So this piece is something I started a very long time ago that I recently unearthed and decided to finish. It takes place in a universe completely disconnected from the current Degrassi canon where Maya and Zig never dated and she actually continued dating Miles into college. Basically, I'd started writing it even before 14b happened as I was convinced that Zaya was, in fact, unfinished business. The canon went in a very different direction but before then, I came up with this college-age Zaya AU oneshot. It's probably weird and maybe even a little insulting now that Maya's the one that got cheated on, but I enjoyed what I'd started and didn't want to lose it! It's also basically pure smut undercut by some backstory and a lot of Zig's internal monologue. Just a little something-something. Hope you guys like it, though!
She manages to find the only lengths of my hair long enough to tug at even though her eyes are pressed shut and my head is pressed between her thighs, hands anchored at her hips to keep her from floating off of the mattress. Her back is arched, blonde tresses scattered among the cheap thread count of my grey gingham pillowcases as her fingers knot with my roots, pulling to urge me further into the work I'm already taking so much pride in. She's begged me for the past ten minutes to just ravage her already, don't I want to feel her and all that. But I'm enjoying keeping the focus on her too much to finish it off without finishing her off. I mean, I won't act like sex with Maya Matlin isn't the closest thing I've felt to alive in all 19 years of my life, but it's not about me at the moment, and that's what's so consuming about it; all she has to feel is pleasure, no choice or obligation for anything else, and I'm the one providing her with it. It's enchanting.
"Zig..."
I moan against her when she breathes my name, sending vibrations through her skin and earning a heated sigh of elation. I can't help but smirk as I circle my tongue in small rounds from her entrance to her most sensitive peak, one hand pressing her hip against the disheveled bedding so that the other could drift down the side of her leg. She gasps when my nails graze behind her knee, her leg extending in a reflexive plea for more; more touch, more sensation, more pleasure. More me.
"Tell me what you want, baby," My tongue trails down her seam as I rest her thigh over my shoulder so my fingers could ghost along the soft skin of its inside, making her shudder as she anticipated what I was going to do to her. I already know what she wants, but I like to hear it. Call me cocky.
"I want you, baby..." She bites her lip, whimpering when I barely brush her, pushing her hips forward to beg for what I'm denying.
"Mmmm..." I smirk to myself, placing little kisses just above her bud and letting the backs of my fingers drift along her once again, still refusing to quench her thirst. "Me, huh?"
"Zig, please..." Her voice cracks and I know she's getting desperate, so I let out a small chuckle under my breath.
"Well, since you asked so nicely..."
My fingertips glide up the line of her folds and press small circles at the top, sparking up her nerves. The gasp she gives me has a sort of break to it, like she's officially snapped and needs me to piece her back together. However, I like to watch her unwind; her skin gets hotter, her body starts shivering, and as I follow her body to lend my fingertips to her entrance, the high-pitched whine she emits vitalizes me.
"Please...!" One of her hands releases my hair and drags up into her own, tugging at it in frustration.
Hypnotized as I watch her, I nod, not even hesitating before I cross my first two fingers and nudge them against her entrance. I don't even have to coax her to surrender to me; she just wants it that badly. Her hips roll up into my touch as I start up a pace, cupping her with my hand to give leverage to my fingers as they pump in and out of her. She's so much wetter just within the moments I've moved away from her that there's no friction to stop me from moving them even faster, just because I can. As she revels in the sensation, I revel in the way she tightens around my touch, her body needy and trying to keep me as I slow down every few minutes to really draw out her feeling, just before picking it right back up. She groans like she hates it, but she loves the return of the speed too much to complain.
She moans "so good..." among her slew of swear words, cut with my name and unintelligible noises of bliss. But I decide that it's still not enough, so I return to let my tongue resume its work at the top of her center, coupling it with the movement of my hand to really make her lose her mind. When I know I can feel her nearing her edge ("baby, I'm gonna...I'm so close, i'm gonna...") I curl my two fingers and shift my hand so that I can expertly bend them inside of her, the pads instantly rubbing smooth, soft circles just where I know it'll make her—
"I'm gonna—!" She breaks, her hips jolting forward and her spine arching backwards as her previously writhing figure hits her edge, washed over by her climax and soaking it in.
She told me once that Miles could never find her G-spot. Said that I've had her spoiled since our first time together at the beginning of the summer and that ever since, he can't even make her cum. I've told her that I'm sorry, that I wish she could have a better sex life with her boyfriend. But I think she could tell how smug I was to know this.
I help her ride it out, never stopping the work of my hand or my mouth until I can feel her shaking, and even then I keep it going so she can milk it for all its worth. Only when she's really panting and going limp into my mattress do I slow it down enough to ween her off of the movements and withdraw my fingers, leaning up to slip them into my mouth.
Her eyes drift open to half-mast so she can look up at me. I smirk, making a little show out of the way I draw my tongue across my fingers (I know she loves to watch it) before taking them out and leaning in so I can press my lips to hers. "You always taste so good, you know that?" I can feel her small shiver as her eyes roll back, so I just keep kissing around her mouth. She's too heated to act like she isn't. I smirk, palming her inner thighs and moving them away from each other so that I can drift back down and gently brush my tongue against her, humming softly as I swirl the tip of it along her entrance. She starts off weak, just breathing heavily as I lap at what I've done to her. But it's not long before her body is wriggling again.
"You got another one in there for me?" I tease, perking up a bit in a promise to give her what she's been dying for. She just nods fervently and lets her legs fall further apart, asking me to move in closer—pleading, really—which I do. I grab for her hips, pulling her down so that they meet with mine, and let one hand wrap around myself. She senses the movement and glances down, propping herself back on her elbows so she could watch me stroke myself, pressing against her every so often. I let my tip push against her folds, slipping between them but not pushing into her yet, moving myself up and down the line and earning a loud moan of suspense.
"Zig, please..."
But I don't feel like teasing anymore. She's still reeling from the heat of her last peak and I'm too hard to deny myself something the girl is begging for. So I position myself at her entrance and push inside of her.
I moan just off of the initial connection. Her head drifts back almost instantly and she lets out a high-pitched moan, hands both pulling at her own hair as I take a few moments to settle in. There's a shift in the heat between us and her head lolls back into the pillows beneath her, hooded eyes churning up to mine, clouded with need and lust and relief that she's finally getting it. She's finally getting me.
I mean, she's already had me in almost every sense of the word since we were fourteen. Granted, that's only five years when you look at it, but that hasn't made it feel like any less of forever. She was someone I'd never expected to come into my life, especially as young as I was when she did, but ever since I haven't been able to shake her. I haven't even wanted to.
Her hips roll forward as she pushes herself against me, demanding a pickup. I nod and draw myself out to push in a little further, biting my lip and groaning as I can feel her clench against me. "Maya..." My voice cracks like I'm a teenager and I repeat the motion, getting a little deeper every time. "How...are you always...so...tight..." I'm eternally taken aback by the fact that she feels this good every time I'm inside of her.
And she loves hearing me say it; her eyes roll back and her body curves into mine and her hips rock against me in her own attempt to feel more. I take her off-guard when I pull out almost all the way so that I can slam myself back into her, getting almost as far as I can. Her eyes press shut and she grabs for my shoulders with her blue-lacquered nails. "Oh my god, Zig!"
My name on such a desperate breath drums up something primal within me, and I groan as I use this mutual need to set a tempo between us, my hands coasting behind her thighs to hike them up my hips so that I can settle my weight on my knees and pedal my body on hers. Her breathing continues to waver, tapering off into little moans at the tail-end of each thrust, already broken up since she hasn't fully recovered yet from her last orgasm. Yet here she is, working towards another one. Desperate for it, I'd even say.
Somewhere in this very town, her boyfriend is probably wondering where she is. She told me he's been getting suspicious enough for her to stop telling him when she's even hanging out with me anymore. They've been dating on-and-off for just about four years now, and I can tell she's done with him, but she's a sucker for familiarity. That's why she's nineteen and constantly crawling into bed with me, the first boy she ever wanted. Not that she got her fill even back then. We've been unfinished business for years.
They're both in college now—I would be if I could afford it—and yet we're all still perpetually stuck in this position that high school put us in; the two of them together, me wedged in between. Not that this particular position is something I've always had. Maya and I had merely shared scattered kisses throughout our adolescence. Nothing got naked until the beginning of last month, when she'd come home from her first year at university and wanted to hang out. "Catch up", she'd called it.
And we did catch up.
And then we hooked up.
And we've continued to do so ever since.
Still, each time, her small, needy figure ignites by my touch like it's the first one all over again, when we'd familiarized each other with the contact of something we'd both been thinking about for years. That first time she was a mess in heat, like she was foreign to it and had no idea how to handle that type of pleasure. Now she still doesn't know what to do with it, but she flocks to gain it, pushes herself against me and pulls my clothes off of me and bathes in the shared lust like she'll never feel something this good again. Who the hell could deny a girl such a thing?
Besides, I can't act like I get no satisfaction out of knowing that Miles Hollingsworth III is probably out there looking for the very girl who's underneath me right now. And there's only satisfaction in knowing what I'm doing to her while I've got her here.
My hands coast down the gentle curvature of her sides to slide over the small of her back and splay over her bottom, lifting her up off of the mattress as I prop myself onto my knees. I keep her hips midair and tilted against mine as I pick up the pace, watching her eyes roll back and her arms fall to lay over her the haphazard mess of blonde she's scattered about my pillows. I can't help but smirk knowingly as I position myself so that when I buck myself into her, I directly hit her—
"Zig—right there!" She writhes, turning to putty in my hands, tightening around me and getting wetter somehow. Now it's my turn to close my eyes and let out a guttural moan, my nails bearing into the skin of her ass as I move faster, grunting at the way I just glide into her at this point.
"Jesus, Maya..."
"Don't stop, please...!"
"Why...the fuck...would I do that...?" I chuckle through my own heavy breathing, slipping one hand between her legs to hook my elbow beneath her knee and pry her thighs further apart, my mouth falling open as I feel myself sink impossibly deeper into her. "I'm not...gonna stop...until I feel you cum for me...do you understand...?"
"Oh my God—!"
"I said do you understand, Maya?"
She nods fervently, "Uh-huh...yeah...I understand..."
I nod as well. "Good..." And I slow down to reclaim my position and dig into the motions, slamming into her spot every few thrusts and intoxicating myself off of the way she whimpers when I get it, how her body contracts surrounding me. She gives me this incredible combination where she's wet and welcoming, all too eager for me to fuck her senseless, but when I do she goes so taut I have to push at it. It's invigorating, rousing the hedonist in me to drag my nails up the curves of her backside and demand she whet me some more. "Talk to me baby...how are you feeling..."
"Mmm...good..."
"How good..."
"...Really good..."
"...Getting closer...?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Mhmm...I can feel it..." I start pounding faster against her, hissing through gritted teeth, my voice getting low and husky. "You're so tight, baby..."
"Oh my god..." She whines in a high pitch, her body curving into the air so she's held closer against me, "...You're just really big..."
I have to smirk. "Mmm...yeah...?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Biggest you've had...?"
"Yeah..."
"Best you've had...?"
"Yeah..."
I grin, nodding, "That's what I like to hear, Maya..." I know I'm feeding my own ego at this point but it's not like she isn't willing to do it for me. She's really the one that made it abundantly clear that she's grown so addicted to my particular strain of stimulation because she hadn't reached it anywhere else. Personally, I never thought myself to be anything extraordinary in bed until I had her squirming beneath me and telling me otherwise. I was surprised, but I wasn't going to tell her she was wrong. All I've wanted since then was to prove her right, really. She wasn't my first by any means, but perhaps no girl I've touched before her meant enough to inspire this side of me, the one that indulges in getting her off over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. There was something that made me proud knowing that, even though I don't excel in really any other area in life, at least I know that no one else can make Maya Matlin cum the way that I can. Sure, I shake her for the validation, but not before I make sure to make her shake. It's drunken me so much that sometimes I hardly recognize my own pleasure—not that there isn't any, there's plenty. I just tend to lose myself in making sure she gets hers, first.
She nods, wetting her lips and letting a hand fall to lightly bite at her knuckles. "...I can't take it..." She whimpers with so much elation she almost sounds like she's in pain.
"Oh, trust me, babe..." I muse, slowing down and painstakingly grinding against her, "You're taking it..."
"—Zig—!"
"—You're taking...all...of it..."
"—Oh, fuck!" Her mouth drops open as I thrust deeply, her eyes pressing shut and her petite frame fighting me for more. There's a thin sheen of sweat coating her essence of a summer tan, and the mascara she wore to enhance her already brilliant eyes is smudging her lids, and her golden hair is all tangled and she's biting her fingers and fuck, she's the most ravishing creature and I don't know how the hell someone like me has been given the honor of holding her in my own two hands, but fuck, I'm going to make it mean something.
"Don't hold out on me, Maya..." I slide a pillow out from under her head and tuck it beneath her hips, lowering them back to the mattress but forcing her thighs apart so they lie nearly flat. As I hover over her, I can see in her eyes and feel in her body how urgent she is to finish. My thumbs press to her hipbones and my hands mold to her sides as I prep myself to go into overdrive. "No one's home...I want to hear it all..."
She nods, her voice weak and wispy. "Okay..."
"Okay..." And I grip to her body and slam myself into her. She instantly breaks to call out in heat, but I just get faster and go harder, feeling her practically crumbling in my grasp. The more she gives in, the more I give her, because her body is giving out and I'm not giving up, drumming up all of the power I can muster and giving it my all as she gives herself over to me. I can tell she's caving from the erratic way she responds to my drastic rhythm, but that's just my cue to keep going.
She moans loudly—curses, mewls, lets out my name in several different cadences—and she's trying to rebound my pace but she's shorting out. I take it as incentive to angle myself just right and strike her spot once again.
"—Fuck, baby—!"
"That good, baby?"
"Yeah—really good..."
"Good, good..." I slow down enough to make a real impact when I hit it again.
"Oh my God!"
"Come on, Maya..."
"Zig—Iloveyousomuch—!"
"I love you, too, Maya..." I can't even flinch. This is commonplace at this point. I never know what it is; her confessing her long-withheld feelings for me, imagining I'm her boyfriend for the last moments of our liaisons, imagining I'm her boyfriend, just a way to say she loves having sex with me, a sort of "thank you", an automatic response to high points of pleasure...I can't say, but I can't let it bother me that she only says it when she's at the cusp of her climax. I just say it back and enjoy that she says it at all, basking in the warmth it consumes me in. Subconsciously, it may even be part of why I insist on getting her off so much...
"I'm right there..." She brings me back to Earth.
I nod, "Come on, Maya..."
"I'm gonna..."
"Come on, baby..."
"Zig, I'm right—"
"Come on, my love—"
"Zig!"
When she finishes, her whole body succumbs to these wild contractions that reverberate throughout me. I can feel my eyes roll back and squeeze shut as her hands snap to my back and her nails sink into my muscles, dragging down as she's stricken by her own rapture. Just feeling her in every way—grabbing at me, shaking against me, tightening around me—throws me over my own edge, which I've been on the verge of nearly this whole time but holding back for her sake. For a moment, she's everything—she's always everything for me but at this moment she's all I see, all I hear, all I feel, and knowing that the same goes for her sends shivers up my spine and sparks all over my skin, all-consuming fireworks of euphoria. Zig, I love you so much... It echoes in my head as the ecstasy washes over me and I'm enveloped in the mutual heat, my eyes lazily opening to look down and find her lazily looking up at me as well. The daintiest smirk upturns her parted lips and her gaze is caught between seductive and appreciative. We hold eye contact as we both ride out the sensation, hips rocking in a synchronized, slowing fashion. It's rhythmic and shared, a grateful, wanton cycling of skin and sweat and heat that we burn up in together, and we keep it going for one another until the sparks fade out and we go weak and collapse on top of one another. But even then, I can feel my heart ready to beat out of my chest.
The pounding in my ears and the whirring in my head start to mute and the two of us fall into a quiet afterglow, scored only by our heavy breathing. I could be imagining it, but after a while, even that starts to sync up.
I live for the moments like these, with my body so tangled in Maya Matlin's that I can hardly tell whose is whose. We're swathing each other in so many ways that we practically meld together, and every so often I have to swat away the increasingly impending thought that at some point, this has to end. Eventually, we'll have to pull apart, I'll have to pull out, we'll resume being separate entities with painfully separate lives. Her skin won't be mixed with mine, her breath won't be mixed with mine, I won't be able to tell if our hearts are beating at the same time because she'll be so far away that it'll be hard to even remember that at some point, sometime, we even were this close to each other.
God, I miss her. I miss her already and we're still wrapped up in each other.
I think she can sense me starting to drift as she lets one arm feebly fall so she can touch her fingertips just under my chin and turn me to face her. When I do, she smiles, dipping in to press her lips softly to mine. I instantly give back, my hand cupping the side of her delicate jawline and returning the gesture. I can feel her smile as we settle into a series of gentle kisses, which seem to heat up over time but somehow don't lose their tenderness. This, too, has become a sort of commonplace. I've come to think of it as our way of reflecting on the feelings that were released throughout what we just did without actually talking about them. Exchanging reminders of the closeness, even. Reinforcing what we've said that we're not going to say again until we're in exactly that same position. At least, that's how it feels to me.
After a while she hums quietly and divides the contact, touching her forehead to mine and hugging my head to her chest. "...I should probably get going." She admits with the faintest (but still audible) reluctance.
I nod, forcing a chuckle. "...Yeah, probably. Someone's probably looking for you."
She rolls her eyes and lets out a little laugh. "I wouldn't know. My phone's been off."
"Yeah?" My eyebrows raise.
Her smile spreads and she nods. "...Yeah...I don't like being interrupted when I come here. It's...you time." She pats my arm. "Catching up."
I'm sure my smile is a lot brighter and goofier than I want it to be when I feel it take over my face. "...Cool."
She giggles lightly and kisses my forehead before she starts to break up the contact, scooting herself out from under me in a cue for me to roll off of her. I do, but I let out a subdued whine, feeling what was once a cozy togetherness go cold as she pulls apart from me and starts to scan the floor for her shed clothing.
I watch her, entranced by the way my cheap lighting reflects against the residual dew of her skin. She combs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to fix it but we both know she's gonna need to really tame it before she goes on to see her boyfriend again. I curl up in my pillow, smelling her sweetness still on its fabric.
Zig, I love you so much... It rings in my ears as she goes about my room, an instant playback of every bond her body made with mine and the sounds they earned from her resonating in the near-silence. I love her so much. For so long that I almost can't remember a time when I didn't. I thought I'd be able to clear myself of it with time and distance, but...each time I'm reintroduced to her, and her smile, and her laugh, and her voice, and her touch and her kiss and the way she feels and the way she feels when she needs me, I'm just...thrown right back to square one. I'll never know if she means it when she says it. But fuck if I don't when I say it back.
She takes a seat at the edge of my bed to start slipping her underwear back on when I reach forward to grab her arm. She pauses to look at me, and I smirk. "...Nah..."
Quirking her eyebrows, she chuckles. "What?"
I shake my head, my eyes scanning down her still nude physique. "...Nah...you're not going anywhere."
She rolls her eyes playfully, "Seriously?"
"...Yeah," I smirk, "I'm not finished with you yet."
I'd let her go if she really protested, but she doesn't even try. Just re-strips herself of her underwear and crawls back over to me. Lying back, I watch her as she moves to mount my frame, settling herself on top of me and resting her hands on my hips. "Good," She beams, "Because I'm not finished with you yet, either."