#zizi yaps... again

[let-zizi-yap]

I miss when even their ads were a little authentic 😔😭😭😭 @prettygirl-gabi

[moghraidhs]

yapping in the discord got me thinking and then i had to write something, so here's some josie/zizi/bucky using the prompt "waiting" from the rewatch list :))

Dear Zizi,

I promised myself I'd never start a letter asking how you are. It's mundane and I know you'd hate it, so I won't.

That aside, I still miss you. I thought now the war is over the need to belong together would lessen and I would begin to feel more ordinary about you, but it turns out that's impossible. You're in my bones as much as if you were part of me, as much as John is. Before the war that might have terrified me. It still does, but I find now that the comfort outweighs the fear.

My arm is fine. The doctors think I'm making good progress. I can see you frowning at me, so please know this is not a lie and yes, I am taking medicine when I need it. John makes sure of that. For someone who hated being Air Exec he's incredibly bossy when the situation calls for it. Something you know as well.

The brass think we'll be returning to the States in the next few weeks. I didn't think I would miss Thorpe Abbotts, but now that the time to leave is almost here, I don't want to go. There are too many memories, too many ghosts. It seems cruel to abandon them an ocean away and pretend as though they never happened. I don't want to forget any of it—I can't.

I miss you. I know I said it before, but I'll say it again because it's still true. I know there are some things I can't understand, just as John and I have our own ghosts to carry. But if you can never speak of them from now till the end of time, I'm here. I won't leave you no matter what. And if it takes a lifetime for you to believe me, please know I will wait that long too.

I've always been waiting for you. It would be foolish to stop now.

Love,

Josie

~

Hello angel,

I've never been great at writing letters, but Josie's sending hers today so I wanted to try.

Miss you. Feels like I can't breathe sometimes. Used to be I'd get one of the guys to lay into me, just to get my air back, but I'm trying not to do that these days. You told me I didn't deserve it. I want to believe you, but it's hard to remember that sometimes thinking of how many boys aren't coming home. They deserved better.

Josie's doing okay. Doc Stover recommended her to a good hospital in the States. Says she isn't in much pain, but I'm keeping an eye on her just in case. She's as stubborn as you are.

I want to see you again. Fly home with you and Josie, make up for all the time we lost. Howl at the sky like we did on the wing of that B-17. Maybe get a dog (don't tell Josie, I'm still working my way up to talking about it).

Brass says we're headed back in a few weeks. I'll be waiting for you. We both will.

Yours,

Bucky

[vicegrips-fr]

Into the Black

Azizi divulges his upbringing and the horrors that came with it.

-------------------- I’ve debated sharing this on here because to be completely honest it’s very personal and not for everyone. I’ve decided to open up and share it anyway with the appropriate warnings. It’s no secret that I vent through my own ocs to explore the intense abuse I survived and this is one of those lore posts that delves into that. Hopefully some of you will take the time to read it and if not I completely understand. It’s a long one and difficult to read in many ways I’m sure.

Gustav belongs to my boyfriend @wyvernrising!

Warnings: language, themes of parental abuse, drug/alcohol abuse mentions, and unpleasantness abound.

Pings: @fusefr @kattafr @stimmy-dragons -------------------

They’re together for the night. Himself, Gogo, and the Sub Rosa sent to protect them which includes his boyfriend Gustav. There’s an injury to his hand which isn’t self-inflicted but the product of his past come back to bite him in the ass today. Since then they’ve been sharing their stories to pass the time and ease the tension, getting to know each other better and well, now it’s his turn.

“You don’t have to share,” Gogo peeps up sympathetically, scooting closer so that their thighs are pressed together.

He already knows the truth, knows how hard this will be for Azizi to talk about.

Azizi waves a dismissive hand in the air, happily allowing Gus to take hold of the injured one and press a kiss to the knuckles. Some small part of him does care what they’ll think but it’s drowned out by the stubborn I don’t give a shit what you think of me attitude he’s spent a lot of time cultivating for himself. “We’ll see about that,” he says, pouring himself a glass of wine.

He pauses, bottle in hand as his eyes land on Gustav’s glass. There’s still wine inside but he fills it back up to the top for him anyway. Whether he chooses to drink it or not is irrelevant. Maybe he doesn’t want him to; more wine for him.

Their previous compliments earlier in the night did not fall on deaf ears and bring a smile to his face when he remembers them. “Ha! I am a pleasure to be around, aren’t I?” he chuckles, licking his teeth, “If I were a bore then I wouldn’t be netting as much dick as I am on the daily.”

It’s crude but true. He’s popular for a reason and part of it is his bombastic, nasty personality. Truth is sunshine and rainbows have no place in a brothel, no matter how hard Gogo tries to change that fact.

“But you’re right about what you all said,” he sighs, “It’s an ugly story, just like the rest of you have.”

For a solid few seconds he lapses into silence, picking through the pieces of his life inside his head like dusting off an old photo album. None of the pictures inside are things he wants to see, they’re kept in a box for a reason, after all.

“Where to begin?” he muses to himself, swirling the wine in his glass around, transfixed by the dark red liquid sloshing around the sides.

“Like Gustav and Gogo I was born in Neo Necropolis. The slummy part, obviously. My mother’s name was Tiwa but she went by Candy. If that doesn’t tip you off she was a stripper. A popular one, I was told.”

He stops to sip his drink, the mere mention of his mother’s name enough to elicit that response. Jesus. How long has it been since he said her name out loud?

“My father’s name was Ayoola but everyone called him Ayo,” Azizi continues, the wine burning all the way down his throat, “And his biggest claim to fame was his appetite for men and women. He frequented just about every brothel and strip club in a fifteen mile radius.” Azizi looks up, eyes passing over everyone’s faces in favor of focusing on anything but.

“You can all put two and two together and figure out how my parents met,” he laughs without joy, “They were never married, of course, but they lived together and it wasn’t long before I was born. Not like they were kind of people to use protection, but I sort of wish they had.”

It’s a terribly dark thing to say and painfully true. Plenty of people in a bad situation have the same thought- I wish I was never born!- and he can’t count how many times he cursed the world for being forced into it. “They fought all the time,” he says, recalling the first time he was old enough to understand the words they were yelling.

------------------  

”Get off of your ass and do something for once!” Tiwa screams at the top of her lungs, “I work my ass off on the pole every night and you can’t even get off the couch to get Zizi his breakfast? Pathetic!” It's early. Early enough that the sun is only just coming up, bright light streaming in through the dingy window in his bedroom despite the tall buildings that surround their home. It’s not the first time he’s been woken up this early from his parents fighting. His mama is gone all night, returning every morning and sleeping most of the day away, but not before their daily fight. Tail between his legs Azizi tiptoes quietly to the end of the short hallway, his little hands gripping the corner of the wall as he peeks out from behind it to see what’s going on. ”Oh, I’m pathetic?” Ayoola shouts back, “That’s rich coming from a pole crawler who calls herself Candy! The pipsqueak isn’t even up yet so fuck off to bed already and quit your yapping.” Azizi can’t see them from where he’s standing so he lets go of the wall and steps into the living room, ducking back into the hallway as quietly as possible when he catches a glimpse of his father laid out on the sofa, beer bottle in hand. ”No Ayo YOU fuck off,” Tiwa says loudly from the kitchen, bone tired and her tail lashing behind her in anger. “I’m not dealing with this mess when I’ve been up all fucking night, do you hear me? I’m not your mother, I’m your girlfriend and I need your help. We’re barely getting by, for fuck sake. Just… try to be responsible for once in your miserable life. Please.” ”Jesus fucking christ Candy, get a grip,” Ayoola snorts nonchalantly, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the cushions of the couch, “I’ll do the dishes and get the brat his breakfast, alright? Will that shut you up?” Tears in his eyes, Azizi shuffles off back to his bedroom and curls up on the small mattress laid on the floor of his tiny bedroom, pulling the blanket over his head. The shouting continues but it’s muffled through his hands over his ears and, after a little while, he falls back asleep.

-----------------

“It was really annoying,” he scoffs, “How they’d fight over just about everything. It was like they couldn’t help themselves. No matter how small the affront they would manage to find a way to turn it into something more.”

He’s getting off track. Blinking away the memory like it’s nothing, Azizi drinks deeply from his glass and marches forward. “Anyway,” he mutters, taking another small sip, “I was, hm, about eight or nine years old when my mother up and left. I can’t blame her, really. My father was a bum and an addict who brought other men and women home when she wasn’t around. More than once she walked in on him cheating on her and I guess that plus his allergy to contributing anything to the ‘family’ was enough to put the final nail in the coffin. We all have our breaking point.”

-----------------

”Where’s mama?” Azizi asks, tugging lightly on his father’s pant leg. It’s midday and she hasn’t come home yet. Ayoola is passed out on the couch, his dirty hair sticking up in different directions, spit and booze drying in a crust at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t respond right away. It takes Azizi asking the same question a few times before he’s finally roused awake. ”Huh?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open, “Oh. That.” Ayoola doesn’t seem particularly worried about Tiwa’s absence, just slightly annoyed to have been woken up. ”She left,” he sneers, grunting with effort as he pushes himself up and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up underneath him. “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back eventually. Until then how about you go play or something. Daddy is trying to sleep off a cold.”

It would only be a couple more years before Azizi would realize that these frequent ‘colds’ were actually hangovers of varying degrees. A week turns into a month, a few months turn into a year and Tiwa still hasn’t come back. Around the six month mark was when Azizi realized he would never see his mother again. In another three months he would grow angry and resentful, pounding his little fists into the floor because she left him behind. She left him alone with HIM. ”That selfish bitch!” Ayo yells, putting another hole in the wall with his fist, blood seeping from between his fingers, “Leaving me to take care of you by my fucking self! How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?! Tell me how! Where’s the money going to come from?! I’m sinking here! Do you know how many people I owe money to?” Azizi sobs into his hands, tiny body curled up into a ball on the sofa as his father paces back and forth like a caged animal, ranting like a lunatic at the top of his lungs. ”I… I don’t know!” Azizi cries, far too young to understand all of the things his father is saying, “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!” -------------------

“After Candy split the house chores fell to me,” Azizi murmurs darkly, setting his drink down to reach for another cigarette instead, “The cooking, cleaning… Him. Ayoola was a full time job. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had to clean him up after a blackout. Put him on his side and make sure he wouldn’t throw up and drown in his own vomit.”

Azizi pauses, takes a drag from his cigarette and sighs.

“He drank and shot up so much that the floor was littered all over with the aftermath,” Azizi chuckles bitterly, “I’d have to wade through the filth being careful not to stab myself with a used needle, turn him over and check his pulse. Clean the puke off of him with a rag and then pick it all up.”

Gogo sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry on the back of his hand. It’s at this point that he wants to interrupt, to tell Azizi that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to. But as if reading his mind, Azizi looks over at him and smiles sadly. 

“It’s okay, Gogo,” he says as soothingly as he can manage, “I’m fine.”

Another pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, memories he wishes didn’t belong to him. “As I got older we started to fight more and more,” Azizi murmurs, “At that point I really had replaced my mother in almost every way.”

----------------

”Zi! That you?”

”Yeah, it’s me dad,” Azizi replies a little flippantly, “Who the fuck else would it be? One of your booty calls?”

Ayoola snorts with laughter, looking up at him as he walks into the room with bloodshot eyes. ”Have I ever told you that you look like your mother?”

Azizi rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in the doorway.

”Yeah,” he answers flatly, “Like, fifty times this week.” Ayoola nods sadly, head rolling to the side as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again. Frowning, Azizi goes to his room.

----------------

I won’t cry, Azizi thinks, he doesn’t deserve my tears. “Eventually I ran away,” he informs them, unable to bring himself to give them the gorier details of his life, “And I went out with a bang.” Chuckling softly at his own wording, Azizi brings the glass to his lips again. “That makes it sound like I shot him dead,” he hums, “Sadly, I didn’t. We got into a fight, another bad one where he didn’t just use his words to berate me but his fists. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me harder, I slapped him, and he told me to get the fuck out of his house- I happily obliged.”

----------------

”You!” Ayoola screams, following Azizi around the house as he does his best to get away from him, “Where do you think you’re going?! I’m talking to you! Where the fuck were you?! You knew you had a client coming over! You knew and you went out anyway- hey!” His hand lashes out violently, grabbing Azizi by the arm and yanking him back. ”I’m not playing with you Zi!” Ayoola says, spittle flying and his teeth grinding together as he gets up in Azizi’s face, “You’re in big fucking trouble. If you’re going to live under this roof-” ”I don’t want to live under this roof!” Azizi screams back, slapping Ayoola in the face in an attempt to get him to let go, “I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible! You’re a fucking monster!” Ayoola doesn’t hesitate to backhand him, the force of it throwing Azizi to the floor where he sits shocked and rubbing tenderly at his freshly bruised cheek. ”Then get the fuck out!” he shouts, jabbing a finger in Azizi’s face as he looms over him, “Leave! Just like your mother did! I’ve taken care of us for how long and you’re acting out like this because I ask you to do your part?! All you have to do is put out! Easiest fucking job on the planet!” Azizi stares at him, dead behind the eyes as he’s yanked back up onto his feet and shoved hard against the kitchen wall, a hand around his throat. ”You hearin’ me? Answer me-” Azizi screams, shoving his father back so hard that he trips over his own feet and falls backwards. ”Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he wails, shoving past Ayoola and out the front door. Ayoola gives chase, pausing in the open doorway to yell after him. ”Then go! Die on the street for all I care!”

He does not follow.

-------------------

“To make an already long story short,” he says, glancing over at Gustav and then quickly averting his eyes, “I spent a long time, years, on the street just like Gogo. I did what I knew how to do best. Eventually I ran into Chaka.”

At the mere mention of his name his blood runs cold, the events of his sad life replaying all over again. He handles it though, shoving it deep deep down inside himself where it belongs. “He took me in off the streets you know. Well, for the most part anyway,” he admits, “There were plenty of times he’d leave me on a corner. To teach me a lesson, he’d say. I mean, I do have a reckless mouth so is that any surprise to you guys?” He laughs humorlessly, eyes finding Gogo’s. “But I met Gogo because of that,” he adds very fondly, “So hey. Silver-linings.” Sighing deeply, Azizi downs the rest of his drink in one go.

“I’ll save the stuff with Chaka for another time,” he murmurs, “If I go into that right now we’ll be here all night. Needless to say I didn’t go down the best path after leaving that hellhole, but if I’m being honest I don’t regret it. Dealing with Chaka’s bullshit was a hell of a lot better than dealing with my old man’s.” Despite his best efforts there’s a wet shine to his eyes now, but the tears don’t fall. Not even when the memories are threatening to choke the air out of his lungs. “So, that’s part one of my story,” he says faux cheerfully, “Now you know I come from trash. Do with it what you will.”

End.

[let-zizi-yap]

Nothing just me smiling at my screen

@prettygirl-gabi I love you so much

The bullying paid off

Dinner, Dessert, and Desperation

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Warning: Explicit sexual content (18+), public teasing/sex, edging, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex (fem receiving), language, soft dom!Paige, slight exhibitionism

Summary: Paige always has room for dessert

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

I should’ve known Paige had plans the second we stepped into the private dining room. The moment the waiter closed the doors behind us and Paige saw the curtains, the candlelight, the fact that we were alone—her eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

“This,” she whispered behind me, her arms sliding around my waist as I looked over the menu, “was the best anniversary idea you’ve ever had.”

“I thought the beach picnic was your favorite,” I teased.

“It was,” she said, and then she cupped my tits through my dress. Just like that. No warning. “But this has potential.”

“Paige,” I gasped, glancing at the door, even though no one could see in. “Behave.”

“Not a chance.”

She didn’t stop touching me the entire time. Not once.

During the appetizers, her hand slid up my thigh under the table like it belonged there. The waiter hadn’t even left the room before Paige leaned into my ear, lips brushing my skin.

“Mmm. Finger foods,” she murmured, taking a breadstick.

I didn’t get it—until her fingers slipped under my dress. Bold, quick. Warm fingertips pressing between my thighs.

“You’re soaked already?” she whispered, teeth catching her bottom lip. “From this? From dinner?”

“No,” I whispered, trembling. “From you.”

Her fingers didn’t hesitate. Two slipped between my folds, just enough pressure to make me twitch. And then she was circling my clit, slow and deep, while I struggled to stay still.

She kissed the side of my neck, breath hot. “Come for me, baby. Right here. I know you can.”

I nearly lost it.

My thighs tensed around her wrist. My whole body tried to hold it together while Paige silently fingered me into an orgasm before the appetizers were even cleared.

I came with my hand covering my mouth and Paige’s smile pressed into my skin.

And right as I slumped into the booth, dazed and warm, the server returned.

“Entrées,” he said politely.

Paige sat up straight like nothing happened. I could barely breathe.

As the plates were placed in front of us, she leaned over and murmured, “You wore the red ones,”

I blink. “The red ones what?”

She grins, biting her bottom lip. “Thong. Lace. You wore the red ones. The ones with that little bow in the back.”

I nearly choke on my wine. “What, baby how did-”

She tilts her head as she interrupts me. “I saw you picking them from the drawer when I was in the hallway. I know what they look like under that dress. Now give them too me.”

I blinked. “You’re serious?”

She gave me a sharp, sweet grin. “Baby, when have I not been?”

I didn’t argue. I reached beneath the table, slid them down as discreetly as I could, and handed them off. She took them without shame, folding them into her pocket.

Then she went back to eating. Like she didn’t just ruin me and rob me in under ten minutes.

The whole damn dinner, she whispered the filthiest things in my ear.

“I can still smell you on my fingers.”

“I wish the waiter knew how sweet you taste.”

“Your thighs still twitching, baby?”

“I’m not gonna let you cum again. Not yet.”

I was aching. I could barely pick up my fork. Paige cut my steak for me and fed me bites like I wasn’t falling apart next to her.

By dessert, I could barely form words. I was wrecked. The sugar hit my system just enough to keep me standing. I was packing up my bag, ready to leave, when she stood behind me and pressed her front to my back.

“There’s still time,” she said.

“For what?”

“More dessert.”

I turned—half confused, half ready to melt into her—and before I could react, Paige dropped to her knees right there in front of me.

In our private booth. With the curtains drawn and the lights dim.

“Paige—”

“Shh,” she said, sliding her hands up my thighs, pushing my dress up high. “I wanna taste you again before we go.”

I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve at least hesitated. But when her mouth latched onto me, tongue moving like she’d been dreaming about this all week, my knees nearly gave out.

She ate me out slowly this time—methodical, like she was memorizing every sound I made. I tangled my hands in her hair and whispered her name, thighs tightening around her head.

“I’m close,” I moaned. “Please—”

But she pulled back. Just like that.

My orgasm hovered, denied, unsatisfied, starving.

I looked down at her in disbelief. Her chin glistened. Her eyes sparkled.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I know.”

In the car on the way home, she didn’t even look at me.

I reached across the center console. Nothing. I slid my hand onto her thigh. She swatted it away playfully.

“Seriously?” I asked. “You’re not gonna touch me now?”

She smirked, eyes fixed on the road. “I can’t attend to you right now. I’m busy driving.”

I groaned, shifting in my seat. “You’re evil.”

She leaned back, looking like the smugest little shit. “No, baby. I’m patient. You’re the needy one.”

My panties were still in her pocket. My thighs were sticky. I’d been edged to hell and back and Paige was acting like we just left a movie and had popcorn.

“I hate you,” I mumbled.

She reached over and took my hand, kissed my knuckles like the perfect wife.

“You’ll thank me later,” she said.

And I knew she was right.

The front door clicked shut, and I barely gave her a second.

I turned on my heel, grabbed her by the collar of her open leather jacket, and shoved her back against it. Her body hit the wood with a thud, but she only smirked, like she’d wanted me to break first.

“Oh,” Paige murmured, voice low, amused. “Look who’s finally snapped.”

I glared at her, breathing heavy. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

“And you’ve let me.” She grinned, cocky, loving it. “You gonna do something about it?”

I crushed my mouth to hers, kissing her hard, messy, desperate. Her lips moved with mine like she’d been waiting for this since we left the restaurant. I yanked her jacket down her arms, not bothering to be gentle.

Paige moaned into my mouth, like she’d missed touching me already. Her hands settled on my hips, fingers gripping tight.

“I should make you beg again,” she whispered. “Drag this out longer.”

“You drag it out one more second,” I growled, “and I’m gonna sit on your face until I get off this time.”

Her breath caught. Her whole body shivered.

“I fucking knew you liked it,” I added, voice low in her ear. “Getting on your knees in that booth? You didn’t do it for me. You loved it. Didn’t you?”

She didn’t answer with words. She just dropped.

Right there, at my feet, Paige sank to her knees again. Like it was instinct. Like she couldn’t help it.

She looked up at me with flushed cheeks and wild eyes, hands sliding up my thighs. Her voice was rough when she spoke.

“I didn’t finish earlier because I wanted to do this right,” she said. “Here. Alone. Where I can actually fall apart over you.”

My heart stuttered. My breath hitched.

“Sit,” she said, patting the back of her own shoulder. “Or ride me. I don’t care. I just need—”

She cut herself off, already shoving my dress up. Already licking her lips.

“I need to taste you again.”

I straddled her shoulder, my back to the door, one hand gripping her blonde hair, the other braced against the wood.

And then her mouth was on me.

It wasn’t soft.

Paige devoured me.

Her tongue moved frantically, searching, swirling, pushing inside me with a desperation that made my knees tremble. She moaned against me like this was what she wanted all night. Not the fancy dinner. Not the teasing. Just this: me, dripping, grinding against her face while she licked me like it was air and she hadn’t breathed in hours.

Her hands clutched my thighs, pulling me closer, anchoring me to her mouth.

She wasn’t even trying to be perfect. She was messy. Sloppy. Passionate. Inexperienced but eager—hungry to learn everything that made me twitch and moan and come undone. I could feel it in how her tongue slowed when I gasped, how she latched onto my clit when I whimpered, how she moaned when I tugged her hair and ground down hard.

“Fuck—Paige,” I cried, head thrown back, body shaking. “Don’t stop. Don’t—”

Her tongue fucked into me again and again, deep, insistent, like she needed me to lose it.

She whined into my core when I clenched around her mouth.

I was close. So fucking close.

“You love this,” I breathed, looking down at her. “You love eating me out, don’t you?”

She groaned in response, nodding against me, mouth still buried in my cunt, her eyes hazy, ruined with desire.

“I’m gonna come,” I warned, and her mouth latched onto my clit like she wanted me to.

No teasing this time.

She let me.

She wanted me to fall apart.

And I did—with a scream, with my thighs clenching around her head, with my whole body pulsing against her mouth like I was made to be tasted.

She held me through it. Drank down every twitch, every moan, like I was a drug she’d never get enough of.

Once she was up off the floor and I was steady she kiss me.

Tasting myself on her tongue.

She pulled away while grabbing my hand. She gently tugs my hand, leading me to the bedroom. Her jaw’s clenched like she’s not done with me just yet.

“Let me take care of you some more, hmm..” she whispers.

Her voice cracks a little, vulnerable under all the hunger. “Please.”

I nod. I don’t even think. I just nod and lie back.

She kisses my knee like it’s sacred, like she has to earn her way in.

The bed dips as she settles between my thighs, her hands skimming slowly from my ankles to my hips, not rushing.

Not yet. Not this time.

Her eyes are already glassy. Her voice is low, almost reverent.

“How are you still so wet.”

“Because of you,” I whisper. “All cause of you, P.”

She presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh—soft, then again, open-mouthed this time, a little wetter.

Her tongue peeks out, dragging a slow line.

I feel her inhale deeply against me, like she’s trying to ground herself.

“Fuck,” she breathes.

I reach for her hand and lace our fingers together.

She squeezes tight, already trembling a little.

I know that grip by now—tight, grounding, almost panicked.

Like she needs something to hold so she doesn’t fall too deep.

And then she starts.

Paige eats me out like she’s still starving. Like she didn’t just make me cum less than five minutes ago.

She’s not smooth or practiced; she’s messy.

Tongue flicking in sharp uncertain patterns at first, like she’s relearning me all over again.

But she pays attention.

Every gasp, every twitch of my hips, every sharp inhale—she locks it in and adjusts.

“Oh my God,” I moan, legs spreading wider for her.

Her mouth is soaked within seconds, chin slick, tongue frantic in its exploration.

She moans softly against me, and the vibration shoots straight through me like lightning.

“F-fuck, Paige…”

She pauses, glancing up, pupils blown wide. “Too much?”

“No,” I breathe. “Not even close.”

She groans into me, hips grinding down into the bed, chasing pressure she’s not getting because she’s too focused on me.

I feel the slickness of her tongue as it dips inside me, slow at first. But when I moan her name and tug her hand harder, something in her snaps.

She moans against me—low, deep—and suddenly once again she’s devouring me.

Her chin is soaked, nose bumping my clit, tongue fucking into me like she wants to live inside me.

Her hips rock harder into the mattress beneath her, slow and desperate.

She thinks I don’t notice, but I do.

I feel it in the way her breath gets heavier.

In the way her free hand clenches the sheet.

She’s chasing her own high from mine.

She loves this.

I whimper and arch into her mouth, and she moans again—like I taste better when I’m falling apart.

“You’re doing so good,” I gasp, my voice shaky. “So fucking good, Paige…”

She whimpers at the praise, her tongue flicking faster.

Then slower.

Then deeper.

She’s studying me—like I’m a test she needs to ace, ace something she’s done a thousand times now, like every little gasp I make is another clue she’s filing away.

She shifts slightly, changes her angle. And when she hits just right—when her tongue curls deep and her lips drag perfectly over my clit—I cry out, legs locking around her shoulders.

“Fuck, right there, don’t stop—”

She doesn’t. If anything, she doubles down.

I tug on her hand, trying to pull her up so I can kiss her, but she shakes her head, lips flushed and wet. “Not yet,” she whispers. “I’m not done.”

She drags her tongue up and flattens it over my clit.

I jolt.

My hips rise off the mattress and she follows, mouth locked to me like gravity doesn’t apply when she’s this far gone.

Her other hand—once gripping mine—sneaks up to rest on my stomach, grounding me.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” she says, voice trembling. “I could do this forever.”

I’m spiraling.

Moaning.

Writhing under her.

She’s still grinding into the bed like she can’t help it, trying not to be obvious, but it’s so fucking obvious. And it makes it hotter.

Because this is hers too.

Not just for me.

Never just for me.

And then she hums.

That’s what does it.

I break.

God, the vibration—her tongue on my clit, lips soft but persistent, the pressure building—and I snap.

My orgasm crashes through me, electric and raw, legs locking around her shoulders, hand squeezing hers so tight I might bruise her. I cry out, gasping her name like it’s the only word I know.

“P—Paige, oh my God—”

She doesn’t stop right away. She licks through it, chasing every last tremble of pleasure from me, groaning low like she’s the one cumming.

When she finally pulls back, she rests her cheek on my thigh, breath shaky, lips shiny and swollen. “You okay?” she asks, voice hoarse.

I nod, dazed. “Are you okay?”

She hides her face a little, bashful. “I came.”

I blink. “Wait… what?”

She looks up, cheeks flushed, eyes guilty and radiant all at once. “I… I didn’t mean to. I was grinding and—yeah. That happened.”

“I love you,” she whispers.

I kiss her again, slow and deep, then pull the blanket up around us.

“God, you’re dangerous,” I whisper.

She grins into the kiss. “Only for you.”

I don’t even realize I’ve started to doze off until I feel her shift.

My face is still buried under her chin, body curled against hers like I’m trying to fuse into her skin. I’m beyond sore. My legs ache in that sweet, stretched-out way. My thighs feel like lead. But I’m warm. I’m safe.

“Babe,” she murmurs against the top of my head. “Come on, we should get in the bath.”

I whine like a child. “No. No bath. Don’t make me move. I’m perfectly fine like this.”

She laughs softly—just a breath of air into my hair. “You’re literally sticking to me, love.”

“Good,” I mumble, curling tighter into her. “Just let me be in your arms. No moving. Ever again.”

“Baby…”

I shake my head, not even lifting it. “If you love me, you’ll let me die here.”

Her chest vibrates with another quiet laugh. “Okay. Fine. Guess I’m carrying you, then.”

“Wait—no—Paige—”

But before I can protest properly, she’s already sitting up, arms sliding under my back and knees. I yelp a little, arms instinctively wrapping around her neck.

She stands with me like I weigh nothing, and the second I bury my face into her collarbone again, I go quiet. Content. She smells like me. Like sex and sweat and that vanilla skin oil I always steal from her nightstand.

She sets me gently on the bathroom counter and kisses my forehead like it’s instinct. Like her mouth just knows where I need to be kissed.

“You’re ridiculous,” I murmur.

“Mmhm,” she says, reaching over to run the bathwater. “And yet, you let me wreck you.”

“You did not have to go that hard.”

She smirks but keeps her focus on the water. “Couldn’t help it.”

I watch her in the mirror. The flush still on her cheeks. The way her skin glows under the soft bathroom light. Her eyes flick toward me like she feels the stare.

Then I ask, soft and curious, “Did you really… cum?”

She freezes just a little. Not embarrassed—just caught.

She nods, slowly, face pink. “Yeah. God, I wasn’t planning on it. It just… kinda happened.”

I blink. “You weren’t even—like—you didn’t touch yourself?”

“No,” she says quietly, looking almost stunned at herself. “I was grinding into the mattress and just—watching you fall apart like that—I don’t know. It was overwhelming. I came so hard I almost bit my tongue.”

I giggle.

She glares at me playfully. “You’re not allowed to laugh at me. That was a spiritual experience.”

“Spiritual?” I echo, beaming.

“Divine,” she says, deadpan. “I think I saw God.”

She reaches over and tests the water. “Okay. Bath’s ready.”

“Can we just lay here instead?” I pout again, already slumping like my body’s made of syrup.

“Nope. You’re sticky and sore and I know you’ll sleep better if we soak first.”

She helps me down gently, guides me into the tub before sliding in behind me. I settle between her legs again, back to her chest, her arms looping around me like nothing ever changed from the bed.

The warm water draws out a sigh from my lips. Her chin rests on my shoulder. Fingers trace lazy circles on my stomach under the bubbles.

I hum. “This is nice.”

“Told you,” she whispers. “Let me take care of you.”

We sit in silence for a while. Every now and then she kisses the back of my shoulder. I let my head lean against hers. The quiet is thick and comfortable. The kind of silence you only get with someone who knows your body, your soul, your whole heart.

Eventually she pulls away and says, “I’m gonna get out first and change the sheets. They’re, uh… yeah.”

“Gross?”

“Let’s say ‘well loved-on,’” she snorts.

She gets out and wraps herself in a towel, pausing to kiss my forehead again before slipping out. I stay in the water a little longer, fingers wrinkling. My body still throbs in that blissed-out way.

By the time she’s back—fresh sheets on the bed, candles lit again—I let her help me out and dry me off with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

She pulls a soft tee over my head—hers, obviously—and kisses my jaw once I’m tucked in.

We crawl under the clean covers, the smell of lavender clinging to our skin, and turn on our favorite show—volume low, more of a lullaby than actual watching.

She spoons me from behind, arms around my waist. Her breath is warm against the back of my neck.

“Happy anniversary,” I whisper.

She nuzzles deeper into me. “Best one yet.”

“You say that every year.”

“And I’ll keep saying it,” she murmurs. “Because every year with you gets better.”

I smile, eyelids growing heavy.

“Love you, Paige.”

Her arms squeeze tighter. “Love you more.”

And just like that, in the glow of TV static and candlelight, I fall asleep with her wrapped around me—safe, still, and completely hers.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[mlnmoongle]

Soft Spot

Genre:  Domestic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Cliche, True Love, Dorks in Love, Happy Ending, Romance, Short & Sweet

Pairings: TaoHun;

Rating: General Audiences;

Length: oneshot;

Note: completed;

Warnings: relationship issues;

Summary: It's six months into their relationship and Tao wanted to do something sweet for his lover

This low-key goes along with Reluctantly and Forward. In connection to those fics this would be in the middle. I really want to kick myself for making this universe but not putting it all together? Oh well.

Anyway, I wrote this while avoiding school work. So please enjoy!

Sehun gently closed the front door and kicked off his shoes. He was exhausted from a long day at work and was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with his boyfriend. Sehun walked into the kitchen to set his lunchbox on the counter and noticed that the sink was disgusting. Dishes from that past few days were still piled up, and the sight was awful. "Zizi…” Sehun groaned, “I thought you were going to do the dishes?" Sehun knew if they would just wash the dishes when they both were finished eating then this gross mess could be avoided, and in Sehun's defense, he used to do that until he met down. Tao was a bad influence on him, mostly because he got lazier around him. Sehun sighed when Sehun didn't get a response so he called out again as he walked into the living room. "Taozi, did you hear -" Sehun stopped mid-sentence and step. He was expecting to see Tao napping on the couch or even the floor where he usually would fall asleep after playing with Candy, but he wasn't.

A surge of adrenaline struck Sehun's chest as panic set in. He quickly thought back to this morning and their conversation. Maybe he might have missed Tao saying he was going to be out or something, but generally, on his days off, Tao didn't like to do anything or go anywhere. "Tao...?" He called again, softer this time as he stepped further into the living room. Sehun glanced around for a note or sign or anything that might give him a hint as to where Tao was or went, but there was nothing. The living room looked like it did when he left this morning and not been touched since.

Taking a deep breath, Sehun calmed his nerves and pulled out his phone, hastily unlocking the screen and tapping the little panda emoji that replaced Tao's name in his phone. He brought the phone up to his ear and listened to the ring. The several seconds he was waiting for the other end of the line to pick up felt like several hours and he was growing more worried. Sehun was about to hang up and call one of their mutual friends, however, Sehun heard the faint sound of buzzing going off in the other room. Their bedroom. Sehun hung up and tossed his phone on the couch as he hurried toward the bedroom. Had Tao been napping? Honestly, it made sense, though, it was odd that the door was closed because Tao didn’t like to sleep with the door closed. Then Sehun then heard muffled barking coming from the other side of the door. It was Candy, their new little pup. Sehun carefully opened the door and Candy immediately rushed out, yapping and yipping happily as she jumped up on Sehun's leg. "Hey, girl...Stay down..." Sehun humored her, and he took a glance around the bedroom. What he saw made his eyes widen and jaw drop.

Around the room, there were several lit tea candles, that dimly lit the room, and on the bed, there were red rose petals scattered on top of...A new comforter? That wasn't there this morning, nor was it even their comforter but it looked expensive. The faint lighting making the fabric shine beautifully, and if Sehun had to guess it was a champagne color. In contrast to the vibrant rose petals and dim lighting, it looked very warm and welcoming. Everything else around the room seemed normal. Sehun’s eyes landed on the bathroom door and noticed that it was left cracked open, just small enough for Candy to fit through and it was then that Sehun heard tapping sounds and humming coming from that direction.

Slowly, Sehun walked over to the door. He first put his ear up to the door but then Candy was yapping again and pushed her way through the small opening and making the door widen a bit more. "Candy, hush," Sehun finally heard Tao's voice and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that came out. Despite Tao's command, Candy was still barking excitedly and Sehun heard Tao again, "Candy if you don't quiet down I'll put you out of the room. I already had to redo the bed because of you. So be a good girl." Tao sounded irritated but there was no bark to his bite. Tao’s light chiding made Sehun smile, he thought it was cute how Tao spoke to Candy as if she was a person instead of an animal. Candy whined and left the bathroom to stand at Sehun’s feet.

But now that Sehun knew Tao was safe, and there was no danger, he wasn't sure what he should do. He wasn't even sure what Tao was doing, or his intentions, and he didn't want to spoil a possible surprise or something? Though, it was a bit late for that. So Sehun decided that he would just...come into the bathroom.

Pushing the door open gently he heard Tao before he saw him. “Candy, you better not be chewing on a rose pet -” Then Tao gasped at Sehun's presence. Sehun pushed the bathroom door open completely and took in the sight that was Huang Zitao, crouched by the tub, stopped mid-motion of lighting a bunch of little candles. Tao just stared up at Sehun with his mouth gaped open and eyes wide as if he's just been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

Sehun glanced around the bathroom, taking in the sight. The lights were still on, but much like their bedroom, the bathroom was decorated with rose petals that were scattered on the floor and even some floating on top of the water in the tub. The tub was lined with multiple small tea candles around the rim and filled to the brim with water and bubbles. However, it appeared that Tao wasn't quite finished putting together whatever...this was, if the sealed bag of rose petals was anything to go by. Crossing his arms, Sehun leaned against the door frame and smirked at Tao. He really wanted to roll his eyes because this was so Tao. Only Tao would do something so cliche and cheesy with such detail and dedication.

"What are you doing?" Sehun drawled, but his voice was still light.

Tao quickly stood up and placed the lighter that he was holding to light the candles on the bathroom counter. He had a sheepish smile on his face, and it was really, really cute. "Uh. Trying to surprise you?" Tao chuckled then shrugged. "But I guess I didn't work quick enough..." Shaking his head, Sehun laughed lightly. This really was cute and amusing. Sehun reached out his hand for Tao to grab and Tao easily took his hand into his own, stepping in towards Sehun. Tao let go of Sehun’s hand once Sehun was in reach and wrapped his arms around Sehun's waist while Sehun wrapped his own around Tao's shoulders. Both of them were smiling, enjoying the soft, quiet moment between them, but then Sehun asked, "Not that I don't find this really endearing, but what are you doing this for...?"

Sehun wasn’t sure what to expect but he definitely didn’t expect Tao’s smile to fade to form a pout. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one that knows what this date is…” he mumbled.

Sehun’s brows furrowed in confusion as he started mentally going through any significant dates in his head to compare them to today’s date. It wasn’t Tao’s birthday, thank god, and it wasn’t his either. Was it Candy’s birthday? No…? That would be a little weird. Sehun was sure that it wasn’t their year anniversary already, nor was it any kind of holiday. Sehun was completely baffled because to him, it was just a normal Thursday night.

“Uhm…” Sehun gave as an answer, accompanied by a confused look.

“Hunnie…” Tao whined, sticking out his bottom lip.

Sehun reached up and flicked Tao’s bottom lip, making him retract his pout. “Stop that. Just tell me what I’m obviously forgetting,” Sehun’s tone was playful, but really, he was already accepting that he fucked up for whatever it was that he forgot.

Tao huffed, tugging Sehun closer and Sehun pliantly let him. “Hunnie, today is our six month anniversary!” Tao exclaimed, his brows now furrowed in feigned anger.

Sehun blinked a few times to process what Tao just said. “Six month anniversary…?” He repeated and Tao nodded. “That’s what this is all about?” Sehun chuckled and Tao’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Yes! This is what ‘t his is all about ’” Tao mocked, scrunching his face, affronted.

“Zizi, this is so sweet but when I first got home I thought something had happened to you. Something bad, or that you left, or something…” Sehun’s voice trailed off. Sehun could now feel Tao’s worried gaze on him. Licking his chapped lips, he gave a small shrug. “Not that you would leave, but. I don’t know…” Sehun glanced back at Tao who, not surprisingly, was smiling. He was smiling that gorgeous, wide smile of his with his pearly white teeth that resided in the mouth that Sehun loved; loved having pressed to his lips and other various parts of his body. “Why are you - “ But before Sehun could finish, Tao was leaning in and pressing his gently lips to Sehun’s for a lingering kiss. The kiss was meaningful, reassuring and ridding Sehun of any troublesome or doubtful thoughts that he had. When Tao pulled away, Sehun was breathless. The kiss wasn’t passionate or sensual or hot, but slow and loving.

“Hunnie,” Tao spoke softly, only a few inches from Sehun’s lips but he was looking Sehun in the yes. Sehun felt vulnerable and weak-kneed under Tao’s intense but beautiful gaze. “I just wanted to surprise you and let you relax. I didn’t mean to scare you. You know you can’t get rid of me.” he teased lightly.

Sehun blushed, feeling embarrassed by Tao’s bluntness, but he nodded slowly. “I know. Uhm, I’m sorry I ruined the surprise?” he was apologizing with a small smile because Tao was smiling, and Tao’s smile was contagious.

“Yeah, well, you better be! I’ve been at this for hours.” Tao whined, closing his eyes and leaning his head back in a dramatic exasperated motion. Sehun sighed and pressed his forehead to Tao’s shoulder. Tao stood upright again, leaning forward to smile against Sehun’s soft, now Auburn, locks. He hugged Sehun closer and tighter, placing a lingering kiss on the top of the other’s head. “Come on, why don’t you get undressed and enjoy your bath before the water gets too cold?”

Sehun nodded against his shoulder and stayed there. “You’re going to join me, right?” he mumbled.

“There’s not much room - “

It was Sehun’s turn to pout now, and he did his best. He turned his head so he could just see Tao from the corner of his eyes. With his cheeks puffed, bottom lip out and brows scrunched, Tao was fucked. Sehun wasn’t much of the pouting type, but it was worth seeing the blush that spread across Tao’s handsome face followed by his flagrant grin as he quickly changed his mind. “Well, yeah, of course, I’m going to join you. We’ll just have figure out how to make room.”

Sehun hummed, smirking as he pulled at the bottom of Tao’s shirt. “Hm, I think I know a way.” Sehun leaned in a collected Tao’s lips to his own, slotting them together as they moved to shut the door.

[let-zizi-yap]

Not central cee trying to steal Paige's swag 🙄

@prettygirl-gabi

[let-zizi-yap]

I'm bringing this back in honour of Paige getting pregnancy allegations

@prettygirl-gabi Azzi the papi

[let-zizi-yap]

I want reader 😭😭😝

You Asked.

Azzi Fudd x Player!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Your smooth, and unapologetically known for giving unforgettable head—but never catching feelings. Azzi Fudd? She’s the latest obsession.

Genre: Angst, smut (later), obsession in denial

Warnings: Smut 18+, emotional tension, ghosting

Vibe: You shouldn’t have cared. But you do.

Word Count~ 2.5k

I didn’t earn my name in class. I earned it on my knees. Yeah, I said it.

Not because I’m desperate—not even close. But because I like it. I enjoy it. There’s peace in it. Pressure in it. Something about making a girl forget how to breathe just does it for me.

I don’t fuck for their pleasure—I eat for mine. College is hard. Papers due. Tests piling. Professors assigning trauma as homework. So when life’s a mess?

I find relief between thighs. Hot, aching, clenching relief. And yeah, a few girls talk. Like I’m some campus side quest. A little mystery you whisper about in group chats. “She made me black out,” one said. “She was humming,” another added.

I don’t deny it. I don’t confirm it either. I don’t need to. They know my name.

Y/N.

No last name necessary. Tall, tatted, always in an oversized tee and sweats that hang low off my waist. I’m in class when I need to be.

But most of the time? I’m high, posted up in somebody’s dorm, or laid out under a tree like I own the campus.

I don’t chase. I don’t beg. And I never double back.

…Until Azzi. But we’ll get there.

See, the real story starts with this class. “Modern Cultural Rhetoric.” Just a gen-ed filler I picked ‘cause the professor doesn’t take attendance and the papers are optional if your discussion grades are high. I walked in late the first day—hood on, blunt on my breath, iced coffee in my hand. Sat in the back and didn’t say shit. Still left with the highest pre-quiz score in the room.

That’s the thing about me. I talk slick and fuck reckless, but I’m smart. Smart and dangerous. I don’t try. I just do. And people notice.

Even her. Yeah—her. Miss Sunshine. Star Player. Sweetest smile on campus. Azzi Fudd.

We’d crossed paths before. Hallways. Cafeteria. Parties where I was posted up with someone else’s girl while she laughed in corners with her team. But we never spoke.

Until that day.

When Professor H started assigning project partners “based on GPA proximity,” I already knew I was screwed. There’s maybe five people in the class smart enough to challenge me. She was one of ‘em. So when he said, “Fudd and Y/N”? I already felt my jaw clench.

She turned around. Smile like sugar. Hair pulled back. Bright eyes.

“Guess we’re stuck together,” she said, chipper. I didn’t smile back. Just licked my lip, leaned forward and said,

“Guess you’re lucky.”

She laughed. Thought I was joking. I wasn’t. Not even a little.

——————————————————————————————-

Azzi’s POV

The Warning Was Loud. I Just Didn’t Listen.

I didn’t think much of it when Professor H read out the partner list. Group projects were annoying, sure, but I usually got through them just fine. I was already packing up my bag when he said it:

“Fudd and Y/L/N.”

I froze. Blinked once. Then looked up slowly—like maybe I misheard. But no. Everyone else heard it too. There was a pause in the room. One of those weird silences where you feel people staring. Whispering. Like the air just got warmer.

Y/N didn’t even react. She just stretched her legs out, yawned like this was boring, and slouched deeper into her seat like nothing touched her.

I’d heard of her. Of course I had. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know about Y/N.

She didn’t play any sports, didn’t care for clout, didn’t run with a crowd—but she was known. Tall, masc, dressed like every piece in her closet was stolen from a high-end shoot. Pretty in that rude, effortless way.

She didn’t flirt so much as…claim. And the stories? They were legendary. Whispers in dorms, giggles in locker rooms, half-smirks in the library.

Some people said she ruined them. Others said she saved them. Everyone agreed on one thing—once she touched you, you weren’t the same.

Still. I figured the rumors were exaggerated. People talk. I didn’t think she’d actually be anything special.

Then after class, she leaned over, smelled like good weed and cinnamon gum, and said in that low, rich voice, “Guess you’re stuck with me, princess. Lucky you.”

I laughed it off. Played it cool. Went about my day. But it lingered. So later, after practice, I brought it up casually in the locker room.

“I got paired with Y/N for my rhetoric project,” I said while tying my shoe.

KK’s head snapped up. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

I glanced at her. “Yeah. Why?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Caroline groaned, already rolling her eyes.

“Say it like what?”

“Like it’s nothing,” Inês muttered. “That’s something.”

“Y’all are being dramatic,” I laughed.

“She’s dangerous,” Ice said. “In that slow, ‘I won’t even ask your name’ kinda way.”

“She’s smart,” KK added. “Real smart. Real charming. Gets what she wants. And what she wants is usually—”

“Girls,” Ayanna said bluntly.

I raised an eyebrow. “So she’s a flirt. Who cares?”

“No, Azzi,” KK said seriously. “She’s the munch.”

I paused. “I’m sorry—the what?”

“She eats pussy like it’s therapy,” Ice deadpanned. “And not for the girl. For her.”

“She doesn’t even make it romantic,” Inês added. “No cuddling. No feelings. Just that mouth. Then poof.”

“She hooked up with two girls from the rugby team and left both of them giggling and heartbroken,” Ayanna said, shaking her head. “At the same time.”

“Okay but we’re just doing a project,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Everyone turned.

KK tilted her head. “You curious?”

“No!”

“You are.” Caroline smirked. “You smiled just now.”

“I didn’t!”

“God,” Ice muttered. “She’s already done.”

I stood up fast, grabbing my bag like it would protect me from the accusations. “Y’all are dramatic.”

“Sure,” KK said. “But don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

And the worst part? They were right. Because two hours later, when my phone lit up with her name—“You free?”—I smiled before I could stop myself. And I think… I knew right then.

——————————————————————————————-

I don’t think she knew what she was walking into. Not really.

She was soft, too soft for her own good. Sitting on that pink blanket like she ain’t just open the door for her own downfall. Cute little shorts. Oversized UConn hoodie swallowing her up like a blanket of innocence. I almost laughed. The kind of girl who doesn’t even know how loud she breathes when she’s nervous.

“Let’s just get this done,” she’d said.

I nodded. “Sure, princess.”

She looked up—eyes narrowing just a little, like she clocked the name. Good. I like when they pay attention.

We worked. Kind of. She tried. Pulled up her little doc and started typing. But I was watching her thighs. The way she sat cross-legged on the bed, little shorts riding up every time she adjusted. I wasn’t trying to be respectful. I wasn’t trying at all.

She caught me staring once. Didn’t say anything. And that was the moment I knew. So I asked, casual as fuck, “You ever been eaten right?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

I smiled. “You heard me.”

She didn’t answer. Just stared. So I stood, slow, real slow, and stepped between her knees.

“You wanna know why they talk about me like that?” I asked, voice low, watching her chest rise and fall. She didn’t move.

Didn’t push me away. Didn’t say no. So I dropped to my knees.

No teasing. No warm-up. Just slipped my hands under those soft ass shorts and pulled ‘em down like I owned her. Her thighs tensed, legs still clumsy, but I pushed them open with a quiet little grunt.

And then I dove in.

Tongue flat and slow against her clit, lips tight around it like I was trying to drink from her. She gasped—sharp, unsteady—her hands flying to my shoulders but not pushing, just holding.

“F-Fuck—”

Yeah. That’s more like it.

I didn’t go fast. I didn’t need to. I dragged my tongue in lazy little figure eights, then flattened it again, licking her like a prayer. Like she was something holy. She twitched under me, hips jerking every time I sucked her clit into my mouth.

I hummed into her. Felt her shake. She was soaking. Already. Dripping down my neck. And I hadn’t even really started.

I slid two fingers inside—slow, deep—and curled them up until her back arched off the damn bed. She moaned my name, breathy and broken, and I felt her clench around me like she’d never been touched like this before.

That’s when I smiled against her. Because I had her.

I angled my wrist, found that little spot inside her that made her cry out, and just stayed there. Tongue rolling on her clit, fingers pressing just right, slow and nasty and perfect. Her hands were in my hair now. Not pulling. Just holding on for dear life.

She came so pretty I almost forgot I didn’t care. Almost.

When she went limp, I pulled back, wiped my mouth, and sat up like nothing happened.

She stared at me—face flushed, lips parted, chest rising in short bursts.

And I just said, “You good?”

She nodded slow, still dazed.

I stood, grabbed my phone, and tossed a nod toward the doc. “Send me your half when it’s done.”

And I walked out. Didn’t even kiss her. Because I don’t eat to please. I eat because I like it. And Azzi Fudd? She’s my new favorite flavor.

——————————————————————————————-

It was three days later when she found me. Not texted. Not called. Found me.

Back bleachers. After class. I was laid out, hoodie up, headphones in, face to the sky like I didn’t have a care in the damn world. I felt her before I saw her. That nervous energy she carries—balled up and polite. She was pacing, hesitating.

“Hey,” she finally said.

I popped one headphone out. Didn’t even lift my head. “Fudd.”

Her jaw twitched. “Can we talk?”

I stretched, slow and smug. “We already did. You just couldn’t speak at the time.” She blinked. I watched her try not to react. That was half the fun.

She sat beside me, knees bouncing. “I just…” She sighed. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“Which part?” I asked, turning to look at her. “The part where you came in under five minutes? Or the part where you ain’t even say thank you?”

That got her. Her lips parted. She looked stunned. I raised my brows, amused. “You always ghost people who make you see God?”

“I didn’t ghost you,” she said, too fast.

I tilted my head. “So you were what, busy recovering?”

Her face flushed, and I smiled. She was trying so hard to be serious. So hard to be in control.

“Look,” she started. “It was… good. I’m not gonna lie.”

“Good?” I repeated. “That ain’t the word you used when your legs were shaking.”

“Okay—it was great,” she snapped, looking away. “The best I’ve ever had. Happy?”

I grinned. “Ecstatic.”

She rolled her eyes. I sat up, elbows on my knees, turning to face her more directly. “So what now? You here to ask for seconds?” She hesitated. Too long.

“That a yes?” I pressed.

“No,” she said—too soft to sound real. “I just… I don’t do stuff like that. It’s not me.”

I leaned in, voice low. “It was you. That was all you. Loud, needy, cumming on my tongue—don’t rewrite it.”

Azzi’s breath caught. I saw the way she clenched her hands in her lap. She was remembering. Feeling it again. That’s how I knew I won.

“I’m not asking for anything,” I said, pulling back, stretching again like none of this meant anything. “We can call it even.”

“Even?”

“Yeah. You got the quickest, hardest nut of your life. And I got a new flavor to think about when I’m bored.” She stared. Stunned.

I popped the other headphone back in and said around a lazy grin, “Good talk, pretty.”

And just like that? I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let her sit there stewing in it. Because I don’t chase. And she’ll never forget how I made her feel.

——————————————————————————————-

Azzi’s dorm. Noon.

She opens the door like she wasn’t just texting me two minutes ago saying “you don’t have to come.” I step inside anyway.

She’s in sweats. No makeup. Hair pinned back like she’s trying not to look soft but can’t help it. Her eyes flick to my mouth immediately.

“Lunch in an hour,” she mumbles. I nod. “Then I’ll be quick.”

I’m lying.

I close the door behind me, set my phone down, and press her gently into the mattress. She tries to sit up, say something, but I shake my head.

“Shh,” I murmur. “I’m not here to talk.”

She gasps the moment I lift her hoodie, soft hands twitching like she doesn’t know whether to pull away or pull me closer. I hook my fingers in her waistband and slide her sweats down slow—so slow she starts to shake before I even touch her.

I drop to my knees and press my face between her thighs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And then I take. My. Time.

I don’t rush it. I don’t showboat. I eat her like I’ve been starving for days and this is the only meal I’ll ever want again.

Slow licks. Deep pressure. Lips wrapping around her clit, drawing every twitch and sigh out of her until her fingers are tangled in the sheets, breath catching with every pass of my tongue.

When she whimpers and tries to close her legs, I grip her thighs and pull them back open, firm and calm. No.

She tries to say something—“I have to meet them soon”—but I lick her slow and deep until she forgets the sentence.

Until her mouth hangs open, body shaking like it can’t take more but refuses to stop me. I keep going. An hour. Easy.

She cums four. Maybe five. I don’t stop long enough to count. I just kiss the inside of her thigh when I’m done, give her a soft peck on the lips, and wipe my mouth with her hoodie sleeve like I’m doing her a favor.

I leave before she can say a word.

⸻

Thirty minutes later. Team lunch.

Azzi walks in late. Hair slightly messy. Hoodie sleeves pulled low like she’s hiding something. She doesn’t speak. Just sits down slow like her knees ain’t stable.

Jana eyes her. “Damn. You okay?”

Azzi blinks. “Yeah. Why?”

“You look like you had a time.” Everyone ooohs. Azzi’s mouth falls open.

Ayanna sips her drink. “Who had you missing meetings and walking funny?”

Azzi clears her throat. “Nobody.”

“Liar,” Paige says without even looking up. “That’s munch damage.”

KK just whistles. “Y/n did it again.”

Azzi’s quiet. Doesn’t deny it. She’s still feeling it in her spine. And across campus? You’re laid up in your bed, hoodie over your head, earbuds in—grinning. You didn’t just eat Azzi Fudd.

You ruined her lunch.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[let-zizi-yap]

Milk stud is crazy 😝🤣🤣😭😭

@prettygirl-gabi

[let-zizi-yap]

Y'all I have a bone to pick with @prettygirl-gabi

1. She hasn't updated her master list which she said she would ages ago

2. She hasn't updated the through the lens fic cause apparently she's still working on it

3. She's been edging me-I've been begging miss ole girl to drop the Natasha cloud fic she has rotting in the drafts and she's not listening

Girl feed us, we are starving 😭😭😭💔💔, just playing with my heart and shi

[let-zizi-yap]

Twitter is crazy y'all

[let-zizi-yap]

Get this poor girl away from that bald headed youth pastor 😔🙄😭😭😭

[let-zizi-yap]

I hate finding people funnier than me

@prettygirl-gabi

[let-zizi-yap]

Not Paige parenting her parents 😭😭😭😭

@prettygirl-gabi

[let-zizi-yap]

I love watching my community grow 😭😭😭 @prettygirl-gabi

[let-zizi-yap]

Kk Arnold, you're a Dallas wing

I still hate Chris 🙄