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eternal-evergreens · 6 months ago

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｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - VI"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 4.6k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Non/Con, Gore, Physical Abuse, Victim Blaming, Mental Breaks, Bondage, Abduction, Drugging, Murder/Death, Dissociation, Dissociative Amnesia/Lost Time,

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

You’ve been trying to loosen your bonds for a while—the drugs long out of your system—but it’s hard when one of your wrists is injured. You can hardly move it without pain shooting up your entire arm. You can hardly even feel your fingers, and you’re sure that if you could look, they’d be white as a sheet—or, worse, purple. You stop your shuffling when you hear footsteps approaching the door. Kylar walks in, holding a sketchbook. He probably wants to draw you.

“Kylar, can you take a look at my hands? I think the ropes might be cutting off circulation.” Please don’t be into gangrene, please don’t be into gangrene, please don’t be into gangrene. Kylar puts the food down and walks behind you.

He touches your hand. “C-can you feel that?”

“Feel what?” You say, trying to feign ignorance in hopes you’ll be taken more seriously. Kylar doesn’t say anything, but you feel him undo your restraints before retying them more lightly. Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, you have to suppress a sigh in relief as you feel pins and needles begin to prick at your skin.

“Better?” Kylar stands in front of you now.

“Could you just undo them instead? I’ll be good, I promise.” You bat your eyes and try to put on your best cutesy voice, but Kylar just shakes his head. You aren’t going to convince him this way. He wants you helpless.

You’re going to have to try something else.

Bile threatens to rise up your throat, but you suppress it as you allow your eyes to droop in a more seductive manner. “Really? That’s a shame…I was going to surprise you with something if you did, but if you don’t want to…” Kylar’s eyes go wide.

“W-wait! I’ll do it!” He rushes behind you, scrambling to get your binds off with such haste that it actually takes longer than if he had taken his time. When you’re finally free, you don’t hesitate to rush to Kylar, pushing him against the wall with your uninjured hand. He doesn’t resist, and you can tell from his flushed face and his erratic breathing that his guard is nonexistent right now. You kiss him, pinning his hands above his head. When he closes his eyes, you knee him in the balls as hard as you can. +Control

Kylar crumples to the floor, but you doubt he’ll stay there long. You rush towards the door and swing it open, following the flickering and entering the room it leads to. You grab the flashlight and run out the door, fumbling to turn it on in the dark as you focus on running.

You don’t make it in time. You run into Kylar, knocking both him and yourself over. You scramble to get up, but Kylar has already grabbed your arm. He’s not very strong, but your panic doesn’t allow you to recognize that, and you freeze. Only for a second, but a second is all it takes. You feel a sharp pain in your arm, and everything fades to black.

—————————

It is Sunday, the 13th of September, 2022. It has been 9 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: Tears well in your eyes Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You feel refreshed Stress: You are strained Trauma: You are tormented Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You have 6 days to escape.

When you wake up this time, you feel much less under the weather than the first time you were hit. Probably due to the fact it had been several hours since you were shot. You feel capable of basic movement, and you’re confident that if you can just fight through the pain, you’ll be able to get out of these bonds.

And you do. You rub against your restraints until you feel something warm and wet trickle down from your wrists onto the floor. Then you keep going. +++Pain +++Willpower

Your ropes are looser than they were. But it could easily take another day or even two until you’re able to get out of them. After your first attempt, Kylar double-wrapped you, and he added ropes to connect your legs to the chair.

You hear footsteps approaching the door, so you stop struggling and wait. The next thing you know, the room is dark, and Kylar is on the floor with his head in your naked lap, seemingly sleeping. You feel slime on your bare skin between your thighs and fresh bruises all over your body. There are bandages on your wrists. He probably noticed your attempt to escape and hit you for it. You don’t know. You have no way of knowing. All you know is that you’re hurt and scared, your ropes are just as tight as they were this morning, and now even your waist is tied to the chair.

You can’t do anything about it without waking up Kylar, so you’ll have to wait until morning before trying anything else.

—————————

It is Monday, the 14th of September, 2022. It has been 10 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: Tears run down your face Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are strained Trauma: You feel numb Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You have 5 days to escape.

“Good morning, my little tease,” Kylar says, smiling and without a hint of embarrassment.

Do you wish to view Kylar’s stats? Y/N

You blink twice at “Yes,” and a blue textbook appears beside him.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is manic Fascination: 100% Love: 10% Devotion: 10% Jealousy: 95% Lust: 55%

Before you have time to process the new changes in his devotion and love stats, Kylar begins to sob.

“W-what are you looking at? I’m right here!” He waves an arm in front of the textbox, effectively blocking your view. +++Jealousy

You turn your gaze back to him, and he visibly relaxes, though he still looks on edge.

“Sorry. I thought I saw a bug.” -Jealousy. Your voice is so dead that if it weren’t for the feeling of your vocal cords moving, you never would have recognized it as your own at all. Kylar tenses and quickly whips around, frantically searching for a bug that doesn’t exist. You use the opportunity to check his stats again, and see that in just the span of a few seconds, you’ve managed to up his jealousy from 96% to 99%.

You should be feeling dread right now, but all that washes over you is ice-cold indifference.

“I don’t see it,” Kylar says, voice low. “Were you lying to me?” You tilt your head but don’t answer. Kylar seems to be spurned on by this, though you know he would have found a way to get upset even with your input. “I don’t understand. Who are you thinking about?! I’m right here!” He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as much as your restraints will allow. You steal a glance towards the status window.

Jealousy: 100%

“Is…is it him? Were you thinking about him?” Kylar’s voice begins to take on a tone of insanity. “Wh-when we were together…were you pretending it was him?” His grip on you tightens, but you feel disconnected from the pain. He pushes your chair over again, leaving you to land painfully on your arms. Again. He starts hitting you, screaming incomprehensibly. You can make out a few words.

“Cheater”

“Love”

“Hate”

“Bailey”

You stop listening.

He’s still hitting you, straddling your waist to get a better angle. You wonder if he even realizes he’s hard right now. You hope not.

Kylar pulls a knife to your neck, pressing it against the skin until you feel something warm and wet start to dribble down and pool onto your collarbone. You stay like that for a few seconds, with Kylar methodically applying pressure at a rate too consistent for him to not be at least partially clear-headed.

You swallow. It was involuntary, and you hadn’t meant anything by it, but the movement seemed to be enough to break Kylar out of his daze as he quickly repulses, dropping the knife and staggering backward. It takes him a moment to realize he should probably set you upright again, too.

He doesn’t say anything, seemingly unable to do anything but meet your blank stare. You don’t say anything, either. You have nothing to say. Kylar hangs his head, muttering apologies to himself. You see tears dripping down onto the floor.

An idea strikes you.

“Do you want forgiveness?” You ask, trying (failing) to make your voice sound anything but flat. Kylar whips up, nodding his head vigorously. You see snot and tears running down his face, which is covered in blotches. Of course, he’s an ugly crier. You focus your vision away from his face. “Earn it.”

“H-how?” His voice indicates a clogged or tight throat. You guess he feels terrible. Good.

“Being cooped up at home isn’t good for anyone. Let’s go somewhere. Together.”

It takes a bit of convincing to get him to agree, but as soon as you mention the word “date,” he’s all but putty in your hands. He wanted to tie you to him, but you managed to talk him down to just holding your wrist like a slightly less madman. Your clothes have been irreparably destroyed; you’ll have to borrow from Kylar. —Jealousy (Kylar’s current jealousy: 45%)

After getting changed and cleaning up your cut, Kylar and you leave the manor. As expected, this brief outing doesn’t automatically complete your quest. You’ll have to make it permanent. His grip is tight, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You just need to escape this place. Things will get better.

They have to.

“You’re going to do whatever I want today, right?” Kylar nods with vigor. You try to smile. Your muscles don’t move. “Good.”

You take Kylar to the shopping center. It’s school, so you don’t need to worry about running into anyone. You glance at the hairdressers. He’d probably go bald if you asked him to. You almost feel the urge to giggle. Almost. -Trauma

You take him to the clothing store, picking out everything that looks expensive, ugly, or extremely diffucult to get on and off. Kylar doesn’t say anything as you browse, but a few stolen glances indicate he’s extremely nervous. -Trauma

He let go of your wrist so you could look around, opting to switch his hold to a dart gun instead. You wouldn’t make it very far if you ran now.

You hand him a pair of heeled boots to try on. He seems hesitant, so you offer to help him lace them up. He won’t be used to walking in heels, so running after you will be extremely diffucult. You’ll be sure to triple-knot the laces so he can’t undo them easily. -Stress

Kylar watches you as you kneel by his feet, a slight hunger in his eyes. +Lust +Stress

You suppress the urge to shiver. You finish getting him in the shoes and stand up quickly. Kylar struggles to remain balanced and has to hold onto you for support. His dart gun has been put back in his bag so he can better cling to you.

You help him into a corset next, making sure to lace it much, much, much tighter than it needs to be. Kylar looks back at you pleadingly a couple of times, but you just show him your neck in response, and his gaze returns to the ground. +Lust

Running will be even harder. -Stress

You bring him an open-shoulder lolita dress next, simply because it looks difficult to get on and off.

“I don’t need to help you get this one on,” you say, pushing Kylar into the changing room before he can protest, watching blankly as he lands on his butt. You close the curtain and wait until you hear the rustling of clothes before sneaking away, planning to switch to running as soon as you’re out the door. Unfortunately, Kylar seems to have been watching your feet, as he speaks up as soon as you move away from the curtain.

“M-My love? Where are you going?”

“Just pacing,” you say. +Jealousy

“St-stay where I can see you.”

You run. +++Jealousy

You hear scrambling and falling from the curtain, as well as the sound of the curtain rod crashing to the ground. You don’t look back, but it wouldn’t have mattered if you did.

A sharp pain hits you right in the back of your thigh. —Control

—————————

You missed 5 lessons yesterday. ++Deliquency —Status It is Tuesday, the 14th of September, 2022. It has been 11 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You feel refreshed Stress: You are tense Trauma: You are tormented Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You have 4 days to escape.

Kylar is already sitting across from you by the time you wake up, sketching something in his notepad.

…You should try to get on his good side again, though you can barely bring yourself to care. Right now, you’re operating out of sheer will alone.

“Can I see?” Kylar glances up at you but doesn’t say anything. He goes back to sketching. You try to smile. You feel your lips quirk, but you’re not sure if its upwards. “Do you have a favorite color to use while drawing?” You ask, sneaking a glance towards the status floating next to him. (Jealousy: 99%) Kylar glances at you but continues his silence.

“Maybe you can use something with my favorite color sometime. Do they call those monochromatics? When are there different shades of one color? Or does it have to be the same shade?” You thought asking about his interests might make him pipe up and let his guard down, but he seems hellbent on wasting your breath.

“I don’t know if you know my favorite color, actually. I’m not sure if anyone does, actually. It changed a while ago, and I don’t think it’s ever come up since.” Kylar pauses, just for a second. The idea of exclusivity always gets people, especially if it’s about something they like. “Do you want me to tell you?” Kylar nods.

“Promise to make me a picture in that color, and I will.” A look of hesitation flickers across Kylar’s face, probably wondering how you could use a piece of paper to escape him—you’ve really broken his trust, haven’t you? You may need to lay low for a few days, as much as the idea makes your skin crawl.

At last, Kylar nods, and you tell him your favorite shade of the rainbow. He gets to work on your picture right after, tearing off what he was previously working on and leaving it unfinished on the floor. You sneak a peek at it. It’s a picture of you getting strangled. +Trauma

—————————

You missed 5 lessons yesterday. ++Deliquency –Status It is Wednesday, the 15th of September, 2022. It has been 12 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are fatigued Stress: You are tense Trauma: You are tormented Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You have 3 days to escape.

Kylar didn’t bring you any food yesterday. You didn’t bring it up either, but now it’s hours past midnight, and your stomach is keeping you from sleep. Not having anything else to do, you use the opportunity to check on things. Primarily, you never did take a look at what Eden, Alex, or the two beastmen’s statuses ended up being. Hopefully you’ll never see them again and it won’t matter, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least curious.

First is Eden.

Eden The Hunter Eden is in town Fascination: 80% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 40% Dominance: 0% Lust: 100%

Fuck. Fuck this. Seriously? This game isn’t going to give you even a moment of rest, is it? You don’t know how his jealousy got so high, but you suppose it doesn’t matter right now. You have to deal with Kylar first, and…as much as the idea makes you feel like vomiting, you’re going to need to contact Bailey.

…You move on. No need to linger.

Black Wolf The Alpha Black Wolf wants to see you again

There's not much to see on this one. You feel relieved.

Great Hawk The Terror Great Hawk wants you as his wife Fascination: 100% Love: 0% Devotion: 50% Jealousy: 0% Dominance: 0% Lust: 90%

There isn’t much to this one, either. Honestly, it doesn’t even look that different from his usual status.

Alex The Farmhand Alex wants to start over Fascination: 80% Love: 7% Devotion: 100%* Jealousy: 0% Dominance: 0% Lust: 70% *Alex owes you an apology! You may request one favor to which he can not refuse. Devotion will return to normal after the favor has been spent.

…Huh. That’s weird. Really weird, actually. What’s his goal? Is he actually sorry?

No, if he were sorry, he wouldn’t have done it in the first place. He probably wants to use this as an excuse to get closer to you, now that his first plan has failed. Still, you might be able to leverage something useful out of this, if you play your cards right, that is. At the very least, he’s probably too busy with the farm to come hunt you down in town.

Kylar enters the room, and the textboxes fade from your attention.

You have a lot to think about, but for now, you have to play along.

—————————

You missed 5 lessons yesterday. ++Deliquency –Status You haven't eaten. Your physique has deteriorated slightly as a result. It is Thursday, the 16th of September, 2022. It has been 13 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wide awake Stress: You are tense Trauma: You are tormented Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You have 2 days to escape.

Kylar finally brings in food today after two days of starvation.

“I-I’m sorry for not feeding you earlier,” he says, but doesn't offer anything in the way of excuses or explanations. You think you prefer it that way, honestly. At least he's not pretending to be anything he isn't.

At least you're the only one who has to pretend.

On second thought, maybe it would be better if he was lying to you. Maybe it'd be easier to play along, if he helped you out.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. You have the cards you've been dealt. No use in complaining.

You plaster on the biggest smile you can muster. Your lips barely curl upwards.

“It's okay,” you say. “I was bad.” Kylar seems to light up at your understanding of what he was saying implicitly. But his face then morphs into one of suspicion.

“Y-you’re lying,” he says. “You're manipulating me. You just want me to lower my guard so you can run back to him again.” You barely manage to suppress a flinch.

Kylar grasps you by the shoulders, shaking you. You don't even think, you can't think. You kiss him. ++Lust —Control –Jealousy

Kylar's eyes go wide but quickly flutter closed as his grip on you loosens into something more affectionate than constricting. He straddles you, and you pull away gently, pushing your forehead against his so he knows you aren’t rejecting him.

You feel sick. You almost can’t bring yourself to speak. But you know what you have to say, so you shove those feelings so far down that not even the devil would be able to find them. -Control

“I’m sorry for running away,” you say. “But I realized something.” You try to steady your heartbeat as Kylar seems to salivate in anticipation. -Control

“He can’t fuck me the way you can,” you say, voice shaking and almost a whisper. ”No one can.” -Control

Kylar all but jumps you.

-Control

—————————

You missed 5 lessons yesterday. ++Deliquency –Status It is Friday, the 17th of September, 2022. It has been 14 days since the game started. The game started in autumn. It is autumn. School term finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £1,259 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You are cold Fatigue: You are wide awake Stress: You are calm Trauma: You feel numb Control: You are terrified Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged You must escape by today.

“G-good evening, my love!” Kylar is dressed in a full gothic suit. His makeup is sloppy. You don’t remember how yesterday ended. You don’t want to remember.

You’re tied to a wheelchair this time, and dressed in an elaborate gothic gown lined with cloves of garlic. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t looked down. Your whole body feels numb. You won't be able to escape today. You went through all of that for nothing. Sold your pride for false hope.

“I wanted to introduce you to my parents. You have to be awake for that. You’ll be good for them, right?”

Oh, so this is how you die. You try to nod, but your neck won’t move.

“I gave you a bit of a sedative to calm you down,” Kylar explains. “I know how nervous you can get. I've been working on it for the past few days—that’s why I couldn't see you as often as I'd like.” You have no way of knowing how often he visited you. The idea of him talking to you in your sleep is something you'd rather not think about.

Kylar wheels you out the door. You wonder if it'll hurt when they rip your throat out with their teeth.

You'll find out soon enough.

Kylar’s parents look about how you expected—looming androgynous figures with milk-white skin and sharp teeth. Their baldness and smooth faces make it difficult to tell them apart, but you think one of them has a slightly thinner face. You could be imagining it, though.

“Mom, Dad, this is my fiancee,” Kylar starts. You think he might be skipping a few steps, but it’s hard to expect reason from someone who just sedated you in front of vampires. Kylar is still speaking, going on about how you met and how you fell in love (If you were recording this, it’d be some pretty damning evidence) while Kylar’s parents watch on in silence. They’re still, gaze transfixed upon you. It would be unnerving if you had the energy to care.

Without warning, one of Kylar’s parents is upon you, nearly knocking down the wheelchair but just managing to avoid it. With a claw of silver, they tear through your bonds and lift you up, running through the house to the garden, then out the garden into the forest. They don’t stop until you reach the altar, setting you down and running away.

Well, it was nice of them to let you go, but with the drugs still in your system, you’re kinda stranded. Additionally, you notice that your quest for escaping the manor hasn’t been completed yet, meaning you’re still on their property. You stare up at the sky. It’s nighttime now. You’re running out of time.

Kylar emerges from the bushes sometime later, looking disheveled.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says, approaching you. “I didn't know they would do that. You aren't hurt, are you?” You blink at him, unable to do much else. Kylar seems relieved despite your lack of response. You think you can talk now, but you don’t feel any need to.

“Let's get you back home,” he says, attempting to lift you off the altar. He fails. He tries get you to lean on him, but despite the growing feeling in your legs, you still can't walk. “I-I’ll be right back,” he says. “I'll get your chair.” You watch him go from your place on the altar. As soon as he turns his back to you, you start flexing your fingers and toes.

It’s not over until it’s over.

Your movements seem to help, as within the next few agonizing minutes, you’re able to just barely drag yourself off of the altar, crawling with your arms and legs through the forest underbrush. It’s hard going, but you’re making progress. Still, you hope your legs will regain their strength sooner rather than later.

You shimmy along the path, propelling yourself forward by your elbows and the movements of your hips. You feel sticks and leaves poke through and tear your gothic gown, trying to reach the soft skin underneath. You ignore the pain and press onwards, slowly inching towards freedom, though having no idea what direction it ought to be in.

It occurs to you as you’re crawling that you very well may be making a snail trail in your path, but you have no choice but to press onwards. You won’t find another chance.

So, you keep going. You crawl and crawl until the moon is resting just shy of the center of the sky, and you hear rustling in the distance. You still, hoping it’s just a stray wolf or fox. Hoping that it’s not looking for you. Hoping that even if it is, it’s not Kylar that’s looking.

The rustling stops, and you think you have enough strength in your legs to sit on your knees, so you peek up from behind a bush, just barely above eye level to avoid being seen.

Green eyes meet yours.

In a moment, Kylar is on top of you, screaming unintelligibly. You can make out some of the contents, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the feeling of his knife plunging into your stomach, dragging blood and viscera with it as he rips metal from flesh and plunges it down once again.

You think you’re screaming, too, but it’s hard to tell. Hard to even see anything through the blur of blood and tears running down your face, your sides. You think most of the tears aren’t even yours. You think Kylar is crying harder than you are, that his tears are painting your face as yet another sign of ownership.

You think you might be bleeding out. He must have stabbed you at least a dozen times. You can barely feel it anymore. All you feel is your blood pressure dropping into hell, that unique lightheaded sensation you only get when you’re on the verge of death. Your head is light, all earthly sensations feeling so far away, so disconnected to you.

You feel calm. Peaceful, even. It’s not how you wanted to go, but maybe you can find peace in the fact that it’s over.

Kylar has stopped stabbing you, his knife held over his head in both hands, a look of horror on his face. You smile at him softly. There’s a ribbon tied to the handle of his knife—your favorite color.

It’s the last thing you see.

Feat unlocked—The end is never the end.

—————————

#dol #degrees of lewdity #yandere degrees of lewdity #yandere x reader #male yandere #kylar the loner #bailey the caretaker #dol x reader #yandere dol #degrees of lewdity x reader

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playthingsforpeanut · 5 months ago

Text

One Night Repair

A/N: Hey so I've had this idea of !WorstWolverine meeting someone at a bar and having really aggressive sex to blow off steam... it gets pretty cute at the end in my opinion so I hope you like it. Takes place post time ripper.

Pairing: Worst!Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You meet Logan at a bar, and he ends up wrecking your apartment. You'd usually object in the morning but... he had something else in mind.

Content Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, p in v, creampie, fingering (fem! receiving), light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (f + m receiving), literally words of pure nasty smut, idk I'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. porn & somewhat plot (in between the lines), actually y’all i apologize this is just pure smut i think, rough sex, overstimulation, slapping, pussy slapping, tiny hint of arousal from crying, Praise kink, Pet names (hun, baby, doll, sweetheart, darlin’, angel, honey, bunny), Squirting, Body worship, slight use of restraints, Dom x Brat... If I missed anything please tell me.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The evening dragged on like any other. Another late night shift, another bar full of drunk bastards. You like that the owner would let you wear what you wanted to work, and tonight, you opted for a simple black tank top and black workout leggings. They hugged your curves well enough to get decent tips but didn't expose you enough to get groped by strangers, not that any of these bastards were smart enough to not touch you like that.

Most of the evening was normal, your regulars ordered their usuals, and you kept up your friendly facade as you worked.

Unfortunately for one patron, he decided to grab you as you leaned over the table to deliver his group's next round of drinks, earning a concerned brow raise from Logan, who was sitting at the bar. You had tried making small talk when he ordered his drinks from you, but he preferred to stay quiet. You shrugged it off as him not wanting company and carried on with your orders.

"Excuse you, I am not on the menu." You bitch rather loudly, grabbing his hand and pinning it to the table with a rather quick motion. Tonight was not the night to fuck with you. You were itching for a fight, but not enough that you'd be willing to lose your job.

"Ey, ey easy sweetheart! Just trying to have a good time!" He groaned, pulling his hand free from the pressure grip.

"You're done." You said calmly, "You leave your money and you get the hell outta here." You release his arm, and saunter your way back to behind the bar, cursing to yourself under your breath.

"Nice technique," Logan speaks up. "But next time you should break his wrist." He takes a swig from his beer.

You turn your head from the drink you were mixing to look him over. You toss him a half smile. "You wanna be next?"

He chuffs. "Tempting."

You roll your eyes and serve the mixed drink, moving on to cleaning some stacked-up glasses. He eyes you out of the corner of his, nursing his beer. He noticed how your attitude had changed, your responses to the patrons weren't nearly as friendly as they were when he arrived.

Closing time finally rolled around, and Logan couldn't help but wait outside with a cigar in his mouth. You cleaned up the bar, and as you locked up, you spotted the tall stranger leaning nearby.

"You lurking?" You put your hands in your jacket pockets as you turn to confront the stranger.

"Walkin'" He said. "Thought you'd want an escort." He puts out his cigar on the cold brick wall, also putting his hands in his pockets.

"I can handle myself." You scoff.

"Heh, Yeah, I saw that," He admitted, stepping a bit closer. "But I didn't like how that guy eyed the alley on his way out."

You roll your eyes, shake your head, and begin walking toward your apartment, which is only a few blocks away.

He followed from a safe distance, but not too far so he could still be there if something happened to you.

"I don't need a bodyguard." You call over your shoulder.

"I know. I'm walkin' home too." He replied with a smirk.

You roll your eyes and continue your path home. He continued behind you, just a few steps away. You stop at a traffic light, and he stops next to you.

"I never caught your name..." You say looking up toward him.

He smirks and faces you. You can't help the way your eyes dilate as you take in his features. He was handsome, in a rugged way. Something about him made you want to climb him like a tree but, you weren't that easy... were you?

"It's Logan." You hum a response and turn to face the pedestrian light that changed to allow you to walk. He followed a bit closer now, but making sure to read your body language to make sure he wasn't making you too uncomfortable.

"Why did you really follow me home? Hmm? looking for somewhere to crash?" You decide to at least make some small talk.

"Like I said, thought you'd want an escort." His replies were brief, which was relatively aggravating. Thankfully your apartment complex was only a few feet away.

"And like I said, I can handle myself." You toss back. You twirl quickly to meet his gaze, causing him to stop abruptly. "So thank you but no thank you, you can fuck off now, Logan"

His eyes darkened as you cussed at him. His brow raised at your boldness. His lips were inches from yours, and his breath fanned over your flushed cheeks.

"Say that again." He growled.

"Say what?" You stood your ground, not allowing your body to falter. You kept a strong stance, eyes fixed on his. "Logan?" You smirked, enjoying how worked up he seemed.

He pressed closer, pushing you against the door to your apartment. You sucked in a breath at the forced proximity, your eyes glancing at his lips briefly.

Logan loved how defiant you were. He would've left you alone at the door had you not whipped around on him and sassed him like that.

"Say the word, and I'll walk away," He leaned in closer, his large, muscular arm bracing his tall frame against your door.

Your legs rubbed together to soothe the newfound ache between your thighs. 'Fuck it...' you thought. If he was gonna tax your time and patience after a shit night, the least he could do for you is be a good lay.

You arched your back into him, allowing your lips to connect in a rough, passionate kiss. His teeth graze your bottom lip, his tongue following suit, as he attacks you. His free hand meets your waist, pinning you to the door. You can’t help the soft whimper from escaping you, as his hand slides down your thigh and pulls your knee up to his waist.

He moves down and sinks his teeth on the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. Your hands move to his neck, holding on for some kind of grounding. You open your eyes, coming down and realizing you are still in the hallway. “Fuck…” you groan.

“Such a dirty little mouth…” Logan growled into your neck. He took a moment to catch his breath.

A shiver ran down your spine, and your hips buck involuntarily. Logan smiles against your flushed skin. “Oh… You like that?” He purred.

God, you hated this guy. He is so cocky but he’s so fucking attractive you can’t help but want him. “Oh shut up…” You groan.

“Do you not want me, pretty girl?” He cooed.

You don’t reply. You do want him, but you couldn’t let the smug bastard have that satisfaction. He leans back to meet your hazy gaze. He licks his lips at the sight of your swollen lips, and at that, you find yourself turning around to unlock your apartment door.

Logan removes his arm from the door and watches as you go inside. He’s more respectful than you thought. He actually fucking waited for you to invite him inside. You look at him, half exasperated at his cockiness, and half desperate for him to come in. You stand there holding the door open.

“May I come in?” He asks with a sly smile, leaning against the door frame.

You roll your eyes and grab him by the jacket, pulling him inside. “Oh Fuck you.” Your lips crash into his as he enters your apartment. The door shuts behind him, and his hands immediately find your hips. He growls and harshly pushes you against the wall. You thought you were just crazy, but he threw you against that wall so hard, he dented your wall.

“Filthy fucking mouth…” He growled between the fight of your lips and teeth. His words pull a moan from you, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Logan’s hands grip your thighs firmly. You whimper when you feel his very hard cock pressing against his jeans into your core.

You tug off his jacket and throw it aggressively to the floor. Logan’s hands wander to your tank top, making quick work of removing it. His hands roam your body, almost as if in silent worship.

“Fuck…” You groan. You lean forward and bite his neck hard, causing Logan to buck his hips and punch the wall. A growl ripped from his throat as he gripped your hips and ground into your core, pulling another needy whine from your throat.

“You want this?” He growled, grinding into your core again. “You fucking want me to fuck you pretty girl?” He bites your neck back pulling another moan from your lips.

“Mmh fuck you… fucking asshole.” You whine. You grab his shirt and pull it off, ripping some of the threads as you do. He allows it, before his hand wraps around your throat, holding your head against the wall, squeezing hard enough for you to get a slight high from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, dirty girl. The only curses you’re gonna make are pleas to god.” Your eyes meet his, and you bite your bottom lip.

“Is that a promise?” You grind your hips against him again, a fierce need building quickly, Logan growls again.

“Needy fucking thing…” He curses to himself. He spots the couch in the dim room and throws you on it. “Take ‘em off.” Logan orders. You bite your lip as you watch him remove his belt expertly. He starts to wrap the belt into a figure 8. “Now.” His eyes flicked from your pants to your eyes.

Defiance shone in your eyes. “Make me.” You smile devilishly, crossing your arms. Logan let out an annoyed huff, and yanked your legs to him, spreading you wide. He started to kiss you passionately again, and just as you thought you got away with it, Logan raised his hand and slapped your heated core.

The sound that escapes your lips is a mixture of pleasure and pain. “What the hell?!” You whimper. Logan’s eyes are dark.

“I said, take, em’, off.” His voice left no room for discussion. You stare at him as your thumbs hook the waist of your pants, and slowly pull them down, exposing your soaked undergarments. The scent of you filled Logan’s nose. He let out a low growl. “Good girl.” His hand glides up your thigh feeling how wet you were. “Mmh look at you. Already soaking wet for me. Such a pretty little fucking thing.”

Goosebumps rose over your body, his words sending shivers throughout your body. Or was it his hands? Where one hand was grazing your cunt gently, the other was pulling on your hair slightly as he held himself up over you. He grabs your hands and pins them over your head. He slides his belt over your wrists, tightening it.

He places rough kisses down your body, biting here and there. He hovered over your cunt, releasing a hot breath over it, making you arch your back and whine. Logan smirked. “Mmh look at you, so wet for me.” He hooks his arms around your thighs, holding them open for him. He inhales and runs his tongue up the length of your cunt, over your soaked panties.

A moan escapes your lips, your hips bucking from the contact. “Now are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” He licks his lips.

“Maybe” you reply.

Logan grunts and leans forward. You cry out as a sharp pain emits from your cunt, where Logan just bit through your garment.

“Rule one.” He looks into your eyes from his position between your thighs. “You do as I say. You be a good girl, and you get pleasure. You be bad?” He licks over the sensitive spot he just bit. “And you get pain. Understand?” He holds eye contact, waiting for an answer.

“Yes…” You say through a breathy moan.

“Yes, what?” He grazes his thumb over your trembling lower half.

“Yes… sir.” You bite your lip and gaze at him through hooded lids.

“Good girl.” He smiles and pulls your underwear down your thighs. You whimper as the cool air of your apartment meets your aching core, and Logan watches as you clamp around nothing. “Such a needy little thing, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already aching for me.” He smirks and lazily strokes your inner thigh, avoiding all the best spots on purpose. You groan in frustration.

"Ah ah ah... patience counts toward you being good, you want to be good for me don't you kitten?" He rubs his thumb over your clit, pulling another stuttering gasp from your lips.

"Y-yes s-sir." You whisper. He smirks and glides his tongue up the length of your cunt, flicking your clit gently with each stroke. A silent praise for your good behavior. You moan as he laps up your pussy, acting like a man starved. You instinctively roll your hips, but Logan keeps them firmly planted under his arms. His thick biceps hold you down with ease.

You begin to feel that familiar ache in your lower belly, as he draws little circles with the tip of his tongue around that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He adjusts his arms, one placed over your lap and the other begins teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in and groans at how you squeeze him.

"Fuck..." He growled between laps. "So tight..." He can only imagine the feeling of sheathing himself inside you later. He knew he needed to work you up to that though. So after a few soft thrusts, Logan slides his ring finger in, pulling a desperate moan from your lips. He curls his fingers expertly till he finds the spongey sensitive spot in your core. You arch your back as he finds it. "There it is..." He moans. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard while offering soft flicks of his tongue for relief. He feels your walls quaking around his fingers. He knows you're close.

"FUCK!" You moan out. Logan's merciless attack on your most sensitive spots sends you barrelling toward your climax so fast it's dizzying. Your moans grew louder and more desperate as he continued his attack.

"You wanna cum baby?" He growled, his words muffled. "Ask me, baby, nicely, and I'll let you."

"Fuck you!" You cry, your body hot and writhing. Logan bit down on your clit again, pulling a pained wail from your lips.

"I said behave pretty girl. That's the only way you're gonna get what you want." He thrust a third finger in aggressively.

You moan louder at the intrusion, digging your nails into your palms. "Fuck! P-Please.. pleaseeee..." You whine, your body so close to its release.

"Please what?" He lifts his head off your cunt for a moment to hear you better.

"Please.. please can I cum? Please Logan I want to.. I need to cum...." You whine. The need to finish overwhelming your iron will. Logan, now satisfied with your pleas, lowers his head and continues to flick your clit with his tongue, pulling the most pathetic little sounds from your lips. Your walls flutter around his probing digits.

“That’s right baby,” he cooed “let go for me…” your toes curled at his words. The final push your body needed to release a cry of his name, followed by a mumbled jumble of curses. He smirks and laps up the excess fluids spewing from your body as he relishes in the mess he’s making of you. His fingers slow, and he raises to place a hard kiss on your lips. He trails down to your jaw, giving your clit soft circles with his thumbs as he helps you ride it out. “Goooood girl…” he moans into your neck.

You whimper as he removes his hand from your cunt. He uses his free hand to grip the back of your head and pull it back slightly, earning another gasp of pleasurable pain from your lips. “Open,” he growls.

You whimper and look into his eyes for a moment, unsure what he meant. He furrows his brow and pulls your hair a bit tighter. “Open your mouth, pretty girl.” He says again. You whimper but slowly open your mouth for him. He slides his fingers into your mouth and you suck them clean. He grins, releasing a breathy groan as he watches you greedily suck on his fingers.

"Atta girl, atta girl..." He smiles and pulls his hand away, replacing his fingers with his lips and tongue. You moan as he wraps his arms around your waist. He lifts you off the couch to your feet. He places you down on your feet. "Can you walk?" He says in a low growl.

"You think I can't?" You reply sarcastically, catching your breath. He chuckles and removes the restraints in your hands.

"So feisty." His eyes graze over your face, which was defiantly looking back at him. You smile and bite your lip, as a wicked idea crosses your mind. This fucking man just made you a whimpering mess and you intended to do the same to him. Before he catches on, you turn and shove him onto the couch. "Hey wait-" You grab him through his jeans and smile up at him from your knees.

"What? Do I have to ask for permission to suck your cock too?" You smirk. He smiles and chuckles to himself.

"I suppose not." He unbuttons his jeans and you help him pull them off. You suck in a short breath when you spot how big he is. You run your hand over his bulge and hook your fingers in the waistband. You expose his member, as it springs free with a loud *thwack* against his toned abdomen. You bite your lip at the sight. You inhale deeply and grip him firmly, bringing him to your lips. You lick up the length of him, flicking the tip that's dribbling with pre cum. He lets out a breath of relief and lounges his arms across the back of the couch.

'The smug bastard' you thought. You'd be lying if you said you hated how he immediately took control of you, but now was time for your revenge. You look in his length, allowing him to slip into the back of your throat with ease. You smile at the buck of his hips, and glide your teeth back up his shaft, earning a hiss. He looked down at you with a glare, and you simply smiled at him innocently. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck while pumping his shaft with your fist. You work him slowly at first, enjoying how he groans at your touch.

Now that you've got him, you start bobbing your head on his cock. The sound of his dick hitting the back of your throat, paired with his groans fill the room. When his moans get particularly loud you graze your teeth along his shaft once more. He growls and grabs your hair at the base of your head.

"Behave..." He warns. You smile innocently again.

"I am behaving." You tease

"Little fuckin' brat..." He mumbles.

Your mouth is replaced with your fist, however, you're quick to occupy your mouth. You dip your head between his legs, holding his glistening cock so it's pressed against his belly as you press your wet tongue onto his balls. He bucks his hips and groans, tugging at your hair.

The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster. The lewd sounds of your actions fill the room along with the rising sounds escaping Logan's lips. His moans are deeper, harsher, and you can feel his pulse through his cock. He's close. You work him perfectly, syncing your bobbing head with your hands, stroking and massaging.

"F- Fuck!" He growls. He bucks his hips up while grabbing your head and holding you in place. "Stay still, stay right fuckin' t-there." He strains. With another flick of your tongue, he unloads into your mouth. You drink him greedily and smile. The sweat dripping down the side of his face was enough for you to know he was spent.

When his grip on your head loosens, you smirk and graze your teeth along his shaft once more. The smirk on your face is quickly wiped away when Logan hisses and grabs your head again.

"I told you to behave." He growled. "And look at you, all smug because you think after one little orgasm I'm done with you?" He catches his breath and unsheathes a claw. "Little do you know brat, I'm just getting started with you." He cuts the center of your bra off with his claw, and grabs your now exposed breast aggressively. You bite your lip to hide the moan that threatened to erupt. Fuck, this guy was hot.

He pulls your head closer to his, causing you to crawl up the couch over him. "Get. In. Your. Bed." He growled in your face. His eyes demanded you take him to your room, so he could finish what you both started.

Oh but you, ever the defiant one. "You don't wanna take me here? on this couch?" You talk-back.

"You deserve to be properly bedded, even if you are a little brat." He pulls you in for another kiss. He nibbles on your lip and rubs your head, worried he may have hurt you the last time he tugged. You smile, pull off of him, and lead him to your bedroom.

The sounds of your footsteps fill your ears as you try to keep yourself together because fuck, he can't know how goddamn turned on you were at his words. Or rather, everything about him. Once Logan knew which room you were taking him in, he picked you up and threw you onto your own bed, earning a soft yelp from you.

Logan strokes his cock as he gazes over you, laying helplessly in the bed. "Look at you... so fuckin' pretty. I hope you don't have to work tomorrow..." he smirks, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"Why is that?" You say, raising your arms to cover your exposed breasts.

"Because..." He grabs your arms and pins them above your head. He leans in, where he's mere inches from your lips. "You won't be able to walk in the morning." He leans down and crashes his lips onto yours. You feel him grind against your core, still slick from his previous actions. You buck your hips as he grinds over your sensitive clit. "So sensitive.." He works his way down to your neck and bites down hard as he sheathes himself.

"Fuck! Fuck, Logan I didn't do anything what was that for?" You cry out. He chuckles and licks the spot he bit.

"You tried to hide your body from me... You broke rule 2." He purrs.

"You never said there was a second rule..." You whimper. Logan smirks.

"Didn't I?" He smirks, and thrusts harshly into you once more, pulling yet another loud moan from your lips.

"FUCK! Gods I fucking hate you... You cocky bastard..." You groan. Logan's smirk returns.

"Don't worry pretty girl, if you're good, I'll be gentle." He teases with a slow thrust.

"And what if I don't want you to be gentle?" You challenge.

"Mmmm that can be arranged. I can make a rule you'll keep breaking. Over and over and over." He pumps again, slowly.

"And what rule might that be?" You arch your body into him, gaining some more friction than he was currently giving.

"Rule 3. No cussing. Not for you, brat." He smiles, giving you a knowing look. You whimper at the new rule, knowing he's got you pinned.

"You don't fuckin mean that..." You whine.

Without hesitation, Logan takes one breast in his mouth and pinches the other between his fingers, earning a sharp cry from you. "Oh I assure you brat, I do." He smiles and licks the abused nipple. "Now, be a good girl and hold onto something."

Logan grips the backs of your thighs and raises your legs high in the air. He slides his hands down and grips your waist. He pistons into you mercilessly, and your moans fill the apartment.

He grunts. “So tight,” he praises. “Fucking perfect little cunt...” He pumps in and out of you harder, faster now, letting himself go.

Your hopeless little whines drive him further. "Fuck.. Logan..." You whimper. Logan raises his hand and slaps your face. Not too hard as to hurt you, but enough to register as punishment for breaking a rule.

He twitches inside you when you moan louder at the slap, and your walls flutter around him. His lips find yours again, biting, kissing you bruisingly. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, as it seems to have formed a more permanent 'O' shape as he fucks you relentlessly.

Your walls contract around him, squeezing him as he sinks deeper inside you, hitting exactly where you need him most. You’re so close, ready to come undone. “Fuck, L-logan,” you whine as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna—” He cuts you off with another slap. You whimper and he leans down to kiss your red cheek.

He feels you contract around him, and he growls. "Come on brat, cum for me. You can do it." You can feel his pace growing faster, his cock pushing deeper, stretching you out as he plunges into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, kissing your pulse point again. “So fucking beautiful.”

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his words. Your skin is on fire, and the friction is absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. Your pathetic little "uh uh uh's" meld into soft "fu- fu-fuck's" and Logan wraps his hand around your throat.

That move alone sends you careening over the ledge. You scream out his name as he grips the pressure points in your neck making you see stars. Your heavy pants turn to squeaks as you slowly come down from your high.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking sensitive.” His praises are muffled in your ears, the blood roaring over anything else. He slows his pace a bit, allowing you a moment to come down. He rubs your quivering legs, humming soft praises.

Liquid pooled from between your thighs. It took him a moment before he realized you came so hard, that you squirted all over him. He stared at the sight. Your cheeks flush red at the realization of what you have done.

“Did you just-“ Logan whispers, a soft smirk on his lips.

"I am so sorry... I-" Logan cut you off with a rough kiss.

"Don't you dare apologize." He stared into your eyes intently. A new gleam of excitement entered his features. "Think you could do it again?" He chuckled darkly.

“I didn’t know I could do it in the first place…” You whisper softly, trying to steady your breathing. Logan slams into you with that confession, burring his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck…” he growled. His chest swelled with pride at the admission. Knowing he was taking you further than you ever had been before was entirely too intoxicating for him. He bit down on your neck, pulling more pathetic little sounds from you. He lifted off of you just enough, so that he could shove your legs down, practically folding you in half.

He resumed his brutal pace, watching as you jiggle underneath him. He takes in every curve, every feature, every sound that escapes you, including the vulgar squelching coming from between the two of you.

He leans down and grabs the back of your neck, forcing you to look at the sight between you.

“You see that princess? See that pretty little mess you’ve made? Such a good girl…” he praises.

Your eyes lock at his impossibly large member penetrating you. Tears prick your eyes as he releases your neck, and guides his hand to your over stimulated bundle of nerves, stroking soft circles. You throw your head back, releasing louder, almost pained moans as he continues to push you.

“Come on baby, I know you can give me another…” He said between pants.

“I-it’s t-to muuuuuuch!” You cry.

“Shh baby I know you have another one in you… just let go for me. I’ve got you.” He lowers himself down again, silencing you with more sound swallowing kisses.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging your nails deep into his skin. He groans and bites your lip, dragging his tongue over the stinging sensation.

You drag your nails down his back, trying to ground yourself from this impossible high he’s got you on. You feel your white hot release coming, and with just a few more thrusts, he’s got you careening over the edge again.

Logan’s fist meets the wall with a loud *thump*. His release came on him so hard from the way you were scratching and sobbing for him, that not only did he cum hard, he punched the wall even harder.

He stills while still inside you, panting loudly. You can feel him twitching inside you, and you can’t help the disappointed whimper that escapes your lips as he slowly pulls out.

“Shh baby.” He leans down and kisses you gently. “Wait here.” You felt Logan get up. It’s not like you could see him. Stars clouded your vision from your most recent orgasm. You couldn’t hear much either honestly, and just as you think you heard him leave, he reenters your room with a warm rag and a glass of water. He places the water on your bedside table. He smiles at the mess on the bed, the mess you both made together. He gently crawls over you, placing gentle kisses up your leg as he softly wipes your swollen cunt. He smiles and hums as your hips buck, your core still entirely overstimulated. He places a soft kiss on your clit, and wipes the rest up.

He kisses your breasts, then your shoulder, and then your lips. If it weren’t for those kisses, you would’ve passed out right there, lulled to sleep by his gentle demeanor after being utterly obliterated.

He brings the cloth to your face, turning it over to make sure he was using a clean side.

“Are you alright?” He asks as he wipes away the tear trails from your cheeks.

“Mhmm…” you respond.

“Ah ah… use your words baby girl.” He strokes your forehead with his thumb.

“M-ok” you manage to mumble. “N-you can stay if- if you want.” Your small, dazed smile makes Logan laugh softly.

“Don’t worry about me, pretty girl. You need to rest.” He strokes your hair and moves some of it out of your face. He loved seeing how cock drunk you were, and the scent... he couldn't get enough of how your entire apartment reeked of sex.

You didn't need much convincing, because you quickly drifted to sleep. Logan smiled and looked up at the hole in your wall. He silently cursed to himself, already pissed he had done the same thing to your living room wall.

The next morning when you woke up, your apartment smelled like paint. You looked around to see you were alone, and your heart sank. You lift your head enough to see a small piece of paper next to the untouched glass of water from the night before. You slowly reach for the letter, eyes straining to focus on the scrawled handwriting.

*Good morning pretty girl. I'm sorry I had to go. I repaired the holes we made in your walls. Call me, if I missed a spot, or... if you wanna make some more. 111-111-1111 -Logan*

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆

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azzibueckers5 · 2 months ago

Text

chapter 3: i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song)

cross posted on ao3 here, and tumblr chapters 1 & 2 here

chapter 3: in which azzi worries for paige's nutrition levels and appreciates good countertops

content warning: explicit sex (wc: ~6k)

AN: suprise, surprise, these two wouldn't leave me alone. at the expense of my gpa. happy finals? ummm. this is entirely plotless. like completely. hopefully I managed to capture their dynamic shift the way I was intending? idk you guys tell me. I wanted to make sure they were still paige and azzi at the end of the day. ummm I'm not as proud of this as I was about the other two chapters but I can't tell if that's because it's actually not as good or if I just really like writing monologuey angst and hate writing dialogue/smut. uh. without further ado, six thousand words of pure nonsense!

the thing about being best friends for eight years and teammates for at least half of that time is that you see each other in various states of undress quite often. (especially when you’re an eensy weensy teeny tiny bit more than best friends and practically live inside each other’s skin.)

you would think this fact would have at least minimally prepared azzi for the whole getting-naked-to-have-sex thing. this is tragically not the case.

like. okay. azzi knows, objectively, that paige is a very attractive person. has noticed the cut of her abs, and how nice her hands are, and how biteable (yeah. she said it. biteable.) her jawline looks when she tilts her head. but the difference between thinking all those things and having paige actually underneath her, with miles of smooth skin to put her hands (and mouth. hopefully. if she can pick it back up off the ground, where it’s been for the last minute.) is entirely overwhelming.

she feels dizzy with all the things she wants to do, doesn’t even know where to begin. paige is looking entirely too smug, however, laid out underneath azzi in just sweat shorts and an old, thin calvin bra and smirking like she knows every thought buzzing around in her head, so azzi decides kissing her is a decent place to start.

(azzi called her a slut when she discovered that paige hadn’t worn a shirt underneath her sweatshirt. paige had simply said yeah, for you. and well. here they were, fifteen seconds later, azzi straddling her on the bed.)

this kiss is slower than their previous ones, less desperate, but it stokes the fire that’s been burning in azzi all the same, and it only burns hotter when paige’s hands slide up underneath her tank top to cup at her breasts.

evidently, paige gets tired of the material in her way after approximately 10 seconds and mumbles out “ off ,” tugging at azzi’s shirt.

she tugs it up over her head, but before she can busy herself with the skin below paige’s collarbone that’s been calling to her, she gets distracted by the look on paige’s face, like azzi just made a half court buzzer and not that she’s merely exposed her nipples.

“ azzi,” paige practically moans, looking dazed.

and then she blinks and all of a sudden she’s looking up at paige from underneath her, both arms pinned above her head with one of paige’s hands, the other dragging featherlight touches down to trace at azzi’s nipple, goosebumps erupting across her chest.

paige kisses her again before she has a chance to protest her inability to touch, and it distracts her decently for a few minutes, until paige begins trailing her mouth down to suck a bruise into azzi’s throat and her mouth is freed.

“ paige,” she whines, “wanna touch.” she wriggles her hands a bit, testing her grip. if azzi really wanted to, she could break free in seconds, and by paige’s eyebrow raise when she pulls her head up from azzi’s neck, she knows it too.

“can’t concentrate when your hands are on me, baby. you gonna be good f’me? ” and. okay. that’s. azzi feels herself throb.

she swallows back the whine that desperately wants to rip from her throat and lets out a “yeah,” voice high and breathy.

paige’s “ good,” is pressed into the skin of her collarbone, and then she trails lower, mouthing at one of azzi’s nipples.

she doesn’t think she’s ever been this turned on in her life and and paige has barely touched her yet. fuck’s sake.

paige releases her hands when her mouth moves south, migrating down azzi’s stomach and bringing the hand that was just pinning azzi’s up to thumb at her nipple, dragging her mouth across the smooth, dark skin of her abs. she takes her time tracing the ridges of muscle with her tongue and overall being a general tease, but azzi’s hand stay above her head, hips twitching whenever paige nips at her navel.

the blonde pauses her descent down azzi’s stomach when she gets to her waistband, looking up at her through half-lidded eyes.

“we don’t. we don’t have to have sex if this is all like. too much.” paige says, and despite how much effort it looks like it takes for her to say it, azzi knows with certainty that she means it, would roll off of azzi in an instant if asked and just bask in her presence.

the sincerity somehow makes her impossibly wetter.

she throws an arm across her face to try and mask how much the sentence affects her.

“paige- i swear to god if you don’t touch me ,” she muffles, through her forearm, and she can hear the smirk in paige’s reply.

“eager, are we?”

“ yes,” and she can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed because then paige makes an approving noise in the back of her throat and tugs off azzi’s sweats.

it is entirely impossible to feel self conscious with the laser focus of paige’s eyes on the wet patch of her panties, but azzi squirms anyway, suddenly almost entirely bare to the heaviness of paige’s gaze.

“ jesus, az.” she breathes, hands flying out to trace at the patch of moisture. her touch is feather light but azzi is already a livewire, and the brush of her fingers against her clit isn’t enough to do anything except make her keen quietly, desperately.

paige seems content to just look, which would be nice. if azzi wasn’t already soaked through and needy.

she decides getting paige out of her clothes is a good way to move this show along, so she reaches out to drag the older girl back up and strip her out of her shorts and bra to even the playing field a little bit. she tugs paige’s shorts off first, and then pauses, a slow grin spreading across her face.

“paige madison bueckers, are you wearing a matching set?” her grey, simple calvin underwear matches the faded fabric of her bra, and. azzi is so, so gone for her.

she grins, not even a little bit embarrassed, and says, proudly, “nothin’ wrong with bein’ an optimist, ma,” before crawling fully over azzi and bending to slot their lips together again.

paige planks above her with one arm next to azzi’s face, the other tracing lines down her abdomen, pausing when they get to her panties.

“can i?”

“ please,” is all azzi can muster, hips shifting in anticipation. her blood is simmering already, from paige’s kisses, but she needs more like she needs the air in her lungs to breathe.

paige smiles, tipping her head down to azzi’s shoulder to watch as her hand slips under the silk of azzi’s underwear and slides into the wetness she finds beneath.

they both moan at the contact, and azzi’s hips twitch again, begging for more.

and then paige's thumb is pressing on her clit and she sees stars , keening high in her throat. paige pulls her head up to watch azzi’s reactions, and slips a finger inside, gazing in awe as azzi arches her back up in a bow, drawn taught with need. she slides her finger out, before curling it right back in and repeating the motion, all the while rubbing at azzi’s clit, and azzi feels wetness slide out of her and drip onto paige’s hand.

and then paige adds a second finger and she goes from turned on to desperately close in a matter of seconds, moaning paige’s name and reaching up to grip at her blonde hair as her mouth returns to azzi’s chest.

she watches the veins on paige’s wrist move with the motion of her hand, and listens to the slick sound of her fingers moving in and out, and. fucking hell she’s going to come.

paige fingers curl particularly hard on one thrust, and she’s suddenly aware of the ring still on one of paige’s digits, now probably covered in azzi’s slick, and.

“paige, paige, m’gonna come, fuck.”

and then paige tears her hand away from azzi’s cunt, leaving her clenching around nothing, and she whines in despair, finger scrabbling at paige’s back.

“shhh, baby, wanna taste you that's all,” paige says, mouth already dipping lower to drag across azzi’s breast.

“ mean-” is all azzi can get out in response, still reeling from the taste of her high in such close reach.

“i’ll make it up to you,” paige promises, from her navel, and azzi knows she means to sound cocky but it comes out breathless instead, like she’s just as affected by this as azzi is.

azzi believes her.

paige traces the waistline of her panties with her tongue, before reaching up to tear them off and exposing azzi fully to her gaze. her hips twitch at the weight behind her stare, and her cunt throbs in anticipation as paige reaches out to drag a finger down through azzi’s soaked folds.

“ fuck,” azzi breathes , just as paige mumbles out a dazed “you’re so wet for me, hmm?”

azzi is going to combust. and then, paige drops a kiss to her clit, before attaching her mouth for real, and forget combustion. azzi has ascended to a higher plane.

paige takes her time with it, tracing her tongue up and down azzi’s folds, and she feels like she’s being lit on fire by her mouth, trying to wriggle her hips to get closer to the flame. she was so close just a minute ago, and she still is, but she needs more to get off, itching for a finger, more pressure on her clit, anything .

“paige, i need it” she whines, and she doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, exactly, just knows that paige can give it to her.

“you need more, baby?” she questions, words vibrating into azsi’s core.

she moans in affirmative, but before she can give a verbal agreement, there are two fingers back inside of her and all she can do is wail instead, surrendering to the pleasure that paige is pulling out of her.

and then all of a sudden paige goes from light strokes of her tongue and only minimal pressure on her opening to sucking on azzi’s clit, hard , and thrusting her fingers inside at the perfect angle, and azzi sees stars, thrashing a little bit in ecstasy.

her words are incoherent now, just a mush of paige’s name and various pleas, and lightning builds up again in her abdomen in no time, heat curling in her core.

and then paige nips, slightly, at her clit, timed perfectly with a curl of her fingers, and azzi shatters, entire body tensing up as she comes.

she feels paige flop down next to her, but the world is still buzzing, toes tingling, and she can only muster up the energy to squeeze their fingers together in thanks, vision still white.

she’s never come that hard in her life.

when her breathing returns to normal, and her body starts to feel less like she’s floating away on a different plane, she’s reminded of the feral part of her that wants to touch and pleasure the girl lying next to her, and she straddles paige, leaning down to kiss her and moaning at the taste of herself. she breaks the kiss for a second to finally drags paige’s bra off and fling it behind her, and then miles of unblemished skin are staring back at her, just begging for her mouth.

she bites at paige’s collarbone, before dipping down to take a nipple in her mouth, smiling a bit at the hitch in her breath. she explores a little more, leaving marks as she goes for good measure, and then she brings her fingers to the waistband of paige’s underwear, asking silent permission. paige nods, and azzi moves back up to kiss her for a bit as she traces her fingers through the pool of slick, dipping her fingers under the elastic and swallowing the quiet moans that paige releases.

paige is so, so wet, and azzi needs to put her mouth on her right now.

“can i eat you out?” she mumbles, pressing the words into paige’s skin.

paige’s hips twitch, and she moans, wantonly, before breathing out “ c’n do whatever you want, az.”

she doesn’t need more encouragement.

“‘ve never done this before, can you- can you tell me how to make it good?” she asks, voice shy.

paige just looks at her for a second, wild and turned on, before replying, voice hoarse, “s’you, azzi, it’s gonna be good.”

azzi rolls her eyes, because: unhelpful, but allows it for now anyways, and scooches down, mouth catching everywhere she can on her descent.

she tugs the offending material off, eyes catching on the meat of her thighs, and then situates herself between her long, endless legs, just looking for a second, admiring paige splayed out before her and exposed, just for azzi .

she’s not even trying to be a tease, but there’s just so many things she wants to do and she can’t keep her mouth on one place for too long, sucking a mark into the pale, unmarred skin of paige’s pelvis, and then one on her inner thigh for good measure, leaning back to admire her handiwork.

“azzi, baby, you’re killing me,” paige moans, sounding wrecked, and she hums before finally focusing on the patch of wetness at paige's core. she curls an arm under paige’s thigh and drapes it back across her hips to hold her steady, and then licks a tentative stripe up paige’s center, humming happily at the taste and intentionally sending vibrations into paige’s cunt

she blonde makes a high, needy sound azzi’s never heard before above her, and she doubles down at the encouragement, sucking at paige's clit into her mouth and humming again in warning when her hips try and lift up to grind against azzi’s tongue.

she looks up, and notices that paige’s eyes are closed, so she lifts her head briefly, requesting, “wan’ you to look at me, p,” and savors the way her blue eyes fly open, strangled sound escaping her mouth.

“ jesus christ,” she whines, when azzi’s mouth returns, and she mumbles out a string of curses when her tongue trails down to trace at paige’s hole, but doesn’t break eye contact.

a secret, possessive part of her mind relishes on the thought that paige has probably been fantasizing about some version of this moment for a long, long time. azzi is determined to live up to her dreams.

she drags her mouth back up to paige’s clit, and slides the hand not currently pinning paige’s hips down on the bed down to run her fingers against the wetness pooling at her opening, sliding her fingers back and forth.

“ please- azzi-” is all paige gets out, but it's enough, and azzi slides a finger in, sucking lazily at her above it. paige is so wet, and her walls clench down on azzi’s finger when she crooks it, and she knows she just came, but azzi may or may be getting off on this too. no one has to know.

she adds another when paige lets out a particularly delicious whine, and she feels drunk on the sounds coming out of paige’s mouth, of the taste of her cunt on her tongue. (she is definitely, definitely into women. one hundred percent confirmed.)

it only takes another minute of azzi’s mouth on her clit, fingers curling inside, before paige is coming with a cry, thighs clenching momentarily around azzi’s head. she keeps her fingers pumping slowly, working her through it, until paige whines in overstimulation and drags azzi’s head away with the hands that are still tangled in her hair.

she looks ruined, pupils blown and chest heaving, and azzi takes a second to kneel above and admire how pretty she looks like this, flushed and covered in marks.

“tha’ was nice,” is what paige decides to say first, still breathing hard, arm thrown across her face. idiot.

azzi hums, amused. “should do it again sometime.”

“i’d prolly be down.”

azzi just rolls her eyes and crawls up paige’s body to lie closer to her, tangling their legs together and curling up under her chin. “yeah, yeah. prolly. okay, champ.”

“you did not just call me champ.”

azzi presses her laugh into the nook between paige’s neck and shoulder, like she has a million times before, but now there’s sweat cooling on their skin and pleasure still buzzing through her veins, and she feels a new kind of comfort in her favorite place.

she smiles into the open skin in front of her, nipping at it lightly, and paige giggles- giggles - above her. she feels giddy with all the happiness radiating off the blonde, her own contentment settling into every crevice of her mind.

“you’re gonna be a problem f’me aren't you,” paige mumbles into her hair, affection ruining any chance at seeming annoyed.

azzi hums, dragging her fingertips through the hair at the base of the blonde’s neck and lets contented silence settle around them.

and then, because she can’t help it: “i made you finish faster.”

paige squaks and rolls them over, planting herself above azzi and looking like the picture of indignation.

she gloats again, “i’m just sayin’. i’ve never even gotten a girl off before and you only lasted, what, like, four min-”

paige cuts her off with a kiss, pressing the brunette back into the mattress and slidling a leg between azzi’s to nudge her between her thighs, right where she’s already wet and waiting again. she detaches their mouths for a second, mumbling out a “four minutes, i’ll show you four minutes ,” and starts mouthing kisses down the column of azzi’s throat.

…

round two (or is it three? she doesn’t really know how to keep track of when one starts and another begins) comes to a begrudging halt when azzi hears paige's stomach grumble, loudly, for the second time in under a minute. and then she thinks about how she hasn’t eaten since 11am, and it's probably getting on to be 7pm, and she makes an executive decision to extract herself from paige’s limbs and go find them something to eat.

both objectives prove to be difficult.

extracting herself, because paige has decided that now that she can touch azzi whenever and however she wants, she has to be touching azzi at all times, however she wants. she allows this until paige actively tries to stop her from putting on a shirt, claiming that she’s being unfair and latching onto azzi’s back to press kisses to her shoulder and making it impossible for her to pull the faded graphic tee she finds thrown on the desk chair over her head.

this results in some light making out against paige’s dresser until her stomach rumbles for the third time and azzi is reminded that they’ve both played a full 40 minutes of basketball and gone multiple rounds without sustenance, and despite paige’s insistence, azzi is not sufficient enough for dinner.

they compromise on clothing by each throwing on a pair of faded boxers that paige digs up, and azzi steals the calvin bra that paige had been wearing earlier, which delights paige, who in turn throws on the tank top azzi had been wearing.

she smacks paige on the shoulder when she nudges their socked feet together and drawls “thank god we didn’t take our socks off. was worried we was bein’ gay.”

ridiculous. she’s ridiculous.

her “you’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” lacks heat and is muffled into paige’s shoulder, because smacking her had turned into being pulled into a hug, just because.

“you sure you believe that?” is the response into her hair. azzi pinches her waist and ignores the subsequent yelp.

and something warm and fuzzy solidifies in her stomach at how easy this already is- the coexisting and the sharing clothes and the physical intimacy.

it’s not like she was worried that it would be awkward, that the sex would be bad, but the reassurance that she and paige are just as compatible as they’ve always been- even more so now that they are solidly on the same page- makes her feel like shitting rainbows or puppies or some equally as idiotic metaphor that is always used for people who are ridiculously happy.

she buries her grin in paige’s shoulder and just takes it in for a second.

but also. food.

finally dressed enough to brave the massive windows that line the kitchen, azzi pulls herself from paige’s embrace and goes to walk through the door, but is stopped by a hand on her hip.

“nah, nah, wait a second, baby. gotta give you the proper attire.”

paige disappears into her closet, and azzi is left standing in the doorway, confused, because paige had just been throwing an absolute fit about azzi hiding any more skin, before immediately groaning when paige returns wearing a large, wide brimmed brown cowboy hat and holding an equally as ridiculous looking tan one in her outstretched hands.

“i am not wearing that.” she crosses her arms in protest, mouth twitching to hide her grin.

“i told you. it’s mandatory here, az. this one’s my favorite.” she flips it, to show off the paige written across the side. “hat police are gonna getcha if you don’t. i’m just protecting you.”

“you just wanna see me in a hat that has your name on it,” is her response, but she lets paige place it on her tangle of curls anyway.

she still feels a little bit like she needs to be sent to an asylum, because hello, but as her and paige traipse down the hallway, bumping hips and hat brims every five seconds and laughing like it’s the funniest joke in the world, she figures paige will have to be sent there right along side her, and. well. that doesn’t sound half bad at all.

she leaves the other girl to the task of fishing their phones out from the various spots they were abandoned in the living room and wanders into the kitchen to evaluate the food situation.

and here comes the difficulty of her second objective, because paige has, like, nothing to eat. their mini fridge in storrs had more nutrients than the empty monstrosity that is paige’s stainless steel refrigerator.

“i don’t understand how you’re alive,” she states, when she hears paige’s feet on the hardwood floors returning back to the kitchen.

“ummm door dash. obviously,” is her response, as she places their phones on the counter and hooks her head on azzi’s shoulder. “think there’s chicken in there that hasn't expired, though.” their hats bang together, almost knocking them both off, and paige’s hands shoot immediately from azzi’s waist to the tops of their heads, fighting to keep them both balanced.

affection wells up so strongly in azzi at the stupid gesture that she just has to turn around and kiss her.

this does knock paige’s hat off, and it falls to the floor behind her, but it's fine because her hands have returned to azzi’s skin where they belong and her tongue is tracing azzi’s lower lip and actually. maybe this is enough sustenance.

she shivers, partly from the finger currently brushing her nipple through the thin cotton of her (paige’s) bra, and partly because she’s standing directly in front of the open fridge .

which beeps. loudly. because it’s been open for too long. and okay yes. food. they need food.

“gettin’ cockblocked by my own damn appliance is a low,” paige mumbles, when azzi pulls away to turn back around.

“we’re not having sex again until you can go more than five minutes without your stomach grumbling.”

“bro. you kissed me .”

her stomach rumbles.

at azzi’s pointed look over her shoulder, “yeah, yeah. lemme see if i have tortillas.”

paige hip checks her on her way to the pantry and the domesticity of it all has azzi grinning like a fucking lunatic as she pulls the ( barely non-expired) chicken and some cheese from the drawers and finally closes the doors.

there is nothing even remotely resembling a vegetable in paige’s kitchen, but azzi figures chicken quesadillas are as good as they’re gonna get for now and lets paige bumble around getting a skillet on the stove while she sits on the counter to supervise and check her texts.

she has 27 from the team group chat which she ignores in favor of the 3 waiting for her from aaliyah.

5:09 lili: bro where’d you go

5:21 lili: azzi fudd u little slut

6:48 lili: so im guessing ur not coming to team dinner

she giggles at her phone, and, just as it always used to be, summons paige in exactly four milliseconds, the blonde sidling up beside her to peer over her shoulder, never one to miss out.

she laughs, too, when she sees the texts, and snatches the phone from azzi’s hand when she nods at paige’s silent request. she backs up and takes a photo of azzi, sitting on the counter, cowboy hat askew and probably smiling at paige behind the camera like a freak.

paige shows her the photo before she sends it, and. jesus. azzi looks positively debauched, hair wild around her face under the hat, the paige on the brim front and center, and marks littering her neck. she’s looking at the camera like the sun is shining out of paige’s ass, and.

she looks so happy . and so utterly paige’s.

she doesn’t realize that paige sends the photo accompanied by she’s looking at her dinner until after.

“ paige,” she whines, when she sees, but paige is already reopening the camera and sending another photo, this time of herself, tongue sticking out and self satisfied smirk present across stupid, beautiful face, marks of her own visible on her collarbone.

they watch, in real time, as aaliyah sends back a string of nonsensical letters. and then, simultaneously, both their phones start buzzing incessantly. aaliyah has apparently decided that their old uconn group chat that had fallen out of disuse when the two of them stopped being able to interact needs immediate updating. snitch.

CD’s favorites +paige 😛✌️

lili: [2 screenshots of her texts with azzi]

lili: GUYSFHDSJKALFG

lili: WE PRAYED FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

kk: NO FUCKING SHOT

nika: RU SERIPUS

ice princess: YALL R BACK TG?????

they watch in amusement as more people begin to chime in, and even though some of them are under the impression that they’re back together, it doesn't matter. the responses get particularly funny when people start sending in tweets of clips of the two of them from the game.

caroline: should’ve known yall were back on ur bs

caroline: [link to a tweet with the caption oh they are soooo back tg above a video of their interaction in the first quarter: giggling at each other and touching for way longer than necessary under the pretense of azzi helping paige up. it has 5k likes.]

azzi sends a simple im never texting you anything ever again aaliyah.

kk: dont u have dinner to enjoy

paige, who has grabbed her phone while azzi was crafting her text, giggles at her own phone next to azzi.

paige: yes. she does.

paige: muting this gc now

paige: nosy freaks

and then, she plucks azzi’s phone from her hands, mutes the gc, and drops their phones down on the counter.

“not ready to share you. we can text them later.” she grins at azzi, and tries to slide between her legs, head coming in for a kiss.

azzi gives in to a chaste peck before pulling back. “dinner first. kissing after.”

paige groans, but obliges when azzi shoos her back to the stove, hopping off the counter after her to assist with the assembly.

as she digs around in the cabinets to find cooking spray, she prompts, “so. tell me how dallas has really been.”

the chat as they cook, filling each other in on the bigger things that have happened in the last year as they move seamlessly around the kitchen, like bob getting promoted and azzi getting a new car. and it’s a little bittersweet, at the reminder of the distance that’s grown between them, but azzi finds herself simply wanting to know more, share more. they can’t change the past, redo the last year and figure their shit out earlier, but she’s surprised to find herself beginning to be okay with that as long as she has paige now, and in the future.

the warm simplicity of it, the domesticity of moving around the kitchen in sync, makes azzi’s heart feel like it's about to burst out of her chest. and she knows she must be really gone because paige gently smacking her ass every time she passes by is somehow cute. lord help her.

“missed this,” she says quietly at one point, when paige comes to stand behind her at the stove to flip one of the quesadillas. it's the understatement of the century, but she knows paige will understand the thousands of meanings embedded into the two words.

“yeah,” she agrees, dropping a kiss to azzi’s shoulder. “me too.”

they decide to eat on the floor, backs against the kitchen cabinets, because it allows for them to be touching in multiple places, paige’s legs splayed out in front of them and azzi practically in her lap, balancing their shared plate on her knees. she ignores how ridiculous she feels at the fact that being able to be as close as possible to paige takes precedence over the convenience of sitting at an actual table.

her prefrontal cortex has been replaced by a picture of paige’s face. whatever.

as they scarf down their quesadillas, azzi hears one of their phones vibrating on the counter above them with a call. she reaches above her, fumbling around without looking to try and find it so she doesn’t have to stand up, and smiles triumphantly when her hand makes contact with the buzzing plastic.

of course it’s her mother.

paige grins, and swipes to answer it before azzi can protest.

katie’s opening line is “34 points! i’m so proud of you, honey!” and they can hear tim echoing his agreement in the background. azzi knows very well that this is a front and that the last thing she’s calling about right now is basketball, but she plays along.

“hey, mom, thank you,” she says, suspicious.

“any particular reason you were playing so well, anything to do with that phone call we had last week?”

and. ah yes. there it is, not even ten seconds into the call. paige looks like she just won the lottery, the bitch , shit-eating grin sliding across her face. azzi mouths don’t and tries to feign innocence. “nope, just. y’know, felt good today.”

tim’s voice adds on to the humiliation ritual that is azzi’s life, asking, “not showing off for anyone or anything?”.

“nope.” she says, popping the p and letting them sit in silence for a second.

she sees paige open her mouth in her peripheral and lunges to try and cover it but its too late, and paige’s cheerful “hi katie, hi tim!” is muffled through azzi’s hands.

paige is so, so dead. azzi is going to withhold kisses from her for like. at least 10 minutes.

her parents are immediately a chorus of smug hellos and laughter on the other end of the line. they all suck.

“so you guys finally figured your shit out, huh?” her mom asks, and what is happening? why is azzi being subjected to this?

“azzi’s fault,” paige claims, amidst the younger girl’s protests. “do you know how dumb your daughter is?” she continues, showing off for azzi’s parents like the absolute kiss up that she is. azzi mentally extends the no kissing time frame by another 10 minutes.

“well of course! that’s why you’re the favorite.” says her dad, laughing on the other end, and azzi groans into paige’s arm.

“ oh my god. i’m hanging up on you guys. we’ll call you tomorrow,” she whines, but the laughter only continues.

her parents and paige chat briefly, getting updates on their lives with azzi chiming in occasionally with commentary, and her mother begrudgingly lets them hang up after informing them she was going to call amy like the absolute gossip she was.

paige tries to kiss her in the silence following the dial tone, but azzi’s mental timer is still running and she’s not about to let paige start something on the floor of the kitchen, so she pushes paige up off the ground to start the dishes.

she decides to put on music while the blonde begins loading the dishwasher, and slides back onto the counter, grabbing paige’s phone so she can connect to the speakers she knows are hidden somewhere in the room (paige has too much money for her own good, but at least she has taste.)

“what’s your password?” she tosses at paige. it's weird having to ask, and it's a melancholy reminder of the last year, but then.

silence in response. she glances up, confused, and immediately laughs at paige’s caught expression.

“ oh my god. you love me so much,” she exclaims, typing in 3505, the same as it's been since that first summer session before azzi’s freshman year. “this is a new phone, too, i can tell.”

“yeah, yeah, okay. chill. changing it felt wrong.” her voice is bashful, almost embarrassed, and, well, that just won’t do.

she pulls the blonde over and traps her between the vee of hips by tangling her ankles behind paige’s back. her arms wrap around paige’s neck, and azzi takes in how beautiful she is, faint blush painting her cheeks. she knows there must be some lingering insecurity, god knows azzi would need centuries of reassurance to come back from the amount of time paige spent pining, and she tries to pick her words carefully to squash as much doubt as she can in one go.

“i’m sorry it took so long for me to figure out, but i am so, so in love with you. like a concerning amount.”

paige’s blush deepens, and azzi’s heart swells at how happy she looks, here in the dim light of her kitchen in azzi’s tank top.

“ sap.” paige tucks her grin into azzi’s shoulder, before pulling back to look at her. ��s’okay. we got here eventually.”

and, yeah. they did.

she leans in to kiss azzi, who meets her halfway, and then the open dishwasher and pan in the sink is forgotten in favor of paige’s mouth on her throat, her stomach, her thighs, her cunt.

she eats azzi out slowly, reverently, like she’s trying to memorize every sound she makes, every nerve ending, every shift of her hips. paige works her up in mere minutes, azzi’s back arching against the marble countertop and paige’s name tumbling from her lips. she keeps her there, on the edge for a second, just looking up at azzi, taking it in.

and it's nice, or whatever, that paige wants to savor the moment, but azzi wants to come. she doesn’t even know the words that are coming out of her mouth, begging for paige to do something, anything, babbling incoherent strings of baby and paige and please.

her fingers curl in paige’s hair and tug, and then paige is slipping two fingers into the heat of her and sucking her clit in her mouth and that’s all it takes for azzi to break, the world around them ceasing to exist.

paige pulls away, dazed, and azzi drags her back up for a kiss to taste herself, licking into paige’s mouth and humming in content. (azzi has her so pussy drunk that she doesn’t even make a dessert joke. life is so beautiful.)

but then paige frees her mouth from azzi and mumbles “just so you know, i’m winning. it’s 4-3,” sly grin spreading across her face. azzi is confused for all of three seconds before she shrieks and shoves paige off of her.

“are you counting orgasms?”

“i’m just saying -”

“oh my god. you’re keeping track of orgasms . paige madison-”

“you’re just annoyed ‘cause you’re losing, ma,” she shrugs, and pats azzi's thigh in mock consolidation. azzi loves her so much that she feels like she doesn’t know what to do with all of it.

she figures a good place to start is to drag paige down the hallway and back towards her bedroom to even the score. she’s never been very good at losing.

AN: hi hello i hope you enjoyed. as always please tell me if you did PLEASE I'm a slut for validation and it will probably make my month. im gonna say very definitively that this is the last chapter, but an angsty paige prequel is hitting my line so you might get that at some point too? idfk. if the smut was terrible I deeply apologize I've never actually written it before so please allow for some grace as I discover how many synonyms of the word vagina there are and how somehow NONE OF THEM sound the way I want them too. sorry for the tangent love you xoxo

#iwkpa #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #i hate tagging on here #pazzi smut #like that seems unnecessary but #idfk

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f1cflcfic · 26 days ago

Text

Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part xv

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons and/or events

bonus: one, two, three

July 7-8, 2025

[Excerpt: ATP and WTA Stars Take On "Nearest The Pin Golf" Challenge]

Y/N L/N steps up to the small green and then turns to the camera. "I just want to formally apologise to Lily in advance for messing this up."

The first few balls disappear into the water, but at least she's launching them in the right direction. Some of the other tennis players ironically struggle with even hitting the ball, or keep sending it far away from where it needs to land.

"Ugh, please tell me Casper didn't get this in one go," Y/N references one of the few tennis players that is pretty decent in golf. "I feel like it's almost impossible?"

Then she's asking if she can call a helpline. "It can't be a professional golfer, but it can be someone who thinks they are a professional golfer?" She grins slyly, then proceeds to call Carlos Sainz Jr.

"You know who is going to be so mad? Lando, for calling me instead of him," he can be heard saying in the background, before Y/N shows him the challenge. "I'll make it up to him, don't worry."

With another try, and some additional tips from Carlos, she manages to get the ball to bounce onto the lonely island with the pin on it. "I guess that's the best I'll do. Did I win? What did I win? Eternal glory? I'll take it!"

July 9-11, 2025

[Excerpt: Post-Semi Final Press Conference]

"ESPN here. Of course it's never fun to lose, but is there a part of you that feels relieved perhaps, knowing you can now fully focus on your individual tournaments?"

Jack shifts forward. "I mean there was only one other match to go. I'd have been more than happy to make that sacrifice and see if I could win two titles, instead of just the one."

Y/N nods along. "If we hadn't wanted to take this all the way, we wouldn't have committed to the tournament altogether."

"Hi, I'm with SkySports. Jack, you'll be facing Carlos Alcaraz next in your individual semi-final. Considering Y/N's history with Alcaraz, have you asked her for any tips on how to best handle him?"

There's some huffing in the room, and Jack seems to be slightly lost for words. "I - uh, no. I have not asked her for advice."

"And who will you be rooting for, Y/N?" The interviewer continues, making Y/N all but roll her eyes. "I think you know the answer to that, seems pretty obvious to me. But I'm mostly rooting for us to get better questions."

Another interviewer waves their hand. "Hi, I'm with Tennis News. Y/N, you could be just one step closer to your Season Slam if you manage to win this week. How do you switch between this loss and the next potential victory?"

Y/N smiles at that. "Well, I credit my team for it and my family and friends, first of all. But also, if you really want to be a champion - you have to learn how to take the losses. I think in this sport, but also probably in others, that to be a true professional athlete, it means you need to become good at losing. You can't be precious about them, or too superstitious or anything. Because you'll lose so much more than you'll win across your entire career. So if I couldn't deal with losing, I wouldn't be able to fight for the wins. Or at least, that's what I try to tell myself. I'm not always successful at it, but so far I haven't smashed a racket here," she jokes. "Thanks for the lovely question. More of that please."

A/N: pleased to share i have now caught up with the race weekend and have seen the video of lando walking into a wall, and it will 100% make an appearance in this fic at one point 🙃 next chapter features Lando at the Wimbledon final (obvi) and the aftermath or perhaps afterglow?? who knows?? :) :)

Next part is available here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @sarah-thatstings-ann @jessicanotta @fairyjinn @destinyg237 @verogonewild @annimausi @taetae-armyyyyy

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pomefioredove · 1 year ago

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hello dovee! I saw the "I'd look good on you." and immediately thought of vil! if I could please request for that? THANK YOU SO MUCH🍰stay creative!

thank you everyone for feeding me vil requests. I got a little crazy with this one

summary: "I'd look good on you." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive a part of this event

"No, no, no, no. Wrong, dreadful,"

You dodge another designer handbag as it goes flying across Vil's room, joining the growing pile of clothes behind you.

"Why is this so difficult?" he groans, storming out of his closet. "I have not a SINGLE decent thing to wear for this interview."

You look over your shoulder, watching him as he begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess he'd made.

"I think you're stressed,"

Vil pauses midway through sliding a silken shirt back on its hanger to glare at you.

"Another excellent observation," he says dryly. Then, a sigh.

"Sorry. I've been wanting to work with this director for years... I don't care for this role, but if the film does well, he'll likely want to work with me again... How's this?"

He holds up a glittery purple dress in front of him. You blink.

"...Good,"

"Ugh," he scoffs, tossing it aside. You don't know how many more times you can tell him he looks good in everything before he kicks you out.

"What is the role, anyway?"

Vil rolls his eyes, catching onto your attempt to distract him. He indulges, anyway.

"Another villain, although this film is more of a..." he pauses, gesturing vaguely. You stare. "...A young adult movie."

"So it's bait for teenage girls?"

"...Essentially,"

He sighs again, cleaning up the last of his temper tantrum and sorting it in his massive closet.

"Thus my role is more... provocative, we'll say. Which is fine, if not for the fact that I feel I did horribly,"

"I'm sure you didn't,"

"I'll be a laughing stock, this director will never work with me again, and I'll become one of those pathetic, washed up former child stars by age twenty-one,"

That feels... a tad overdramatic, but you don't mention it.

"That's not going to happen," you insist. "I'm sure you make a great... provocative... villain!"

Vil sighs, returning to the bedside to sit with you. For a brief moment, you can feel him staring, but you say nothing of it.

"You haven't even seen it," he mumbles, finally looking away. "I only have half an hour... I feel completely unassured."

You can't help but feel pity. Before knowing Vil, you had stupidly assumed that most celebrities are confident by nature, exuding grace and certainty.

Now...

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Vil quiets, seeming to consider the offer. "...May I use a line on you?"

You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but it can't be anything too painful. He only has half an hour, after all.

You nod.

Vil smiles, then turns away. He takes a deep breath... you've seen this before. He's getting into character.

It's very effective.

When he turns back, his expression is completely different. And his body language. Even his very presence has shifted.

You've seen this before, you remind yourself. The dangerous, menacing facade that he's known for, that makes his roles so iconic...

But he's also smiling, his eyes lowered, a pleasantly amused look about him.

His hand finds its way to the bed on your other side, effectively caging you between his arms. And then he moves in, guiding you down onto the mattress and leaning over your body.

This is your friend. You're just helping him. There's nothing to be nervous about.

Despite what you tell yourself, you can feel the effect he's having on you.

He can tell, too.

Vil tuts, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Scared?" he asks. His voice is gentle, though there's a lingering danger behind it.

"Poor thing... I won't bite,"

He leans closer, his other hand intertwining with yours and keeping it pinned to the mattress, hot breath pressing against your ear.

"I'd look good on you," he whispers.

You know you shouldn't interrupt him, but you can't stop the nervous, flustered whine that comes out of your throat.

Vil breaks character, beaming, and gets off of you.

"Oh, my..." he grins, studying your expression. "You were right. I was worried over nothing."

He stands, smoothing out his clothes, and strides towards the closet to change, leaving you flustered senseless on the bed until he returns.

"How do I look?" he asks.

Of course, perfect. He always looks perfect. And now that he's confident again, gorgeous.

He smirks. "I'll take your silence as a compliment, potato. Thank you for the boost... I'll be back to pick up where we left off in a few hours,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #queued

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bigskydreaming · 4 months ago

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Okay replacing my pinned post. Its not official yet but I've had enough jobs in my life to do a decent job gauging the difference between a "we'll be in touch" that means LOL you will never talk to us again and one that actually means yeah you probably got the job. So! That makes working laptop, check, renewed IDs, (mostly done), HOPEFULLY new job, check.....so here's hoping! Next up, just working on getting my quarterly medication refill appointment, that's the pricey one, so I can finally get new meds again, so as always, my ko-fi and paypal are here and here, because even a few extra bucks helps me inch closer and I really want to be back on meds before I start a new job if possible. Other than that though, I'm better off than I have been in a good while and I have working graphics programs again so can do some cover art/photomanipped fanart commissions again (no AI generated images or elements in anything I do, ever).

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intimidating-fettuccine · 6 months ago

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Hii, I hope you're doing well!! This is my first time requesting so I was REALLY nervous :")) I saw some posts about Y/N accidentally calling some of the creeps their "husband", and I was wondering if you could do one with Jeff? I'm really curious of how it would be like with him and I really like him ^^

Listen. Listen. This man has been wormed into my brain for the longest time and my softness for him came out today, and this became like twice as long as I originally meant to to be, because I love him. I honestly ended up wanting it to be longer, but this took me way too long to write, so I cut it short. I hope you enjoy <3

While Jeff would never, ever admit it to anyone, he has spent hours thinking about what it would be like to be married to you. To be married to you, live with you, be able to wake up to you every single day, for everyone around the two of you to fully know you belong to each other. The unfortunate downside to that fact is that Jeff doesn't think he deserves it. He doesn't believe he deserves to be so happily married to you with all of the horrible things he's done, with all the horrible trauma he regularly has to deal with and make you put up with (despite you routinely telling him it doesn't bother you at all and you love him all the same, flaws and all). He thinks you're just far too good for him, and so the bitter, depressed part of his brain constantly tells him that'll never happen.

So, needless to say, Jeff is about to get his shit rocked mentally. The two of you were out and about, and you'd bumped into an old friend (i.e., someone important in Jeff's eyes), and introduced them to Jeff. Jeff, in his attempt to seem like a decent person under the watchful eyes of someone you have known for such a long time, does pull himself off pretty well, at least until you accidentally slip up and refer to Jeff as your husband. He feels like you've just punched him straight in the gut. He can't breathe, his heart is hammering in his chest, and he feels like he's gonna vomit, but he carries on with a passive smile, hiding all of his inner turmoil, keeping it locked inside until the two of you can get away from all of the prying eyes in this public space. The entire way home he still feels like he's gonna be sick, trying everything he can just to keep it together. The second you're through your front door he's wheeling around and pinning you to it, arms beside your head as his chest heaves, eyes slicked with a mixture of tears, confusion, and desperation. You can't tell what's wrong with him, and he can't tell why he's reacting so strongly, his mind foggy amidst his air-deprived anxiety attack. The two of you stand there, your hands comfortingly cupping his face while you coach him to breathe, to calm down.

By the time he's caught his breath, he's leaning on you, his body weighing against you as you rest against the door behind you. His arms are tight around your waist as his face nuzzles against your neck, and you're overcome with intense worry, unaware of what got him like this in the first place. "Did you mean it...?" His voice eventually trails off, and the emotion in his voice is untraceable, his trauma brain overtaking as your words replay in his mind over and over again. Your brows knit together as you try to figure out just what it is he's referring to, and he answers the question for you, saying he meant when you referred to him as your husband. He looks absolutely broken in your arms, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind as you finally realize why. You've heard it, the things he says to Liu, or BEN, his words about how he doesn't deserve you, how you deserve to marry someone better than him, soon followed by their chastising words about how that's not true, and suddenly his worrisome behavior from the last few hours that you've picked up on (because you always notice these things) suddenly makes sense.

You reassure him that of course you meant it, why wouldn't you? Jeff feels like he's being chastised once more, his cheeks puffed out in a pout as he avoids looking at you as you lecture him about how you'd love to marry him one day, and how he absolutely deserves to have you, how you're not too good for him, a lecture you should have given him long ago. He ignores the tears streaming down his face once more, ignores the thudding of his own heart in his chest, ignores the dying voice of denial in the back of his mind, but what he can't ignore is your lips slotting so perfectly against his own, or your fingers stroking along his scars in the way that always makes him fall apart. He's still not completely sure he deserves you, but goddamnit, with the way you're looking at him right now, he's sure as hell not gonna let anyone else marry you and take you away from him. Not with how tenderly you're holding him, how gently you're pressing your lips across his scorched skin, not with how lovingly you're gazing at him, as if he's the most beloved person in your life, because of course he is to you, just as you are to him. 'Husband' ends up becoming one of your favorite nicknames for him following that day, a nickname that always has his skin flushing red and his eyes softening in a way they only do for you. A nickname for now, and a title not too far into the future that he wears with pride.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanon #jeff the killer x reader

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ilovetheriddler · 8 months ago

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Requesting a Bigby Wolf + fem reader in the corn maze smut for your Halloween fic post pretty pls 🫶✨

This is my first time writing a bigby fic! Yay! I hope that you enjoy it!

Halloween Fic Event.

Howling in the Corn Maze.

(Bigby Wolf x F!Reader.)

Contents: NSFW 18+ 🔞🔞🔞 rough sex, neck biting.

Bigby took a deep inhale from his cigarette as he watched you as you attempted to find a way out of the corn maze that you insisted that you go to. You thought it would be fun... it was not fun, and now you were both kind of lost.

"So... do you still think this was a good idea, sweetheart?"

"...No, but how was I supposed to know that the stupid maze was going to be so confusing?!"

It was already getting late, and there seemed to be no end in sight, just rows and rows of endless corn! As you glanced up at the sky, you noticed the moon had started to rise for the evening. It was a full moon, and suddenly you felt a little... concerned. You had never really asked your boyfriend how much the full moon affected him, if it did at all, and you found yourself hoping that it didn't.

"Hey, um... Bigby?"

"Hmm?"

"... How much... does the full moon affect you exactly...?"

He paused for a moment, thinking about it for a bit before letting out a sigh.

"I'm going to be entirely honest with you, sweetheart, certain... urges usually get a lot stronger.."

"Certain urges? Like what?"

".....I'm going to be blunt. What i mean is my sex drive increases considerably... and well... I'm a bit worried about you being near me like that because I don't want to be too rough on you..."

"Oh....."

You felt your face get incredibly flustered at his words. Yes, you'd had sex with Bigby several times before. You'd been dating for a few months now, after all, but this did make him always refusing to let you stay at his apartment during previous full moons make a lot more sense.... but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't interested in seeing how he was when he was worked up like that...

"Um, well.... I'm not really worried about that... i mean, how rough could you possibly be?"

".....Darling, that's an incredibly dangerous thing to say to me while I'm like this...."

Something about his tone of voice in that moment nearly made your heart stop, damn... maybe being near him during a full moon wouldn't be so bad? You watched as the sunlight finally fully faded, being replaced by the light of the full moon. You jolted slightly as you heard a deep and low growling sound coming from behind you. You didn't even have a chance to turn and look at him before you were being pinned to the ground.

You were a bit startled at first. You didn't mind bigby being a bit more forceful and rough with you. It just simply caught you by surprise. You let out a somewhat embarrassed squeal as the sound of ripping fabric reached your ears, both your dress and underwear being torn off faster than you thought possible.

He moved you slightly, pushing you to rest on your hands and knees facing away from him. He ran his hand down your back, his now decently sharper claws almost drawing blood as you winced. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth leaving harsh and slightly painful hickeys in their wake.

You hadn't even realized that he had undone his pants until he without warning thrusted his cock inside of you, causing a mixture between an embarrassingly loud whine and moan to leave your lips.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart? Do you like being stuffed full of me?"

You could only manage a nod as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly with a rough and uneven pace, sinking his claws into your hips as he held you in place.

You were incredibly overwhelmed in both a mixture of slight pain and a lot of pleasure to the point where you were a bit worried you might pass out. In all honesty you couldn't really complain about the idea of being fucked by a Wolfman in a corn maze all night long.

#halloween fic event #the wolf among us #bigby wolf #bigby wolf x reader #x reader #fanfic

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redrose10 · 4 months ago

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Cat Cafe Owner Yoongi x Female Reader

Summary: With only a few dollars left to your name you weren’t sure how you were going to survive. Thankfully, Suga’s Cat Cafe came to the rescue offering you a job when you needed it most. Not only did it pay decently it also came with perks like unlimited free coffee and a cute, but grumpy cafe owner named Yoongi. At first you believed it was him that saved you at your worst, but as time went on you started to wonder…who rescued who?

Warnings: Mentions of depression, suicide, anxiety, lots of angst, injury, getting drunk, talking about consent and being taken advantage of in a sexual way, tiny bit of smut (maybe), will update more later

Word Count for Part 1: 5,712

Small change of plans because after thinking it over I’ve decided to split this into two parts. With everything going on with my parents and my job search and everything it would take me a while to be able to post the whole finished thing. So here is part 1 and I’ll be working on part 2 over the next week or two.

Hope everyone likes it! Let me know your thoughts! I may not always reply, but I do read all of them.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Nervously you fidgeted with your fingers as you stood off to the side trying to stay out of the way of the other staff members running around. Some guy at the front counter, his name tag said Namjoon, told you to enter into the small break room and the manger would be with you shortly.

Today was your first day on the job at Suga’s Cat Cafe. Your official title was Cat Enthusiast, but at the end of the day it was just a fancy way of saying customer service/cleaner of cat messes. It was by no means your dream job, but it paid decently as far as cafe jobs went and came with unlimited free coffee, both things you desperately needed as you were down to your last few dollars.

Life had been throwing nonstop punches lately. You were suddenly been let go from your dream job in the fashion industry and then a few days later you came home to find your fiancé cheating on you with one of your best friends. It left you hurt, and angry, but it was especially concerning that you were now also broke and homeless. Thankfully a different friend managed to help you find a tiny apartment, but bills were piling up and your first months rent was due soon and you were panicking. You were about to give up on life when you got the call that the job at the cafe was yours.

Finally after what felt like forever the door swung open and a man walked in. His light pink hair definitely stood out, but somehow looked almost natural on him. The cat shaped name tag pinned to his shirt read Jimin. “Sorry I’m late Y/N.”, he sighed., “Things are just crazy lately.”

You took the two tshirts and your own cat shaped name tag out of his hands along with a set of keys on a purple lanyard.

“The shirts are part of the uniform. You get two free, but we can order you more for a small cost if you’d like. Pants are your choice just make sure you look presentable and wear comfy shoes! Trust me! Since you’ll be working the closing shift you have keys to lock up the cafe. There is also a register key for emergencies. And this key opens up the supply closets. Please please please.”, he begged, “Please do not loose the keys. Yoongi will have my head if he has to have more made.”

You nodded, “Noted. Guard the keys with my life.” Jimin laughed giving you the first look at his heart warming smile.

“Come on! Get changed and then I’ll give you a quick a tour of the place.”, he said.

He left the room closing the door behind him giving you the chance to put on one of the tshirts in the bathroom and then place the rest of your belongings into one of the employee lockers.

When you exited the break room he was on the phone with someone talking about ordering a new set of mugs and something about Suga needing his fur thoroughly brushed.

“Yes I know. I will brush his fur with one hundred strokes and not one less.”, Jimin rolled his eyes, “Alright I have to go. I’m training the new girl.”

He started leading you down the hallway, “Sorry that was the owner. He’s supposed to be on vacation, but I swear he works harder when he’s not here than when he is.”

“He sounds tough to work for.”, you winced and suddenly your easy job taking care of cats wasn’t sounding so great after all.

“He’s really not.”, Jimin reassured you, “Yoongi’s just…he’s been through a lot, doesn’t really like people…prefers cats. It takes a while for him to trust others and open up to them, but once he does he is the sweetest sweetheart you’ll ever meet.“

He walked you through the long hallway opening random doors mostly leading to storage rooms or broom closets. “This is our meet and greet room.”, he said opening up the last door on the left, “If anyone is interested in adopting one of our cats and would like some alone time with them they can have a meeting with the cat back in here.”

Then he turned to the door on the right, “And this one leads up to Yoongi’s office/apartment so don’t go up there unless you absolutely need to…I mean like the place is on fire need to. Yoongi does not like others in his home.”

Then he walked you back up front to the small kitchen area. He pointed out the different cups and showed you how to work the machines, “Luckily most people are just here for the cats so they don’t really care much about the drinks.”, he chuckled, “The coffees are pretty basic. We’re not like a specialty coffee shop or anything. We have hot or iced. The coffee beans are just something Yoongi orders from Costco and we grind here. We have your basics like sugar, cream, whole milk, oat milk and we have different syrup flavors. Currently we have mocha, vanilla, caramel, and hazelnut and then we usually have a seasonal flavor like in the fall we have pumpkin spice and the winter we add peppermint to the rotation. There are also a few selections of hot tea as well as bottles of iced tea and water. All of the bakery is purchased already made from Jin’s Bakery a few blocks over.”, he exhaled, “So uh yeah it’s all pretty simple. You’ll pick it up in no time! Any questions?”

He made it seem so easy, but you were definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Everyone always seems a little worried at first. We have a great team that will be ready to help any time. You’ll mostly be working with Jungkook…speaking of which.”, Jimin put his hands on his hips and sighed while looking around the room, “This kid. He’s lucky Yoongi has such a soft spot for him.” You had no idea who he was talking about until you followed his line of sight as he shook head head at a younger man walking through the door, large backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Kook! You’re late again!”, he shouted.

“Sorry sorry I’m so sorry.”, the man gasped running up to you both, “I got out of class late and then I missed the bus. I took the next one, but it broke down half way here and I had to run the rest of the way.”

“You know that expensive little box you carry around in your packet 24/7? Well you can use it to text other people besides women.”, Jimin said while side eyeing him.

“I know I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Jimin gave up after that and instead introduced you, “Y/N this is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N. You two are going to be working the closing shifts together.”

You smiled and nodded while he did the same.

“I need to go make a few calls so Jungkook will introduce you to all of the cats and show you where their food is and how that’s all handled since it’s about dinner time anyways.”, Jimin ordered before leaving you with a wave and walking into the office.

Jungkook was really nice, quite sweet, and very handsome. You gladly followed him around smiling as he introduced you to each one of the cats and told you a little about them. It was clear he loved his job.

“This one is named Princess because she’s the prettiest princess in the city. Her favorite treats are salmon flavored and she loves getting her fur brushed, but only with the purple brush. Don’t even think about using the green one. She will revolt.

And this one, his named is Minnie. He acts tough like he hates you, but deep down he’s the fluffiest little guy there is.

And here we have Koya. He likes going on long walks and having his belly rubbed while you read to him.

Bunny is the diva of the group. She knows what she wants and doesn’t care who she has to destroy to get it.

Hope is the cuddle bug. She will take any cuddles that she can get. She definitely has no sense of stranger danger…we’re working on it.

Winter Bear is a sassy pants…that’s… that’s all I have to say about him.

RJ is a grumpy old man, but don’t tell him that. He’ll get even grumpier and then he takes it out on Bunny and then they end up not speaking to each other and it’s just a whole ordeal.

And this one is Suga. He’s the only cat that isn’t up for adoption because he’s Yoongi’s pet cat so he pretty much runs the show.”

You cooed as you bent down to pet the black cat who was purring loudly against your hand.

“Wow.”, Jungkook laughed in surprise, “I worked here for like six months before he even let me touch him and I’m pretty sure he still wants to bite my hand off. He must really like you.”

You felt a sense of warmth fill you knowing that the cat tolerated you better than anyone else already. It was kind of like getting along with your coworker in a weird way.

Dinner time was like something you had never experienced before. Yoongi was apparently extremely particular about making sure that the cats were very well taken care of which you appreciated that he cared so much and that this wasn’t just a business to him, but at the same time you also hated that you were meticulously weighing out the exact recommended portion of a horrible smelling can of seafood delight for each cat except Princess who of course had a menu of her own. Then you were adding a couple drops of this vitamin and a few sprinkles of another. By the time you were done setting all of the bowls up it felt like you had just completed a science experiment.

The rest of your shift was spent cleaning and wiping and sweeping and cleaning some more. Who knew cats could be so messy so much of the time?

You took a few orders and made a few drinks with the help of Jungkook, but it seemed like he was happier doing the customer service portion anyways which you didn’t mind. You liked dealing with cats more than people to be honest.

Over a few weeks you started getting a routine down at the cafe. You got closer with the cats and also Jungkook. The two of you even put together a little goodbye party when Koya got adopted. Jimin checked in often and made sure you were acclimating well. You also met your other coworkers, Namjoon, Hobi, and Taehyung. They were all very friendly and welcoming. You really felt like things were starting to turn around and that you were finally going in the right direction after it seemed like everything had been falling apart for so long.

Until one dreary rainy night it didn’t seem like that any more. You had closed up the cafe and were just about home when you realized you had left your phone charging on the table in the break room. Part of you considered just leaving it there and getting it the next day, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to go all night without it. You also knew that Taehyung was a man of many pranks and you needed to make sure he didn’t get your phone into his possession. So reluctantly you turned around and made the walk back to the cafe.

Since it was so late and you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself, meaning you didn’t need a gaggle of cats screaming at you for their third dinner, you kept the light off and tiptoed as quietly as possible to the break room to retrieve your phone.

Once that mission was accomplished you quietly tiptoed back down the hallway to the front door. With your face buried in your social medias catching up on your missed notifications you weren’t aware of your surroundings until you walked headfirst into another person.

You jumped back in shock. The other person yelped in surprise since their own face was buried deep into a folder of paperwork that was now scattered everywhere as they were also unaware of your presence.

“I am so sorry.”, you apologized bending down to help clean up the papers.

“No no no just leave it please.”, he hissed at you, “Who are you and how did get in here?”, he questioned angrily as he scooped up the mess.

“Y/N, I uh I work here. I’m part of the closing shift.”

“Okay? And the cafe closed two hours ago. Why are you still here?”

You were starting to get a little scared, “I-I got home and realized I forgot my phone in the break room so I came back to get it.”

“And you didn’t think to call or text someone?”, he sneered.

“Well my uh my phone was here so I couldn’t.”, you mumbled trying to keep your cool.

“Ever heard of a pay phone?”

“It’s 2025…I don’t…I don’t even know if there are pay phones any more.”, you said. You could feel your anger rising at the rudeness of this guy when you noticed a black ball of fur rubbing against his legs, a loud purr rumbling from within Suga’s chest.

“Yoongi?”, you asked.

“Yeah….”, he replied running a hand through his already messy hair, “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Y/N was it?” You nodded and took his extended hand into a handshake.

“That was very unprofessional of me. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment and you scared me quite a bit.”, he continued, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here this late at night.”

“It’s okay.”, you shook your head, “I shouldn’t have just entered back into the building after hours without notifying a manager or something.”

Awkwardly you stood there internally praying you were still going to be employed after this. Then you made an observation of the shirt he was wearing and decided to try and pull the conversation in your favor. “Oh you like Halsey?!”, you exclaimed, “Did you go to the concert a few months ago? I really really wanted to, but ticket prices were insane.” When you noticed he hadn’t responded and was organizing the papers in his hands instead you apologized once more and excused yourself to the front door feeling the embarrassment overwhelm you. “Have a good night Yoongi!”, you cheerily said still trying to stay on his good side. You bent down to give Suga a few pats too, “Good night to you too. Go get some sleep so you’re not a grumpy butt tomorrow.”

The rain and wind had really picked up even more than earlier which you were not excited about because you should already be home and comfy and warm in your bed. But you had no choice so you pulled up the hood of your jacket and zipped up when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. Yoongi was standing there texting away on his phone, “Let me order a ride for you, an Uber or something. It’s the least I can do after treating you like that.”

“On no it’s okay.”, you smiled, “I really don’t mind walking.”

He insisted though so you sat in the corner of the cafe patiently waiting for the driver to arrive. Yoongi had long returned back to his apartment upstairs leaving you to sit alone and ponder the nights events.

When you got to work the next day you couldn’t help but notice the way Jimin kept smiling in your direction. And it wasn’t his normal friendly sometimes flirty smile that he used with everyone. It was borderline mischievous.

“Anything…uh interesting happen last night?”, he playfully asked as you helped him fold the never ending pile of towels and blankets.

You shook your head, “Nope. Why do you ask?”

“Oh I don’t know. Just making polite conversation I suppose.”

The two of you returned to silence as you continued on with the laundry.

Unexpectedly he spoke up and said, “Listen to any new Halsey songs lately?” Your movements froze, “I mean…doesn’t everyone? Why, what did you hear?” He shrugged his shoulders before running off to handle a customer issue up front.

While Jimin seemed to know something you didn’t, nothing much changed with Yoongi. You did see him down in the cafe more often during the evenings than you had before. He would be going through some paperwork or double checking the inventory counts, nothing too out of the ordinary for someone that owned the place. He was never particularly friendly even though you tried to get him to open up a little. Unfortunately you never got much back in return.

“Hey did you catch that game last night? That last second shot was crazy.”

“Yeah it was cool.”

“You see the new Billboard Hot 100 list? I have to say that I disagree but what’s your opinion?”

“Never looked it up.”

“There’s a really good bbq place a few blocks away. Maybe we could check it out some time. You know…to cater a work lunch or something.”

“Mmhm maybe”.

It seemed like no matter how hard you tried he was just unwilling to really make any effort. Slowly you backed off, but you weren’t going to completely give up yet.

“I made brownies!”, you exclaimed setting the plate down on the table in the break room, “And I decorated them to look like cats!”

“Thanks.”, Yoongi muttered before walking out of the room without even trying them or looking up from the clipboard he was writing on.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”, Jungkook mumbled inbetween mouthfuls of a brownie, “The last thing Yoongi is interested in is a relationship. Unless you’re a cat…he won’t even notice you exist.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you said faking innocence.

“Come on Y/N.”, he scoffed before taking another brownie, “Everyone can see it. You get to work early all the time. You drag your feet at night trying to stay late hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Always bringing snacks and food. Trying to make conversation about things he likes even if you don’t…like sports. You like him. Some might even say you have a crush on him.”

You rolled your eyes doing your best to ignore what he was saying and not show that it was striking a nerve with you.

“Look.”, he said standing up, “I’ve worked here for a couple of years. I know Yoongi and I know how he is with people and you’re wasting your time. I’m just telling you this as your co-worker and friend so that you don’t end up getting hurt in the end.”

His words stuck with you through the rest of your shift and even for the next few ones as well. He seemed pretty serious about it and you started to wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe it was pointless and you should let it go because you had made zero progress with Yoongi.

But then one evening Yoongi came up to you gently cradling a beautiful kitten against his chest who he introduced as the newest addition to the cafe crew. Excitedly he held up the little tabby cat and proudly announced her name as Halsey. You looked on and smiled as he snuggled against her fur. That was the moment you needed to give you just a little bit of hope and increase your motivation to not give up just yet.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you experienced the first odd happening with Yoongi. It was late in the night on your day off when you received a text from him begging you to work a double shift the next day. Something about Jimin eating questionable sushi and being unable to make it to work and he asked everyone else and they’re all busy and you were his last chance. It wasn’t something you really wanted to do because there was a reason you applied for the evening shift after all because you hated mornings. But you could really use the money right now and when he sent another text begging even more you felt bad and against your better judgement you agreed.

So the following morning you arrived at the cafe at the crack of dawn. Yoongi was already entering something in on the computer. You mumbled a good morning and beelined it for the coffee machines, once again thankful for the free coffee perk.

“How do you like yours?”, you asked when he walked up beside you.

“Black.”

“Eww that’s no fun.”

“It’s coffee. What is supposed to be fun about it? I drink it for the caffeine rush.”

“Alrighty then.”, you sighed not in the mood for a discussion. Yoongi stood off the side making a disgusted face as he watched you added a few pumps of vanilla and a few hazelnut and then a couple scoops of sugar for good measure. “Do you want any coffee with your sugar?”, he questioned.

You sipped on the coffee feeling the life come back into your body instantly so you chose to ignore his comment.

Suga jumped up on the front counter to get your attention. You liked to think he was happy to see you so early.

“My sweet Suga boy. Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”, you cooed like usual scratching at the spot just behind his left ear that always got him going. The cat happily leaned into your touch.

“Wow…Jimin said that Suga seemed to really like you but I didn’t think it was to this extent. I think I might have some competition.”, Yoongi laughed.

“He’s a sweetheart. When did you adopt him?”

Suga had now move his attention back over to Yoongi. He picked him up and cradled him against himself, “Ohhh probably about four years ago. Right before I opened this cafe. He was rescued from a pretty bad situation. I had just gotten out of one myself and decided I wanted to adopt a cat for some companionship. I was eyeing him the whole time and then the woman at the shelter said that statistically black cats are less likely to get adopted and it was even lower for unfriendly ones. Suga had been at the shelter for over a year without anyone ever showing interest in him. I know what that feels like and…noone deserves that so I adopted him. It took some time and a lot of work but he’s coming around.”

“Yeah you did a good thing.”, you smiled watching Suga lazily flop onto his side so Yoongi could scratch his belly.

Later that day you were ringing up a customer when Jungkook came in with a few of his friends.

“Y/N what are you doing working so early? Not leaving the closing crew on me are you?”, he playfully asked.

“No no.”, you chuckled, “There was no one else to work so I’m doing a double to help Yoongi.”

“Man why didn’t he call me?”, he pouted, “I’m dying for some more hours.”

Your brows furrowed. Yoongi said he had called everyone and you were his last hope, “B-But he said he called everyone else?”

“Nope.”, Jungkook said double checking his recent calls and texts, “I got nothing.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Yoongi pretending to wipe down an already sparkling clean table and he did it with a noticeable blush on his cheeks.

“Weird…maybe he accidentally called the wrong number.”, you finally replied unsure of what else to say. He shrugged it off and proceeded to order a coffee and a few for his friends too. Before he left he slid a flyer across the counter at you, “I’m performing at this bar down on campus next Saturday. If you’re not busy maybe you can come watch.”

You nodded and accepted the flyer, “Yeah I’ll definitely think about it.”

Curiously Yoongi came over to look over the flyer which gave you an idea.

“Hey want to go with me? Maybe we can grab dinner or something before and then go show our support for our Kookie.”, you asked him.

“Kookie?”, he questioned with an eyebrow raise, “I don’t know. I’m not much of a bar person and if you two are going to need the night off then someone has to be here…”

You sighed, “Yoongi…Namjoon and Taehyung can handle the evening shift for one night. They’re dying for more hours. Plus it won’t kill you to go out and have a little fun once in a while.”

“I’ll think about it.”, was all he said before walking off. And after some begging on your part to get Namjoon to agree to switch shifts for the day and a few promises that it will be fun, Yoongi finally agreed to go with you to the show. He even shocked everyone and accepted your invitation to dinner.

He arrived at your apartment at 7pm exactly. His ripped blue jeans and white button down fit perfectly and were a nice change from the usual tshirt and black pants you were used to seeing him in around the cafe. A light woody vanilla scent filled the air between you.

“Are you wearing cologne Min Yoongi?”, you smirked noticing the immediate redness run down his neck.

It took everything in you to peel your eyes away and not stare too long at him.

“Ready?!”, you cheerfully asked before leading him back down the hall and into the elevator.

You spent most of the dinner trying to get to know more about him. Asking questions about his family, his friends, where he grew up, but he didn’t really seem to want to give up much information. After the entire time all you got was that he didn’t have much contact which his parents, he had one brother who lived on the other side of the world, no friends even though he did smile a little when you mentioned Jimin, he liked basketball, music, and cats which you already knew all of that no nothing new.

Most of the dinner was you telling him about your family, your friends, your cheating ex, the dream job you lost, and your future goals. He nodded and smiled when you said something funny. He was attentive and listened to you so even though he didn’t say much you still had a good time.

When the bill came he refused to let you pay anything no matter how much you pleaded.

“If you wanted to take me on a date you could’ve just asked!”, you joked.

“I don’t date my employees.”, he mumbled unable to make eye contact with you. Even though you were joking to begin with (kind of) his response did end up hurting just a bit but you were able to recover quickly and laugh it off to get on with the rest of the night.

Jungkook’s set was great. He really had a talent for performing and when he got a standing ovation at the end you may have been the one cheering him on the loudest.

“Y/N! What did you think?”, Jungkook asked after running up to you at the bar. “You did great! I didn’t know you were so talented.”, you smiled.

“Hey, I want to introduce you to someone.”, he said pulling another guy over next to him. He was tall and muscular with a nice smile. “This is one of my good friends Mingyu. He helps me with a lot of my music and stuff. We met in a dance class a few years ago.”

You smiled politely, “Hi, nice to me you.”

After listening to Jungkook you figured out what he was doing. He was certainly trying to set you up with his friend. Even though he was definitely cute and seemed nice enough you weren’t very interested. You were more concerned about finding out where Yoongi had run off too. He had excused himself to the restroom quite a while ago and you were starting to get worried that maybe he was sick or had something else happen to him.

While you listened to Jungkook hype up his friend you also continued to scan the room looking for any sight of Yoongi. Eventually Jungkook and Mingyu realized you weren’t that interested and also excused themselves to mingle with the rest of the crowd giving you the chance to finally search for your boss/friend/crush.

You quickly found him. Leaning up against the bar finishing up what looked like his third drink judging by the empty glasses in front of him. The bartender was pouring a little more whiskey in a glass before handing it over to him once more. When you walked up next to him you could tell from the way he was swaying and his dilated pupils surrounded by wet flushed skin that he was drunk. When he opened his mouth to speak you found out that he wasn’t just buzzed but was DRUNK drunk.

“Hey ttthhhere cutie pie!”, he slurred, “I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you.”

Oh boy did the alarm bells start ringing in your head.

“Mmmhm I’m sure. I’ve been here the whole time though.”

“Iiiiiii knoooow.”, he hiccuped before booping your nose, “But I saw you and your new boyfriend. I didn’t want to interrupt the romance.” You couldn’t even respond before he kept going, “Th-that guy with Kooookkkooiiiiee. You know…Mr. Extra Small Black Tshirt. I’d have been muscles like that too if I wore clothes out of the kids section.”, he scoffed.

“Yoongi let’s get you home.”

“Why so you can go home and…what do the kids say these days?…Copulate…So you can go home and copulate with him.”

“No.”, you sighed, “And I’m pretty sure no one, especially the kids these days, use that word.”

Getting him back to his place was difficult. You were sweating and panting and already sore from practically carrying him all the way there. Once inside the safety of the cafe the two of you crashed to the ground. Your poor knees just couldn’t take it any longer. Suga came out and greeted you meowing on and on about something. You would like to think it was concern at seeing the state of his owner, but you knew he was just upset from being woken up in the early hours of the morning and was making sure you knew it.

After taking a little break and forcing Yoongi to drink a bottle of water you got up and helped him get up off the floor to then again pull him all the way to the back of the store to where the door to his apartment was.

You remembered Jimin being very clear about never going into Yoongi’s apartment and you didn’t want to break that trust so you opened the door up for him and just hoped he would make it up there okay.

“Alright, go get in bed and sleep this off. I’ll check on you in the morning.”, you said pointing in the direction he needed to go.

“Come upstairs with me.”, he pouted.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“You’re drunk. Go drink some more water and get some sleep.”

“Y/N,”, he said taking a step closer to you, “I want you to. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

You shook your head, “I really don’t think that’s a good idea right now.“

“Why? Because I’m not tall and muscular? Because I don’t wear designer clothes? I’m not talented and perform on a stage? I bet if Jungkook or that other guy asked you would say yes. Is it because I just own a silly little cat cafe?”, he spat seeming hurt, a little angry and also confused.

“No Yoongi. None of that is true. We can talk about this tomorrow.”, you stood firm.

That’s when he did something you never expected. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in to kiss you. Instinctively you melted into it. You let his hands roam your body. You kissed him harder when a little moan escaped him as you ran your hands through his hair ending with a little tug.

But then it all changed. You tasted the left over reminisce of whiskey on his tongue. The smell of the alcohol on him became even stronger in that moment and it brought you back to reality. He was drunk. Drunk beyond coherent consent. He made it clear earlier that he didn’t date his employees. As much as you wanted him you weren’t going to take advantage of him especially since you knew how that felt and you definitely did not want to be seen as a mistake when he woke up sober and realized what happened.

Pulling it together you pushed him away from you., “No Yoongi. We can’t do this. Not now.”

Still not having full control of his body he fell back against the wall, hard. The impact seemed to have sobered him up instantly or sobered him up enough that he realized what had just happened between the two of you.

“I…I…”, he said frantically looking around, “I’m so sorry.” He entered through his apartment door slamming and locking it behind him. You could hear him running up the stairs and slamming another door.

You were left standing there bewildered and afraid and anxious.

The only noise that broke the deafening silence was the loud purring coming from Suga as he walked over to you and lovingly rubbed himself up against your legs.

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