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chxrrywines · 8 months ago

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₊˚⊹♡ assistance | sam winchester x reader

a/n - not for kinktober just a fic i wanted to get out!! i’m unsure whether i like the dialogue on this im sorry if it sucks i feel i can never write dirty talk right *sobs* but i really hope you enjoy!!! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2k, nsfw 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, kind of softdom!sam, long distance, fluff, comfort, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was later than he’d liked by the time he finally got back to the motel. With muscles that ached from the day’s strain, brain fogged from how tired he was, Sam honestly just wanted to call his girlfriend and talk to her until he fell asleep.

He’d meant to text her a couple of hours prior to let her know the hunt was dragging on longer than expected, but his phone had fucking died when he and Dean were two hours into their trek into the woods to find the pack of werewolves they were hunting, and he’d been pretty miserable ever since.

Dean had disappeared off to the nearest bar after dropping Sam off at their room so he thankfully had the place to himself to mope around as he plugged his phone into the charger and showered whilst he waited for it to get some power. The shitty water pressure and barely lukewarm water did nothing for his aching back, so he was even more agitated by the time he got himself settled onto the uncomfortable mattress twenty minutes later, hair wet and skin still damp beneath his clothes with his eagerness to call her.

As much as he hated being away from her for so long, and too often, it was the safest thing to do. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because she was too close to his shit. He still had dreams about Jess, about how that was all his fault. He couldn’t let it happen again.

His phone hadn’t even reached twenty percent but he was impatient and shuffled over to the edge of the bed so the phone cord would reach and held the phone to his ear as he called her, propped himself up against the headboard.

The phone didn’t even ring twice before she answered.

“Sam?”

“Hey, baby.” The words came out in an exhale, most of the tension left him just at the sound of her voice, the ache seeping out of his bones like a relief. It was what kept him sane whenever he was away. Her picture in his wallet, her hair tie on his wrist, her voice in his ear.

“Hi, Sammy. Got worried when you didn’t call on time.”

He winced at the thought. She worried for him, of course she did. Sam understood how horrible it must have felt for her, knowing what he was going off to do. He could only imagine the dread that must’ve curled inside of her whenever he was late calling. Too many things had happened in the past, too many things could still go wrong.

“Sorry, my phone died when we were still out, didn’t get back until way later than I thought,” he groaned, sank down the headboard a little to stretch out on the bed. The agitation still hadn’t quite left him, the stiffness in his muscles prominent. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in his arms and he couldn’t have it. “Miss you, honey.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, “Missed you more. Wish you were here, it’s cold at night without you in bed too.”

He snorted a quiet laugh. “That’s why you miss me?”

“Mhm,” she giggled, though her voice turned a little coy as she murmured, “among other reasons.”

“Yeah?” An automatic smile was curling at his mouth.

Another little giggle through the receiver. He didn’t even need to see her to know that she had that little bashful smile on her face. He also knew exactly what was on her mind, it was on his too.

It wasn’t the first time they’d have done this. He was on the road so often that their sex life wasn’t as amazing as it could have been, and it wasn’t like he didn’t pleasure himself when he was away on hunts anyways.

There had been many many evenings he’d spent in the shower, hot water rolling down his back as he had one hand pressed to the tiled wall whilst the other pumped his cock until his cum was washed down the drain along with his shampoo bubbles. It wasn’t ideal — bottom lip tucked between his teeth to stifle the heaving breaths and quiet groans, trying to get off as fast as he could before the hot water could run out or Dean could get back to the room. It was even worse when it became a result of having her on the phone. There had been many occasions where her soft voice and giggles in his ear had been enough to get him hard, on nights when he was really missing her and it had just been too long since he’d kissed her.

It turned out she did the same as him. Though when Sam pictured it, it was a lot more graceful than his time in the shower. Laid out all pretty on their bed, legs spread, fingers wet with her own arousal as her head tipped back against the pillows. Sometimes if he got a little selfish he pictured her voice all whimpery saying his name as she came, but he couldn’t get lost in that daydream often, or he’d get hard over that, too.

“Miss you,” she breathed again, and the shift in her tone was palpable. “I… I tried touching myself earlier but I couldn’t cum without you on the phone.”

The groan that left him was automatic and his cock throbbed, hardening beneath the material of his boxers. The idea that she couldn’t even get off without his voice in her ear did wonders for him, it was a wonder his ego wasn’t too big already.

“You need my help, honey?” He crooned into the phone, settled into the tone of voice he knew she liked to hear, the voice he used more often than not when he was whispering in her ear, hips slotted between her thighs, rolling in a rhythm that left her whiney and panting.

Her soft little “mhm” was enough for him to move his other hand down and palm himself, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

“Go ahead and lay down for me, pretty girl. Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?”

There was the rustling of sheets over the phone before her voice spoke up again, “Just one of your shirts.”

Another groan. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

She giggled and his cock twitched beneath his palm. Jesus Christ he needed to get back to her, he needed her in person, to sate the need that wouldn’t be doused thoroughly enough over the phone.

“Go ahead and spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he breathed, palming his cock again as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut as his head knocked back against the headboard. “Did you get yourself all worked up earlier, hm? Are you all soaked already?”

There was another hum, though he could hear the way her breathing had deepened, deep and heavy in his ear. He could picture the tickle of her breath on his face, the shape of her lips, the taste of her mouth after she’d just brushed her teeth. He needed her.

“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me?” He murmured, voice low with his arousal. Her resounding moan was enough for his cock to throb again and his hand finally dipped beneath his waistband, freeing himself with a quiet groan.

“Are you touching yourself too?” She whimpered, and it was a miracle he didn’t just cum there and then.

“Yeah,” his hand lifted and he tipped his head down to spit into his palm, groaning softly the next time he pumped his cock. “Yeah I am, dolly. Your pretty voice got me all worked up— fuck.” He breathed out the word between his teeth. He was already leaking pre-cum, thumbing over the head of his cock in a move that made him shudder, though it felt nice when she did it. Stroked his cock with her pretty hands, her pretty lips that wrapped around his head when she was on her knees for him, licking along the length of his dick in a way that always made him weak in the knees.

She moaned again and his hips jerked, rutting into his hand with a filthy groan. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

She whimpered, and Sam felt another dribble of pre-cum slide down the length of his cock. “Good— mm, good, j’st—” she took in a shaky breath, “feels better when it’s you, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” He grunted, pumping his cock just a little faster. “Why’s that, dolly?”

“Bigger hands,” she breathed. “longer fingers.”

Sam moaned, the idea of his fingers nestled deep in her wet heat enough for his cock to throb in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. But from the sounds of her pretty little whimpers, neither would she. “Can’t fill that pretty pussy up as nice as I can, hm?” He took in a shuddering breath. “Play with your clit for me, sweetheart.”

He could hear the moment she did, the sharp inhale, the whimpery moan, the rustling of the sheets as she, undoubtedly, spread her legs wider. “Oh god, Sammy—”

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

All he got in response was a high-pitched “uh-huh.”

“That’s it— shit, that’s it, baby,” he panted, pumping his cock faster, moaning softly as his head arched back. “Go on, dolly, make some pretty sounds for me as you cum, won’t you? M’gonna cum just thinking about you making such a mess of yourself, c’mon, baby—” he was practically begging between sharp breaths.

It only took a moment before he heard her sharp inhale and the whine that followed, and all it took was a few more quick ruts into his hand and the sounds of her before he groaned her name, toes curled and eyelids scrunched as he came. He could feel the evidence of his orgasm dribbling down his cock and his fingers as he shucked a few more times, hissing through his teeth as he finally stopped.

“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed, panting, not unlike her heavy breaths into the phone. “You sounded so fucking pretty, honey. That feel good for you?”

She took a shuddery breath and hummed again. “Yeah, thanks baby.”

Sam couldn’t help the breathy chuckle. “Don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “M’always gonna take care of my girl, even if I’m not there. You made quite a mess of me, too.”

She breathed a laugh, and a moment passed of just their shared breathing as they both calmed down. Sam’s cock had softened completely against his abdomen, and he’d have to change his clothes and have another shower, but fuck was it worth it.

“I’ll be on my way back to you tomorrow,” he promised once his breathing had mostly evened out. “Should be with you before dinner, then you get me all to yourself.”

She yawned into the phone before mumbling, “Good, want you back to me as soon as possible.”

The sound of her so sleepy just left him so soft. “I promise I will be,” he breathed. “Why don’t you get some sleep, okay honey? I’ll call you in the morning when we’re on the road.”

“Okay,” her voice had completely softened, coated in a sickly-sweet fondness that left him putty in her hands. “I love you. Get back to me safe, okay?”

“I always do,” Sam smiled. “I love you too. Night, gorgeous.”

She yawned her own goodbye before the line went dead, and he let the phone drop back down onto the mattress with a heavy breath.

Just one more day, then he could have her in person, help her in all the ways he wanted to on the phone.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #spn #spn x reader #spn smut #spn one shot #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #supernatural one shot

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remxedmoon · 4 months ago

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(you worked yourself to death.)

yeah i wasn’t kidding when i said these would be coming soon. <- haha funny joke marshall. so!! remember when i said that this post would be coming out last weekend? guess whose tablet broke a few days after saying that! so sorry for the delay!! this is long overdue. here’s a link to the drive, as always! everything in this part of the update should be in the miscellaneous folder (outside of the menu icons, which are in the menu folder. wauaua).

unedited versions below the cut, plus some notes. fair warning 90% of this is just ui stuff lol

so! all of this was already done by the time i posted the enemies. the delay isn’t *entirely* because of the tablet issues, i just managed to get distracted by making: even more redraws! i’d say new update soon but after what happened last time i shouldn’t jinx myself. but! almost All of the art for the initial mod release is done!!!! exciting!!!!!!

please be nice to me (silly) this is my first time doing frame by frame animation in… give or take 5 years? i followed the original animations pretty closely, so they don’t look Awful but i am Aware of the jank. i’m not an animator!!! they’re Good Enough for my purposes.

hey did you know that the original teleport map is slightly off center. did you know that. that’s not the case for the redraw for the record but it did make things a little harder. despite that, i think you can tell i was having fun with the dormont part of the map. i would’ve put more detail into the house, but we never really get a more detailed look at it??? and i didn’t want to make assumptions. so that part’s just traced from the original 👍. anyways shoutout to the clocktower being Curved for whatever reason

outside of those, all of the added art is actually just spritework. i didn’t know this at first, but there’s a TON of copies of sprites from the icon set. Basically Everywhere. so those are added now! and should work properly! also added a few sprites that were Missing from my original batch. not going to put them all here, but a few Important ones (which i actually had to make new art for) are the rock paper scissors cheatsheet, the Larger versions of the craft signs (used in the calamité fight and. probably somewhere else idk), and the craft signs for the tutorial kid fight!

aaaand i think that’s it! for stuff from this update. yeah no there’s more coming buddy. my tablet already broke one time this week there’s no way it’s happening twice. i’m not working on portraits Just Yet (though the temptation has been There), but i’ve got the title screens, a few backgrounds, and the ending cgs done! along with a few other assorted cgs sketched out. because im out of my fucking mind. so, uh, see you soon!! enjoy!!

#marshdoodles #isat #in stars and time #huh. wait is this the first spoiler free update????#i should. prolly tag it anyways there are spoilers in the drive #isat spoilers #AGAIN SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #my charging port on my ipad fucking Rusted #and apparently i’ve been using this thing so much that the pins in one side of the port are completely dshot #so! prolly gonna have to get a new one Soon but it still functions and that’s good enough for me #anyways!! the title screens are actually already in the drive. they’re just getting their own seperate post #also uh. as an aside. thank you guys again for all the support???#seeing people actually Mod my art into the game and make layouts genuinely made my day #what do you mean people like my art. thats insane to me #(also super sorry about the drive being so disorganized. i promise ill make a version that matches the ingame img folder eventually)#isat redraw project #<- I FORGOT TO TAG THIS. OOPS. KNEW I WAS FORGETTING SOMETHING.

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ang3l0fthursday · 11 months ago

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“Jus’ Wanna Feel You”

Matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: reader has a rough day and just wants her boyfriend, matt, who also really wants his girlfriend.

warnings: cockwarming | VERY SLIGHT angst(matt has some insecurities) | p in v | sub! matt x softdom!reader| i think that’s it

UNEDITED😖

word count: 1.5k

matt is blue

reader is pink

i stumbled through the front door of Matt and his brothers home, putting my keys on the row of hooks, and throwing my shoes off onto the ground next to the door.

i fumbled my way up the stairs, which seemed endless at the time. i had such a rough day, my feet hurt from walking, and everyone i talked to had a stick so far up their ass it was peaking out of their mouths.

i just needed matt. he would make everything better. everything.

i made my way to his bedroom door, slipping in as quiet as possibly when i noticed he was at his desk with his headphones on.

i set my bag behind the door and made my way to my side of the bed. i took of all my rings and bracelets, and then taking off my necklace, before placing them all on the bedside table

i threw off my sweatshirt and finally, i could go to matt.

i shuffled my way to his chair

“matt”

“huh? oh hello sweetheart i didn’t see you come in”

“are you streaming”

“no baby i’m not”

“can anybody see or hear you right now”

“no” he giggled at my assortment of questions

i stumbled into his arms and onto his lap, placing my head in the crook of his neck

“rough day baby?”

i let out a soft “uh huh” before closing me eyes and nuzzling further into his embrace

“jus’ need a minute”

“of course mama whatever you need”

i shuffled my hips and adjusted my legs to be the most comfortable i could be

matt lett out a low noise. i couldn’t really make it out from the way my ear was pressed to his neck

i sat up straight to analyze matt’s soft features and try and figure out what had happened

“what was that?” i asked curiously

“nothing m’ sorry! i didn’t mean to i just got overwhelmed from the way you moved im so sorry-“

“what are you- oh.” i looked down and saw his hardened cock. “oh baby you’re alright i know you can’t help it sometimes baby”

“i know but m’ so sorry, you had a rough day and i know you don’t wanna do anything like that right now baby”

“baby calm down, can you do that for me?”

he shyly nodded his head, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly fell in front of his face, untucking from the band of his headphones

“good boy” i said lowly into his ear, kissing his jaw and leaning up to him

he bucked his hips slightly

“wanna make you feel good mama”

i giggled, “you just wanna get off”

“nuhuh, making you feel good makes me feel good”

“you mean it?”

“i’ve never meant anything more in my life”

“cornball” i snickered and kissed his blush-adorned nose

suddenly his face fell, “don’t start” he paused to poke my ribs “YOU made me like this”

he continued to jab my sides and i couldn’t stop giggling at the way it tickled my ribs.

“i didn’t MAKE you do anything”

he kept doing this and i couldn’t help but get frustrated, ofcourse i love his playfulness but it’s natural girl instinct to get scared from tickling. right?

i quickly grabbing both his hands and pinned them to the sides of his chair, next to his head.

his cheeks quickly flushed, saddening his already beautiful face. more hair had fallen into his face from our small play-fight and his breath had quickened.

what a sight.

“you’re so pretty baby you know that?”

“th-thank you mama” his eyelashes fluttered slightly as i slowly moved my hips along his length

“f-fuck..” his breath slowly sped up and his jaw hung lowly

“what if we just put it in and not move?”

“like- like cockwarming?”

“yes baby exactly like”

“okay mama”

he leaned forward and placed a soft b out meaningful kiss on my lips

i moved off of him and took off both my pants and my panties before making my way to the bed and grabbing a blanket

“what’re you doing ma?”

“i don’t want my ass too be out it’s too cold for that”

we both giggled before i made my way back over to matt

“come here baby” my hands made their way to the waistband of his dark grey sweatpants. my fingers slipped under both his pants and boxers waistband and i slowly brought them both down his legs. i met his gaze and smirked slightly to show i was teasing him.

“please mama i need you… jus’ wanna feel you”

“i’m coming baby” i finally pulled his pants and boxers off of his ankles and stood up, before making my way back onto his lap, wrapping his blanket acrossed my back.

with matt’s video game long forgotten, his controller having fell on the floor, i slowly hovered my way above him.

“you ready baby?”

“fuck- yes ma please”

i grabbed his cock and guided to my entrance before slowly sliding down onto his length. i made my way down slowly, inch by inch taking him in, holding matt’s flustered gaze.

when i finally bottomed out i shuffled on habit, causing matt to let out a loud, low whimper, his hands flying to hold onto my waist.

“fuck sorry baby i forgot”

i peppered kisses acrossed his forehead, waiting for his breathing to calm down

“mama-“ his gaze was on the floor, and as he started to speaking my hand went up to his face, landing on his cheek. his nuzzles his way into my hand. “m’ sorry for being so sensitive mama.” he looks up at me through his pretty lashes as he almost seemed to break down.

“oh sweet boy don’t be sorry for that, you and i both know you can’t help that. and it doesn’t bother me.”

his soft blue eyes never left mine before he spoke again, “you promise?”

“i promise sweet boy”

“oh and i’m also sorry for having you comfort me when you had a bad-“

“baby you have got to calm down okay? you’re okay i promise”

“i love you” i had never heard him say something so sincere before, it made my heart flutter and i immediately kissed him.

“i love you so much matty”

“how about i just-“ i swiveled my hips forward

“fuck- are you sure?”

“i’m sure matty”

i sped up my hips against his, quickly feeling the effect of my movements, and from the sounds matt was letting out, he was too.

“mmm- fuck you made me feel so good” he bucked his hips up before looks to me for approval.

“do whatever you think is best matty”

as soon as i finished my sentence, his hands made their way back to my hips before quickly thrusting up once more. his hands guided my hips in a gear-shift motion against his own. me made me feel euphoric.

his hands dug into the soft flesh of my thighs before he threw his head back, knitting his eyebrows and dropping his jaw and i took this as a sign to move my hips instead of letting him do it.

matt started shamefully letting out moans and whimpers as i brought my hips down onto his.

i decided to switch it up. i normally slide my hips back and forth, going the ready route, but god i knew that it would feel better if i properly rode him.

i put my hands on his shoulders before bringing my self up, almost completely off of his length.

he looked at me in confusion, before i quickly slammed back down onto his length. his face immediately switched into one of pleasure.

his jaw going slack.

his eyebrows knitting.

and his eyes fluttering shut.

god how i loved him.

i quickly repeated my actions of bouncing acrossed his length

“fuck- if you keep that up i’m gonna cum”

“well that’s kinda the whole point matty”

“no i know but- but i want you to- shit - feel good too ma”

“i know you do baby but im almost there too okay?”

a specific movement of my hips cut off his “okay” as i sped up my movements.

“holy shit i’m so close mama”

i let out a quiet moan, before throwing my own head back and leaning back to rest my hands on his knees

“ohhh shit matt oh my god”

he let out quiet whimpers. almost like a silent praise at the way i made him feel

“fuck fuck fuck i’m so close- mama please”

i leant forward and grabbed the sides of his face. i brought his forehead to mine, “fuck cum with my matty”

his hands made their way to my wrist as he closed his eyes and i felt his breath against mine as he quickly flung his hips up into mine.

his movements sent me over the edge. my core felt so tight as i came unraveled on his cock.

as i came undone on his cock, clenching tight on him, matt let out an extra loud moan, followed by quiet whimpers as i felt him cum inside me, costing my silky walls.

“fuck fuck fuck” he whispered into the close proximity we shared.

i slowly brought down my movements, hearing matt’s breath slow with mine.

“you make me feel so good mama”

“i try” i smile sarcastically

i try to pull off, before being stopped

“can we cockwarm- like for real this time?”

“okay baby” i giggle as i kiss his lips one last time.

—————

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sub matt sturniolo

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pazziescapism · 2 months ago

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Break Our Ice - Chapter 1

pairing: paige x azzi

wc: 7.8k (what?? holy shit)

au fic what??, figureskater!Azzi x icehockeyplayer!Paige

fake dating, just like playful banter teasing relationship to lovers, basically paige and azzi dancing around each other

a/n: okay so!! first post/fic kinda nervy..AHAH all these great writers on here have really inspired me so yeahhh, I haven't written fanfic or really written anything in a REALLLYY long time so um yea im a little rusty ngl. anyway, the motivation needs to keep pumping so i would love to here some live reacts or just any comments and feedback, lwk unedited so like if u see anything just lmk so here goes nothing!! love y'all (wait also im from australia, yep, all the way down under, i tried writing this with like american spelling n what not cuz we use british english) - but if i made any mistakes again let me know <3

Over a decade of figure skating, and Azzi hasn't ever hit anyone with an ice skate.

She was currently considering it, but she figured that the fact she hadn’t was mostly a sign that she was a good person, on the account that she thought of it and was actively refraining. Surely, that made her a better person than someone who never had to resist the temptation.

“Thank you for that fascinating look inside your brain,” Caroline says when Azzi voices this thought. “I hope you see a therapist about these disturbing violent urges.”

“Nobody likes a backseat psychologist,” Azzi tells her, and twists away before Caroline can tell her she’s misusing the phrase or something unwaveringly supportive.

It’s easy to lose herself in the motions of this routine, which is a beginner practice she chose for a cooldown. And the quieter her mind gets, the less homicidal she feels, which is probably better for everyone all around.

“Oi,” someone calls from the spectator stands, and Azzi’s mind splashes red very briefly. “I just said we booked this rink.”

Paige, the potential victim of ice-skate homicide, is looking over the stands, her jawline clenched in a way that looks very lickable (but she very quickly buried that thought).

“Didn’t you hear?” Azzi says brightly, spinning away, one foot crossing gracefully over the other. “You aren’t allowed to book the rink on the first Saturday of the month! It’s free use!” She calls over her shoulder.

She spins back around in time to see Jana, the giant Egyptian on their team, straighten up to a full height of probably 6’2. “Oh, okay! Sorry to bother you!”

She turns to leave and is stopped by Paige’s hand gripping her shoulder.

“Jana,” Paige says, her eyes shutting briefly as if praying for patience. “Wisen up, huh?”

Azzi snickers, sliding nearer to see that angry jawline up close, but her fun is quickly spoiled by the sight of the hockey team coach approaching the rink, evidently coming to see what the hold-up was.

“Ah, well,” she says hastily, crossing to the other edge to exit the rink. “I tried!” She yells across the ice to where the team is, and she swears on her life she can see Paige try to hide a smile.

She meets up with Caroline in the locker room, because of course Caroline had left at the specified time instead of sticking with Azzi to piss off the hockey team.

It wasn’t that Azzi enjoyed it, really. She was just generally opposed to getting walked over. If the end result was that the delicious-looking vein in Paige’s neck began to show, that was only a side benefit.

(And if Azzi and Kaitlyn occasionally go to their games, Azzi will maintain to her dying day that it is actually to throw them off their game and not an attempt at manifestation.)

“A poked bear may stumble in its sleep but eventually its eyes will open,” Caroline tells her.

“Caroline, you really are a weird girl,” Azzi says. “Repeat that with real-life words, please.”

Caroline thinks this over. “One of those guys is going to snap and hit you one of these days,” she offers instead.

Azzi scrunches her nose in disdain. “You should be more worried about me snapping.”

“I am,” Caroline says. “I’m worried that them snapping will make you snap and then we’ll get banned from this rink.”

“Out of curiosity,” Azzi asks, swinging her bag of practice clothes over her shoulder. “Why are you getting banned in this scenario?”

“I wouldn’t cooperate with law enforcement when they came to arrest you,” Caroline says solemnly.

Azzi stares at her, strangely touched. “Thank you. I’ll try not to get arrested.”

This resolution is tested immediately after leaving the rink, which had admittedly not been in Azzi’s plans.

“Azzi!” Jayden yells at her, jogging over from where he had been standing by his car parked outside the rink. “Hey, Azzi, listen-”

“I’ll piss on your grave and listen to your corpse roll,” Azzi says, but only quietly and only to herself.

“I got two tickets to a hockey game a week from now,” Jayden says, catching up to her, smiling that horrible smile that makes Azzi want to knock his teeth out. “I got a lot of girls asking me to come, but I thought I’d take you out.”

“Oh, did you?” Azzi asks, as flatly as possible. She’s already walked to the bus stop, and now she’s stuck waiting there while Jayden talks at her.

“C’mon, we can make a whole thing out of it,” Jayden says, oblivious to the murderous vibes Azzi is projecting.

“Not interested,” Azzi says. “Take one of the girls.”

“Aw, but I want to take you,” Jayden says, almost whining. “Besides,” oh god here it comes, “you do kind of owe me, for the whole free rink access.”

There it is. There is how Azzi has been roped into accepting nearly every invitation this stupid bastard has thrown her way over the last few months out of some desperate attempt to try and buy his way into her pants.

“I owe your dad,” Azzi reminds him, though she knows it won’t work. “Who owns the rink. Not you.”

“You know my dad wouldn’t want you to turn this down,” Jayden responds, like he always does. “He wants us to get closer.”

Azzi, in no small way, owed Geno her career, a debt that mattered more to her than any other chain she was attached to. And, no, Geno would not want Azzi strong-armed into going on pseudo-dates with his son, but it would make him upset if Azzi started fighting with the bastard, which was bound to happen soon because Jayden did not like to be told no.

“I can’t,” Azzi says, more out of spite than anything else.

“Why not?”

“I-” Azzi licks her lips and stares at the pimple sprouting on Jayden’s chin as maliciously as possible. She hopes it explodes. “I have a girlfriend who wouldn’t like that.”

Even as she says it, she regrets it. She isn’t even sure why she said it.

“A girlfriend,” Jayden echoes, his tone incredulous.

“A girlfriend,” Azzi maintains, desperately committed to her sinking ship. “She’s kind of overprotective, really.”

God, she’s fucked the second Jayden asks to see a picture. Or by next week, when Jayden inevitably asks why her so-called girlfriend has yet to drop by when Azzi practices. And then she’ll have to explain that she lied, and then Geno will look at her all confused and disappointed like the time Azzi had basically melted the entire rink by accidentally turning off a master switch that killed all the power in the building, and then her career and all her professional relationships will be burned down and it’ll all be Azzi’s own fault because she can’t keep her mouth shut and deal with a couple hours with Jayden. And apparently she likes to self-sabotage.

Azzi feels like she’s going to vomit. She feels like the sidewalk she’s standing on is starting to cave in beneath her, like the sky is suddenly bearing down on her shoulders, too heavy to carry, so close to pushing her to her knees.

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from behind her. “You forgot your skates!” Azzi manages to turn on shaky legs to see Paige jogging towards her in sweatpants and her hockey jersey. She’s carrying a pink bag that had been a present from Kaitlyn, which Azzi uses to store her skates when she’s taking the bus.

“Ah, Paige” she manages to say through the depths of her spiralling thoughts.

She’s got a light sheen of sweat on her forehead- she’s probably been practicing, Azzi thinks dizzily- and her shoulders seem especially broad with that jersey on.

“Here,” Paige says, holding the bag out. When Azzi doesn’t make a move to take it, she clicks her tongue and, in a shockingly gentle movement, pulls Azzi’s hand up herself, so that she can place the bag on her palm. Then Azzi takes it, clumsily adjusting her grip so she’s holding it properly by the handles. Her breath is still coming too fast, her lungs burning in his chest.

A heavy hand settles on her shoulder, fingers settling near the nape of her neck shaking her lightly so that Paige can peer up into her eyes. “Hey,” she says, in a voice so soft it could have given Azzi an instant warmth in her con other, much different, circumstances. “What’s wrong with you?”

Paige’s hair is in its usual braided style, always neat, yet effortless like someone hadn't even wasted a second of their time putting it up like that. She’s got nice eyes, Azzi's noticed them before. A sort of blue that pierces into your soul and stays there. Her eyebrows are currently pulled down low, making the skin of her forehead wrinkle.

Jayden, who had been blissfully silent, up until now, decides to chime in. “Is this the girl?”

Paige steps forward, frowning. “Who’s this?” She asks, and she’s talking to Azzi but she’s looking at Jayden, and Azzi’s never been quite this grateful for Paige’s slight resting bitch face before.

“Just a friend,” she says smoothly. “Azzi, properly introduce us sometime, okay?”

“Sure thing!” Azzi says, as nicely as possible, which makes Paige head turn towards him again. It doesn’t matter because Jayden is already slithering back into his car that cost way too much money, not to mention insurance premiums, making excuses about why he has to leave.

It’s only once Azzi can’t even see the fumes created by that hideous fucking car that she lets her shoulders drop, her forehead drooping to rest on Paige’s shoulders. A little voice in her brain pops up to tell her that, in normal circumstances, she would rather die than be this vulnerable in front of this girl. But right now, in these circumstances, Azzi has just barely avoided having a panic attack in public and Paige’s jersey smells sweaty but not dirty, and her shoulders are such a steady place to rest her tired head.

“Um.” Paige says, and then a hesitant hand is rubbing her back, up and down in comforting strokes.

“Thank god you’re so scary, p,” Azzi mumbles, fisting his hands into jersey material on both sides of Paige’s chest, unwilling to pull away just yet. Fortunately, Paige doesn’t try to move, just keeps running her hand down Azzi back. It’s oddly comforting, Azzi’s breath starting to level out again.

“Don’t tell me you were letting that guy bully you,” Paige says, disbelieving. “You? I once saw you make Nika cry. Actual tears!”

Azzi laughs, despite herself, and finally stands up straight. She reluctantly releases the jersey she had clenched in her fists, and watches the material stay gathered where she had grabbed it.

“It’s hard to explain,” she says. “And I think your teammates are looking for you.”

KK has, in fact, wandered out, her hockey stick held out in front of her chest like a protective barrier.

“They were probably worried we’d killed each other,” Paige says, and makes a gesture Azzi can’t see at KK, who beams and gives her a thumbs up before running back inside.

“She did look glad to be out of the crossfire,” Azzi says, amused.

“Ah, you scare her,” Paige says dismissively, and then looks at her carefully. “Hey, uh-”

Azzi’s not sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for Paige to step forward and chuck her under the chin. “Cheer up, alright?“

“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi says exasperatedly. She doesn’t say thank you, but she hopes Paige can see it in her eyes. Maybe not. Either way, Azzi thinks, watching the girl lope away, she had been a temporary solution to a much bigger problem.

“It’s not a problem,” Kaitlyn tells her that evening. Azzi thinks she might be rolling her eyes, but she can’t tell because her face is smashed into her couch cushion, so all she can see is the thin cracks beginning to line the fabric. Kaitlyn is prone to rolling her eyes when Azzi complains to her, so it’s a strong possibility.

“It is a problem,” Azzi says into the couch, not budging from her comatose position. “I’m never leaving my apartment again. My body will atrophy, and my flesh will rot, and you’ll find it here, on this couch, being eaten by flies.”

“You sure have a talent for dramatics,” Kaitlyn says, blatantly unsympathetic. “If figure skating doesn’t work out, I’m sure you have a career waiting for you in monologuing.”

“I think you would make a great Hamlet,” Caroline adds helpfully, perched on Azzi’s armchair like an overgrown crow, brown hair cascading how her shoulders.

“Or the evil witches in Macbeth,” Kaitlyn says.

“I wish you guys were dead,” Azzi says, and rolls over onto her back so she’s looking at the ceiling instead. God, her ceiling is so fucking ugly, and she can’t even get it fixed because she’s never going to the Olympics, and she’s going to be poor and useless and tragically beautiful for the rest of her life-

“What is wrong with you?” Caroline says, and Azzi realizes belatedly that she’d been saying all of that out loud.

“I’m so fucked,” Azzi says, and her voice shakes more than she had meant it to. “What do I do?”

“You could confess you lied,” Kaitlyn suggests. “And say it was a spur of the moment thing, whoopsie.”

“And then what?” Azzi says glumly. “I’m stuck following Jayden anywhere he wants to go for the rest of his life, and being polite to him even when he starts acting like I’m some kind of Oliver Twist orphan his father took in and nurtured and I owe him my first born child”

“Christ,” Caroline says. “Just get your little hockey player to pretend she’s your girlfriend.”

Azzi sits up at that, tousled strands of hair falling out of her braids. “Are you completely insane?”

“I think it’s a good plan,” Kaitlyn says, unerringly loyal to the end. “You’re so smart, carol.”

“It’s an awful plan,” Azzi hisses. “What am I supposed to say? Sorry I’ve been actively antagonizing you and your team for a bit, please pretend to be my girlfriend to keep my career alive, and also if you notice I can’t stop blushing when you’re near me, don’t pay it any mind, I just think you’re really pretty?”

“Not exactly like that,” Caroline says. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

Azzi stares at her for a minute, trying to will Kaitlyn to show some sort of outward contradiction. When it doesn’t work, she collapses with a huff back onto the couch. “I’m fucked,” she repeats.

KK the first one to notice her the next day, hovering awkwardly around the entrance as the team wraps up. Azzi remembers what Paige had said about KK being scared of her, so she tries her nicest smile, giving a small wave with her right hand.

“Hey!” KK says easily, coming up to her. She’s still in her hockey gear, but her ice skates are off. “Are you looking for Paige?”

“I am, yeah,” Azzi says slowly. “How did you know that?”

KK blinks at her, her head tilting slightly to the side in silent question. “You’re always looking for Paige.”

“Am not,” Azzi says, too defensively but she’s saved from hearing whatever KK has to say about that when Nika comes up to them, slinging an arm over KK’s shoulders, and making a mean face at Azzi.

“Don’t bully KK, her nerves can’t handle it,” Nika says and then takes a closer look at her face, and stops, eyes narrowing. “Woah, what’s wrong with you today?”

Azzi can’t imagine what she looks like right now. She has trouble sleeping at the best of times, and last night had been one of the worst. She had spent most of it lying on her back and picturing herself penniless and destitute, until the swirling darkness had seemed to take on a physical shape and that shape had started to laugh at her. By the time she’d gotten up, she hadn’t even had time to fix her hair, or cover up the dark circles that had formed under her eyes.

She pictures herself, her hair tangled and her skin greasy, and a new zit starting to pop-up over her cheekbone and just about turns herself around and walks out of the building all together.

“Azzi,” Nika says, “Azzi, Azzi, Azzi.” She’s waving a hand in front of Azzi’s face, concerned eyebrows visible through the gaps in her fingers.

Azzi flinches and smacks her hand away. “Listen,” she says. “I’m not in the mood to argue today. Is Paige here?”

Nika and KK have matching flabbergasted expressions, which is less than flattering. “You’re not in the mood?” Nika asks, like Azzi has just told her the Earth is going to get flattened by an asteroid in thirty seconds.

“I’m just-” It’s occurring to Azzi that this is possibly a really terrible plan and she should go home and think it over some more, without Kaitlyn’s cackling laugh in her ear, or at least come back with her hair brushed properly. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, I’m gonna go, honestly-”

“No, don’t go!” KK says quickly, her hand lashing out to wrap around Azzi’s arm. Azzi stares at her dead-eyed, and she winces and repeats, quieter. “Don’t go, Paige’s just changing out. She took a hard hit today, so we let her off without helping clean up. She should be here any second.”

“Azzi?”

“Speak of the devil!” KK says, sounding relieved and steps fully away from Azzi so she can see Paige approaching them, a long bag slung over her back. Her jacket is nice, Azzi notices, an expensive brand Azzi sees at competitions sometimes. It’s zipped up fully, the black fabric clinging tight to every defined muscle in her arms and chest.

“You don’t practice here today,” Paige says. She looks concerned too. Azzi is getting a little tired of these hockey players looking concernedly at her.

Azzi can think of fifty million different things to say here. Maybe a ‘how did you know that?’ or a ‘what do you care?’ or ‘hey can I talk to you?’

What comes out of her mouth is, “are you okay?”

Because Paige’s got a red, swelling mark on her jaw, sure to darken into a bruise over the next hour. She seems a little surprised by the question, her eyebrows lifting. “Yeah, just took a hit this practice. It happens.”

“Right,” Azzi says, because she knows that, because she’s seen a hockey game before. She shifts from foot to foot carefully. She’s become horribly aware of how her tongue is sitting in her own mouth. “Happens.”

“Yeah,” Paige says slowly. She looks like she wants to check Aziz’s temperature. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No,” Azzi snaps immediately, her shoulders rising to her chin. “Do I look tired to you?”

The answer is yes, probably, and it would be right. Azzi is exhausted, and she does want very badly to sit down. Still, something in her eyes must show that Azzi is running low on straws to grab at, because Paige doesn’t say yes immediately, just pauses and shakes her head slowly.

KK and Nika are both still there, Nika draped over KK’s back, watching the two of them like she’s seeing a particularly rough tennis match.

“What are you guys still doing here?” Azzi says, irritated.

Nika only smiles insufferably, lips curling up. “There she is. All back to normal. C’mon KK, let’s leave them alone.”

Azzi watches them traipse off, her irritation rising inexplicably when she sees they’re holding hands.

“I actually fell when I got hit,” Paige says apologetically, distracting her. “So if you’re here to see me, I’m going to need to sit down. For my leg. Which hurts.”

Azzi fixes her in place with a hard glare, her feet firmly planted where they are.

Paige’s eyebrow twitches, just a little. She grabs her leg, completely unconvincing. “Ouch.”

The glare is getting a little hard to keep up.

“Fuck,” Azzi says, after a moment, feeling the burning frustration in her throat subside. It hits her suddenly, as her mind clears, what she must look like to Paige, and her lips twitch. Paige’s eyes widen in alarm and Azzi breaks into laughter, a genuine laugh, rising up from her chest, her shoulders dropping back down, her body relaxing like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Sorry,” she says to Paige, who is staring at her. “That wasn’t hysteria. Sorry. I just realized I was being stupid. Also, you suck at lying. Let’s go sit down.”

Azzi kicks absent-mindedly at the legs of Paige’s chair, too nervous to look up and meet her eyes. “So, that’s the situation,” she says. It sounds more insane when she says it out loud than it had when she’d practiced it.

“Sure,” Paige says. They’ve sat down in a dingy little fast food place next to the ice rink, empty at this time of day, which is good for professional athletes who need to discuss crazy people schemes in relative privacy. A packet of limp fries sits between them, grease saturating the packet, spreading in blobs across the thin paper.

“Sure,” Azzi mimics. Her kicking grows faster, the chair legs squeaking as she hits them harder and harder.

A hand wraps around her ankle the next time it flies to kick the seat and Azzi finally looks up to meet Paige’s eyes.

“If you break it, I’m not paying for it,” Paige says warningly, and then releases Azzi’s leg.

Azzi kicks the chair one more time for good measure and then sweeps her legs under her own chair. “Can you just say something?” She asks, trying to cover the flush rising to her face. “And if the answer is no, that’s okay, but just so you know I’m trusting you to not tell anyone else that I asked you-”

Paige runs her hands over her face, groaning, and for the first time Azzi notices that her ears are bright red.

Knowing they’re in the same boat makes her inclined to be kinder, and Azzi settles down in her seat, determined to wait her out.

“Alright,” Paige says. “We need to talk about this somewhere else. People could walk in here any time and the last thing I need right now is to become tabloid fodder.”

“Ah,” Azzi says knowingly, both of them standing up. “Olympics selection is coming up.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, scrubbing a hand through her hair, making it even more frizzy. “Also, I generally don’t like seeing my face on newsstands.”

Azzi considers that, as someone who also does not love to see their face on newsstands and even more so on tabloids yet somehow always ends up on them. Azzi used to really struggle with all the added media requirements but it seems that it just seems so come with the whole ice skating package. “seems reasonable..”

“Oh, that’s right,” Paige says, leading them out into the parking lot. “You’re always doing all those modelling campaigns. I guess you see yourself a lot, huh?”

Azzi smiles. “I took two medals at last year’s Grand Prix,” she says. “I’m in high demand, p”

Paige looks skeptical. “Oh really? Ask one of your model friends to date you for real.”

“Why do that, when I could hang out with you?” Azzi asks, cheerful once again. They’ve reached Paige’s car, which is apparently the more private place Paige had been talking about.

“The windows are tinted,” Paige explains, as they both climb into the vehicle. It’s a nice car, Azzi thinks jealously, trying not to stare too obviously at the smooth, expensive-looking interior.

“Do you think any of the players from your team are going to get selected?” Azzi asks, leaning against the passenger side window to look at Paige.

“Well,” Paige says, slanting a crooked grin in Azzi’s direction. “Me, obviously.”

As the smirk turns into a soft laugh Azzi feels her heart constrict and tries to remember how to breathe properly. “Obviously,” she says, and if it doesn’t sound half as sarcastic as she meant it to, Paige doesn’t mention it.

“Nika, too,” Paige continues, thoughtfully.

“I guess I’ll see you there,” Azzi says, and watches the crinkle around her eyes make a reappearance.

“Why can’t you just use another rink?” Paige asks. “If you won two medals already, you can probably afford it.”

Azzi tips her head back and tries to think of the best way to explain this. “Figure skating isn’t like hockey, or football, or basketball. We don’t get contracts for the season. We get paid if we win, and the costs of equipment and training add up. A lot of professional figure skaters rely on their families, or work side jobs. Plus, we retire early, so I need to save up while I’m ahead.”

Paige is watching her steadily, blue eyes giving Azzi her full attention. Somehow, Azzi hadn’t expected her to be this good of a listener.

“And this rink is private, so no fans show up to watch you practice, and it’s near my house.”

“It’s near mine too,” Paige shares and Azzi stores that information away in a small folder of her brain with a picture of Paige’s face taped over it.

“That’s not even it, though,” Azzi continues. “Figure skating’s hard to get into, if you don’t have any connections. When me and my family moved here- our last city didn’t even have an ice rink. I learned to skate on a frozen over pond. When we moved, I used to practice before school, after school, weekends, whenever we could afford it. Geno set everything up for me, he got me a good coach, he made all the right introductions. I do owe him, whatever he might think about it. I don’t want to make him upset.”

Paige is silent for a moment and then slumps forward over the steering wheel, making a noise like a dog throwing up, her forehead hitting the top of the wheel.

“Paige?” Azzi says, immediately concerned. “What the fuck?”

Paige doesn’t lift her head up, just mumbles to the floor. “Have you just been secretly cool this whole time and I didn’t know it?”

It’s enough to startle a laugh out of Azzi, the second time today.

“I feel like there’s definitely a less insane solution,” Paige says, straightening up. “But I can’t think of it, so I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it?!”

“Just said I would.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi says, beaming so hard her cheeks are starting to ache. “Paige, you are a lifesaver. I will never say anything about your hockey team again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Do you want a ride home?”

Azzi nods, so incandescently happy, she thinks she might be glowing, practically bouncing in her seat as she turns to buckle her seatbelt.

When she looks back at Paige again, Paige is already looking at her.

Azzi blinks. “What?”

“Nothing,” Paige grinds out through gritted teeth as she starts the car. “Nothing.”

“By the way,” Paige says, as the two of them inch through the weekday traffic. “Why do you take the bus anyway? Aren’t you worried you’ll be recognized?”

“No one is looking for a figure skater on public transport, Paige,” Azzi says. “Besides, I never learned how to drive, I much prefer being a passenger princess.”

Paige looks over at her, incredulous. “You never learned how?”

“I was busy,” Azzi says defensively. “I’m only twenty-two, you know. And there’s lots going on in my life.”

“I wasn’t judging,” Paige says, “just surprised. I failed mine like three times.”

Azzi sits up straight in her seat. “Three times? How do I get out of this car?”

Paige tsks disapprovingly. “Relax, it’s fine. I passed in the end, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, on the fourth try,” Azzi mutters. “I’d probably pass the bar exam if I took it on the fourth try.”

“You are not funny” Paige says, but she’s smiling as she says it. “Better to try and fail than never try, right?”

“Personally,” Azzi says, as haughty as she can manage. “I’d rather try and succeed.”

When they pull up in front of Azzi’s apartment complex, Azzi is nervous again, fidgeting with the hems of her sleeves as Paige parks.

“Should we like,” she winces even as the words leave her mouth, “come up with rules, or a plan or something.”

“We could,” Paige says dubiously. “But if you say some corny shit like ‘rule one is don’t fall in love with me’ I’m gonna break up with you.”

“I wasn’t going to say that!” Azzi snaps. Then because she can’t help herself, she adds, “Anyway, that would be the last rule. For dramatic effect.”

“I can’t believe people think you’re scary,” Paige says.

“Shut up,” Azzi says, ineffectively, as she pulls out her phone. She opens up her Notes app, and types in ‘Rules’ into the header.

“Nerd.”

“Hush.” Azzi types in ‘Rule 1’ and then stares at it.

“Well?” Paige prompts.

Azzi scowls at her. “Rule number one is don’t be mean to me.”

“Rejected,” Paige says, and unbuckles her seatbelt to settle a little more comfortably into her seat.

“Fine,” Azzi says. “Rule one is, we have to keep going for about two months. That’ll be enough time to convince Jayden the relationship is real, and for him to get off my case.”

Paige agrees, so Azzi moves on. “Rule two is you have to go with me to weekly dinners at Geno’s house.”

Paige sits up at that, alarmingly straight. “Every week?”

“Well, not if you’re super busy,” Azzi says, a little taken aback. “I can try to get you out of the first few, but we’ll definitely have to go to a few.”

“It’s just,” Paige pauses, and then looks at Azzi, seeming incredibly pained. “I’m like, a really bad liar.”

The earnest worry on her face is too much to bear, and Azzi turns her head to stifle her laughter into her shoulder.

“I can still see you laughing,” Paige says heatedly. “I’m serious!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Azzi says, still giggling a little. She holds up her hands. “Not laughing at you, I swear. I’ll do most of the talking, you can just sit back and nod along. I’ll tell them you’re shy.”

“Of course you will,” Paige says, shaking her head. “Fine, yeah, that’s alright then.”

“Rule number three is,” Azzi hesitates, trying to think of something that’ll annoy Paige to just the appropriate level. “Rule number three is you have to drive me home from practice everyday.”

She looks at Paige expectantly, hoping to see that thrilling neck vein start to stick out, but the other man just looks thoughtful. “I probably can’t everyday,” She says.

“Paige” Azzi says, staring at her, wide-eyed. “I was just kidding, I obviously don’t expect you to just drive me around.”

“I guess it depends on how our practice schedules line up,” Paige continues, like Azzi hadn’t spoken at all. “Send me yours, and I’ll see, alright?”

“Paige-” Azzi says, bewildered by how quickly this conversation has gotten away from her, but Paige keeps speaking.

“Rule four,” she says. “Since we’re already doing this, I have a family function to go to about two months from now too. If I do this, you have to come pretend to be my date for that.”

“Ooh,” Azzi says. “The Paige Bueckers can’t get a hot date on her own?”

“You’re one to talk,” Azzi says, impassive.

Azzi sticks out her tongue, but adds it down into her notes. She isn’t sure what to do with rule number three, so she leaves it on there, and then shows the list to Paige.

“Sure,” Paige says affably. “There we go.”

Azzi hesitates. “Just like that?”

“Do you want us to spit and shake?” Paige says, amused.

“Definitely not.” Azzi looks at the list of rules in her phone again, chewing on her lower lip. “Just like, should we sign something?”

Paige sighs heavily, and then holds out her fist, pinky finger extended. When Azzi doesn’t move, just looks at her, she wiggles the finger impatiently. “C’mon.”

“Just checking- Are you seven years old, by any chance?” Azzi asks, but holds out her pinky anyway.

Paige doesn’t respond, but her eyebrows furrow slightly in focus as she loops their pinkies and then touches their thumbs together. “There. Now we’ve pinky promised.”

Azzi wants to pull on this girl’s cheeks. She wants to chew on her cheekbones. She wants to take Paige’s face between her two hands, and pepper little kisses over her nose. “Yeah,” she says helplessly. “Pinky promise.”

Azzi shows up at the rink again the next day, late in the evening after practice, and Paige waves her over from a bench where she’s wrapping up her gear and stuffing it into a bag. She’s wearing the same expensive jacket Azzi had seen yesterday, and for the first time, Azzi wonders just how much Paige earns in a year. Their team is good, she knows that, so she imagines it’s a lot. Definitely more than she earns, Azzi thinks bitterly. Nobody so much as questions her approach as she makes her way over, making Azzi wonder what Paige told her team. They had never really discussed it, so she guesses it’s fine if they know that Azzi needed a fake girlfriend.

“What’s that face for?” Paige asks as she gets closer, so Azzi makes an even worse face, scrunching up all her features and sticking out her tongue.

“Gross,” Paige says, and she looks like she’s going to say more but Jana and Ice are both coming over, the two of them together creating an almost overwhelming whirlwind of energy. They don’t question Azzi’s presence at all, looking vaguely eager as they approach.

“Hi Azzi, Paige,” Ice says. “Are you coming out with us for drinks next week, Azzi?”

Azzi turns to Paige, who shrugs as if to say up to you.

“I might,” Azzi says, uncertainly, and in an effort to be nice, she adds, “sounds like a real party.”

“The last time I was at a party was when my sister got kidnapped,” Jana says thoughtfully and Azzi isn’t sure which part of that statement should be addressed first.

“What?” She settles on.

“It was a search party, obviously,” Jana amends. “Not like a ‘ha-ha’ party. We were all very worried.”

“Sorry,” Paige says, looking as dazed as Azzi feels. “Did you say your sister got kidnapped?”

“It was a misunderstanding!” Jana says brightly. “You know, KGB agents and stuff. She was alright in the end.”

“Good for her!” Ice says, evidently not bothered by this story at all.

As the pair leave, Azzi turns to Paige and mouths kidnapped? Paige shrugs helplessly.

“What did you tell them anyway?” Azzi asks once the two of them are out of earshot. “About like- this whole thing?”

“About you propositioning me?” Paige asks, and Azzi winces at the word choice. “Nothing. I was going to lie and say we were dating if someone asked, but no one’s asked.”

Azzi pauses. “You were going to lie to your teammates for me?” She asks, feeling strangely warm at the thought.

“I would’ve tried,” Paige says, grinning. “I think I overestimated how much attention they pay to their surroundings.”

She pats the spot on the bench next to her. “Are you getting back from practice?”

“Yeah,” Azzi says, sliding onto the bench, so that she’s straddling it, facing Paige, one leg on either side. “Mats today.”

Paige hums a questioning noise, her eyes still focused on the tape she’s wrapping around her stick.

“When you do like jumps and stuff,” Azzi shares, feeling strangely shy. “You have to practice somewhere you won’t get hurt as bad before you try on the ice.”

“Can you get the same effect?” Paige asks, seeming genuinely interested. “Like, isn’t it different on the mats versus the ice?”

Azzi is struck, just then, by how strange it is to be sitting here, talking to Paige like a normal person, explaining the details of figure skating to her like they’re friends.

“Um,” she says out loud. “Yeah, it’s different. But it helps to get the footwork down.”

Azzi keeps talking, feeling like she’s separating a little from his body as Paige keeps working on her equipment, nodding along at all the right places, asking questions when Azzi stops speaking.

When Jayden slams a hand down on her shoulder, it feels like a sharp and unwelcome return to reality.

“I thought I’d drop by, but you weren’t at the bus stop,” Jayden says, in a stupid long coat that makes him look like three children stacked on top of one another. Azzi frowns.

“Paige is driving me home today,” she says, and Jayden turns to look at Paige who’s briefly paused her work to observe their interaction.

“So this is the girlfriend, huh?” Jayden says brightly.

Azzi nods, and stands up, moving to stand behind Paige, nudging her back gently. She feels a little jittery already, and she mostly just wants Jayden to leave, to let Azzi return to the conversation she had been having before he arrived.

“We actually have to leave,” she announces, and she can see Paige start to place her equipment into her bag again, starting to pack up. “Sorry to ditch as soon as we see you.”

“I was just wondering,” Jayden says, ignoring this, “because you guys don’t seem very coupley at all. Not to judge, or anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Azzi says sharply. “What does ‘coupley’ even mean?”

Couple things, she thinks desperately, what are couple things?

Her smile beginning to twitch at the corners, she reaches down and very hesitantly places a hand on Paige’s shoulder. Her face immediately begins to burn, blood rushing upwards so fast she’s starting to feel dizzy. That was so fucking stupid.

Straight-faced, Paige reaches up and pats Azzi’s hand. Pats it. Once, twice, and stops, returning to her task.

Azzi isn’t sure whether she wants to laugh or cry. This is where their attempt at public displays of affection ends, apparently. Azzi slowly lowering her hand onto Paige’s shoulder like she’s touching a hot stove, and Paige patting that hand twice.

She looks down to see Paige’s face and Paige looks back up at her, and when their eyes meet, Azzi can see that for once, they’re in complete agreement. We are terrible at this.

Jayden doesn’t seem to miss the terrible awkward exchange (it would be like missing an especially bloody train wreck, in Azzi’s opinion), judging by the narrowed suspicious eyes he’s aiming at the two of them.

“Strange,” Jayden comments, casually, so casually. “Azzo normally goes for brunettes”

That is both underhanded and untrue. She does not go for brunettes. Azzi doesn’t “go for” many people at all at all. People go for her. They might as well just show up at her house and form an orderly queue.

Azzi is currently less worried about the slander of her reputation and more worried about whether Paige would get worked up and hit Jayden over this.

“Really?” Paige asks, tipping her head back to look at Azzi for confirmation.

“I don’t chase,” Azzi says lightly. “I attract.”

Paige rolls her eyes, not meanly- something Azzi could mistake as fond if she didn’t know any better. “Well, there you have it,” she tells Jayden.

“She doesn’t like hockey players much, either,” Jayden says, clearly still on this. This part, at least, is true.

“Are you trying to ask a question?” Azzi asks, her tone biting.

Jayden is not phased by Azzi’s biting tone. “Just seeing if she’s really up to your usual standards,” she says, and Azzi wouldn’t even blame Paige if she hit him for that one. Still, she tightens the hand on Paige’s shoulder in warning.

Azzi shouldn’t have worried because Paige doesn’t even blink, just lifts her eyebrows, slightly sardonic. “Are we having a dick measuring contest? I would've brought my ruler.”

“Not a contest,” Jayden says, that fake smile slipping off his face. “I was just asking some questions.”

Paige snorts, continuing to pack up her gear. “Ask away.”

“Ask away later,” Azzi says hastily. “Because we have to go right now. No time for an interrogation.”

“Not an interrogation, either,” Jayden says, sticking his chin in the air. “Alright, I’ll go. Give you two some privacy.”

He looks at the two of them as though she’s expecting them to tell him to stay. When nothing is forthcoming, he turns on his heel and strides away, hands tucked into the deep pockets of that flaring coat.

“Looks like fucking Vader in that thing,” Paige comments, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Cartoon supervillain.”

They start walking towards the exit, the small musty hallway that leads into the parking lot.

“You handled that surprisingly well,” Azzi says. “I kind of expected you to hit him.”

Paige glances at her out of the corner of her eye, that familiar scowl on her face again. “I’m not that easy to piss off. It takes a little more than that to rile me up. Give me some credit.”

Azzi stares at her, mouth agape. “Are we talking about the same Paige? You’re so easy to rile up. Incredibly easy. It’s thrilling every time.”

Paige comes to a stop, and turns to point a thick finger at her chest. The two of them are standing alone in the dark hallway leading to the exit door, one dusty light bulb flickering on and off above them. The bruise on her face is turning a nasty colour, unlikely to fade for another week.

“You,” Paige says, squinting at her accusingly, “are just a special breed of irritating.”

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving Azzi standing still behind her, watching her retreating back.

“Was that a compliment?” Azzi yells after her, not moving from her spot. The sound of Paige’s answering laugh echoes off the walls, bouncing back towards her, Azzi’s lips pulling up in response, as she runs to catch back up.

“Wait,” Paige says, once they’re in the parking lot. Night has already fallen, early in the wintertime, the pavement around them lit up by tall streetlamps, casting yellow light over their faces. “Here, I’ll get in the passenger seat, and you drive.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Azzi asks, not moving.

Paige shrugs, already moving around to the passenger seat. “Come on, the lot is empty, I’ll teach you how.”

“Do you even know how?” Azzi asks, reluctantly accepting the keys Paige is proffering towards her, “I kind of figured that you just annoyed the test takers with your persistence until they let you pass.”

“Bruh,” Paige says mildly. “Go on, get in.”

Once Azzi’s sitting in the driver’s seat, she just stares at the wheel. There seem to be an awful lot of controls.

She turns to Paige. “What now?”

“Well, first you have to buckle your seatbelt,” Paige says, and Azzi scowls.

“I know that.” She doesn’t move.

Paige sighs. She seems to do that a lot around Azzi. Then Azzi is frozen for a different reason, as Paige leans over her, one hand gripping Azzi’s shoulder as she reaches for Azzi’s seatbelt, smooth muscle shifting under her skin as she brings it over Azzi’s body and buckles it.

“Dear god,” Azzi whispers. Paige smells good.

“Relax,” Paige says, taking her mumblings for nervousness. “You can’t possibly mess up that bad.”

Azzi frowns. “How do you know that? I could be the worst driver you’ve ever met.”

“I doubt it,” Paige tells her. “I crashed the car the first time I took the test.”

Azzi stares at her. Then she starts the car.

“Right pedal is gas, left is brake,” Paige says. “You have to put the car in reverse to get out of the spot, and then press lightly on the gas.”

“Right,” Azzi says, and moves the gear stick accordingly before pressing on the gas. The car lurches forward, coming to a jerky stop right before hitting the curb in front of them, Azzi’s blood draining entirely from her face.

“So, that was actually drive,” Paige says calmly, one hand braced on the window. “Reverse is lower.”

Once Azzi gets used to the controls, they manage to go in large bumpy circles around the parking lot.

“How did you fail the second time?” Azzi asks, carefully executing another terrible turn.

“Try to stay on the right side,” Paige says, unbothered by the possible damage Azzi is inflicting on her car. “I almost hit a stop sign. They got really mad about that one.”

“I would be making so much fun of you over this if I wasn’t so tense right now,” Azzi informs her. "Remind me to do it later."

“Looking forward to it- make sure you’re slowing down before you turn.”

“What about the third time?” Azzi says. She presses too hard on the brake, and the car nearly comes to a full stop in the middle of her next turn.

Paige seems to be pouting, by the sound of her voice. Azzi debates taking her eyes off the road long enough to check. “I waited almost a full year before taking it the third time. I practiced basically everyday. It went so well, the instructor was telling me I was one of the best drivers he’d tested that year.”

Azzi snickers. “And?“

“And on the way into the test center parking lot,” Paige says, “I hit the curb. Automatic fail. They wouldn’t even let me test at that center anymore, I had to go out of the city. Never trusted a driving instructor since.”

Azzi gives up on trying to hold back and bursts out laughing. To her surprise, the car doesn’t immediately crash.

“You’re laughing,” Paige says, and her face is stony, but Azzi can hear the smile in her voice. “I share my deep, personal, insecurities with you, and you’re laughing at me.”

Azzi shakes her head, small giggles still escaping her. “Those poor test administrators, you must have made them miserable.”

She can imagine it very easily, a smaller, angrier Paige, marching into a testing center with the energy of a Marine off to combat. The thought makes her snort with laughter.

“You look pretty when you laugh,” Paige says, and it’s that soft, honest voice, so rare to hear from her. Azzi’s laughter breaks off as she turns to look at her, captivated by that gentle sincerity, so unexpected from this girl, so sweet to hear.

“Az- the brakes!”

The car rolls over a curb and comes to a slamming halt right before a small tree, the branches brushing the windshield, leaves already fallen off in the winter cold.

She called me Az, she thinks, and presses her forehead into the steering wheel and smiles- a small giddy smile, just for herself

#pazzi fics #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #wcbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

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defnotriri · 1 month ago

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"the man who can't be moved"

|| PRO!Katsuki B. x reader

UNEDITED / UNREVISED

pt. 1

A couple days passed before you got a reply back from the number. You were sitting alone in a cafe with your drink. You were waiting for a friend but he got on his train a bit late.

You thought maybe the number was disabled. Or maybe he still has it on a different phone that he doesn't use. No reply meant it just wasn't meant to be. If you reached out in his dms, that would be doing too much.

You took a sip of your coffee and suddenly your phone buzzed. You were shocked when you saw the number.

You sighed, I guess it really was your destiny. Then suddenly a broad figure sat at the empty table near you. He was wearing a jacket and had his hood on which was weird. You also noticed he had one of your favorite pastries.

"Can I use that napkin?" The man asked pointing at your unused napkin. You tell him of course and hand it to him. Then you pointed at his pastry.

"that use to be my favorite while I was dating this guy." You say and smile at the memories. Whenever you guys would go out, Katsuki would always get you one of your favorite things.

"really? what happened to him" The hooded figured asked.

"he finally achieved his dream, I'm so proud of him." You let out a low chuckle.

"and you're just watching from the sidelines?"

"well its all I can do, we're just not to meant to be." You shrug at the question. You wonder if you're a stalker.

"He's engaged but I don't know- I texted his old number. I told myself if he didn't reply or if someone else did, it wasn't meant to be." You sigh taking another sip.

"Wow. what a way to home wreck." The guy chuckled and you noticed he didn't even touch his food yet. You were about to say something when he gave you your tissue back.

You were going to give it back saying you didn't want his used napkin when you saw writing on it. You straightened it a bit to see what it was. It was a bunch of numbers. Was he just talking to you because he was interested?

"Im so sorry, sir. You're really nice but I'm not interested-" You turn your head to look at him and you finally see his face. Bright ruby red eyes staring back at you with blonde peeking from his hood.

"oh sorry, must've got the wrong impression." His face doesn't react. He carries the same yearning face while talking. Your stomach churns and you're unsure of what to do.

"it's arranged, by the way." He breaks the silence and you hear a platter being placed on your table. He's giving you your favorite treat once again.

"what?" You snap out your trance.

"we're only engaged for our families. The hag wanted me to get married and wouldn't stop nagging me. Round face was one of the only people I barely tolerate" He speaks and suddenly your hands are sweating and your throat is dry. The words are stripped from your mouth.

"why'd you leave when I needed you the most." He finally gets to ask the big question after years of wondering.

"I- um.. I guess I just realized I was too weak willed to become a hero." You played with your fingers and looked anywhere but his face. Yet you could still feel those red eyes burning through you.

"I didn't care if you became a hero or not. I just wanted you."

"I don't know- I just thought I was holding you back, Katsuki."

"You were the only thing pushing me forward." He said with more of a begging tone. Like he was desperate for something. Like he was desperate for you. You did the only thing you could imagine and you hugged him.

He hugged you back, a hand around your hip and one behind your head. His grip was tight and he kissed your head. You could feel him shaking, too scared to let go. Worried if he did you would leave him again.

You thought your destiny would be away from each other but no matter what, you two will always find your way back to each other. Like a string connecting you two together.

TAGLIST: @rednicotine @delshmel @rory-52 @itsjustapumpkin @cumsluut @d4rlinxs @ilovesoupp @idontwannatalkrn1 @katsuisbaby @bri-licious08 @raelikesdinosaurs @dragonictales

hi so sorry if I got ur tag wrong or smth im to lazy to double check them or if the link is wrong lol

#fluff #x reader #angst #my hero academia #my hero x reader #angst with a happy ending #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha smau #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo imagine #red string of fate #red string theory

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melancholy-of-nadia · 9 months ago

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infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary: Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings: weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective.

Known as Agust D.

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat.

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is.

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving.

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below.

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives.

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?"

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head.

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit. Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment.

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.”

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.”

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him.

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move.

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance.

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.”

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips.

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

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