when I was starting your reading I accidently asked spirit "What makes my pile number 2s attractive?" instead of "What makes people stare at my pile 2s?"

So you have your answer right there.

People stare cuz you is attractive ok? 💅🏾 I'm getting a strong vibe that you already know this but kinda don't care? Cuz like there's more to you than meets the eye (kinda like in the case of Marilyn Monroe) and you seem to know this too so you're like "yea ik I'm cute, whatever" haha I love itttt sooo much. You a lil miss diva ✨️

Have you ever heard of Brown Magic by Twinjabi? It's BLASTING in my ears as I'm channeling for you right NOW lol this is, again, pointing to me how people find you really attractive.

~Oh and keep in mind, you don't have to be a brown girl to relate to the song :p ~

It's ridiculous how many pages you got all at once. This is telling me that you have this child-like vibe to you. You seem carefree and ~oh so~ positive in the way you look at things, at life. Your energy seems very light just like a child. You embody your inner child really well and this CATCHES people's attention like it's nobody's bussiness. You could really do a lot of work around healing your inner child and your connection to her/him which is helping you sustain your natural curiosity, wonder for life and that pure essence.. Alot of people who stare at you do so cuz they've most probably lost touch with their own inner children. They look to you as a source of light that they struggle to connect with themselves.

And you know what that means-

You trigger people ALOT.

You get stares from some people who are jealous of you and want what you have (your connection to your inner child and GodSource) but WITHOUT putting in the work necessary like excuse me?! Back off. My dear sweet <insert your name> doesn't need your stank ass energy rn.

This. This right here is why you also have a very strong field of divine protection around you. And because you're so protected, you have this untouchable reputation which is ironically why people like to stare at you. They feel like staring at you is the only way they can be close to you. Gosh.

You are naturally a very open and welcoming person but spirit makes sure your safe WHILE being so open and trusting of life and people which is why very few (best of the pack) people are allowed into your "circle" so to speak. Love that for you 😌✨️

You seem to have a very strong root chakra, pile 2. People stare at you cuz you give off "rich girl/guy vibe" (don't matter if you are actually financially comfortable or not) it's just. your. VIBE. It's very abundant because of that open and functioning root chakra! So whatever work you've been doing just know that's it's PAYING OFF really nicely heheheheh (good job pile 2! Root chakra work ain't easy)

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your. HAIR.

👉🏾 If you wear red you may feel like people can't take thier eyes off you BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY CAN NOT. You rock red like nobody's bussiness tehe ❤️

👉🏾 Not just red, any kind of dark feminine aesthetic like black cat makeup, edgy/alternate aesthetics or darker clothes etc brings out your beauty and people who stare at you can't get enough of that lmao

👉🏾 You have a earthy vibe which makes you feel very pleasing to look at (in a luxurious way)

👉🏾 People might find it hard to recognize your ethnicity or your accent cuz you give ethnically ambiguous in the best, most attractive of ways ✨️

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

Pile 3:

You have the 9 of pentaches and the empress out as your first two cards. Need I say more?

You are STUNNING to look at. You wear amazing clothes. You're in your divine feminine energy, hell, you COMMAND energy like an EMPRESS does.

The power you hold is exactly why people stare at you.

They can't help but stare at you. Bro, your energy BECKONS for attention even if you don't want it.

I'm getting a feeling that you like to stay low key and just chill like because I'm getting a very Miss Independent vibe from you which is well deserved because you know how to get ish DONE 💅🏾 you're responsible like that. But it's this I'm-in-my-bubble-don't-BOTHER-me typa energy is why people I heard- are obsessed with you. People stare out of obsession.

They wanna observe every move you make cuz it's just that mesmerizing. Some people who stare at you may have have crushes on you or secretly admire you (platonic/romantic)

There's a deep respect that the people who stare at you, have for you. It's like they look to you for some kinda inspiration, depending on who is staring.

I'm also getting that you may move like deer, graceful. You may love to vibe out to your own energy.

You also know who to let in and who to keep away. You can SMELL bullshit from a mile away and keep that the fuck out.

This is some bad bitch energy, pile 3! I'm so pumped rn sitting in your energy!

Wow ok I'm getting a very specific message now. People stare at you so they can learn more about you? They wanna know what makes you tick (maybe there's somebody in your surrounding who wants to shoot theur shot with you?) Lol that's kinda cute.

But yea you have this free sprinted, wild feminine energy. You'll do what you want, when you want. You're the definition of never let them know your next move and BOY do I love that for you <3

You are a very interesting person. Cuz you're you. You're not afraid of expressing exactly how you feel and this makes you are really enjoyable to be around and so people stare at you cuz they enjoy how you come across- unabashed in your self expression and unapologetic in your authenticity!

Ahhhhhhh this some Queen Shi-

I'm so honoured to be reading for you rn!

You must also have your boundary game strong cuz I'm getting that you can easily cut people off if they don't come correct and people enjoy how authentic you are.

You're giving me MAD Tyla energy rn man. You could maybe even look her? Idk but whatever you look like trust me. People love to stare.

Hehe 🤭

People enjoy watching you take action. Lemme explain. If you're in school people love to stare at you while you're working on a project or something or just in class, taking notes n stuff. You have a way about you that's so addicting, man, people who's stare at you don't wanna stop 👀💀 like hello stop burning holes on my body from the intense staring? Excuse me like huh?

If you're at work, some of your colleges could stare at you out of admiration or simply cuz they have a crush on you (or your work ethic?) Or how you dress 🙃

Whatever it is you tend to pour your authenticity into everything you do. Small, big. Doesn't mattter. You do life in YOUR own (divine) way and that's awesome!

You the shit pile 3, I hope you know that.

Any physical/personality traits that people admire:

👉🏾 Your clothes!

👉🏾 You! Yes you read that right, you in your entirety, in your full essence is what people admire. It's your physical beauty. It's your intelligence. It's your taste in music and movies. Your hobbies. Your authenticity. Everything about you, girlie, is fantastic.

👉🏾 Your independence

👉🏾 Your courage to choose joy over fear

👉🏾 Your wisdom

👉🏾 Your ability to enjoy being alone

👉🏾 Your sense of dedication and devotion (to whatever you choose to give it to)

And with that were done with your reading for today!

Thank you so very much for reading!

I love you soooo much 🫶🏾🫂

Have yourself a nice rest of your day, now and see yaaaaa <3

⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡

189 notes · View notes

sl-vega · 2 days ago

Text

SWEET N' SOUR ! - a scaramouche celebrity smau

-> PROLOGUE; all because I liked a boy

additional notes:

HI HI

i wanted to post this chapter yesterday but i'm SUPER sick right now so staring at a screen was basically a death sentence for me

so to make it up to you guys I wanted to make this chapter longer than I originally wanted it to be!

i was debating whether I wanted to release to prologue or the profiles first, but seeing as how scara's fg isn't relevant yet (and how y/n's entire gc was shown in the second teaser, I decided on uploading the prologue first!

and part of me also want you guys to guess some of the irl equivalents to some of the characters here!

aka half of them

only half of y/n friend group (including y/n mind you) are essentially au versions of another celebrity/semi famous person

so leave your guesses in my ask box/comments!

anyways LMAO other random notes

while this smau won't be an exact one to one of how the music industry works (ie me taking creative liberties with fontinalia being based off of broadway records even though it functions VERY differently from the source) I do like to include accurately depicted parts of it when I can!

when Beidou was talking about qixing showing an interest in y/n, the A&R team that she mentioned is a very real part of any record label!

A&R stands for artists and repertoire, and it's basically a fancy term for talent scouts who find new artists to sign to the label they work for!

anyways lmao this was a VERY long a/n, so thanks for reading all that if you did

as per usual, taglist is always open and please let me know if you want to have a cameo as a fan username (and thank you to all the people who let me use their's as fans in this chapter!)

also let me know if any of y'all are comfortable with being scara haters, venti can't keep doing the work for you

˚୨୧⋆｡ synopsis: the bright lights of fame and fortune aren’t for everyone, and you’re starting to think you’re part of that majority. You just can’t seem to catch a break! Every movie you’re in goes straight to DVD, every album you drop just barely gets any streams. From child star to sub par popstar, it seems clear that the world has some kind of vendetta against you and you love to blame it on a certain rising musical sensation; Scaramouche. Thanks to your godforsaken luck you happened to go out with the wrong guy at the wrong time because he just so happened to be Scaramouche’s ex, next thing you know you wake up to truck loads of death threats, your record label dropping you, AND a whole album labelling you as the ‘other woman’! After what seemed like a never ending onslaught of straight bullying and harassment, you had long since retreated from the limelight, the only thing left from your music career being ever so occasional covers on YouTube that only your few close friends watched religiously. However, after writing a heartfelt original piece and uploading it from your humble bedroom, it goes viral! A single song has thrusted you head first into stardom once more, and face to face with the person you ruined it for you.

<- prev ll masterlist ll next ->

🍬 (open) taglist: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe @enrions @atlatcaheart @mywillt0live @myeomiz @adornavia @automaticpatroltragedy @scaraenthusiast1 @sesamemin @syunifu @blueberrybxba @fishii28 @a-sorrowful-tune @emvss @jiminscarmex @mwaiu @lloversss @d4y-dr3am3r @usagiarchive @idaissupercool @raytoebiter @lizzie-harper @anqelkoz @blue-moonies @lalalaloveallmydays @jinjjjia

172 notes · View notes

feuillesss · 2 days ago

Text

Pick a Pile - Advice for you

Hello everyone! Just a reminder that this is a general reading, so messages will be for a collective. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and choose the image or number that speaks the most to you. If you're not attracted to any images, this reading might not be for you, don't force it. A reminder to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Let me know if any of this resonates with you! Thanks for reading :).

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 1

Hello Pile 1! You may be feeling a sense of confusion within yourself, for some in this collective, you're trying to put up an exterior that isn't true to yourself. Spirit is telling you to take some time to rediscover yourself and who you are, focus on healing your soul, mind, and spirit. Maybe for some of you, you're very hard on yourself and feel like you don't deserve the opportunities that come to you like you didn't work hard enough so you sabotage it. The advice for you is to forgive yourself, or other people for past mistakes, and continue forward focusing more on yourself. Some of you have been neglecting yourself, it kind of feels like you might have been going through a period of just numbness or depression, maybe worried about your future and your truth, what's out there for you. It's almost like you're deluding yourself and running away from your problems. The main piece of advice for you is to nourish and support your body, feed yourself good food, take yourself out for a walk, and do things for yourself. A huge message of self care here, do something for yourself. Even if it's just a facemask, or watching your favourite movie, ordering your favourite meal, do something that makes you happy. Take some time for inner introspection, when you heal your body, you also heal your mind and vice versa. Trust your intuition, trust yourself. Thank you for reading my Pile 1's!.

Signs: rain, wind, 10:10, 1010, doves, tattoo of birds, yellow, blue, the beach, whales, nautical, water, water signs specifically pisces and cancer, fish, scales, rainbow fish.

Pile 2

Hello Pile 2. Straight away I see that some of you are holding onto this resentment in your life, whether that's from previous lovers, family, situations, jobs, or yourself. You're holding yourself back from personal growth and love for your life by clinging to the past. You may hate to hear it but forgiveness, forgiving these people is necessary to heal yourself, stop holding that grudge. Allow yourself to grieve, give yourself that closure, and close that chapter of your life, it's time to let it go. These situations have caused you lots of pain in the past, and it still affects you to this day, it's okay to let it go. Maybe for some in this collective, you've had absent parents or struggled with your family life and it's caused you this deep wound of resentment. But Pile 2, the only person you hurt by holding onto this is yourself, you only punish yourself. Have compassion for yourself, allow yourself to be free of whatever situation has you so resentful. Some of you may have bee attracted to pile 1 as well, if that's the case, there may be a message for you in that pile. Thank you for reading Pile 2.

Pile 3

Hello Pile 3. Why are you doubting yourself so much? There's a huge focus here on self-doubt and doubting your decisions. Spirit is telling you to just go with the flow sometimes and stop seeking comfort in rigidity. Shift your perspective to a more positive one, stop focusing on what you did wrong and second-guessing your decisions. I feel like this is a more dramatic collective of people, when something goes wrong you think your whole world will collapse on top of you. I want to let you know that this is not the case, mistakes are necessary, otherwise you won't learn the lessons that you're supposed to. You may have faced a bit of a setback recently that's really got you doubting yourself, but it's okay to have setbacks and failures, it doesn't mean that you need to beat yourself up over it. Setbacks and mistakes are what help us grow to become better people. Maybe for some of you it was a mistake at work, or something to do with money. Trust your intuition, listen to yourself, and stop doubting every decision that you make, stay firm in it. Allow yourself to make mistakes, to grow and transform into your best self, focus more on restoring your peace, and grounding yourself. Yeah, you may have been feeling very discouraged lately, but don't worry. Shift your mindset from how you've failed, to what you can do now to succeed. Take some time to rest and recover, and come back with a positive mindset. Thank you for reading pile 3!

Thank you for reading!

152 notes · View notes

rimqueen · 2 days ago

Text

LONG POST AB PLAGIARISM!!! PLS DONT SKIP 😭 this is also 1/2 !!!

hi.. this has been plaguing me for a while if I am honest .. I am too nervous to speak up about plagiarism lately mostly bc I feel as if I am being oversensitive or a narc bc I used to overreact a lot on my old blog lol and I also used to get a lot of racism/hate there and it kind of made me hesitant to call it out. plagiarism is one of the reasons I have been so writers blocked and disheartened when it comes to writing lately

usually I dm the person if the fic is not too similar but clearly inspired and ask them to give me credit which i have done a lot lately literally about 3 times in the past few days! those people all complied and added credit and one even took the fic down which I didn’t ask her to do but she did it bc she was apologetic!

I approached @acynicalsweetheart with this too! DMs are below if u can bother reading them bc there’s a lot.

she is very sweet and apologised immediately explained herself and took my point of view into mind which I appreciate a lot!! i was ok with being credited as a framework at first bc I didn’t want to be too pushy or whatever but I had only skimmed a few of her fics as I have had anons before ab it being copying but never answered bc I don’t like to name and shame without reason and also was too nervous for it which sounds stupid but sometimes I’d rather just let something pass instead of getting rape threats and racism!

I was genuinely at first under the impression that it was only a few fics however I asked some of my friends n mutuals if I was overreacting but they said that this is def valid and most of all it’s upsetting to see mutuals, people who read my fics praise work that is legit my fics patched together.. like I know when someone hasn’t written a fic it’s hard for them to see the plagiarism but it hurts my feelings that a style I’ve been working on for so long could be emulated so easy.. I was ok with the credit but like then I read more and more and it became clear to me that the plagiarism is so.. like there’s so much you could mistake the fics as mine and I completely understand inspo but this is just straight up plagiarism and I wished I had called it out beforehand I feel like I have been kind by simply asking for credit or if she would make a post admitting to it bc I know that these huge callout posts only lead to hate and like blocks and it isn’t always fair but like this is just likes on fics that r reworkings of mine and my fics patched together

ok.. so there’s like sooo many screenshots like there’s so many past what I have added in this post! the most noticeable is of my fic Somebunny loves you and acynicalsweetheart’s fic bunny love! I do not mind inspo!!!

my fic starts with leon talking about hunnigan, he steps out of work and it’s raining. fraise’s fic starts like that too. the left is mine right is fraise… OFC it doesn’t seem too overly the same but like the mention of the vintage leather jacket being ruined by weather? 😭 what r the odds and it’s like a lot of this I wouldn’t note as overtly copying if the rest of their fics weren’t also taking on a similar pattern to mine

then it keeps going on and my fic is ab Leon feeling guilty ab fucking his bunny hybrid.. that’s what fraise’s is ab again.. nothing too insane like hybrids and guilt r common in fics LOL but like again.. copied from lovey dovey is just this section rewritten

and then there’s a part in my fic rotten luck where as Leon fucks reader he remembers the Latin prayer his mom taught him. And he remembers it slowly as he fucks reader and again it would be nothing of note but with the rest of the copied content ?? and btw tjis is just small snippets like if u read both fics side by side it’s insane how similar they are but fraise’s fic is just lovey dovey and Somebunny mixed together

^^ the first is fraise’s and the other 3 screenshots r from my fic

there’s also little things like Claire using terrasave to save hybrids that I made up in my fic that fraise also uses whixh again!! would genuinely be nothing of note but it’s as if my characterisation of Leon, how I see him interact with other characters has just been taken, Like I know it’s dumb but I loveee to build my own views on how Leon interacts w Claire ashley and hunnigan and whoever and to see it be taken .. almost word for word is like? I just don’t get how someone could even take headcanons and the way a fanfic author. Characterises rather than building their own views on the source material and it’s not like I mind any of this but it’s the plagiarism that gets me 😭 I don’t want this to be taken as me upset somebody is inspired by this work or whatnot im upset that it’s plagiarism ! this is a smaller one but it’s still? so similar .. the first is fraise and the second mine

and I also wanted to give the benefit of the doubt and be like theyre not doing this on purpose and they were genuinely inspired but a lot of this is just purposely taken from my fics and reworded to sound different and it would be ok if it was a couple lines but the whole fic?? and a lot of it is done cleverly enough that it looks like im reaching to find things to nitpick on but I do this a lot in fics.. I cycle through what Leon thinks characters are going to think of him for doing something awful I have done this in two parts of rotten luck.. I have done it in Somebunny loves you and lovey dovey and even just certain descriptions are taken from like parts of strictly business (chris sounding and looking constipated LOL) and carefully pieced together to create some Frankenstein of my fic instead of just writing ??? like surely that would be easier

the other fic which is very similar to my fic softer softest is fraise’s fic love is a losing game! mine is about curly coming home after a long trip and fraise’s is ab curly about to leave this the opening passages of both.. and again if u read the fics side by side u will so many more similarities rhese two fics r also fraise’s original ones where as the ones that are requests tend to differ from my writing? so it’s like your two original fics are just copies of mine but a little different 😭 The first two screenshots r mine the third is fraise’s fic

on my tumblr I actually made an upset post ab this and then legit 5 mins later I was credited so it’s not like they don’t understand what they have done and I do appreciate the credit ?? but 😭

and these..the first two r from my fics aita and a drabble I wrote for jimmy… I also write that line a lot and the third image which is fraise’s is just a combo of both those lines like 😭

there’s a next part.. so yah linked hereeee only bc there’s screenshots I couldn’t fit..

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #mouthwashing x y/n #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing headcanon

96 notes · View notes

littelovelunette · 3 days ago

Text

Reverie

This is heavy dark romance, read at your own discretion !!

Tags: @lavacakecon @ekkosh @windnoggin

Contains heavy angst, drug abuse, alcohol intoxication, mentions of physical & emotional abuse, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome (?), stalking, mentions of self harm and suicide

Also contains smut, strap usage, spanking, bondage, hair pulling, slight fingering

Blood on the ground, water on the ground— your mind was hazy when you collapsed to the cold tile floor, hair all over your face.

The breakup had been messy when Sevika concluded she needed to give full attention to Zaun, and couldn't get distracted with a relationship.

You weren't too much of a needy partner, you had been good to her but then why were you the one suffering?

Hot tears used to fill your eyes the moment you'd think back to the way she just easily broke up with you as if the relationship meant nothing to her.

Sevika knew how much she meant to you, how much the bond you both shared had healed you from the traumas of your past but despite knowing all that, she abandoned you.

You were back to square one, eyes almost closing as you stared blankly up at the ceiling. The coldness of the tiles sent goosebumps on your arms and legs, if only she'd been here...

Without her by your side you were spiralling back into deep depression and resorting to substance abuse as a relieve from the emotional and mental distress.

You barely left the house anymore. So much so that your skin was pale as if you were a bedsheet ghost, and the sun hadn't kissed your skin comfort in weeks.

But you didn't know that through the cracks of the door, the keyhole, the little gaps at your now boarded windows— Sevika was always watching. She had people keep tabs on you.

She knew what drugs you were doing, what knife you were using when you cut yourself, and the specific time duration it'd been you locked yourself in with a silent promise of never allowing yourself happiness again.

You lost Sevika once and it broke you. You needed to build your walls up higher.

No matter how much it hurt. No matter the cost...

You were Sevika's everything and still are, that's why seeing you throw your life away broke something inside Sevika's usually hardened heart.

You were the one person who was able to make her feel things like sympathy, love, affection, cuteness aggression.

You forced yourself to sit upright and leaned your head back with a soft groan. Everything hurt.

Everything.

You considered ending it all, but a little part in yourself told you that Sevika would probably be back one day and you didn't want her to see your last in a coffin or hanging from the ceiling of your apartment.

The sun was setting when you finished your second bottle of alcohol. Your movements were sloppy because of the drugs in your system already affecting your brain, the alcohol only added to the blunder.

Your eyes were unfocused, the ceiling seemed so high. The floor seemed so hot, your body felt itchy all over the place. All the sensations were overwhelming you. You closed your eyes.

Darkness.

Utter darkness. Some sort of static filled your brain.

You were floating.

Were you even alive?

What time was it?

Where was Sevika?

Was Sevika alright?

When you came to you were tied down somewhere cold and dank. You could smell the iron-like smell of blood somewhere. What even was this place?

You raised your arm.

Only it didn't comply because of the shackles and cuffs holding it down. Both arms actually. You pulled at them and a clinking sound filled the room, echoing in the distance. Your eyes squinted in the darkness and you saw someone sitting at the far end of whatever place it was.

The smoke of a cigarillo hovering around them, you squinted again. Sevika. It was Sevika. All the words that rised to your throat made you let out a small choked sound. "Wh..."

Sevika put the cigarillo out and walked upto you, "What's wrong with you?" She crouched to meet you eye-to-eye. "Tryin' to off yourself?"

"Don't wanna do this." You slurred.

"Wake the fuck up, this ain't a fairy tail!" Sevika pulled you closer using the collar of your neck sending your head lolling to the side because you were still inebriated. "Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, I thought our breakup should've taught you that already."

"H... Huh?" You couldn't quite comprehend what she even was saying. Your gaze fixed on her beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking, angry face.

Sevika sighed.

"You're high. Drunk. Both." She got up, pulling the shackles making you blubber and choke. "Until you get better than what you are like right now I can't let you out of these." She jingled the shackles to make her point. "You're a danger to yourself."

"N-no." You slurred. "I'm okay, I'm just... High."

"Yeah, I know." Sevika sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fuck." She walked back to the chair, sitting down there as you remained there on the floor with your legs sprawled on the ground and hands shackles to the collar of your neck. You let out something close to a whimper. "Please."

"Please what?" Sevika raised a confused brow.

"Keep me." You said making Sevika question all her decisions that led upto this. She got up.

"Freaky." She mumbled before she left the room.

You looked around and tried to make more sense of what was happening but it didn't make sense to you. Why was Sevika being this way? Being so difficult?

She broke up with you, broke your heart into a million pieces and you got addicted to drugs and alcohol as a relief from your problems. Now you're chained to a wall by Sevika who said she wants to keep you safe from yourself?

Talk about mixed signals.

As a few more hours passed, your high wore off and you started to make a bit more sense than before. Sevika returned, keys jingling when she opened the door.

"Where am I?" You asked meekly.

"My basement." Sevika answered after a moment's pause. She was holding a tray of something that seemed close to food.

You stared dumbly as Sevika crouched down to your level. "Eat." She ordered and held out the bowl of soup for you. It was rich coming from Sevika who had a diet of cigarettes and alcohol.

You looked down at the bowl of soup offered to you. Your hands were shaky when you held them out to take it making Sevika sigh. "Nevermind."

You thought she'd deprive you of food because you were so weak you wouldn't even be able to hold the bowl upright without spilling some. But to your surprise, Sevika started spoon feeding you.

She scooped up a spoonful of the warm broth and held it to your lips, her expression unreadable. "Open." She muttered, as if the whole thing was a nuisance.

But she waited.

Patient.

Your jaw hurt so did your whole body but you forced your mouth open eitherway, bottom lip trembling. Sevika took notice. She always did.

She pressed the spoon past your lips, slow and careful, like she knew you were too weak to handle anything rough. The warmth spread through your mouth, down your throat, soothing the ache in your stomach.

You barely had the strength to keep your head up, but Sevika was already scooping up another spoonful.

"You're pathetic like this." Sevika grumbled under her breath.

You would've cried. You were sensitive enough to with just a simple insult Sevika threw at you on a daily when you both had dated. Your lips trembled, pressing down and your nose scrunched, the corners of your lips twitching a little.

"Just eat." Sevika said, her voice a tad bit softer. Maybe, she regretted saying you were pathetic. "You'll feel better." She added.

After spoonfeeding you the rest of the soup, Sevika remained there crouched for a while before she reached one hand out to hold the side of your face. Her grey eyes softening. You could see how her dark lips slowly parted as if she'd kiss you, leaning in and in before...

"Your temperature." Sevika suddenly said, putting her big hand on your forehead brushing your hair away so she could feel your temperature. "Your skin's so hot."

You grinned slightly. "Maybe I'm dying." Your voice was a weak croak.

"Don't you dare." Sevika glared at you before she got up. "I'll get you something for the fever."

She looked down at your form on the floor, chained to the walls. She thought, "But of course staying in this cold basement isn't the most ideal if I want to keep a fever off of you."

She didn't say anything, the keys made a satisfying clicking sound and the chains holding you to the wall fell off. Now you were remained with the ankle cuffs and chains that connected them together so you couldn't run. And the collar on your neck chained with the cuffs of your hands.

"Up." Sevika grabbed you by the underside of your arm and dragged you upstairs and into her bedroom. She let you lay down on the bed so she could tend to your fever.

The next few days were a blur. You were bedridden ill and Sevika took care of you as if nothing had happened between the both of you. As if you weren't a prisoner held captive. As if you both were back to being each others' everything.

She made you feel like nothing had changed. You believed her too...

"You need a shower." Sevika said as she used the keys to take the cuffs off. Fourteen days and the cuffs were finally off. You rubbed your wrists, looking up at her with those innocent, pity-worthy eyes. Sevika got up. "I'll be in there with you so don't even think of trying something funny."

You knew she was referring to you trying to drown yourself. But you yourself knew you wouldn't try that. These last fourteen days may not have magically healed you completely, but you had more hope than before.

Hope that maybe someone did care to take care of your fever-weakened self. You watched as Sevika stripped you off your clothing and you instinctively hid your body.

Sevika's body froze at that movement from you. "I won't hurt you." She said in a whisper. You hesitated but then put your arms to your sides.

The older woman led you to the shower room and pushed you inside. You complied and to your awe, Sevika pulled her shirt over her head as she stepped in too.

"What?" Sevika asked flatly once she caught you staring. You didn't say anything and simply outstretched your grabby hands, making the grabbing motion.

Something that always softened Sevika when you two were together. Sevika's gaze softened and she looked at the running water of the shower as if conflicted.

"We shouldn't be doing this." She leaned closer so you could touch at her breasts.

"But you kidnapped me."

"Yes, and that is exactly why we can't be doing this. We're not together. You're my prisoner, that's it." Sevika was lying to herself and you knew it.

"But you love me." You looked up at her, the water drenching the both of you. "You love me so you kidnapped me to take care of me."

"She's fucked in the head." Sevika thought but didn't dare say it out loud. Instead she said, "I wish I could deny that." Because a part of her knew it was somewhat the truth.

She kidnapped you because you were a threat to yourself and she didn't want that. Sevika sighed and buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You wrapped your hands around her waist. "Sevika." You mumbled her name softly, liking the way you weren't screaming or sobbing her name out.

Sevika put the cuffs back on your drenched naked body. She bent you on the bed so you were on your hands and knees, pulling your waist back so your ass was visible to her.

"Arch." Sevika ordered.

You let out a small whine but complied. Sevika smirked, hand grabbing the plush of your ass. She knew it was wrong but it had been years of no sex. No brothel. Just missing you.

You wanted this and so did she.

Sevika positioned her strap over your pussy. "Ready, slut?" A small whimper left your lips but you didn't dare deny such an opportunity. "Ready, daddy."

You gasped when she she was slammed inside your cunt, a lewd wet sound coming from your greedy pussy. You clenched down on her thick cock, whimpering.

Sevika grabbed the chain of your wrists, pulling them back causing the collar to choke you since they were interlaced. "Daddy, I'll be good!"

"Oh yeah?" Sevika smirked and slammed herself deeper inside causing you to tremble.

She let go of your arms and pulled your ass up further, delivering a firm smack making it jiggle from impact.

"Please." You buried your face in the sheets. "Harder. Daddy, please. Harder." You moaned.

Sevika, a little shocked you'd beg to get fucked any harder than this, complied either ways.

"Oh you want me that bad?" Sevika grabbed the back your head, fingers tangling in your hair and she pulled it back sharply eliciting a loud whine of pain and pleasure.

"Ow! Daddy..." You moaned like a true pornstar when Sevika thrusted hitting your cervix with the tip of the dildo.

Sevika's grip on your waist tightened, mechanical fingers digging in your skin causing bruises to form. You were a mess, drooling and crying in pleasure.

Oh how you dreamt this was what it would be like to be on Sevika's strap again getting railed from the back. Hard and fast.

Just how Sevika liked it. Just how you liked it.

Sevika's guttural groans and pants in your ear made the knot in your stomach twist almost painfully as you pulled at the chains causing them to clink every wet thrust.

"Daddy, please I need to come!" You screamed causing Sevika to chuckle again. She slapped your ass again, letting go of your hair so she could hit deeper.

Her hands bringing you closer to herself. The strap scraped against the walls of your pussy making you whimper and bite the sheets. "Co-co-coming, hhhng." You moaned in a high pitched tone as your body shuddered, coming undone on Sevika's huge strap.

A slow victorious smirk formed on Sevika's lips when she pulled the toy out. "What a slut. All for daddy." Sevika grabbed your collar and brought you in for a kiss.

You moaned in the kiss, feeling her fingers deep inside your pussy teasing you as she kissed you.

You knew you'd be here in Sevika's apartment with her longer. Far longer than expected.

120 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 19 hours ago

Text

Handle With Care 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"Sam's not gonna make it," Bucky huffs as you stand at the sink. He puts his phone face down. "He's an important guy now." He turns and leans on the counter as you rinse the plate in your hands. "I told you, I can clean up after myself."

"And I told you, it's not too much," you put it in the rack. "My mother tried to raise a lady, despite how I turned out."

He tilts his head as he eyes you, "there's a dishwasher."

"Aren't you the cranky old man who tells the youngins they don't know what hard work is?" You scoff.

His lips thin, "you heard that?"

You shrug, "you're a good trainer, Barnes."

"It's a short leash," he growls.

"Is that what you think?"

He sighs and crosses his arms. "You're not like me. I know what people see when they look at me."

"Is that barbecue sauce on your chin?" You smile. He frowns and quickly rubs his chin with his knuckle. You chuckle. "Messing with you."

He huffs.

"What do you know about me, Barnes? You read my file."

"I don't know," he scratches his neck. "You're a demolitions expert."

"Oh, and do you know how I got to know explosions so well?"

"File said you worked with the PD--"

You scoff. "You really didn't dig into the archives? The real ones?"

He shakes his head.

"I didn't work with the PD. I got arrested for setting up IEDs around a farmhouse. Several."

"Farmhouses?" His eyes flash. "Why--"

"Long story short, you meet a lot of backwards people out in the country," you put the second plate in the tray and scrub a knife. "Couple years in, they showed up. Offered me a deal. I saved an embassy. Got my freedom. With conditions."

"Hm."

"Should they really trust me? You think I won't go back and try again? After they've taught me how to do it ten times better?" You laugh. His cheeks twitch. You shake your head. "Barnes, really."

"Well..." he drops his arms. "I don't know, do I?"

You laugh. He lets himself smile.

"Sorry about Sam. I'll let him know he's a real shit for bailing," you pull the stopper in the sink. He hands you a towel. You dry off and give it back. "If you can tolerate me a little longer, we could watch something. From this century."

"You didn't like Showtime?"

"Oh, it was fun, but I need more than moony eyes and tapping toes," you retort. "And I don't mind the snuggles." His brows furrow and you turn to look around, "where is that kitty?"

He's silent as you make clicky noises in an effort to entice the cat from her hiding spot.

"Didn't take you for an animal person."

"Might say the same of you," you toss back. "I had a pet snake. Wasn't much of a cuddler."

"Huh," he utters.

"Huh, what?" You turn and face him from the doorway.

"Nothing. Just the definition of a lady's changed a lot since my day."

"I'm sure a lot's changed. Can't even imagine," you say. "I did three years and came out, totally lost. You did... a lot longer."

"Yeah, well, it was easier... before."

You know who he's referring too. You can't blame him for being bitter. It must sting more now that Sam chose not to come hang. You almost want to call him up and bitch but you doubt he'd answer.

"Alright, my choice," you declare as you enter the front room. "You need a dose of pure schlock."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he grumbles.

"If I did, you'd know it," you scoop up your phone and ignore him. "I'm thinking the trashiest action crap we can find."

"You really don't have to--"

"Barnes, I'm here, and to be honest, I don't really feel like dealing with rush hour," you sneer. "So be a good host and get me a beer."

He stares back at you and blinks.

"Oh, wait, wait, I'll ask like a lady." You bat your lashes and force a smile. You add a few octaves. "Oh, please won't you get me a drink?"

He makes a face, "don't ever do that again."

You snort. You look around for his television remote. You click on the screen and flop onto the couch.

His suggested is a bit predictable; war docs, Lord of the Rings, The Sopranos? Alright. No wonder he's so goddamn serious.

He comes back with two bottles. He offers you one. He turns and stand next to the couch as he presses the glass neck to his lip but doesn't drink.

You continue your search for something less dire. Arnie is always a good time, right?

"Barnes," you select a classic; Predator. "You wanna sit? The whole lurking in my peripheral thing makes me itchy."

He flinches, "uh, sure."

He steps around the couch and sits right against the armrest. You look down at yourself. There's the stain on the borrowed shirt but otherwise you're presentable. You lift your arm and sniff.

"I smell or something?" You ask and put the remote down.

"Huh?" He glance at you.

"You think I'm contagious, or something?" You tease.

His forehead wrinkles and he shows his teeth.

"You don't have to tuck yourself into the corner like a misbehaved child," you say.

"It's not... no, just making sure you have space."

"Relax, I don't got any explosives on me," you sit back and face the screen.

A white blur jumps up beside you and you wince. Bucky does too. Alpine walks in a circle, seeking pets from her owner before spinning back. She comes to nestle against your leg, putting her head on your thigh. You stroke her gently.

"I can see why you don't like to go out, Barnes," you snort.

"She's alright." He eases just a bit. "She'll be making all sorts of racket at midnight."

"Good kitty," you praise and reach for your beer. "You give him hell, pretty kitty."

He sighs and turns his bottle in his hands. Too bad that stuff can loosen him up.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #handle with care #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #avengers

90 notes · View notes

chilliradio · 3 days ago

Text

Carlos didn’t see him after the race. Even waited around in the paddock, dodging all the ecstatic Mclaren staff rushing past him to the garage as he waited for Oscar to show. Carlos wasn’t brave enough to venture into a celebrating sea of papaya to find him, so he tugged his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Oscar’s messages thread as he slinked away, unnoticed, rain-damp jacket blending in against the dark blue pavement.

Carlos hesitates with the words for too long, wondering what to say, what Oscar might want to hear. He dodges more people making their way past him and accidently hits the send button too soon, realises he doesn’t know how to fix it, so he just leaves it as is anyway.

Still at the same hotel tonight. If you need

Oscar doesn’t reply.

Carlos is half expecting an immediate response. A few simple words at the least, a cryptic sentence at the most. He’s also half expecting to not hear from Oscar again until next week, once he’s cooled off and pushed everything back down into the bottle of his seemingly endless emotional storage. Could swing either way. Carlos has spent long enough trying to decode Oscar’s silences that he would like to think he’s getting better at it, but all he has right now to gauge Oscar’s mood by is his race, the movements of his car reading like an extension of Oscar’s own physical tells.

There was anger, a firm set to his mouth, wheels spinning in the grass. Frustration, the cold set of his eyes, water spraying off the edges of the racing line. Determination, the furrow between his brows, getting too close to barriers and breaking late into every corner.

Carlos doesn’t hang around the paddock any longer than he has to. He briefly entertains the idea of storming into the gaudy orange motorhome as he walks past it, eyes downcast to watch the puddles ripple under his shoes. But he doesn’t know what he would even do if he did find Oscar hiding in his driver's room, rightfully licking his wounds. Besides, he’s got family around this weekend to help him. He’s got support if he wants it. He doesn’t need Carlos.

But the traitorous, longing part in the back of Carlos’s mind likes to think that maybe Oscar does need him. Maybe he needs someone that isn’t disappointed in him. Someone who understands what it’s like to make one mistake and get stuck in a mental loop of reliving that moment, wondering how to fix it, how to restart the race and make sure that never happens. Someone who can feel the steering wheel snapping too hard. The helpless, uncontrollable slide of the car going sideways.

Carlos’s phone stays silent on the way back to the hotel. He gets a text from Alex when he’s in the lobby, which he replies to by re-congratulating and politely declining the invitation out in favour of sitting on the floor of his room with back against the bed, waiting.

He sends Lando a congratulating message too, knowing he’ll be too busy to reply anyway.

Carlos has almost managed to convince himself that he won’t get to see Oscar in this hotel room again and that he’s perfectly fine with that, right when there’s a short knock on the door. Carlos stops tapping his fingers against his ribcage and pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed. He looks over the neatly made sheets and lets the memory of Oscar’s hands push him against them. He thinks of the incessant rain, wearing a headset instead of a helmet.

Another quiet knock on the door. Carlos scrambles to his feet and yanks it open.

Oscar stares at him, unmoving. He’s wearing a black cap, orange symbol front and centre, and a plain black hoodie. Carlos can’t even see any sign of the rain on his shoulders. The material is too dark.

Oscar opens his mouth and struggles to fill it with words, instead just gesturing vaguely to the room behind Carlos. He clears his throat.

“Can I…?”

“Of course, sorry. Come in.” Carlos steps back, leaving plenty of room for Oscar to go past him, but he brushes close as he walks into the room. The sensation of his shoulder brushing against Carlos’s chest sends shivers running out his limbs, down to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wonders if the sharp feeling that being around Oscar brings out in him will ever dull. He isn’t sure if it would be a relief for it to lose its edge, or if it would just be yet another thing to miss. Crave.

Oscar stands in the middle of the room with his hands in his hoodie pocket. There’s a dejected slope to his shoulders that has Carlos’s chest aching. He steps closer, hands already reaching out, and Oscar. Oscar folds.

Carlos has always loved the fact that they’re pretty much the same height. It has always made hugging Oscar feel so right, like they just fit. When Oscar steps into his arms this time, it’s different. He crumples. Wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder, curling over to rest his weight against him.

Carlos holds him as tightly as he dares, wary of making Oscar feel too trapped, overwhelmed.

Carlos counts four heartbeats in the silence before Oscar murmurs something into his shoulder.

“Huh? I cannot hear you.”

Oscar shifts so his face isn’t stuffed into the material of Carlos’s hoodie. He leans back, hiding his face under the brim of his cap as he says, “Sorry ‘bout your race.”

Carlos feels the urge to cry and laugh at the same time. The abrupt end to his race feels like a lifetime ago already. He lets his hands slip to Oscar’s shoulders, digs his fingers in for a moment like a mini massage.

“Thank you. And I am sorry about yours.”

Oscar pulls back from Carlos’s touch, eyes downcast, and steps over towards the window. The sun has already set, but there’s patches of murky purple sky beyond the city skyline. The orange glow of lights reflecting off the clouds creates a halo around Oscar's silhouette.

Oscar hums noncommittally. Carlos pulls the drawstring of his hoodie between his fingers and rolls it back and forth.

“Are you going to…” Carlos starts to ask, then realises he doesn’t know quite what he’s trying to ask. He quickly swerves around the idea of celebrating a home race being lost. “Your family, they are expecting you, no?”

Oscar shakes his head and finally turns around so Carlos can see his face, his nose scrunched up briefly.

“Nah. Told them I just needed… time.”

Oscar shrugs like it means nothing and glances over at the abstract art hanging on the walls. A splatter of what looks like black ink on white background, nestled in a sleek frame. Carlos can’t make heads or tails of it. It looks like a mistake, a mess to be cleaned up, yet it sits behind sparkling clean glass.

Carlos nods absently and sits on the edge of the bed. His fingers continue fiddling with the drawstring of his jumper, wanting to feed it between his teeth so he has something to focus on, other than imagining walking across the room and physically picking Oscar up and squeezing him. He’s got all kinds of strange energy coiling up in his stomach and shapeless thoughts flitting through his mind, unable to pin any of it down.

He feels a bit like the splatter of ink at the moment. He can't make anything he feels make sense. Can't wipe the slate clean either, forced to see it all behind a cold shield of glass.

The mattress shifts, sinking slightly to Carlos’s side. Oscar mirrors Carlos’s position, sitting on the edge of bed an arm’s length away, then Carlos watches as he folds himself in half so he can lay on the creased sheets, perfectly aligned so his head comes to rest in Carlos lap.

Carlos blinks. “Oh.”

His fingers stop pulling at the loose thread poking out from his hoodie string. Another heartbeat and Oscar shifts, knocking his own hat off his head with a flick of his hand so it falls to the floor and he settles in properly, letting all his weight rest on Carlos’s thighs.

It feels like Carlos can’t breathe around the swell of emotion that rises in the back of his throat, but he takes the obvious invitation and settles his fingers over the nape of Oscar’s neck, gently scratching through his hair, from the base of his skull to the crown of his head.

Oscar sighs, and Carlos can feel the warmth of it through the material of his sweatpants. He tries to think of something to say, anything that would sit well with them in the quiet of the room, but his mind is coming up blank. Instead, he focuses instead on the unwinding coils of his stomach as they relax, breathing in time with the rhythmic rise and fall of Oscar’s chest.

He doesn’t know how long they stay there. Carlos cards his hand through Oscar's hair in soothing, repetitive motions. It's soft against his skin. Clean from a shower after the race. Then it slips through his fingers entirely and out of reach when Oscar sits up again and looks at Carlos.

His hair is flopping down in his eyes now without a hat or Carlos’s hand to hold it. Carlos doesn't dare move. He feels a bit like he’s trying to not to scare Oscar off, like he is a stray cat who’s trust needs to be earned with stillness and patience. Carlos is more than willing to wait.

He watches Carlos with heavy eyes for a moment before he moves, digging his knees into the mattress and crawling closer so he can hitch a leg over and settle in Carlos’s lap.

Carlos’s hands hover uncertainly for a moment, fiddling with the edge of Oscar’s hoodie as he smiles up at him. “Hey.”

Oscar offers a half smile, eyes going soft and crinkly around the edges. One of Carlos’s favourite looks. “Hi.”

He doesn’t give Carlos a chance to say any more before he dips his head and captures his lips in a slow kiss. Oscar cradles Carlos’s jaw, threads his fingers through the back of Carlos’s hair as he presses close, mouth moving with a kind of calm reverence that feels more like he’s reciting prayers, whispering secrets against the sharp edge of Carlos’s teeth where he knows they will be kept safe.

Carlos holds Oscar’s hips firmly now, trying to ground himself more than anything, and he can feel his mind going floaty, body going lax under the comforting weight of Oscar on top of him. He flexes his hands and grips the edges of Oscar’s hoodie to bring himself back into focus and reluctantly breaks off. Brain buzzing with distant questions, Carlos rests a hand on the small of Oscar’s back as he pulls away so he knows he doesn’t want him going anywhere.

“Oscar.”

The soft light from the window casts Oscar’s face into gentle shadows. He nudges forward, bumping their noses together. Carlos stares at the flutter of Oscar’s eyelashes, knowing he’s looking at Carlos’s lips and feeling like a messy splatter of ink about it.

“Hmm?”

I just needed… time.

Oscar could have gone anywhere tonight. Been with anyone. There’s a whole city out there, a place that cradled a younger Oscar, a place that now cheers for him. He could be anywhere he wants to be. But he’s here.

“What do you want?” Carlos murmurs the question quietly. He runs a hand up along Oscar’s spine as he speaks, marveling at the way he arches under his touch. His breathing is uneven, choppy. Carlos isn’t doing much better.

“Uhm.” Oscar gently pulls Carlos’s hair, twisting it between his fingers. “A fuckin’ time machine, maybe.”

Carlos snorts. His hand reaches the back of Oscar’s neck where he holds him firm. Oscar somehow presses his body even closer.

“Yeah? Like the one from- what is it? Back To The Future?”

“Exactly like that. Just drive right on back into the past. That'd be perfect.”

He’s smiling, a gentle thing. Carlos mirrors that smile without thinking. He’s just happy to have got a reaction out of Oscar at all.

“And how far back would you go?” Carlos asks, a bit selfishly. Always wanting to know what is going on in Oscar’s mind is a kind of hunger that Carlos has become accustomed to by now. He lets it sit in his gut like a stomach ache, feeds it whenever he can.

Carlos tries to guess his reply before he says it. He thinks of the race, the rain, sitting at the pitwall in jeans and a jacket. Watching the screens. Watching Oscar.

Oscar hums and squints one eye closed, then smiles, mischievous, before he answers. “Reckon I’d go back to… Wednesday. Tuesday, even.”

Carlos sighs and closes his eyes, knowing exactly what Oscar means. The last time Oscar was in this room. In this very bed.

Carlos makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, going for indignant and failing miserably. He didn’t expect Oscar to pick the best moments to relive, instead of the worst moments to fix.

“Well, then you must take me with you, Oscar.”

“Well, of course,” Oscar says through another achingly soft smile.

Carlos leans forward to hide his grin against the line of Oscar’s jaw, pressing kisses against the moles dotting his skin.

“And what else do you want?”

Carlos feels like he is fishing for a specific answer, but even as he asks the same question again, he still doesn’t know what it is he wants to hear. His stomach growls with hunger for more of Oscar and scraping his teeth against the taunt muscle of his neck does little to sedate it.

“Ah, um…” Oscar shifts in his lap, a tremor running through his body. “Been craving churros lately.”

Carlos can’t help but laugh a bit wetly into the collar of his hoodie.

Oscar’s hand still cradles his head, holding him gently, running a thumb over the shell of Carlos’s ear. The delicate touch opens a pit of a yearning somewhere deep inside Carlos, and for an embarrassing moment he feels the urge to cry until he bites down on the inside of his cheek, hard, and the tidal wave subsides, roiling around his ribcage instead.

“Churros, eh? We could have room service if you want.”

Oscar’s eyes are shining when he tugs Carlos’ head back, searching his face.

“Not yet. I also want-” Oscar cuts himself off, worrying his teeth against his bottom lip. Carlos is so close, he can see the shudder of Oscar’s jaw as he forces the words out.

“I want you.” The words land like a shove to the chest. Carlos tries not to gape but he cannot keep his mouth closed, apparently. “I always want you, actually.”

And there it is. Carlos realises this is what he wanted to hear. Why Oscar chose to find safety in Carlos’s room instead of anywhere else tonight.

Carlos’s voice is tellingly thick when he speaks but he doesn’t care. The unexpected moment of vulnerability, Oscar showing him his soft underbelly without flinching has Carlos’s heart clenching in his chest. He cracks a smile anyway and jokes, “Say it one more time? I do not think I heard you.”

Oscar rolls his eyes. He’s still smiling. “Oh, fuck off. You heard me alright.”

Oscar’s hands land square on Carlos’s chest and he pushes him back against the mattress, holding himself up with hands on either side of his head. Carlos stares up at him, slack jaw and wanting eyes. The yearning in his chest twists violently.

“Say it again,” Carlos whispers. Greedy to hear it. Selfish, to make Oscar repeat himself.

Oscar cradles Carlos’s jaw and brushes his thumb over his bottom lip. The gentleness, overwhelming, is what slices Carlos open.

“I want you, Carlos."

#2.6k of carcar bc i have Feelings #and its my first f1 tumblr fic lets go!!#the freedom of posting without going through the horrors of the ao3 tagging system feels too good to be true #carcar #carlos #oscar #f1 #f1 fic #my writing

134 notes · View notes

velaris-fic-repository · 12 hours ago

Text

Falling Stars

@starfallweek 2025 March 21st Prompt: Character A is confused about the meaning of Starfall and misinterprets the entire evening.

Starfall was coming up.

Bad news: No one had actually told you what it was about. Any discussions about it between the Inner Circle and your recently Made sisters, you had coincidentally missed.

It wasn’t on purpose. What with, you know, the war and getting used to immortality and magic powers, it didn’t seem like the most pressing of concerns. You were blameless, how would a former human know to ask about an event that they didn’t know existed until the week of?

Unforeseen side-effect, all you could do was infer what Star-Fall as a name could mean. And it didn’t sound pleasant to you. At all. Falling stars sounded dangerous and scary. Like a magical natural disaster.

You were terrified.

You noticed all over Velaris, lights were going out in homes across the city. Good. People were either hunkering down or evacuating. You had been told that you’d be flown up to the House of Wind for the event. Hiding in the depths of the library sounded like an excellent idea.

Azriel brought you up earlier than he would have expected you to ask, but assuming you’d want some time to get ready for it, he didn’t argue.

He was puzzled by your tense nature though. He thought you were doing better with the whole adjusting process. But, if any family knew about good and bad days, it was this one.

“Are you alright?” he asked tentatively as he set you down.

“As I can be,” you responded, “where’s everyone else?”

Azriel didn’t need his shadows to read you, the anxiety was written all over you.

“Probably still making preparations, why?”

Your voice came out like a sigh of relief, one he had difficulty understanding, “okay, that’s, that’s fine. I’ll leave them to it, then. I’ll be waiting in the library.”

Azriel was about to ask another question, try to figure out what was bothering you, but you sped off before he could. Frowning, he sent a shadow after you, if not to help him figure you out, then at least to offer you comfort. He’d been surprised by your affection for the little black wisps, but eventually warmed to the notion that you liked them. He didn’t dare to think that the affection you had for them extended in similar levels to him. You were his High Lady’s sibling and a friend. As much as his heart longed to chase after you, he’d let you be.

An hour passed. He’d expected to receive notice from the shadow that you’d started dressing for the party. Nothing. It hadn’t even left your side. But, then again, who was he to know how much time you needed. Maybe you were lost in a good book. He sent two more off to the library, just in case.

Another hour and everyone else was already here. Still no sign of you, no message from his shadows.

“Something wrong, Az?” Feyre asked him, noticing his puzzled expression.

He confided what he’d noticed about you earlier, simultaneously asking if she’d seen or heard from you.

Upon hearing a no, he’d made up his mind, he’d go looking for you. Feyre thanked him as he went but he wasn’t doing it for her. Her tone and smile suggested she knew that.

Once inside the library, he sent his shadows out, stalking the shelves in search of you. He’d ordered them in no uncertain terms this time to report directly back to him if they found you.

Moments later, a shadow sped back to him, swirling around his wrist and tugging urgently toward the stairs to the lower levels.

The rest of his shadows were with you, sequestered in a back corner, when he found you. They were rolling over your shoulders and arms in a way that suggested comfort.

They quickly darted back to him as you moved to stand.

“Az! Thank goodness you’re here, where is everybody?”

“They’re upstairs-“ he began, but you frantically cut him off.

“-Well we’ve got to get to get them down here, come on!”

He had to throw his wings out behind him to steady himself as you pushed past him. He chased after you, grabbing your wrist as soon as he could get close enough.

He softly said your name, willing you to stillness as he said, “slow down, what’s wrong?”

“Slow down? What’s wrong?” you repeated as if he’d grown a second head, “why are you being so calm about this?”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“Starfall! It’s dangerous!”

That stilled him, stunned in his confusion. “Starfall isn’t dangerous.”

You fully stopped then, your expression a mirror of his own. “What do you mean?”

“We,” Az paused, “we told you about Starfall, didn’t we?”

You shook your head.

Azriel raised his head, finally understanding.

“Come on,” he said, hand tentatively slipping around yours. When you didn’t flinch away from the texture, instead twining your fingers with his scarred ones, he continued. “I’ll show you.”

You reluctantly followed behind him and he tried to ignore the shutter in his heart at the trust you always placed in him. He led you up and out of the library, happy to see the event hadn’t started yet.

He coaxed you out and onto a balcony as the house seemed to hold its breath.

“And you’re sure it’s safe,” you said, still standing a ways back from where he comfortably leaned on a column.

“You aren’t in any danger,” he reiterated with an amused smile, “but I’ll protect you nonetheless.”

You broached a step forward. Then another, and another until you were next to him.

“What’s going to happen?” you asked, a small piece of the childlike wonder you and your sisters had lost in your human lives creeping in.

“You’ll see.”

You blinked and almost missed it as ribbons of starlight began shooting across the sky in a kaleidoscope of color. Beautiful, and nowhere near dangerous. An awe filled gasp tore out of you and you leaned forward, eager to see it all.

“Better than the library, huh?” Azriel chuckled beside you.

“It’s beautiful.”

Azriel, not that you could see him, was looking at you, the lights of Starfall illuminating your face.

“It sure is,” he breathed.

This may have been your first Starfall, but to him, watching you, it felt like he was seeing it for the first time too.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #archeron!reader #azriel #azriel acotar #feyre archeron #starfall week 2025 #acotar

113 notes · View notes

slutsareteacherstoo · 5 hours ago

Text

ME WISHING THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME BC WHAT?!?! You, like Kelvin, pulled out all the stops in this one like whattt

SABRINA?!🤣😭 oh i love her she’s funny

“For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game.”- i love how apt this is for like movement in the brain like a bee buzzing cuz its like that fr. Idk if that makes sense

Not the art hoe 🤣

NO IM JUST LIKE AUNTY FR WHATS THE LINK 🧐🫣👀

This description of Kelvin i feel like ive seen a picture or video of it before and if not damn your imagery is good

KELVIN IS A PREPARED MAN!!!! He had has spennadanight bag together during 101! He’s so true to this!!!!

They both got the shop in a tizzy 🤣

ALSOO NOT THE CHINA/ASIA MIX UP. Black people are so 🤣🤣i love us

Threatening to fuck up the fade over tea? I think about that tweet daily that go, “think of the messiest person you know…it’s a man isn’t it?” Bc 🤣🤣

“…Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only. "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her." - oh he BEEN smitten. This the type of shit niggas need to say out loud more often. Like fuck nonchalance!!!

Wow Kel! 🥺I also liked his beeline of thought but fuck! Decisions to make 😫

And Brandon and Kelvin are real with each other. I like that. This aint no surface level friendship 😤😤

YEAH BE ORCHESTRATED ALLADAT!!! He said from your smile to God’s ears like wow! 😫 manifesting manifesting 🙏🏿

They are too cute!!! Asia is just as enchanting and smooth as Kelvin and I love seeing her in her element when she knocks him down a bit. Lmaoo not they got caught🤣and love 👀🫣 what they gon say??

“We’re enjoying our time together” 😩 and they support each other, support the other be better and move together as a unit like yes i love this trope!!!

"I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?" - OMG 😱 THIS CONFESSION. VERY CHALANT!!! VERY CHALANT! I approve 🙂‍↕️🥹

Now Asia going the nonchalant but she did her thing she did her thing 🤪

Asia said we cool but we need to go home RIGHT NEOW!!!!😅😅 but yes all that boo😘

IM IN THE ROOM WHERE ITS HAPPENING *squeals* like im IN THE ROOM this set up and the headiness of moment like 😍

“But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder.” OH YOURE A GENIUS!!!!

"I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." - OH IM UP AND EYES WIDE OPEN FR!!!

Here at KHJ, we turn small ponds to great lakes🤝🏿😭

I meant it, dont make me regret. *plays Ambré’s I’m Baby*

AND DID AS SOON AS I READ THE LINE AND IT MADE RHE ENDING SO 👩🏿‍🍳💋🤌🏿

Chile let me manifest this as a first time - extended edition😅 like shit im giddy and excited like hmm 🤔 im ready for the challenge and confronting all these thoughts if this is on the other side of the reset.

I adored this chapter sooo much!!! Like they are really enjoying their time together even though Chicago got me scared but wow this build up to this moment. Asia’s confidence in saying exactly what she wants and succumbing to the feelings and being in her body and in the moment with Kelvin like yessss girl!!!!!

No but seriously thanks for this. You gave me hope and lit a spark that’s gonna stay alive about whats out there fr 😇🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️💜

Group Project

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.9k

MASTERLIST

"Okay. I think…I think I'm ready."

For seven straight days, Asia moved through life, reliving her response to Kelvin and feeling like she'd just written a check her ass couldn't cash. The real thing. What the fuck had she agreed to?

As she sat next to Sabrina with her feet submerged in tepid, bubbling water, the reality of sex unspooling from a far away abstract thought into a tangible possibility with only hours separating her from facing her wildest fantasies smacked her so hard in the face she almost choked on the flat champagne sliding around her plastic cup.

"Are you all right over there?" Sabrina asked without looking away from the laminated list of pedicure options.

Asia attempted to take a steadying breath between coughs. "I think I'm dying," she sputtered. Another sip of the offending beverage helped force down residual mucus until she was able to speak without her throat burning. "Honestly, that might not be such a bad idea."

"Oh, girl. You're losing your virginity, not going off to fight on the frontlines. Tighten up!"

"Sabrina," Asia whisper-yelled before shooting a nervous grimace meant as a smile to a few older women thumping about in the massage chairs across from them. "You wanna tell everybody my business over the PA system or tap folks individually?"

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina passed the laminated menu of pedicures to Asia before taking a sip of red wine. "I'm just sayin', friend. I came out today to help you loosen up, but you're stressin' me out. If you're having second thoughts, I'm sure your man will let you reschedule. I heard y'all on the phone earlier. He seems nice enough."

"I don't want to reschedule. I wanna do it tonight. I'm just…I don't know. I'm nervous about the before stuff. If that goes wrong, the whole night is ruined."

Asia had spent the better part of a week trying to negotiate with the truth, only to realize that reality drove a hard bargain. She couldn't escape the rising tide of nascent romance threatening to wash away all her preconceived notions about her place in love land. He had to know their no-strings-attached suddenly developed enough strings to power a symphony.

For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game.

Then came Kelvin, who, by all accounts, seemed to neatly pack each of her insecurities and hang-ups into a tiny box before chucking them into the wind. Asia couldn't understand why he hadn't dropped the entire experiment to canoodle, with women undoubtedly vying for his attention. She knew falling for your first, no matter what stage of life the experience found you, was a rookie mistake. But, the wrongs felt so right with him. How could she not at least try?

Sabrina paused her perusal of neon gel nail lacquer and smiled at her friend. "That boy likes you, Asia." Her matter-of-fact delivery came with a light chuckle as she pushed Asia's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not taking you on a date and sending flowers to the house because y'all are best pals. You can spend today worryin' yourself crazy, but I'm tellin' you it's for no reason. Get out of your head. Take it from somebody who is just now realizing her man never really liked her."

"Damn. I'm guessing you and Eric are back off?"

"Girl, yes. For good. But whatever, it's fine." Sabrina scoffed, waving Asia off as if her split second of vulnerability was nothing more than an observation about the weather, and smiled. "Today's about you! We gon' get these nails done, grab you something sexy for the art hoe, and teach you how to use lube. Condoms are being used, right?"

Asia's eyes darted around the room to catch horrified reactions from anyone who might've heard her business being openly discussed. "Bitch!" She lowered her voice before responding. "Yes, we are using condoms. I went and got them myself."

"That's what the fuck I'm talking about. I got this silicone-based lube that I know you'll love. Makes it feel like nothing's separating y'all. My girl is rubbing fronts tonight! Yesss!"

"Oh God," Asia groaned as she slouched further into her chair, wishing she could poof into a thin layer of pixie dust if it meant she could escape embarrassment. "I'm gonna die."

Throat clearing and the grating squeak of leather under shifting weight stopped Sabrina's ongoing teasing mid-sentence to bring their attention to a greying black woman with curiosity etched in her barely wrinkled face. "Now, I know y'all weren't talking to me, but I need the name of that lube. Do I need to order it off the Amazon? I just got Prime from my son for Christmas."

"Oop. I got you, Auntie. Let me see your phone."

While Sabrina drew in a small crowd of elders looking to get back in the saddle with some slippery assistance, Asia found solace in another scroll of her favorite text thread.

Can't wait to see you later Missed your face this week

Kelvin's last message included an air kiss gif that Asia would consider corny if not for the sender. Pitch decks, client meetings, and last-minute PTO set them on paths winding in different directions, stealing away all chances at a face-to-face meeting before they were body-to-body.

If not for an impromptu call before the sun could fully take its rightful place in the sky, all communication would belong to iMessages full of jokes with no context and memes they considered fully fleshed-out thoughts.

Asia read each message repeatedly just to feel the flutter of butterflies in every corner of her belly. He liked her. He had to. The sweet messages, the peach tulips bound in a pretty brown bow, and the early morning wake-up call couldn't all be kind gestures from a friend. Right?

An internal battle between logic and wishful thinking played out in Asia's mental colosseum. She volleyed a million possible outcomes back and forth until stilted buzzing and a quiet trill against her wrist drew her attention to an incoming FaceTime call from the man of the hour.

She slid in an earbud and then answered, instantly smiling as she watched his chain bob back and forth with every step while he kept the camera positioned below his face. Grown-out facial hair created the right amount of scruffiness to turn the heads of young and old women alike. His baseball cap cast a shadow across his cheeks. A cerulean sky boasting specks of fluffy white clouds and bright rays of flattering light highlighted the gleam in his earrings. It fanned outward, turning him into a walking, talking work of art.

When he finally realized the call had connected and he had the rapt attention of his lone audience member, he looked down and grinned. "What's all that about?"

"All what?"

"That little smile," he chuckled. "You showin' teeth and everything, girl. Must be happy to see me."

Caught. Asia tried to return to a neutral expression but found her face ignoring mental orders to accommodate more and more cheek burning as her smile grew wider. "Whatever! This is your second time calling. You need something, or you just like to hear me talk?"

"Both," he answered, splitting his attention between an incoming crosswalk and the screen. The usual playfulness in his tone abruptly dissipated, leaving behind a seriousness Asia hadn't experienced. He looked down at her and licked his lips before speaking again. "I just, um…I wanted you to know that I'm cool with not staying the night. That was one of your rules, so don't think you have to change it on account of me. I'll leave in the middle of the night if that means you're comfortable."

"I want you to stay, Kel. But only if you want to."

"I already got my bag packed with extra pajamas and my laptop just in case this turns into a whole weekend. C'mon, now. This me you talking to!"

Asia lifted a brow, shocked by his eagerness to spend days on end in her cramped apartment. "My bad! Didn't know you'd be so excited for a sleepover with little 'ol me."

"I'm always excited to be with you," he answered. Dual smiles radiating from opposite ends of the city held steady over the phone until Kelvin pulled open a door and ushered in a harsh mix of sounds. "I gotta go. My boy's already on my ass for being late. He about to lose his tip, to be honest."

Asia's laughter drew attention, forcing her to shoo Sabrina away before she could interrupt. "Go ahead and get your haircut. Let me see when you're – girl, go away!"

"Tell your girl I said 'hey,'" Kelvin chuckled as he eased his way into an empty barber chair. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer, trying to commit her scrunched nose and knitted brows to memory in case their time together was winding down. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, pretty."

Her farewell was lost to petty arguments with her best friend on her end and a groundswell of hooping and hollering behind an offending opinion amongst a shop full of men on his side. A huff of air pushed past his lips in a short laugh as he slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

His barber and friend, Brandon, shook his head and tapped his foot on the pedal to lift Kelvin to the right height. "That's shorty from the bar that night? China?"

"Asia," Kelvin corrected, a miffed frown deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth. "And, yeah. That's her."

"My fault. You be way too secretive though, bro. How did y'all meet? Do you like her? Y'all just kickin' it? Tell me something, or I'm fuckin' up the fade."

Black nylon cascading in front of his face gave Kelvin a split second to decide how much information he could share with his notoriously talkative right-hand man without opening the door to prying questions and needless revelations.

He scratched at the itching hair on his jawline, trying to appear nonchalant. "We met at work. She was new, I showed her around, and now we cool. Simple." An instant smile betrayed his forced tough-guy act.

"Nah, you cheesin'! Tell the real story!"

The poker face he'd tried to maintain continued to slip into a full display of all thirty-plus teeth.

"Alright, alright," Kelvin conceded. For months, he kept the truth relegated to his personal journal and mental interviews with Jimmy Kimmel while he practiced for superstardom in the shower. At least one other person should hear how he willingly tangled himself in Asia Scott's web. "I actually saw her when she interviewed. Bad, bro. I'm talkin' make you stop in your tracks just to watch her walk by type fine. Had me stuck at the coffee bar looking stupid."

Brandon hummed as he pushed Kelvin's head down to start his cut. "Mhmm. That's how it starts, for real. She said something to you first, or what?"

"Nah, I approached her. Not even trying to cross that line, really. I was supposed to just say what's up and keep it professional, but I couldn't stop talking after that. Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only. "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her."

"Sound like you got it bad, my boy."

Kelvin released an air he didn't know he was holding through his nose. "Yeah, man. I like her. A lot, actually. I'm thinkin' about saying something when we go out tonight, but…I don't know. It might not be the right time considering what I got goin' on."

"They must be talkin' 'bout some money in Chicago."

"And then some," Kelvin added. "Crazy perks, revenue share, development plans. My whole life might change."

A loose connection from portfolio school and an expensive cold brew on a rainy weekday afternoon turned Kelvin's professional world upside down in less than two weeks. Initially, he wasn't interested in a move, even if the current work was no longer challenging and forward motion had stalled. His job was easy, flexible, and enough to pay the bills with a little extra on the side. But, a half-hour chemistry meeting with two creative leads over Zoom ran fifteen minutes too long from vibes alone. Then, solid chemistry turned into a first-round interview with a few department heads ogling over his professional and personal work for almost an hour before promising to keep in touch. Radio silence on their end for over a week convinced Kelvin that the circus was over, and he was free to go back to his life of easy money for even easier work. Hell, he didn't want to live in cold-ass Chicago anyway.

Then the phone rang. And the inbox blew up. Flights got booked. Hotel arrangements were made. Hasty, last-minute PTO requests were granted in good faith. Tired eyes shielded by blue light lenses watched clouds part over a glittering city from thousands of feet in the air. A non-traditional second-round interview over piping hot pizza turned him into the center of attention. Corporate banter while he sipped freezing cold beer in lower-level seats at a Bulls game ended with a handshake and Kelvin sensing that he'd have a decision on his hands in the coming weeks.

Asia. She popped into his mind more than a few times while too-cool advertising types wined and dined him in hopes his talent would fill out their roster. All of the progress, all of the accidentally tender moments and slip-ups he knew in his heart were more than happy accidents flooded him with ceaseless anxiety. Sure, he could see them planning weekend trips back and forth to keep the flame alive in a budding relationship. Long-distance courtship wasn't ideal, but he'd manage for her. However, his feelings about the matter were inconsequential. One false move, and he'd be out of a friend and potential lover. The thought alone threatened to upend a night he'd carefully planned since they agreed to their unconventional arrangement.

The soft buzz of clippers near his right ear rescued Kelvin from spiraling as chunks of dead hair fell around him.

"Aye, man, I ain't no love expert or nothing, but," Brandon started, his attention far off while he focused on his money-making blend. "You like her. I could tell when you brought her over to us that night, but I ain't wanna blow up your spot. Might as well say something. Why you wanna go to Chicago with regrets? You already 'bout to be up there with a slaw ass haircut because I ain't givin' up no contacts. Lose my number after this, nigga."

Kelvin kissed his teeth and waved Brandon off. "I deleted your contact this morning if we being honest. Been tired of your ass."

Shared laughter between two men who'd seen each other, from the naivety of boyhood to the hurdles and joys on the journey to becoming a man, added levity to a bitter inner storm. Kelvin tried to savor the moment and advice without dwelling on impending decisions but found the task harrowing once he popped the bubble they'd created to re-enter the real world.

Regrets. Kelvin had a lot of them. Skipping out on senior prom, not answering his sister's FaceTime call for free Kendrick Lamar tickets, choosing that sketchy roommate to make ends meet in his first year out of school – the list went on and on. Asia couldn't be one of them. Not knowing if there could've been more would gnaw at him til kingdom come, and he didn't have room to harbor more what-ifs.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Asia, half listening to instructions with sweaty palms and a heart nearly cracking ribs in his chest, Kelvin resolved to use his last bits of nerve to step out on a limb.

Sax heavy jazz selections wrapped a rented test kitchen and the couples within its walls in a sensual embrace under dim yellow light. Kelvin had TikTok and a favor to thank for snagging the final spot in Shawn and Terricka's coveted Couples Night In cooking course. In one night, he and Asia would take a culinary trip to Italy, complete with expert wine pairings and handmade pasta to bring them together as two parts of a whole. Kelvin couldn't say he was much of a fettuccine, linguini, bow tie, rigatoni guy. Still, he'd never forget how Asia's face lit up when she showed him videos of young women making noodles from scratch. He went to the ends of the Earth and his wallet to orchestrate an experience she wouldn't forget on a night when every detail down to the minute required perfection.

"Are you listening?" Asia asked with a teasing smile as she adjusted the complementary apron, shielding her from what was sure to be a mess if she had anything to do with it.

He puffed his chest and straightened before clapping his hands and looking around their station at the ingredients in front of them. "Y-yeah. I heard everything she said. Eggs, flour, this thing…" He paused to satisfy his curiosity with a single crank of the pasta roller's handle before continuing. "It's, uh…all here."

Asia watched him search the depths of his mind for any crumb of retained information, enjoying the way his lips shifted back and forth in pensive silence.

Overhead light bathed Kelvin in a flattering glow, making the small stud in his ear and the watch on his wrist shine each time he moved his head. A soft black cashmere cardigan cradled strong arms, while his signature crisp white T-shirt displayed his broadening chest. His fresh haircut and trimmed facial hair sent tingles to all the right places, reminding Asia of the first time she noticed he was fine.

"You're cute when you pretend you know what you're doing."

Kelvin gave her a half smile without tearing his eyes away from the short list of step-by-step instructions in his hand. "Oh yeah? Only then?"

"Well, all the time. But especially when you're thinking. Like how you're trying to remember Terricka's instructions when she hasn't even given us any yet. She was introducing the class and telling us we'd be sharing a little about ourselves in a bit.”

A sheepish grin preceded a gentle bump against Asia's forearm before Kelvin's shoulders bounced in quiet laughter. "Why you doin' me like that? If you didn't look so damn good in this dress, we'd have a problem."

"Oh, so it's the dress?" Asia quipped as Kelvin leaned back for a better look.

He nodded and reached out to pull her closer by the waist. His lips quickly found a home on her ear to keep their conversation private in a room full of chattering adults. "It's more than the dress. You're gorgeous, baby."

Sweet compliments mumbled against soft, brown skin drowned out couple after couple sharing their names, length of relationship, and fun facts until a loud hand clap snapped Asia and Kelvin's attention to the center of the room.

"And you two," Shawn questioned with all eyes directed toward the youngest two in attendance. "Tell us about your love."

Kelvin gripped Asia tighter and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm Kelvin, and this is Asia."

"Hey, y'all," Asia chimed with a quick wave.

"And we're…" Kelvin looked at Asia, smiling at her while she smiled back at him, to find an explanation for what they'd been doing for a month. "We're enjoying our time together." His gaze remained steadfast on Asia's bashful grin. "Maybe we'll finish tonight on a different note, though."

Red wine, teamwork, and a stack of questions printed on thick white note cards would ensure that the pair at least ended their first date with a greater understanding of each other. Asia learned Kelvin was an artist in every sense of the word. He preferred freestyling the tedious pasta recipe when directions called for specificity in every regard. Asia kept them on task, but not without redirecting her excitable companion along the way.

Kelvin quickly discovered that all of Asia's know-how completely disappeared when faced with kitchen matters. She didn't know a ¼ cup from a half and didn't have any intentions of learning. Her forte was delegating tasks, not sullying her painted fingernails and oiled cuticles with egg yolks and wet dough.

Separately, they were a clusterfuck of missing parts trying to navigate an arduous task. Together, though, they crafted the best mafaldine their instructors for the night had ever seen from amateurs.

Tucked in a corner at the far end of the space's makeshift eating area, Kelvin and Asia plucked cards one after the other in a back-and-forth Q&A over flavorful mafaldine pasta bolognese.

"Mm, this is a good one," Asia said after a sip of cabernet. "What is your favorite thing about your partner? What's one thing you would change?"

Kelvin twirled pasta around his fork and thought for a moment. "You don't take a lot of shit. I like that you're very direct and in charge of what you want."

"And something you would change?"

"That's easy," he answered through a chew. "You're too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself how everyone else sees you. I know you think we're all just being nice, but you really are incredible. I love watching you blossom." Kelvin watched Asia digest his words over her glass, the wheels churning in her active mind. He reached across the table to grab another card. "What's one thing you want me to know about our relationship?"

That I'm falling for you, and I don't want this to end. One hundred answers flooded in at once, but Asia settled on one. "I want you to know how appreciative I am for…all this. You've been kind when you could've called me a loser and left me in that bar to be with your friends."

"I wouldn't have done that, Asia. Not to you."

"I know," Asia assured as she dragged the last vowel. "But, you could've. So, thank you for being so kind and patient. By tomorrow, that'll all be done, and we'll go back to our lives, so I didn't wanna miss the chance to let you know how I feel."

Confusion made Kelvin tilt his head to one side, studying her face under the haze of full-bodied wine and growing affection. "Go back to my life? Where's that coming from?"

"I just mean, it seems like we're coming to the natural end of this thing we're doing. We'll still be friends, but you'll be free to fly. Maybe sweep somebody off their feet. You're good at that," Asia clarified, her smile lingering as the familiar bloom of feelings coursing through her veins made her stomach flutter.

Kelvin placed his fork against his plate before pulling the napkin from his lap and depositing it on the table. No regrets. Now or never. A short laugh brought with it a charming grin aimed at his favorite girl.

"Asia, I guess haven't been super clear with you from the start," He started while motioning for her hand in the center of the table. Asia answered his wordless call and placed her fingers in the center of his warm palm. He leaned closer, hoping she could detect his eyes' sincerity when he finally breathed out, "I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?"

Asia sat stone still and unblinking for a moment, mulling over words she had only dreamt of hearing from another. An explicit declaration of intent – feeling foreign in her ears but familiar to a heart that longed for reciprocation.

Her thumb caressed the back of Kelvin's hand as a smile spread her cheeks to their limit and deepened dimples she almost forgot existed. "Guess I'm a better kisser than I thought, huh?"

"Actually, I don't know. Let me check real quick." Metal dragging across stained concrete brought Kelvin's chair closer to Asia until their knees touched, transferring heat between their bodies. His fingers grazed her jawline, never averting his attention from her equally unwavering gaze. "Come here."

Asia's favorite command, delivered in a sultry mumble, made hair all over her body stand straight up as they moved to meet each other in the middle.

One tentative peck introduced a slow progression of deep, passionate kisses, translating latent feelings into a language only bodies could speak. A barely audible moan slipped out of Asia's mouth when Kelvin nipped at her lip, reminding them an audience wasn't far away. They pulled away slowly with equally glazed-over eyes and goofy grins.

Kelvin smiled and swiped at Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Way better." He listened to her sweet giggle, grinning back until the sound reminded him of the question left unanswered. "Look, four weeks didn't spark how I feel about you. They helped, don't get me wrong, but I knew I wanted you as more than a friend the second you strolled into that office. If we're not on the same page, I understand. But if there's any chance we are, any chance –"

"We're on the same page, same sentence, same word. But we can talk about what all that means tomorrow, okay?" Carnal desire propelled Asia forward for another slow kiss and feather-soft caress that threatened to bring Kelvin to his knees. She inched away to keep her lips on his as she spoke. "Right now, take me home. I don't wanna wait anymore."

------

Hopefully, Alister liked SZA.

As barely intelligible love songs oozed from her Bluetooth speaker, Asia attempted to stifle sounds of pleasure with her forearm pressed against her mouth and one leg draped lazily over her lover's shoulder. Languid, thorough oral affection kept her lower back levitated off the mattress. Soft moaning melding with subtle slurping and smacking treated her ears to a beautiful symphony catered to her.

Kelvin's fingers pressed into Asia's flesh to keep her steady while he lapped at the beginning of what he hoped was only her first orgasm for the night. Nervousness had him self-conscious. Skills he'd practiced and mastered long before she stepped into his life felt foreign. Was he doing it right? Did she like it? Was she happy? He suppressed the urge to question her satisfaction, instead leaning on every wanton sigh and muffled moan as proof he was on the right path.

"Oh my God," Asia whispered to the ceiling. "Don't stop!"

Immeasurable euphoria washed over her naked body as her hips bucked to accommodate electric shocks from head to toe. Hey, eyes crossed behind closed lids. Her toes curled while all ten fingers gripped the sheets.

"One down," Kelvin thought to himself as he smiled against thighs pressed tight to his face.

If not for her hand prying his face away after she'd exhausted herself from cumming, he'd start from scratch and bring her to the mountaintop until his jaws locked. But, he relented under her breathless pleas for a break.

Slowly, Kelvin kissed his way up Asia's belly, making pit stops at both breasts and his favorite spot beneath her right ear before connecting their lips. They groaned at her taste intermingling with remnants of alcohol while their tongues reacquainted in a waltz too perfect to be a sin. He could feel his rational thoughts running south to stiffen his neglected member against briefs, growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

Kelvin shifted his attention back to Asia's neck so he could speak against the spot. "You feel ready or need more?" His tongue sliding across the pulsing stretch of hot skin made Asia shiver under his body weight. He smiled and pulled back to get a better look at Asia's face. "You feel ready. Talk to me, pretty."

"Okay," she answered as her arms encircled his neck. "Promise you'll go slow?"

He nodded before dipping his head to peck her lips. "As slow as you need. I'll take care of you."

Years of waiting for someone to cherish her enough to take the plunge had culminated in undergarments discarded across the room and a single sleeve of thin latex covered in expensive lube separating her from the only man to see her in her most vulnerable form.

This was it. This was the moment. She'd dreamed about it plenty of times, imagining the most minute details, from the weather to how she'd sound at the height of her climax. Mirages filled with rose petals on the floor and a soft breeze coming through the window made up a scenario better suited for a romance novel than the reality of finally releasing pent-up sexual tension.

Asia expected pain for the first time. She'd heard the horror stories and done enough research to know what was waiting on the other side of first-time penetration. Breathing recommendations and practiced facial expressions to mask her true feelings came flooding back to the front of her mind as Kelvin ran his palms up and down her hips to soothe her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She held her breath. Waiting, anticipating limb-splitting fire to consume her body.

But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder.

Asia gripped Kelvin's tensed bicep while he stilled deep in her heat, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. "You okay," He questioned through shallow pants.

"Mhmm," she hummed before reaching to bring his face closer. "You feel so good already." Kelvin closed his eyes to will away premature release while she pulsed around him. Asia stroked his cheek and arched into his chest to beg him to move inside her. "Please. I trust you, Kel. It's okay."

As promised, Kelvin started slow, rolling his hips into her for shallow strokes that made Asia's voice hoarse and her head spin. He reveled in the feel of ridged walls greeting his arrival as they tugged and released him according to pace. He lowered himself into the crook of her neck and felt instant relief when she cradled him close. The bed creaked in time to every measured back and forth, adding another layer to the duet their individual moaning created.

Hot, slick skin on crumpled cold sheets wouldn't allow Asia to drift too far into La La Land. She feasted on Kelvin digging deeper and gripping her tighter while her body did the work to accommodate inch after glorious inch.

Kelvin tried to remain quiet, tempering each grunt and unidentifiable sound as his hips loosened to find a rhythm perfect enough to elicit high-pitched mewls from the apple of his eye while she dug her fingernails into his back.

"Look at you," Kelvin cooed as he pushed back up onto his forearms to get the full experience of Asia's face twisting in pleasure. "You're so fucking pretty. Open your eyes."

"Kel…"

He moved to bring one leg up to his waist for a new angle. "I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." He waited patiently for Asia to force her sagging lids open enough to reveal the punchdrunk haze of a methodical fucking. He smiled down at her. "There she is. How you feelin'?"

"So…oh my God…so good."

"That's what I like to hear. I feel you getting close. You feel that?"

A long, choppy moan came out before Asia's slurred response. "Mhmm. I think I'm…. mmm, I think I'm… I'm close."

"Yeah, you are. Relax for me. Breathe deep." Asia tried to keep track of instructions but lost the plot and her sense of hearing the moment Kelvin slipped his hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb.

The barely familiar coil of release tightened in her lower abdomen as Kelvin rocked into her while whispering sweet everything onto the corner of her mouth. Asia wrapped her arms around his shoulders for stability, anticipating the first wave of heat trying to prepare her body for something more intense.

Her breathing grew rigid. The world slipped away pixel by pixel. Thoughts turned into mush. Kelvin's instructions returned as fleeting anecdotes. Asia tried to breathe through it but found the task playing second fiddle to the natural tense and release of her thighs around his waist.

In through your nose, Asia. The reminder pinged around the empty corners of her mind until they found a way to burrow into the only functioning part of her brain.

Kelvin watched her cycle through a range of all too familiar feelings from overhead, pride, and a competitive spirit he thought he left in high school, convincing him to go above and beyond. He drove his hips a little harder to hear the headboard thumb against paper-thin drywall. Added pressure on her sensitive button was the magic key to turning a small pond into one of the great lakes.

Asia's jaw dropped to force out a throaty, "Fuck, baby…yes!" before he eased up to allow her to experience all the joy of post-coital bliss without the overstimulation. He'd save that for another time if the universe allowed.

Sabrina was so wrong about what to expect. All Asia's hang-ups about ending the night unsatisfied or unimpressed were washed away as sensation returned to her fingers and toes.

"Kiss me." It's all she wanted – Kelvin's lips on hers until her oxygen became his.

They lay there, hot, sweaty, and still connected at the waist while Kelvin pressed tender kisses on Asia's lips. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "You called me 'baby.'"

"I know," she answered as she brought her hand up to rub a spot at the base of his neck. "I meant to. Don't make me regret it."

Guilt smacked into Kelvin like an 18-wheeler, but he maintained his composure to maintain the hopeful smile on Asia's face. "I won't."

"Good. Don't hold back on me this time. I want all of you."

"This time" turned into another, a short break and a few more for good measure while SZA sang them into the wee hours of the morning. Kelvin poured himself into making every minute worth Asia's while as a reward for trusting him with her body.

Chicago and its host of budding issues belonged to another day. He wasn't leaving the room, her apartment, or the city with any regrets. Not while he still had so many more lessons to teach.

-------

Reply if you'd liked to be tagged. DM if you’d like to be removed.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @thevelvetwhispers @wowitsafemale @kindofaintrovert @sexysativa605 @jvzmine19 @turn-thy-paige @lapateeserie @simplyzeeka @supremechae @palmstreesallday @blackmoonchilee @ovohanna24 @prettypynklemonade @gwenda-fav @itsash-okay @sparklytemi @blackchickinthedesert @miyuhpapayuh

#kumkaniudaku #kelvin harrison jr. x black oc #kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr fics #kelvin harrison jr. smut #fav writers #kelvin x asia #no like omg manifesting fr i dont think you understand like from your keyboard to God’s ears.#your writing makes me excited at the thought of attempting at love and romance and all the things cuz like its legit changed my perspective #im still high but like frfr tho #i mean it 🥰🙏🏿💜🫶🏿

322 notes · View notes

ghostgirl-22 · 12 hours ago

Note

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to but..

patrick spiking arts drink with like viagra or an aphrodisiac and then “helping him out” because he’s such a good friend <3

Oh but I want to!! <3

This is post Artrick and Patashi break up and Patrick and Art end up in Vegas at the same bachelor party for a high school friend. Maybe Art has it coming? Maybe Patrick is like the best friend he’s ever had <3

Heed all warnings cause Patrick is totally remorseless and unlike everyone who does something bad in those old black and white movies I’ve been watching lately, he absolutely gets away with it. Sorry not sorry!

CW: intoxication, secret drugging, cnc, dub con (in the sense that Art doesn’t have all the information, but he wants it, he told me). This is pretty much what it says in the ask. Obviously don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable. Not proofread.

—-

It’s bad and wrong, and wrong, and so fucking wrong.

Patrick might tell the truth later. Might let Art get back at him because even for him this is kinda fucked up. But to be fair, he only did it because he was horny. And maybe he wanted a little revenge.

It all started at the bachelor party. It’s the first time they’d seen each other since Tashi’s injury and everything.

Both of them trying to put it all aside for their high school buddy Addison’s Vegas bachelor party. He’s hosting it with his husband to be…this older, rich tech company guy. Patrick thinks it’s a bit annoying. Even if he was gonna marry some dude he wouldn’t want the guy crashing his bachelor party— he should have his own and hang out with his own friends. but that’s beside the point.

Patrick thought Art wouldn’t dare show up because Patrick was always closer with Addison. Art probably thought the same thing about him. And yet…surprise.

Thankfully they barely have a minute alone together sober. Sober, Art is so cool.

Cool.

Cold.

Icy, even.

Totally Remorseless. They make small talk. He’s dating her now, the little shit. She’s coaching him. He’s playing Indian Wells in a few months. Patrick ponders hating Art. He doesn’t know if he’s quite there yet but it feels like he’s close.

He still looks so pretty though.

It’s a reunion of sorts. A lot of their old teammates came. Addison rented the penthouse suite in the Bellagio, private elevator, crazy views… fifteen guys… seven rooms, not that anyone plans to sleep.

Art and Patrick had been known to read each others minds in the past and it feels like that hasn’t changed. Apparently they’ve silently agreed that the last thing they want is people asking things like… “what the fuck happened? you two used to be so close.” Which is how they end up in this unspoken truce pretending like it’s all normal between them. All the way down to the expectation of them sharing a room. Which is fine because, again, no one is really planning on sleeping.

Everyone meets up in the afternoon and they start in the casino. Getting tipsy on watered down liquor while they all spend way too much money. All of them rich kids, or recovering rich kids. Patrick’s not using his parents money but he’s still reckless like he is, so certain he’s gonna make it all back on the craps table. Art doesn’t gamble so Patrick decides to make him blow on his dice, as a joke the way girls do in movies. of course he wins it all back and quite a bit more on a real risky bet. It’s annoying in the way. He’s glad he won but it feels like it’s Art that can’t lose. Suddenly everyone at the table is asking him to bless their dice. Like he’s just so fucking lucky all the time.

Patrick doesn’t push his own luck. Whatever the fuck is left of it.

The whole group cleans up and goes out to dinner in the evening. They catch up on their lives since school and tell silly, fun, embarrassing stories to Addison’s husband to be. Afterwords they go to a show. A magic show. Tipsy and cheering at the tricks like they’re back in 6th grade. It’s easy. It’s fun, actually. He barely has to be alone with Art.

By 11pm they’ve started bouncing around the strip from club to club. Bar to bar. Party to party. Mostly gay bars and drag shows which no one minds because honestly they all just love Addison so much. They’re getting properly drunk now.

It’s then when Art begins getting attention on a level that even he’s not used to from all these really hot guys… that’s when everything gets messy. Drunk and flushed, Art has no idea how to receive any of it except to turn all his repressed homosexual energy back onto the safest target. Patrick.

“We’ll just pretend to be together, you know? So they stop…touching me.” He explains loudly in Patrick’s ear.

Patrick smiles, just about drunk enough to put up with this bullshit. “Okay…fine… whatever… fuck it.”

It doesn’t feel pretend though, especially when they end up soaking wet at this all night foam party just downstairs in their hotel. It’s way too late at night, so many guys jumping up and down all sweaty and hot. Boys kissing. Touching. Shirts unbuttoned, the music too loud, skin too soft. Art hanging all over him, so drunk they actually start grinding to the music. The bass competing with Patrick’s heartbeat for which can go faster. Feelings so complicated Patrick might need 24 hours in the psych ward to sort it all out.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right?

Patrick needs a minute. He leaves Art alone, barely able to take anymore. He uses the excuse of needing the restroom. It’s not even a second before at least two guys are swooping in, competing to take his place, one of them their other teammate Lachlan who’s got a wife at home and a child on the way.

God.

Patrick needs another fucking drink. Addisons already at the bar and Patrick leans in next to him.

“What’s that?” He asks Addison as he’s adding powder to his glass.

“It’s a magic pill,” Addison laughs.

”Magic?” Patrick hiccups.

“Yeah like… like horny candy.”

Patrick pouts, brows raised in confusion. maybe he’s a little too drunk for this game.

“Viagra. Sometimes i spike my boyfriend— my fiancés drink with it. See.” He holds up a little pill and crushes it under his glass on the bar

Patrick laughs. “Isn’t that kinda fucked up?”

“Well…I mean… probably yes… but you know he’s older. So I feel like I’m doing this for his ego.” Addison explains.

“Hm,” Patrick ponders. “Have you ever tried it?”

“I’ve had a sip of his drink before when i didn’t want him to know i spiked it. We ended up going at it all fucking night.” Addison grins. “It’s not necessarily for guys our age…but there’s no harm in it as long as it doesn’t last more than four hours i guess. which is easy if you just fuck. Here. You can take one with your… boyfriend? girlfriend?”

the way Patrick feels right now, his dick is so hard he can’t even fathom the point of viagra but he lets Addison drop the pill in his hand anyway. who knows? He’ll be 24 in six months. A proper grown up. maybe his dick will be the next part of his body that will lose the will to live.

“Are you still bisexual Pat?” Addison leans in stroking Patrick’s bare chest. “Cause we’re kinda open and wouldn’t mind trying it with you tonight, and you know… the more the merrier if you want blondie to join us.”

They both glance at Art, dancing all drunk and unabashed between both guys. their hands all over his lithe figure while the speaker blares Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.

Patrick rolls his eyes and looks back at Addison. “He may be a fucking tease but we both know he would never. But I think I need more to drink before I get back to you.”

“Well…You know where to find us… preferably before this kicks in!” Addison raises his glass.

Patrick waves to the bartender, fingering the pill in his other hand. Then it sort of hits him like a ton of bricks. This nasty idea. More than a little fucked up. He almost wants to touch himself just thinking about it.

He orders two drinks. Rum and coke. Nothing crazy different than what they’ve been drinking all night. Crushes the pill into dust under the cold glass and swirls his finger with the powder into the glass he wants to give to Art..

Oh he feels a little gross. Most people around him too drunk… the bartender too busy to notice what he’s doing.

Art doesn’t think twice; he trusts Patrick so much. What a wonder to betray someone and still think you can trust them so completely. like none of it matters. Art let’s Patrick “save” him from the other boys touching him.

“I swear i feel like Lach was turned on,” he hiccups, swallowing the drink down. “Like I could feel his… you know what.” He continues in Patrick’s ear.

”Really? Could you?” Patrick asks, dryly. Stupid. He still acts so… innocent oblivious. Patrick just wants to fuck shake him. He’s beyond hating Art. He doesn’t hate him. Could never hate him. He does hate that after all this fucking time he’s still not over him.

It doesn’t take long for Art to feel it. He’s back to clinging to Patrick. All over him as a way to keep the other boys away. Patrick starts to notice him adjusting himself, getting breathy, getting anxious. Gripping a little too tightly.

“Uh I need um…um… is it too hot in here?” He says in Patrick’s ear. “I need water.”

“What?” Patrick asks like he didn’t hear him. Keeps his body pressed close, hot breath in Patrick’s ear.

“The room… I think I need to go back to the room.”

Patrick shrugs. They tell a couple of the guys they’re leaving. And of course get teased for being lightweights at 4 in the morning. Only in Vegas.

Art has his eyes closed, knees knocked together, too drunk, so aroused. He’s resting the side of his head against the wall of the private elevator as they make their way up to penthouse.

”Sleepy?” Patrick asks, standing in his space.

Art’s all glassy eyed, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide when he gazes at Patrick. “Um… yeah… yeah.” He stammers.

Patrick smirks, tangles his fingers into Arts damp hair. He hums, eyes closed immediately, lips parted. And then the elevator dings and Patrick lets go. Arts eyes open and he stumbles out behind Patrick.

In the room Art’s trying to hide it from Patrick. Trying to keep himself together. He drinks a lot of water from the mini fridge. Tries to go in the bathroom but Patirck gets there first. Not to pee or anything, he’s too fucking hard for that. Probably just to keep Art from jerking himself silly over the toilet.

Patrick strips down to his boxers for sleep. Brushes his teeth in the mirror. The whole time he’s tenting, so ridiculously aroused, thinking of Art squirming, Viagra unknowingly coursing through his system.

Patrick decides he’s probably not a good person but right now he doesn’t fucking care.

He reaches inside his boxers to adjust himself before returning to the bedroom, but he has to touch himself just a little first. A few gentle jerks over the length of his dick and he’s catching his breath. He tucks himself up, snug against the waistband of his boxers and takes a few deep breaths.

When he walks back in the bedroom, Art is sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand down his pants, tugging himself, little soft moans escaping his lips. He panics when he sees Patrick and tries to save face but it’s kinda too late.

“Uh sorry… uh… it’s not—”

“You like boys Art?” Patrick teases.

“No… I just… I think I’m overstimulated.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I… I… it was a lot of touching. I was…” he takes a deep breath. “I mean I know I was a little bit um… turned on when they were…when the three of us were…when I could feel…”

“When they had you sandwiched between them?”

”Fuck.” He whispers. “yeah a little…i guess more than I thought.” He admits.

Patrick sits next to him on the bed. “Yeah me too.” He pads his palm over the outline of his own cock.

Art staring, fingers gripping the sheets as he whispers a barely audible, “Jesus.”

“We could… maybe… help each other out,” Patrick suggests.

Art looks up at his face, eyes narrowed.

”I mean nothing would change. It’d just be a one time favor between… old friends.”

Art looks down again, knee bouncing. Desperate enough to say: “Okay um…you mean like jerk off together? Like in high school?”

“Or…” Patrick gets on his knees on the floor in front him.

“Patrick I—I’m not gonna do—“ he stammers.

“I’m not asking you to… do you want me to do it to you or not?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and then he nods.

Patrick moves between his thighs and tugs his zipper down further, eases his boxers down and hears Art let out a gentle gasp as his cock is released. Oh it’s painfully full. Poor thing he’s practically humping into Patrick’s mouth the moment he gets contact.

“Mm, fuck,” Art sighs relieved to get the sensation. Patrick almost wants to touch himself. Can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears while licking all along the base. Taking his time, swirling his tongue around the tip. He looks up at Art as he does it. He’s got his eyes closed, one hand holding himself upright on the bed and two fingers of his other hand shoved deep into his mouth as he moans around them.

Oh. Right. Fucking oral fixation. Patrick’s drunk brain vaguely supplies.

He’s distracted for a minute while kissing along the tip, licking, teasing, sucking and watching Art slide his fingers into and out of his mouth. Gorgeous little thing.

Patrick severely underestimates how close he is. And suddenly his face is getting painted with heated pearly liquid. “Oh.. ohfuckfuck’msorry… fuck.” Art groans around his fingers, hitching his hips involuntarily as more and more spurts out.

Patrick opens his mouth and catches some on his tongue, he can’t help laughing a bit at how fucking crazy all of this is. On the floor of the penthouse suite at the Bellagio and he’s on his knees for his ex best friend who’s all drugged out on harddick medicine, and probably just gave him his first ever facial.

Patrick wipes a lot of it off on his arm and thumbs some of the excess off his cheek and nose, licking it into his mouth. “Well fuck.” He breathes. “You got a lot of that in you.”

“Oh god…I didn’t mean to…Jesus, Pat look….” Art whines. Somehow he’s still almost as hard as he was before.

Patrick runs his fingertips gently over the length, still spasming lightly. “You really had fun tonight huh?”

“Oh fuck… this never… this never h-happens.” He stammers.

“Really? You don’t get this turned on for women?”

Art presses his lips together, like he doesn’t want to admit to anything. He sits on his hands. “I um…”

“Why don’t we try this,” Patrick says. “Don’t freak out…” He goes to his travel bag for lube.

“What—“ Art begins when he sees it.

“I said relax,” Patrick says.

Art leans back on his elbows as Patrick straddles him. “What are we doing?”

“You already fucking jizzed in my face, just relax. You owe me this.”

Art takes another shaky breath. Patrick covers his palm in lube and covers Art’s heavy, swollen cock. Art groans and shivers at the feel of it. So fucking sensitive. Patrick eases his own out and then takes them both in hand, lined up he starts jerking. Both of them moaning immediately, like a chorus, the sound filling up the room.

It’s sinful actually. The way it sounds. It’s probably something that would’ve made Art cry when he was 14 and so very afraid of drinking alcohol and swear words and sex before marriage.

Now he’s moaning like a whore around his fingertips, hips jerking up into Patrick’s fist, both of their cocks heated and swollen. Patrick is barely hanging on. He wonders if anyone else came home. If they can hear them fucking, neither of them holding back as Patrick moves faster and faster.

Art falls apart seconds later, come coating Patrick’s palm, dripping between his fingers. and then Patrick’s following shortly after. Shooting spurts of come, aiming some at Art’s bare chest maybe as a little bit of payback. “Take them out of your mouth,” Patrick hisses. Art gazes up at him and slowly pulls his fingers out.

Patrick pushes him all the way down on the bed and kisses him roughly. Art drawing his knees up, socked feet flat on the bed and arching into it. Tongues and spit everywhere. Patrick taking a minute to replace his lips on Art’s mouth with his come stained fingers. just to feel the eager way Art sucks them in, pulling hard with his tongue. If Art realizes he’s tasting himself, tasting Patrick, he isn’t complaining.

Patrick pulls out, wet and sloppy and turns Art’s pretty face back into the kiss, deepening it till he’s moaning into Patrick’s mouth. Doing everything he can for more of the sensation. Grinding his hips up, his still heavy cock sliding along Patrick’s bottom.

“Oh fuck,” Patrick groans because it’s still so hard. “You wanna fuck me?”

“mm, my god,” is all Art can manage.

“I won’t tell your girlfriend.”

That draws him out of whatever messy trance he’s in and Art pulls away from Patrick, panting. “Oh god… why won’t it go away? ‘m is there something wrong with me?” He whines, suddenly teary eyed.

“Like what?” Patrick asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to over do it.

“I dunno… I dunno. I’m so… did i drink too much? I just… i just wanna… i feel so fucking horny…and I can’t calm down. I just… i wanna just… fuck. I’m… I’m so sorry, Patrick.”

Tired and drunk and overstimulated from all the sex he starts getting emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything. I think I love you. I think I’m fucking in love with you, Patrick. I think about you all the time when I’m fuck—”

”Okay shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps gently, because the last thing he wants is to feel bad for him on a sentence like that. The last thing he wants is to spiral thinking about the two of them together getting everything they want without him. “You want my help?”

”Yes,” Art sniffles.

“Here…” he hands Art the rest of the lube. “put this on and just… you can fuck me till you’re all fucked out. just imagine I’m a fucking fleshlight or something.”

“Really?” He hiccups, and he looks so grateful like he’s gonna cry again.

“Hey… come on, stop man. Just… I’m doing you a favor. Don’t fucking cry about it.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and wipes his nose on the back of his palm. “I’m sorry. you’re right. Thank you so much. I’m sorry.”

Patrick rolls his eyes and settles onto the pillow. he’s going to hell probably. Art is so fucking drunk, thinks he’s just trying to come down from some normal night where he got too overwhelmed. He thinks Patrick is just being such a good friend.

It’s so fucking messed up but honestly it also feels really fucking good. Covered in lube. His unbearably repressed ex best friends dick, the same dick he’s been dreaming about since the first time he saw it. That pretty dick pumping in and out of him over and over again.

“And don’t worry,” he whispers to Art. “it’s not even gay” because Patrick is just helping him relax. “It’s not even real sex I promise.” Even though Patrick can’t count how many times Art comes. Maybe 4, maybe 7. How many times Patrick’s nutted all over the pristine hotel sheets. He knows he’s managed to spill at least 3 times before Art is finally done, done. And Patrick is covered in his come and sweat and spit and tears he couldn’t be happier.

Art nearly wets himself in his rush to get to the bathroom after it all. Probably just relieved to finally be able to go.

Patrick is so pleasantly sore and drunk and warm. He’s still covered in the sticky mess of it, knowing it’ll be much grosser on waking but he can’t bring himself to move. Art stumbles, back into the king sized bed, moving away from the wet spot but still burying his head near the crook of Patrick’s head and shoulder. So yummy.

He’ll probably tell Art at some point, maybe. Possibly. But right now the city is hungover, the sun is peeking in through the black out curtains and Patrick hasn’t felt this satisfied in a very long time. So easy… he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

(Flop era going strong. Sorry so long y’all. I couldn’t stop yapping.)

#challengers fic #challengers smut #artrick #art x patrick #tw: dubcon #tw: drugging #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut

58 notes · View notes