#thanks for the ask!!! i really appreciate it ^_^

[gothicfied]

can you write a squid game fic or head cannons of other characters finding out the reader is struggling with self harm? If so, thank you and I understand it is a sensitive topics and may be uncomfortable to write.

Squid Game season 2 characters x reader who struggles with sh

Featuring: Thanos / Player 230, Se-mi / Player 380, Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Park Min-su / Player 125, Kim Jun-hee / Player 222

(Trigger) Warnings: Mention/Talk about sh, depression, and things of this nature, this is comfort/angst, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Summary: Basically what the ask says

A/N: hey! I hope this is what you imagined, sorry if some of these are ooc😞🙏

Thanos / Player 230

જ⁀➴ Before he really knew, he'd constantly make your life a living hell, basically making fun of your shyness. He'd make certain comments to which he knew you wouldn't react to or would try to persuade you to vote in favor of the game containing.

જ⁀➴ You'd constantly tell him off and to leave you alone. It didn't really help, though. Thanos would just sit down next to you and talk your ear off about what he wanted to do with that prize money.

જ⁀➴ When you stood up to leave, rollung your eyes at him, he grabbed you by your wrist.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thanos blurted out, giving you an offended glare. "You know, it's really rude to just leave a conversation like that." When you tried to get out of his grip, your sleeves rode up your arm, revealing scars you weren't proud of or wanted him to see. When you realized it, he did too, immediately letting go of you.

જ⁀➴ Since Thanos knew what it meant to struggle with mental health he did actually leave you alone for now. But, after the next game, he approached you again and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry about yesterday." he said, patting you on the back.

જ⁀➴ He related to you in a way, but didn't want to ask you about what went on in your private life. Now you just appreciated that he seemingly didn't overstep any boundaries anymore and even checked up from you every now and then.

Se-mi / Player 380

જ⁀➴ You and her had been a duo ever since she came up to you and complimented your looks. Even if you denied it or not, she'd repeat it multiple times, winning you over with her charm quickly.

જ⁀➴ You two had the same mindset on a lot of things, originally voting 'O', thinking you were able to survive one more lousy game. That game was a death scare. Nothing about it was funny anymore. You appreciated your life too much these days to die like this.

જ⁀➴ When the second favor didn't go your way, both Se-mi and you now voting 'X', you felt helpless. One night, the two of you were sitting on her bed, just talking about your past and how you got to this point in the first place. While Se-mi was more secluded, only telling you that 'there are so much worse things she had to face when she got out' you trusted her enough to tell her about a sensitive time in your life.

"I'm not really secretive about this anymore," you pushed your sleeves up, revealing faded scars along your forearm, "but yeah. It was all pretty fucked up. The whole debt thing didn't make it any better." Se-mi looked at you with raised eyebrows, her fingers tracing the lines on your wrists. "I knew you were strong. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."

જ⁀➴ She put in double the work to protect you — She just wanted you to start a better life with that money and be happy, free from debt and all of it.

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju noticed from the start that you were more secluded, more prone to cry, panicked easily. It was clear to her that you were struggling with this situation, perhaps even more than that. She made it her task to help you as much as she could, comfort you and keep you close to her and her group.

જ⁀➴ You'd often rant to her and tell her what bothered you after she reassured her she'd take care of anything possible. Hyun-ju was the anker you needed in this shithole and you just appreciated her very much. Everything she did seemed to be out of genuine interest and not just to gain your trust and abuse it.

જ⁀➴ Accidentally, Hyun-ju did catch a glimpse of the scars you were so desperate to hide. She didn't mention it, feeling like it wasn't her place to comment on it. Her heart did break for you, though.

જ⁀➴ From then on, she made sure to speak softer to you and distract you from all the horror around you.

Hyun-ju hugged you tightly against her chest, her arms engulfing your figure. "Tonight things could get a bit scary," she mumbled into your hair while she rested her face against your head, "I just want you to know now rather than find out later. I'll keep you safe, you know that." You just nodded, reciprocating the hug after a few moments.

Nam-gyu / Player 124

જ⁀➴ When he found out, as you didn't make the effort to hide them or anything, he did refrain from provoking you in any way. Nam-gyu related, as he considered his drug use not to be the best thing he could do to his body.

જ⁀➴ Both of you hung around in the same group, since Thanos really wanted you on his team, constantly giving you compliments and flirting with you. It annoyed him to a degree, scoffing everytime Thanos tried to talk to him about how pretty you were, how much he wanted you, give you the world. In Nam-gyu's opinion, he didn't get you.. didn't get what you went through, at all.

જ⁀➴ One evening before lights out, the two of you were teasing each other about something and laughed together — something that rarely occured amongst the other players.

"Want me to show you something?" Nam-gyu asked you, leaning a bit closer. Chuckling, you replied with a 'mhm' and watched him pull up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing skin tracks along the inside of his elbow. You raised an eyebrow: "Oh?" You took his arm to get a closer look, tracing his skin with your fingertips. "Well, we all have our stories, huh?" The man nodded at your wrists, making you look at them too, like you didn't already know what he meant.

જ⁀➴ The both of you grew close to each other, much to his amuse. He was a junkie, you were depressed.. it's like a disaster in the making. But, you didn't care. He was sweet and weirdly kind to you — Not in the way Thanos was. You made sure to hug Nam-gyu a few times more after that, in case it could be the last timd you'd get to do that.

Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

જ⁀➴ You were glad to be on Gi-hun's team from the start, since Dae-ho and you got along really well. As a former Marine, which he was super proud of obviously, he declared he'd protect you immediately after you met, making you laugh.

જ⁀➴ He was kind, strong and funny, but maybe a bit oblivious at times.

During the six-legged pentathlon, you two sat next to each other, cheering the current active team on. Yelling and screaming filled the area as they crossed the finish lind just in time, making everyone erupt in cheers. Dae-ho immediately hugged you with joy, excited to see the five live another day, at least. After pulling back witha laugh, you gave him a small high five with your sleeve rolled back. When noticing scars along your wrist and forearm, the former marine gasped pretty loudly. "What?" you asked with genuine concerning, fearing something was wrong with you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dae-ho pulled your sleeve back over your arm. "Dude," he looked at you with wide eyes "it's fine." You needed to hold back a laugh.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho felt so bad to havs accidentally seen something you've been struggling with, that he couldn't help but apologize profusely. You repeated to him that it wasn't a big deal for you and that you were working on this problem, but he didn't stop nonetheless.

જ⁀➴ You thought it was cute how much he seemed to care for you and how often he came up to you just to tell you that he appreciated you. And Dae-ho did, he didn't just say that to make you feel better.

Park Min-su / Player 125

જ⁀➴ Min-su is just shy over all. When he noticed it, he wouldn't say a thing. He'd be dead silent, maybe even a bit scared to talk to you. He was just scared he'd make it awkward, somehow hinting that he knew about your scars. Min-su was just someone who overthought a lot and even you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ After a bit, it annoyed you — The sudden lack of his presence next to you, the fact that he wouldn't properly talk to you anymore, it was all just weird and confusing. So, you decided to ask him directly.

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice wasn't stern, but Min-su could tell that you were kind of upset. "Ah, no-" he quickly replied back, shaking his head, "it's really not you!" He looked at you with his typical innocent face, making it hard for you to keep pressing him about this matter. "Then what is it, seriously?"

જ⁀➴ He explained what he saw and said that he just felt so sorry. Well, at least he didn't speak to you because he didn't want to hurt or upset you, which was really thoughtful.

જ⁀➴ You'd expect that he would now be the one to comfort you or something, but no it was the complete opposite. Min-su seemed to worried about you and kept asking you how you were feeling or if anything bothered you. You had to keep reassuring him that those times were in the past and that he didn't have to be so worried.

જ⁀➴ It was really cute though, so you let it slide.

Kim Jun-hee / Player 222 (implied fem!reader)

જ⁀➴ Since Jun-hee and you were pretty close in age, you two had found each other right away. You kept telling her that she needed more protection, or at least an ally like you, on her side sincs she was pregnant. You weren't really serious about that, just chuckling when bringing it up, but ut definitely made Jun-hee trust you a lot more. It was a critical situation she was in and she was glad to have you by her side.

જ⁀➴ You even banged on the door in the middle of the night to make the guards take her to the bathroom when she was to shy to do it herself.

As ths pink guard brought you to the womens bathroom, Jun-hee held onto you, clearly being in pain. A few minutes later, you were washing your hands and tried to fix yourself up, looking a bit disgusted in the mirror. "What is it?" Jun-hee emerged from one of the stalls, chuckling. "Man, I look like a damn zombie. Look what this place has done to us." Instead of getting a reply, you noticed that she was staring at your arms, at your scars. You had taken your jacket off for convenience and kind of forgot about them. "Oh, I'm sor-" Jun-hee interrupted you, "No! No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stared like that!"

જ⁀➴ Obviously everyone had their struggles, but now her own kind of seemed insignificant next to yours. You were doing so much for her and she didn't even know that you were struggling. She should've thought of that.

જ⁀➴ When voicing that thought to you, you felt bad that you made her feel like that. With a hug, it was all sorted out. Jun-hee cared deeply for you and she could tell that you cared for her like that, too. It was nice to know that someone had your back in a place like this.

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna

chapter 7: sukunas roommate

summary: sukuna brings you to his apartment so things don’t escalate with gojo and geto, there you meet his roommate.

* ooc, toji is shameless, crack, MDNI (a bit suggestive), NOT proof read 💔, lowkey i just am making the plot as i go sorry if it doesn’t make sense anymore i like adding random plot twists 💔

masterlist. prev. next

“um. if you don’t mind me asking… why is your roommates contact image frankie from shark tales?” you said between breathless giggles. you were too giggly to worry if the text you sent from sukunas phone sounded like sukuna or not. from the way he texted you, you assumed dry and cold. you hoped you pulled it off.

you were a giggling mess. this was so stupid. this huge, scary guy gave you his phone- willingly- to text his roommate you’d be coming over, and his profile picture is frankie from shark tales??? is sukuna secretly really funny?

your giggles seemed to be contagious, as sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle too. only chuckle, never actually laugh. you didn’t know why.

“he kinda looks like him. it’s a joke my friend uraume and i have.”

uraume? you’ve heard that name before. was it from the argument between shoko and geto? you think so.

that would make sense, actually.. you began to realize, your five brain cells working together to piece that shoko wasn’t the one to get sukuna to beat up gojo- but uraume.

you just giggled in response, looking down at the phone with curiosity by how much this man- toji, was blowing up his phone.

“should i-“ you were about to ask if you should respond to him, but sukuna was quick to shake his dead. “don’t.”

you nodded, biting your lip once more. you didn’t know how to respond to him, unsure if he was mad at you.

you took once glance at his stoic face, a flash of something mean in his eyes. for the millionth time this night, you curled into yourself, self conscious it was your doing to make him so mad.

sukuna is always sensing your discomfort. it made you feel bad for being so sensitive, and when he turned to give you a small, reassuring smile, your worry drowned away.

you were curious to what toji was saying, the phone was still buzzing with notifications from his number… was toji mad that sukuna was bringing you home on such short notice? or- oh no- what if he thought you two were hooking up?!

you must’ve been blushing furiously, because sukuna asked you if you were hot. you lied, telling him you were as an excuse, and without second thought he turned the ac on full blast.

you sat in silence for the rest of the ride, comfortable silence. you were fiddling with your phone, anxiously waiting for a text from gojo or geto, but it never came, much to your satisfaction.

when you arrived, sukuna stepped out of the car. “stay in here for a moment, i just have to call my roommate.” you nodded, noticing the way he locked his car after departing to call toji. did he seriously trust you to not steal his car right now? not that you were going to, but wow, he held a lot of faith in you!

sukuna groaned as he texted toji, a stressed hand running down his face. no way this douche just asked if she was single. he grumbled to himself as he hit toji’s contact and called him.

“yo,” toji spoke, his speech muffled around whatever food he was chewing.

“don’t be weird,” sukuna immediately said, voice cold. “i’m bringing her up now.”

before toji could retort, sukuna hung up. he didn’t want you to think he was taking too long.

moving to the passenger side door, sukuna unlocked his car and took your hand gently, “you okay?” he asked, voice gruff, as if he wasn’t sure how to sound friendly.

“mhm.” you nodded, “thank you for letting me stay tonight,” you smiled sheepishly, taking his hand with an appreciative smile and stepping out.

sukuna had to look away to hide his creeping blush.

“my roommates name is toji.” he began a conversation as he lead you up the complex’s multitude of stairs. “he’s fucking stupid, just ignore him.”

you just giggled in response, nervous yet oddly excited to meet this toji.

when you reached his door, sukuna opened the door for you. you didn’t expect him to be such a gentleman, considering his appearance. maybe it was wrong to judge a book by its cover.

“hey,” a surprisingly deeper voice called out, though it held more emotion than sukunas did.

“hi,” you waved shyly when you caught a glimpse of his roommate. you remember him from your psychology class. sukuna was right, he does kinda look like frankie from shark tales. you stifled a giggle.

toji immediately cracked a smirk at your shy behavior. it felt somewhat predatory… you didn’t know if you should be scared or turned on.

sukunas arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in the moment toji’s eyes wandered over your figure. he shot toji a warning glare, as if to silently say, she’s off limits.

but toji didn’t play fair, sukuna knew that.

“you brought home a pretty lil thing,” toji spoke mischievously, clearly trying to egg sukuna on. you blushed furiously at the comment, unsure if you should say thank you or stay silent.

“i told you toji, it’s not like that.” sukuna sighed, his grip around your waist tightening.

“looks like it,” toji whistled, glancing between your waist and his hand.

you shook your head, stammering slightly as you spoke, “no, no. he’s just… helping me out, tonight. i won’t be here again, i’m sorry.”

sukuna was about to scold you for apologizing, telling you there’s no need to and he invited you, but toji beat him to it.

“don’t apologize. i’d like to see you here again, under different circumstances.” he shot you a wink that had your knees weak.

you didn’t want to question what those ‘different circumstances’ were, but you were sure he was flirting.

sukuna growled, again. that same noise that had you both terrified and aroused.

“don’t say that shit,” he groaned, hitting toji’s shoulder. sukuna took your hand, practically yanking you along with him.

“like i said, ignore him.” he spoke, you could practically hear the way he gritted his teeth. he looked… jealous.

you just nodded, still bright red as you hummed along. “mhm.”

“do you need to take a shower?” sukuna asked, leading you to the bathroom. you smiled appreciatively, “that would be nice.”

though, walking into the men’s shared bathroom, you realized it would in fact not be nice. six in one? was this even legal? this couldn’t be fda approved.

you desperately wished you had your strawberry tree hut body scrub, your precious shampoo and conditioner, and at least a bar of soap! you’d also like some exfoliator and moisturizer, but they weren’t needs.

you have sukuna a ‘really?’ look, and, for the first time that night, he actually laughed.

“okay, order whatever you need.” he said, tossing you his phone as if it belonged to you.

“huh?” you blinked, eyes wide as you stared at him incredulously.

“my cards linked, just get what you need.” he spoke casually, as if this was normal.

you were about to reject his offer, tell him you could pay, but toji (of course) came in to ruin the moment.

“oh doll? you still showering? can i join?” he spoke, his voice low and flirtatious as he didn’t wait for a response, simply waltzing in. you didn’t know what made you blush more, the nickname or his obvious intentions of wanting to fuck.

sukuna looked like he was going to kill a man. that man being toji.

“ohhh i see, you’re already showering with sukuna. i’m sure you can make room for three.”

you choked on a laugh. even if you were interested (which, maybe you were. a little). the thought of both of these men in the same dinky shower together was hilarious. no way would there be room with even just the two of them, nevermind you.

“what’s so funny, dollface?”

“toji.”

sukunas voice had an edge to it you only heard once. when you told him about gojo and getos plans to intercept them in the car.

toji looked a bit taken aback, a scowl on his face now, mirroring sukunas.

“you’re no fun.” toji said after sizing his roommate up, leaving the bathroom, not without slamming the door. how petty.

you bit your lower lip, glancing between sukuna and the door that was just slammed in their faces.

“sorry about him.” sukuna spoke up, sighing. “buy whatever you want. don’t worry about how much it is.”

you frowned, “i’m going to send you the money back either way. besides, i use a lot of products, so it’ll hurt your wallet if i didn’t pay you back.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood after whatever the fuck just happened.

“i’d rather it hurt my wallet than yours. just get whatever you usually use, i don’t care.”

and with that, sukuna left the bathroom. now you were all alone in two strangers apartment, stuck in the bathroom with one of their phones.

you didn’t know how someone could be so nice yet so cold at the same time. it was like he was a walking contradiction. was he upset with toji?

you could tell him you didn’t care, because truthfully you didn’t. yea, it definitely flustered you a bit (a lot), but it’s not like it made you feel unsafe.

you looked for your typical items, soap, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. sure, you’d love to have a body scrub, exfoliator, and moisturizer too, but you didn’t want to kill this poor guys wallet.

you opted for cheaper options, though still finding things with your signature strawberry scent.

you felt a bit guilty as you checked out for delivery. you should probably pay back sukuna some how- for giving you a ride, a place to stay for the night, and free shower products.

when you exited the bathroom to return sukunas phone, he was nowhere to be seen. neither was roommate, toji.

this was even more awkward than hiding in their bathroom, you thought.

was it rude to sit on their couch uninvited? you wondered, plopping yourself down regardless. you noticed netflix was still open, whoever was watching was halfway through the first season of squid games.

you fiddled with sukunas phone, impatiently waiting for either of the two boys to come back so you didn’t feel so awkward. though a notification from your phone made you jump, quickly settling down sukunas phone to check yours.

guys this photo is genuinely the funniest thing i’ve ever seen i love it so much

tag list

@starmapz @corvid007 @estella-novella @zezedoesshit @beautifulwitchcandy @jinxiewritings @b0nez9 @pixiedustaddictsblog @nightlysunn @nanamineedstherapy @lvingd3adg0rl @etsuniiru @paradisestarfishh @yanelis-world @str4wb3rryc4k333 @indiewritesxoxo @havkjhdecs @tenthmilo @yunho-leeknow @polarbvnny @gradmacoco @anonnieghost @tyunswifey @ex1acy @t4naiis @shizukaay0 @ivydoesit23 @animereaderinsertwriter @des-todoroki

[basketball-lesbians]

Stiff

summary: Paige is insecure about the internet's assessment of her strap game, and Azzi reminds her she has nothing to worry about.

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

contents: smut, fluff, pwp, strap use, oral sex, fingering (once again really its just smut i cannot lie... it gets lowkey disgustingly filthy in a few places. its sweet though, they're idiots in love!)

wordcount: 9076

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait between freefall ch 1 and this upload- I got super busy between holidays and personal stuff going on, but I should be more consistent with uploads now. This fic was supposed to be shorter and... then it turned into 9k of filth. No questions at this time. Also, I had a few people ask, so I’m starting to do taglists- so do me a favor and if you’re interested in being included, just comment or message me and I’ll make sure to get you on there for future uploads. Thanks for reading and I hope y’all enjoy!

Theyre positioned on the couch of Paige's apartment in a way that's typical for them; Azzi sitting up with her legs out in front of her, crossed at the ankles while she reads- and Paige strewn out sideways across the other portion of the sectional, her head in Azzi's lap as she scrolls on her phone.

Azzi's right hand falls cyclically to play with the other girls hair in between flipping pages in an effort to keep her content while her focus is split between both her and her book.

Light streams through the window pleasantly, casting a golden glow on everything it touches, and the apartment is quiet- the other girls having gone out to a farmers market earlier in the day and leaving them alone together for the first time in what felt like weeks outside of spending the night in each others’ rooms.

The peaceful sunday afternoon silence they've struck up is rudely interrupted when Paige suddenly groans, rolling onto her side as she drops her phone away from herself like it just offended her, sending it bouncing onto the next couch cushion over. Azzi lets her book drop below her eyeline to look at the other girl, brows raised.

"Um... what was that about?" She asks tentatively, slow to engage for fear of further escalating her already always high energy and cementing the quiet moment they'd just been in as over.

Paige shifts closer to her, wrapping her arms around the younger girls’ waist and burying her face against her stomach, the loose blonde hair left out of her bun to frame her face tickling at the section of midriff exposed by the cropped camisole top the other girl wore under a grey sweat set.

Azzi sighs, setting her book down with the bookmark placed carefully to mark her place, bringing her hands to the girl in her lap fully- one moving to card through her hair and the other to rub her back.

"Hey. What's wrong, honey?" She asks gently, hands soothing in their slow motions. Paige nestles closer to her, holding her tight, her nose brushing the warm skin just above the waistband of Azzi's sweats. Azzi pretends the sensation doesn’t make her feel a little warmer.

"The internet, bro," The blonde finally grumbles, voice muffled where her face is pressed into her girlfriends' torso. Worry rises in Azzi's chest at that, her hands stilling.

"What? What happened?" She asks, pulling at Paige's shoulder to get her to sit up and talk to her. Paige frowns, wrinkling her nose as she obliges the prompt, rolling over to look up at the younger girls’ face from her lap.

Her expression is pathetic- eyebrows drawn together, blue eyes big and lips curled into a pout. Azzi can't help but chuckle at the sight, despite her mind drawing up worst case scenarios like it so often did. Paige groans at Azzi finding humor in the moment, drawing her arm over her face to hide herself in embarrassment.

Azzi smiles fully now, the silly nature of Paige's pouting easing the worry in the back of her mind. She takes in the half-obscured sight in her lap and lets it soothe her, appreciating every visible detail- the sharpness of her jaw, the length of her eyelashes as they rest against her cheeks, the prominence of her nose and cheekbones, the pretty shade of pink that adorns her soft lips.

"Babe, come on. What is it?" She asks, pulling gently at Paige's pale arm.

"You're gonna laugh," Paige whines, bringing her arm down from her face only to draw both of them up over her chest defensively, almost like a little kid would. Azzi rolls her eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Oh my god, Paige. What is the matter?" She repeats, playful agitation biting at the corners of her tone despite the fact that her dimples give her underlying amusement away.

The older girl sighs dramatically from where she's set in Azzi's lap, waiting in silence for a five count before opening one eye to peep and see if Azzi is still looking, expectant for an explanation. She is. Paige sighs.

"They're sayin' I got stiff hips," She mutters, avoiding Azzi's gaze as the admission slips past her lips. Azzi’s eyes narrow as she furrows her eyebrows confusedly, having not heard her fully.

"They're saying what?" She asks, leaning closer slightly to be able to hear her better. Paige whines, shifting her posture antsily.

"Stiff hips, Az. They're sayin' I got stiff hips." She overenunciates, eyes becoming wide as she explains. Azzi holds her gaze, eyebrows high to match Paige's energy. She holds the expression for as long as she can before breaking, a laugh erupting out of her.

Paige groans yet again, rolling away from her girlfriend like she's trying to slink off the couch and into a puddle on the floor to avoid further embarrassment. Azzi reaches for her, stilling her progress with her hand around the other girls' wrist.

"Oh come on, you big baby," She chides, pulling her back into her lap, cradling her head as she shifts.

"Like they would know, anyway," She dismisses, hands coming up to grab her face, thumb brushing over the the hinge of her jaw as she presses a kiss to her forehead. Paige grins at that, sly and lopsided, holding Azzi's gaze like she's trying to be sure she heard it right.

"Aw, nah?" She smirks up at her, that stupid expression she reserved just for her girlfriend slowly spreading across her face.

Azzi hums. "Unless there's something you're not telling me," She teases, fingers toying with the collar of her crewneck, brushing her collarbones.

Paige smiles dopily, lifting her head and cupping the sides of Azzi's face, pulling her down gently just enough to connect their lips. It's slow and sweet and just a little bit wet, and Paige thinks about all the times they've kissed before and how it's never felt any less perfect than it did the first time.

Seven years later, and she still can't get over the feeling of how Azzi's lips feel against hers.

She shifts to sit up, the movement a little awkward on the way, and comes to settle upright next to the other girl, dominant hand settling just below her hairline on the back of her neck to ease her closer. She moans quietly into the kiss, unable to help herself, and then deepens it- leaning forward and pushing Azzi along with her, putting her on her back.

Azzi's hands meet over the back of the other girls’ neck as she settles over her, her hips snug against the younger girls' with their legs slotted between each other. Azzi bites gently at Paige's lip, and Paige has to choke back a groan as she gives into the chase, letting her tongue dart out to run along the other girls' bottom lip.

Azzi hums before slipping her tongue into her girlfriend's mouth, finding hers and running against it before sucking at it gently, drawing it out. Suddenly, they're pulling apart just enough for Paige to speak, still close enough that their lips to brush when she does.

"F'real though. Y'think I'm stiff?" She asks, her blue eyes full of conviction and concern as they meet Azzi’s once again. Now it’s Azzi’s turn to groan as she rolls her eyes beneath the blonde, much to Paige's dismay.

"Hey! I'm serious, dude," Paige pleads, looking at her girlfriend intently, impatiently awaiting a response. Azzi stays silent, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she tilts her head in consideration, hands still interlocked behind the other girls’ head.

"I mean..."

Paige whines, dropping her head to Azzi's chest. Although her intent was pure, she's pleased when her face nestles perfectly between the other girls' breasts, soft warm flesh surrounding her features. She could die here, she thinks.

"Oh come on, I was joking," Azzi says, trying to soften the blow. Her fingers run slowly along the back of her neck, wandering up to toy with the loose hair at the base of her bun.

"S'not funny," Paige defends weakly, speech muffled by the soft skin surrounding her face. Azzi watches her, evaluating for a moment, and then makes up her mind, narrowing her eyes and sucking her teeth as she does.

She sits up, climbing out from under Paige, and Paige looks at her incredulously, already primed to put on a dramatic show of great offense over the fact that the other girl would leave her from their comfortable position on the couch in such a vulnerable time.

She rises to her feet, turning as she outstretches her arm in front of her to hold her hand out, signalling for the other girl to grab it. Paige stares blankly from her place on the couch, unsure of what's happening.

"Come on," Azzi prompts, opening and closing her offered hand to add emphasis to her words. Paige's eyebrows furrow, her hair still tousled from their brief rendezvous seconds ago.

"Huh?" She replies, clueless, neck craning forward and one side of her lip curling as she asks to add emphasis.

Azzi sighs, stepping closer and taking both of Paige's hands into hers. She draws her upright into a sitting position, stepping into the space between where her feet are planted.

This close, Azzi can feel the blonde’s breath tickling at her stomach, her baggy sweatshirts’ zipper fixed low to allow her abs to still show- a decision she made deliberately when she’d put it on this morning.

Paige looks up at where her girlfriend stands above her and can’t help but think that it feels wrong to be in this position and not have her hands free to be able to wrap her arms around the other girl- to slip under her sweatshirt and feel her skin, to wander down and grab at her ass, to pull her into her lap.

"I said," She repeats, eyes locked to Paige's as she presses kisses over the other girls' knuckles, big brown eyes watching carefully with a glint of fire in them as she does it. The blonde holds her breath, lips slightly parted as her gaze drags from Azzi’s eyes to glance at the pink fullness of her lips and back.

"Come," Kiss. "Here," Kiss. "Then." Kiss.

Paige watches cautiously, a feeling that’s a healthy balance of being turned on and a little scared settling in her chest.

"I cant lie... I'm lost, what are we-" Azzi rolls her eyes again, dimples popping as she makes an exasperated face while stepping back, pulling as she goes to bring the taller girl up to stand.

"You're worried about having stiff hips, yeah?" She asks, her voice thick with a flirty tone that the blonde swears wasn’t there only a moment ago.

Paige stands slowly, letting herself be pulled, shrugging and then slowly nodding as she waits for a point to be made. Azzi comes in closer, leaning into Paige’s frame, dropping her hands so that one can settle over her hip, the other on her chest.

Suddenly the blonde is acutely aware of all of the places she can feel the other girl- not the least of which being her leg that brushes against her own as her foot settles between where her own are set, eliminating nearly every bubble of space between them. Paige’s breath feels thick as she breathes out, trying to resist the urge to swallow as she feels the warmth of the other girl braced against her.

"So why don't you come prove it to me that you don't?" Azzi challenges, voice sultry and sweet as she looks up at her, and Paige's jaw almost drops.

Azzi could hold her own, sure. Their little spats and back-and-forth nature were cornerstones of their entire relationship- always had been. They wouldn't be Paige and Azzi without the playful dynamic they always seemed to keep up.

But she was only bold to a point- usually, and for years now, there was a clear line they'd found, a place between gearing up to sex and actually getting there, where Paige had almost always just naturally taken over- at least to initiate things.

It wasn't always that way, per se, but it definitely was more often than not. Between that and the fact that Paige had basically been obsessed with her since she was 16, giving her anything she ever wanted at any indication she wanted it- in moments like these, Azzi had a way of catching her completely off guard.

"Wha- f'real?" Paige asks, frozen in place at the proposition. It was almost always Paige prompting, Paige setting the foundation, Paige leading- Azzi wasn't any less passionate about being intimate, she just liked to be led. And it worked well, because Paige liked to pull her along.

Azzi so openly putting it all on the table on a random Sunday afternoon, (and especially when she had been nose deep in a book less than 10 minutes before) was definitely not something Paige had really anticipated happening. Azzi quirks an eyebrow, digging her heels in.

"Unless you don't think you're up to the task?" She asks, voice donning a kind of feining innocence she only ever put on when she was being especially bratty.

Paige's face flushes at that, never one to give up a challenge- and she's on her feet, grabbing Azzi by the wrist and dragging her to her bedroom, determined to prove herself. Azzi giggles, pleased by the continuation of her perpetual ability to get what she wants from the blonde, and follows, only spurred on by her girlfriends' reaction.

Paige pushes the door closed behind them as soon as they enter the room and immediately grabs for the other girl, pulling her flush against herself by the waist. Azzi leans into the contact as their lips meet, hands coming up to settle on Paige’s chest as she deepens the kiss.

Azzi arches into the way the other girl is holding her, and Paige slips her hands up the back of her sweatshirt, any excuse to feel more of her. She steps them back towards the bed, slowing as she approaches to let Azzi get a feel for where the bed is before they go tumbling onto it.

They do, and Paige is quick to keep things progressing, catching herself with her hands to keep from falling over Azzi and then leaning back on her heels to pull her shirt over her head. Azzi's eyes track the movement carefully, watching her arms flex with the motion and dropping to look at her abs before darting back to her face when she realizes she's been caught.

Ordinarily, Paige would stop and tease, but today she's too eager. Instead, she reaches down, fingers grasping the zipper of Azzi’s sweatshirt, and drags it down, opening access to warm skin beneath it that’s been teasing her all day. She leans back in and nestles into the crook of Azzi's neck, dropping kisses against the soft warm skin there, their bare stomachs pressing against each other with the movement.

Azzi hums as her hands run up Paige’s back, keeping the other girl close and feeling the subtle flexing of the muscle there as she turns her head, kissing the side of Paige’s face where it’s nestled into her neck before pulling her back and recentering her above herself to reconnect their lips.

Paige shifts so one hand can come up between them to Azzi's stomach, pushing under her skin-tight tank top and bunching the small amount of fabric up onto her chest, revealing her abs and breasts. Azzi’s breath hitches at the motion, watching as her hands roam, admiring the contrast of the paleness of her skin against the deepness of her own, blood rushing to her head as she watches Paige go to work against her.

The blonde kisses down the younger girls’ neck and shoulders eagerly, nipping at her collarbones before making her way down to her chest and taking a pebbled nipple into her mouth. As she leans into her, the knee she has slotted between Azzi's legs pushes against her, giving her friction closer to where she wants it, making the other girls' breath catch.

She revels in the way she feels Azzi's breathing change underneath her, feels her start to squirm as she switches sides to show its twin the same affection before letting up in favor of progressing further down her body.

Her skin is warm and soft and smells like vanilla as she kisses down her stomach- it's more intoxicating than anything else Paige has ever felt in her life. She gets to her waistband and is about to pull her sweats down when Azzi taps her shoulder to get her attention.

She pauses, looking up at her with tented eyebrows as she hovers in place. "Hm?"

Once she stills, Azzi reaches down and grabs her face by the chin, eyes hooded. Paige wets her lips as she holds the eye contact, trying to steel herself and not let on the way her boxers are getting uncomfortably damp beneath her sweats.

"C'mere," She whispers, and Paige is immediately thanking god that her roommates aren't home as she climbs back up to oblige her girlfriends' request.

Their lips collide, and before she really knows what's happening, Azzi is pulling her close, locking her arms around her back before shifting hard to roll them both over and straddle her waist. Paige's mouth subconsciously falls open the slightest bit when she’s put on her back, and Azzi can't help but smirk.

She straightens her back and grabs at the bunched up fabric of her camisole that Paige had so impatiently pushed out of her way, pulling it up and arching her back as it goes to help it over her head.

Beneath her, Paige swallows and fixes her hands on her hips tightly, trying not to touch like a child watching a cake being frosted- watching desperately with a watering mouth as she takes in the scene unfolding in front of her. Everything about what she sees, she's absolutely obsessed with: her skin, her toned stomach, her perfect chest, her strong arms and shoulders, the beautiful way her dark curls cascade over her shoulders. She's perfect. So, so perfect.

"Fuck, Az," She mutters, eyes wandering over her frame. Azzi almost feels shy for a second with the way she's being looked at, but she manages to cut her thought process off.

After all, even with all the people in the world who said unhinged shit about her girlfriend online, she was the only one who got to sit half-naked in her lap whenever she wanted. Not a lot of reason to feel self conscious about that.

Azzi leans forward, hands grabbing the other girls’ to push them up and against the mattress for her own balance as she closes the gap between them to kiss Paige’s neck. The taller girls' legs naturally come up to settle with her feet flat against the bed, her thighs just behind Azzi's ass, keeping her close.

Azzi hums as she presses kisses up Paige's jaw, messy and warm and creating a feeling in Paige's gut that's very hard to ignore. The feeling of having her in her lap- breasts bare and pressing into her chest, ass pressing into her as she shifts- paired with the feeling of her full lips kissing their way across her neck and shoulders, curls tickling with the movement as they brush against her skin, is nearly enough to make her brain short circuit.

Having her hands pinned is torture- she's dying to be able to touch her. She pushes her hips forward, few other options available, and Azzi breathes in sharply at the contact, drawing back just barely to ground herself.

"Mmm, gotta be patient baby," She chides, renewing her efforts in the space between her girlfriend's neck and shoulder.

Paige groans. She wasn't used to not being able to pivot things where she wanted- to control the pace and the acceleration of things.

"Thought I was tryna show you sum," She argues, fighting hard to keep any trace of how pathetic she feels out of her voice when she says it. Azzi hums, nipping at her earlobe.

"Why don't you, then?" She counters, and Paige wastes no time in pushing up with both her hips and hands to roll Azzi back over, reclaiming her position above her.

They're both slightly out of breath once they resettle, and Paige supports herself over Azzi, holding the eye contact and letting their breath mix together in the minuscule amount of space between them.

Paige is acutely aware of the heat settling low in her belly at the way Azzi looks at her. Azzi, equally bothered, is trying hard not to squirm as she watches her girlfriend wet her lips, the veins in her hands and arms more prominent than usual after her display of strength to flip them back over.

"You gonna behave and lemme have my way w'you, babygirl? Or y’still need to get some energy out?" She asks pointedly, and a surge of pride goes through her when she sees the way a flush creeps across Azzi's face, no argument making it's way past her lips for once.

Balance restored.

Her big brown eyes peer up at her with the neediest expression she thinks she might have ever seen, and it doesn't take much convincing after that to hurry along, her point proven.

"A'ight then. I gotchu, mama," She says, pressing a single kiss to her neck before standing, letting her hands come to her hips as she surveys across her bedroom.

"Where'd that fuckin' thing end up, anyway?" She asks, and Azzi giggles from the bed, eyes lingering on her bare stomach as she turns her body, looking around the room.

"Closet, right? Had to move it when KK came in to play playstation?" She asks, and Paige turns to her, smiling.

"My girl’s so smart." She praises, reaching out to pat her leg as she walks past the bed to the closet. Azzi rolls her eyes, a small smile on her face as she tracks her with her eyes, biting at her finger as she watches her saunter over to open the closet door, sweats clinging low on her hips, boxer line peeking out just barely.

Paige stoops down to dig through a specific shoe box amongst the many that live in the small space. She knows she shouldn't be as turned on by the sight as she is, but there's just something about the way she looks, her legs spread and her arms settled on her knees as she balances on the pads of her feet while rummaging through the closet, searching.

It takes long enough for Paige to finally find it that by the time she's turning from the closet, victorious and holding the toy high above her head, she’s almost surprised to find that Azzi’s still looking at her. She lets the toy fall to her side as she comes to kneel on the edge of the bed in front of the other girl.

"Hey," She says, nudging Azzi's nose with her own, as she sets the strap and harness down above her head on the bed, out of sight. Azzi smiles at her, and for a moment, nobody else in the world exists, brown eyes meeting blue, their breath combining in the small space between them.

"Hey, yourself," She returns, reaching above her head to grab for the toy. Paige chuckles, spreading her arms wide in a stretch as she stands back up. Azzi’s eyes trail over her figure, taking in the sight of her stance, the way her abs flexed with the movement.

"Was gonna ask if you changed your mind, you seemed like you were zonin' out over here," She jokes, and Azzi makes a face.

"Sounds to me like you're getting nervous," She taunts, bringing the contraption in front of her face to get a better look at it. Paige clicks her tongue, shaking her head.

"Whatever, bro," She dismisses, leaning in to press a kiss to Azzi's forehead, hand smoothing over her curls lovingly as she hovered there.

"You sure you still wanna?" She asks, softer now, and Azzi nods, her focus clearly elsewhere as she shifts the harness to one hand and reaches out to grab her by the hips to maneuver her closer.

"If I can remember how to get this to work," She jokes, and Paige smirks, going to grab it from her. “I got it.”Azzi pulls it away from her prying hands, scoffing at her lightly.

"You never even put it on in the first place, dummy. Take your pants off and c'mere, I can figure it out." Paige laughs at that, hands going to untie the drawstring that's tucked into her waistband.

"Yes ma'am," She replies, stepping out of her sweats and then bringing her boxers along with them not long after, dropping them to the floor in a way that's all too familiar for the younger girl- makes it a little bit harder to swallow, too.

Azzi beckons her forward, putting significant effort into focusing on what she’s doing and not getting distracted by the perfect shade of pink peeking out from her girlfriend’s mound- and reluctantly, Paige goes.

"Here, step into this," Azzi says, holding a portion of the harness open for her, her eyes lingering on her girlfriends' naked frame. Paige chuckles, putting a hand on Azzi's shoulder to stabilize herself as she does as she's told.

She didn't remember it feeling this awkward the last time. Then again, it had been a while since they'd used it last- they’d both been so busy that any time that they’d found as of late to love on each other was kept entirely to quick hands and eager mouths.

Azzi furrows her eyebrows as her fingers go to work, adjusting buckles and straightening straps. Paige watches her face intently, trying not to feel silly.

"Turn," The curly headed girl prompts, and Paige follows the instruction mindlessly, feeling slightly like a kid getting their winter coat put on by a parent before being allowed to go outside to play in the snow.

Azzi tugs a specific section and it finally tightens- a little too fast, pinching at Paige's skin as it comes flush with flesh. The blonde jumps, disregarding the adjustments happening as she shoves her fingers between the harness and her skin to create a protective barrier and sooth the sting.

"Ow, Azzi!" She protests, and Azzi's head snaps up to look at her, eyes full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, baby. It was an accident," She soothes, running her thumb over the area and leaning over to press a kiss to it.

With that, it's already forgotten, the harness finally settled snug to Paige’s hips. Paige nods, mostly to herself, pushing her fingers underneath the straps once more to adjust herself to be more comfortable- and then she’s coming around to the other side of the bed and grabbing Azzi by the tops of her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the bed with no warning, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Whoa, what are y-“ Paige shushes her, sinking to her knees, and loops her fingers under Azzi’s sweats, pulling them over her hips in one swift movement. Azzi watches the rushed movement with eager eyes, swallowing thickly while picking up her hips to help her tug them down.

Paige stoops down, and Azzi’s heart flutters in her chest as she starts to litter kisses on the insides of her thighs. The blonde is slow and intentional with her movements, arms coming to rest on the outside of Azzi’s spread knees as she sucks a purple mark into the other girls’ skin, soothing it with a swipe of her tongue and a chaste kiss afterward.

She continues to drop kisses as she moves up her thigh til she reaches her center, playing close attention to the subtle changes in Azzi’s breathing as she goes, and then slows, pressing a kiss to her clit through the thin cotton. Azzi lets out a breathy little gasp at the contact, neck craning to get a better view.

Paige presses another kiss, more pressure behind it than the last one, and then slips a little lower, repeating the motion. When she does, she finds the most perfect surprise waiting for her- Azzi’s completely soaked through the pretty purple panties she’s wearing.

“Oh my god, Azzi Jazlyn,” She remarks, looking up at the other girl with an amused look painted across her face. Azzi blushes, really blushes, and hides her face in her arm, a pouty little noise of protest falling from her lips at being mocked.

“Is it that serious?” Paige asks, tone dripping with sarcastic concern, and Azzi reaches down with the hand that isn’t obscuring her face to shove at Paige’s arm. The blonde just grins, shaking her head as she leans back and hooks her fingers under the waistband of the dampened fabric.

“Just teasin’, mama,” She soothes, voice husky as Azzi picks up her hips again.

“Y’know I fuckin’ love that shit,” She mumbles- mostly to herself- and she tugs the article over the swell of the other girls’ ass, eyes widening when they bring a string of glistening slick with them as they come away from the younger girls’ cunt.

She can’t help the groan that falls past her lips as she tugs them the rest of the way down, watching in disbelief as the strand stretches and the breaks, dropping to stick to the younger girls’ upper thigh.

Azzi hisses at the cold sensation, her face burning with embarrassment, and Paige quickly discards the pair of underwear behind her before her hands find the other girls’ legs again and she leans in, licking the slick off the supple skin of her upper thigh like she’s been in the desert and its the first drop of water she’s seen in days.

Azzi’s eyes drift back in a mix of disbelief and pleasure, biting at her lip in an attempt to keep her composure as Paige kisses the same place messily, leaving it wet.

She continues her trail of kisses up her thighs, one hand absentmindedly wandering over to the junction of Azzi’s hip, stopping there with her fingers held out as if signaling for Azzi to meet it with her own. She interlocks her fingers with her girlfriends’, and Paige looks up at her, a slight smile on her face before craning her neck back down, eyes still locked with Azzi’s as she licks into her cunt.

Azzi lets her eyes fall shut at the first contact, letting herself focus on the warmth of Paige’s tongue and the slick of her spit mixing with her own arousal over her clit. When she opens them again, she sees blue eyes still on her from between her legs, holding her gaze, careful to watch for any indication to stop- even though they both know it won’t come.

Paige is slow, letting her tongue run over her girlfriends’ pussy deliberately, reveling in how wet she finds her, how good she tastes. She sucks her clit into her mouth gently, and Azzi winces above her, curls pressed into the pillow as she kicks her head back and arches into the contact.

She lets her tongue come to assist the suction, running it over the base of her clit while she suckles at the head of it gently, and then lets it go, coming off with a pop!, pink lips glistening as they come away wet.

She brings her head back slightly and blows gently, the cold air sending goosebumps forming under Azzi’s skin, and watches her reaction carefully as she licks over it again. Azzi feels the other girls’ eyes on her and bites at her bottom lip, bringing her free hand up to palm at her breast as she holds the eye contact, teasing from where she's laid out.

Paige blinks slowly as she watches, eyebrows raising slightly- just enough to be noticeable, and she’s thankful her mouth is occupied so she doesn’t say something stupid in her awed state.

How lucky could one person get?

Azzi’s painted fingers move deftly to roll her pebbled nipple between her pointer and thumb, squeezing the mound of flesh to her chest and then repeating the motion, never breaking the eye contact. Paige watches eagerly and lets her tongue to continue to work her, slow and sensual and utterly pussy drunk, and Azzi is buzzing knowing how well she’s captured the girl between her legs.

Paige lets her tongue slip lower, the younger girls’ taste getting stronger and sweeter as she teases at her entrance- and Azzi gasps at the sensation, her right hand abandoning its efforts over her chest to come down her bare torso and grab at Paige’s hair, tangling into blonde strands still held back loosely by a hairtie.

"Fuck, Paige," She curses, her hips canting up and just slightly off the bed, smearing her slick across Paige's chin and nose. She pauses, giving an apologetic look when she realizes she's made a mess of the bottom half of her girlfriends' face, but Paige only chuckles.

She lets go of the younger girls' hand where their fingers are intertwined over her hipbone to bring both arms around her legs and over her hips to hold her still, fixing her in place before refocusing her efforts. Azzi whimpers at the feeling of being held so firmly while Paige knelt between her legs and went to work like a woman starved- so safe and desired and spoiled all at once.

She watches the slight flex of the blonde’s biceps as she holds pulls her impossibly closer, sloppy with her ministrations over the other girls’ clit, her jaw working as she alternates the shapes being drawn over the swollen nub to tease the most perfect little moans from her lips. The younger girl lets her newly free hands come up, crossing over her face in an attempt to hide how desperate she feels.

Paige smirks as she delves lower again, pushing into her cunt with her tongue and watching her facial expressions from between her legs, growing wetter by the second seeing how worked up she could make the other girl. Azzi's mouth hangs open in a silent gasp in response to the intrusion, eyebrows drawn up and together.

Paige opens her mouth wider, giving herself the leverage to fuck her tongue into her deeper- and Azzi picks a leg up to put it over the blonde's shoulder, improving the angle. The movement only makes Paige double down on her efforts, drawing back slightly to pull her right arm from its place over her hip in favor of bringing it low between them to meet the glistening slick of her pussy.

She keeps her tongue sliding in and out of her entrance, bringing her left thumb down over her pelvis to run over her clit. She’s aided by the wetness that's making a mess of her cunt- slowly spreading to her thighs now, too. Azzi whimpers, and the Paige borderline growls at the sound, drinking in the control she has over the other girl and the sounds she’s pulling from her lips.

She runs her tongue flat against her, running from entrance to clit, lapping up the juices she’d pulled since pressing the muscle into her needy cunt. She sucks her clit into her mouth again, letting the fingers of her free hand trail lower, tantalizingly slow in their movements as they ran deliberately teasingly along her folds, feeling the slickness of her juices over soft skin.

She lets her middle finger slip deeper, probing against her entrance, and Azzi’s breath catches at the feeling, hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to fill the ache inside of her.

"Ohmygod- please," She babbles, and Paige lets off her clit so she can sooth her. "Shh- I know, I know. You're okay mama, I gotchu.” She drops an open-mouthed kiss to the swollen bud.

“Jus’ needa stretch you out and make sure you're ready for it baby. S'been a while, hm?” She coos, lips brushing against her cunt as she says it, and Azzi whines, angling her hips so she feels her deeper. Paige hums at the observation, taking in the sight of the younger girls’ pussy as she has her way with her- glistening with wetness and the perfect shade of swollen pink.

"So needy for me, huh, baby?" Azzi nods deliriously, desperate for more- and Paige laughs sympathetically at her. "A’ight, sweetheart," She whispers, slipping two long, slender fingers in and curling them as she slides knuckle deep in one flush movement.

She presses deep entirely too easily, fingers brushing against her sweet spot far before the other girl had anticipated they would work themselves that deep- and its all she can do to whine at the sensation, throaty and guttural.

“Feels good?” The blonde husks, as if she doesn’t already know the answer. Azzi groans, humming a sweet little 'mhm' in response and hoping it’s enough, because it’s all she can muster. Paige eases in and out of her slow, reveling in how wet her fingers come away each time she draws them out of her pussy.

“Fuuuck, baby,” She husks, in awe of how perfect this girl is- how wet she’s gotten, how good she’s taking her fingers, how pretty her pussy is. Azzi whimpers, her hips chasing her fingers every time she draws them out, little ah, ah, ahs falling past her lips every time her fingers brush against that spongy spot deep inside of her.

Paige groans as she fucks into her gummy walls, chasing the high brought on by the younger girl’s delicious little noises. She's successful, Azzi keening when she strokes particularly deep- arching her back off the mattress, her abs flexing with the effort. The blonde watches eagerly, eyes hooded and lips wet as she observes every filthy detail of the unholy ministrations she’s working against Azzi’s cunt.

"'S it that good, baby? You like it when I stretch you out and get you ready for my dick, sweet girl?" Paige coos, and Azzi's too far gone to even manage a response, nodding deliriously with thick eyelashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks as she just stares with a fucked out expression, breathy little noises spilling out of her with each curl of her girlfriends' long fingers against her inner walls.

Unable to resist the urge, she lets her tongue lash over her clit again, moving in fast flicks of motion that she has to put conscious effort into limiting the pressure of in order to prevent overstimulating the swollen nub that’s already flared an angry pink.

"P-please, P, need it," Azzi whines, and Paige looks up at her, undeniably pussy drunk. "Yeah? Tell me what you want, baby," She says, tone sultry and words slurring with lust in a way that was just for Azzi.

"More," Azzi whines, and Paige tuts at her.

"Nah- you know better. Ask me right," The older girl corrects before bringing her mouth back to her core. Azzi whimpers pathetically before taking a steadying breath, steeling herself.

“Please,” She chokes, desperate for more despite the fact that her eyes were already welling up with tears at the intensity of what the blonde was doing to her.

“Want it,” She breathes, voice breaking, and Paige lets her eyes fall shut for a brief moment so she can soak in the sound of her pleas. Her wrist works overtime to keep her fingers in motion inside of her, and her tongue swirls around her clit, soaking in the metallic taste of the puffy little button as she continues to tease at it.

“Need it- fuck, please? Want you to fill me up,” She begs, and Paige takes a deep breath from between her legs, nostrils flaring slightly as she attempts to ground herself while she kisses into the younger girls’ cunt sloppily, lips and chin covered in her arousal. It’s almost too good to bring her mouth away from.

“Okay, sweet girl,” She mutters before letting her tongue drag along her slit, the slickness making the motion easy.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” She promises, pressing a kiss to her clit before standing. She places one knee on the mattress, bringing her hand up to rub at the other girls' thigh affectionately.

"Scooch up, mama. Gimme some room to work here," She murmurs gently, and Azzi complies, her eyes never leaving the blonde's face, bringing her hands to the mattress and pushing herself back.

The blonde follows immediately, crawling toward her and dropping a kiss to the scar over her knee as she approaches before sitting up straight. She adjusts the width of her knees where they’re pressed into the bed as she settles into the best position she can manage, reaching down to grasp the base of the toy where it juts out into the small amount of space between them.

Azzi’s eyes watch carefully as she reaches out, running her pointer and middle fingers through her folds to gather wetness before spreading it over the toy. She watches Paige’s fingers as they run along the length of the toy, coating it in her slick, and swallows, suddenly starting to realize that the toy looked a little bit bigger than she had remembered it being.

To distract herself, she forces her eyes higher, takes in the sight of the girl between her legs- abs tight, pert breasts and puffy pink nipples on display, loose blonde hair framing her face and a concentrated look painted across her features that was absolutely entrancing.

Paige takes hold of the toy and shuffles closer until she can run the tip through her folds, and Azzi’s breath catches at the contact. The older girl wets her parted lips as she stares, revelling in the way the younger girls’ slick spreads along the silicon, allowing the shaft move easily up and down her slit from entrance to clit.

Azzi's breath is shaky beneath her, pretty brown eyes blown as she watches every movement eagerly. She lets the toy nudge against her entrance, admiring how her pussy clenches a kiss around the head at the intrusion, and Azzi whines up at her, expression pleading silently for her to progress- so she rocks forward, slow, eyes on the younger girls’ face to gauge off of.

A little gasp falls from Azzi’s mouth as her eyes fall shut, head pushing back against the pillows as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Paige’s tongue peeks out of her mouth, pressing against her bottom lip with the effort as she presses in further, torturously slow as she eases her hips flush with Azzi’s.

Azzi moans as she bottoms out, her fingers grabbing ahold of Paige’s arm where it’s braced against her leg to improve the angle.

She lets her hand linger there in a loose grip, holding on to her for the sake of touching her alone, watching the other girl admire her, feeling her muscles move beneath her skin with every motion. Paige’s hips rock back, eyes watching the toy slide out of her entrance before she eases forward again, starting to find a rhythm.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” Azzi slurs, drawing a smirk out of Paige.

“Yeah? You like that, mama?” She asks, voice low and raspy as she pumps in and out of her, eyes roaming over the other girls’ body hungrily. The younger girl nods, eyebrows drawn together and face tight as she concentrates on adjusting to the stretch, painted fingernails digging into Paige’s arm just barely as a whimper escapes past her lips.

Paige gambles a look down as her pace gradually picks up, and watches as the strap slides in and out of the girl above her in time with her strokes. She swallows hard, sucking in a steadying breath as she watches her pussy stretch around the toy, excess wetness accumulating in a thick ring around the base of the toy.

Eager to see more, she snakes her dominant hand between them, using her pointer finger and thumb to hold her lips apart so she can get a better look at the toy pumping in and out of her, pussy pulsing and stretching around the silicon cock. She presses her thumb to her clit, rubbing tight circles as she picks up her pace gradually.

“Fuck, mama- squeezin’ my dick so pretty w’that pussy. You like it when I stretch you out, baby?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Azzi rushes out, barely coherent, and Paige watches as she takes it, moving with her to set the pace, hips chanting and abs tight.

“Yeah? Feels good, don't it princess? Y’feelin me deep?” Azzi hums out a pathetic little mhm, whimpering, and she can't help herself- she reaches out, running her hand up her stomach, squeezing at her tits when she gets to her chest, palming them and feeling the weight of them in her hand.

She groans, letting her head kick back. She could feel their combined wetness smearing all over the front of her thighs now, and the realization hits like a drug. Azzi’s hand comes to meet hers over her chest, not to stop anything she’s doing, just for the sake of being able to hold onto her- and Paige shifts, bringing one knee up to better her angle, pausing as she pivots, and then presses forward again.

Azzi groans at the new angle, her hips canting up to chase the motion and pushing Paige deeper, in turn drawing a whine from the blonde’s throat when the base of the toy pushes against her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” Azzi whimpers, spurred on by the knowledge of what fucking her like this is doing to the blonde. Obscene sounds fill the room- Azzi’s cunt squelching around the silicon cock, breathy moans falling from both of the pairs’ lips, the sound of their combined slick over the already prominent sound of skin meeting skin with each thrust from Paige.

It’s filthy, the way they’re rutting into each other, but god, did both of them need this.

Azzi arches her back, taking their joined hands and pushing them lower, and at first Paige isn’t sure what she’s doing, thinks maybe she’s ushering her to stimulate her clit again, but then she stops right above her pelvis. Her confusion quickly gives way to recognition, and she almost chokes when she feels it- she’s fucking up into the younger girl so deep that she can feel it perfectly just by having her hand braced over her stomach.

“Oh, baby- fuck,” Her hips stutter, overwhelmed between feeling how deep she’s fucking into Azzi and the sensation of the base of the strap rubbing against her clit. Azzi shifts, hooking her legs around her waist, and Paige leans further forward, bracing herself with her elbows against the mattress, body pressed to Azzi’s as she continues the snap of her hips.

Azzi’s moans are even clearer now- right there to lean over and swallow up with a kiss, so she does, connecting their lips as she rolls her hips fervently. It’s wet and messy and desperate, both of them moaning into it, and for a moment, the sheer desperation shared between the two of them is enough to carry it, both rutting into each other like it was their last moment on earth.

Azzi’s head kicks back when Paige draws in particularly hard, the blonde’s bottom lip dragging against the side of her face when she breaks away from the kiss to shift so suddenly. Her legs wrap around her tighter, arms slung around her back with one hand tangled into the bun barely still in place on her head and the other digging half-moons into her shoulder as she fucks her open.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” She babbles, and Paige curses under her breath, shifting her weight from one arm to the other to sustain the rocking of her hips.

She’s absolutely stoned on the sounds she’s drawing out of her lips- so committed to making her make more of them that the tiredness settling into her body is barely even noticeable. Azzi’s breaths get shallow and run together, little noises escaping her lips with every thrust, her hips and hands unable to stay still as she grasps for Paige like she’s not as close as physically possible already.

“Paige, I’m- oh fuck,” Her voice breaks, and the sheer amount of desperation in her tone is enough for Paige to be sure of what’s happening.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” She asks, and Azzi just nods, incapable of mustering any response beyond that in a coherent manner. Paige nods, pressing a kiss to the side of Azzi’s face, and braces herself to shift her weight on one arm, letting the other reach between them and find her clit.

The angle’s awkward and she knows she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long- but she also knows Azzi doesn’t need much more, just wants her to feel good as she goes over the edge.

“Show me, princess. Wanna see you cum on this dick, pretty girl,” She whispers, and Azzi whimpers, nails digging into her back as she arches her back, impossibly close. Paige’s heart is nearly beating through her chest, and she’s trying embarrassingly hard not to let on how she’s pretty sure she could cum, too, trying to focus on getting Azzi there.

“C’mon, mama. Doin’ so good, so pretty for me. Let me have it, sweet girl,” She coos. Azzi nods desperately, shaky breaths heaving from her lungs as she chases the edge.

"Don't stop, don't stop," She pleads, and Paige hums, acknowledging the request as she presses a kiss to her face again, back tense as her hips roll into her at a pace she has no earthly idea how she had possibly kept up this long aside from pure obsession and a desperation to make her girl feel good.

"Never, baby. I gotchu, you're okay. Let go for me," She urges, and Azzi purses her lips, eyes fluttering shut and dimples popping as she tips over the edge of her climax.

Her head pushes back against the pillow and her eyes eyes screw shut, legs tightening even further around Paige's waist. A guttural moan escapes from her throat and for once, she doesn't even care how loud she is.

Her breaths draw deeper as she shudders through the remainder of her orgasm, little spasms of pleasure washing over her body, and Paige nuzzles close, dropping soft kisses to her shoulders as she slows her efforts. Beneath her, Azzi finally relaxes, body slumping against the mattress and her head lolling to the side to rest against Paige's forearm where it's pressed into the mattress supporting her weight.

Her hand comes down and entangles with Paige’s where it’s working her clit slowly, wincing as she pulls it away. “Too much,” She whimpers, and Paige chuckles airily, nodding.

“Okay, babygirl,” She replies, keeping the younger girls’ fingers intertwined with her own as she rests her hand on her waist.

“You good if I pull out?” She asks, and Azzi nods slowly, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. “But… slow, okay?” She asks, voice small, and Paige swears she almost melts at the expression on her face.

“‘Course, baby. I’ll be gentle, I promise,” She assures, pressing a kiss to the shorter girls’ forehead before starting to ease the toy out.

“You okay?” She asks, giving the other girl a distraction as she works herself out from inside of her. Azzi nods, her fingers fidgeting lightly with Paige’s where their hands were intertwined.

“Yeah, I’m good,” She nods, her chest still heaving big breaths. She winces when Paige eases the toy the rest of the way out, but Paige is quick to soothe, pressing kisses to her shoulders as she leans further down.

"Good job, baby. Did so good f'me," She praises, and Azzi soaks it in. Paige sits up again, pulling at the buckles of the strap to try and get it to loosen enough to slide out of, and Azzi can’t help but giggle.

“Come here, dummy,” She teases, leaning forward to reach her. Paige obliges her request, picking up her hands so she has space to work, watching as she manages to release all the cinched down straps in the amount of time it had taken her to figure out which direction was tightening or loosening the device.

“I dunno how you do that, but you amaze me, f’real,” Paige mutters, a dopey grin on her face as she looks at the other girl, and Azzi rolls her eyes, a grin creeping across her face.

“You’re so dumb,” She dismisses, lovesick expression on her face despite her words as she pulled the excess of the straps taut, making it easier for Paige to slip out of them. She does, and once she pulls it off, she immediately discards the contraption onto the floor to deal with later.

Azzi chuckles at the thud it made against the ground, pulling Paige close, reveling in the feeling of the warmth of her skin against her own. She let her hands start to roam, fingers exploring expanses of soft skin that only she got to touch like this.

“You’re so perfect,” She whispers to the blonde, and Paige chuckles, a light flush spreading across her chest. Her hand settles on her waist, holding her close, while she lays on her back, one hand slung behind her head.

“You think so?” She asks, and Azzi nods, bringing her lips to drop kisses along her shoulders.

“Definitely,” She confirms, lips brushing against her collarbones. “Good strap game, too. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, after all,” She says, and Paige can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you, baby. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” The blonde replies, running her hand up Azzi’s bare waist affectionately.

“Mmm, I definitely did,” The younger girl whispers, her lips trailing up her neck, teasing a path to that one spot behind her ear that always seemed to drive her crazy.

“Now I think it’s my turn to make sure you enjoy yourself, hm?”

For once, Paige has no argument.

a/n: Thank you guys for reading and thank you again for your patience while I finished this, seriously! Comments and reposts are appreciated, remember to let me know if you'd like to be included in taglists in the future!

Disclaimer: Sorry for the robbery at the end, I really intended to include that scene but I was already at 9k words so I decided to just wrap it up. If y'all want a second part or smth, lmk!

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 17

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 16 | Series Masterlist | Part 18

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.9k

Chapter Summary: You take a step further in your relationship with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, dirty talk, thigh riding, tension, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tried to occupy yourself as you waited for Bucky to pick you up. You made sure you had your outfit for tomorrow and sent Addison a text to confirm when and where you were meeting. God, what if Bucky insisted on dropping you off? He likely would. There was no way he’d let you head over on your own, unless Ray or someone dropped you off.

“What am I doing?” you muttered.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned. You had changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable. He would think you looked sexy no matter what you wore, even if you didn’t try. What was he going to expect or demand from you? There was no way you’d go through the entire evening in his home without him touching you or something.

You weren’t sure if the anticipation was worse or knowing he’d probably make your body enjoy whatever he’d do to you, and use that as a weapon against you.

The knock on your door made you jump. Had two hours passed already? You checked the peephole and saw Bucky on the other side, shifting from one foot to the other. At least he didn’t break his way inside like he could’ve easily done.

“Hi.” You slowly opened the door to let him in. “I-”

Bucky had you against the wall before you could finish, his lips insistently pressing against yours. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours when he pulled away. “Don’t walk home alone again,” he whispered with a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

You nodded after a moment. The conversation from earlier was still on his mind, clearly. “I won’t.”

“You look beautiful by the way.” Taking a breath, he ran both hands through his hair and straightened up. He looked like his normal self again, and you knew it. No matter what he’d find you attractive. “Is this everything?” he asked, picking up the overnight bag and garment bag that you had left by the door.

“Yeah, it should be,” you said, making sure you had your phone and purse, too.

“Was the rest of your day okay?” he asked, watching carefully as you locked the door.

“It was fine,” you replied. You were so busy thinking about Bucky that you hadn’t thought much about Clark. “Was yours?”

“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.

“You don’t have to go to the club tonight?” you asked.

“Only if there’s an emergency. There’s no special event tonight, no reason to make an appearance, and my staff knows how to take care of the place,” he assured you. “Time with you is much more important than that.”

When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.

Once you were outside, you were surprised to find Steve standing by Bucky’s car instead of Ray. “Hi,” the blonde smiled with a row of perfect teeth.

“Hi,” you replied, stepping a bit closer to Bucky. Steve was his best friend, but you still didn’t know him well. What you did know was that he had his own woman he was stalking.

“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.”

“I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky smiled, helping you into the car.

The interaction between the two of them was so natural and easy. You imagined that in another life they were decent men who fought for others instead of trapping them. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?” you asked once you took off.

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased.

“I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

“Did you want to talk about the double date?” you asked, hoping the topic switch would help.

“Well, my girl likes art and Bucky mentioned how you sometimes like to relax with a glass of wine,” Steve began, smiling at you in the mirror. “So, I was thinking, we could do one of those wine and painting classes. Just the four of us.”

“But if you didn’t want to do a painting, they do something similar with pottery where everyone can pick their own piece to paint,” Bucky said, slipping an arm over your shoulders.

“Dinner before the painting, too. It would be really nice for you two to talk,” Steve continued, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “She’s a sweet girl with a big heart, but she doesn’t have many friends nearby like you do.”

“I mean, I’m fine with painting a canvas or pottery. I think we should let her choose since art is one of her passions.” Your heart went out to the girl. Was that why Steve set his sights on her? Did he feel like he was rescuing her in some sense? “And does she have a preference on wine? White or red? Sweet or dry? Maybe I can pick a bottle for her while I’m at the vineyard tomorrow.”

Steve glanced at you again in the mirror, impressed. “That’s very considerate of you,” he said, sharing a quick look with Bucky, too. “And she likes sparkling sweet wine.”

“I have a very considerate girl,” Bucky boasted, kissing your temple. “You really are thoughtful.”

“I try to be,” you whispered, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure Bucky will give me the details once it’s set up,” you said, not finding it in you to argue since you were outnumbered.

“He will,” Steve smiled, clearing his throat. “And now that we have that out of the way…”

“Really, punk?” Bucky asked, tightening his hand on our shoulder.

You sat up a little. All the warmth had left his voice, and he tensed up beside you. “What’s going on?”

“Tell her, Buck,” Steve urged.

You held your breath. Was this about earlier in the day when Ray spoke with Bucky? “Yes, please, tell me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Mrs. Crandle wasn’t at work today, was she?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“No, she…” Your eyes widened. Kate said she called out for some business reason. “Oh, my god. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Just shut up and drive,” Bucky ordered when you gasped. “The reason she was suddenly out of work today was because of Zemo.”

Your heart sank. What the hell would Zemo want with Mrs. Crandle? “What do you mean?”

“From what we’ve gathered, he met up with her to tell her that she won an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo. She was shocked since she didn’t remember even entering the contest, but he told her someone anonymously registered her,” he explained. “He asked questions about some of her employees in case she wanted to bring anyone from her shop along and your name came up.”

“But why?” you asked. Why would Zemo make a contest just to talk to your boss?

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.”

“Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Bucky doesn’t have his hand in the shop out of respect for you, and Zemo knows that,” Steve chimed in before Bucky could argue. “So it’s possible that he may be trying to butter Mrs. Crandle up before he makes an offer, whether it’s to offer some kind of protection or to buy out her shop completely.”

The thought of Zemo owning the shop where you worked or having his hand in it made your stomach turn. “She loves her shop, and she’s honest when it comes to business. She wouldn’t want someone stepping in or buying it,” you said, your breathing a bit heavier. “Is she in danger? Is something going to happen to her because of me?”

If something happened to Mrs. Crandle, you’d never forgive yourself.

“It isn’t because of you, Kotyonok. It’s his actions,” Bucky answered. Just like Bucky’s actions put you in the line of fire. “I hesitated telling you because we still need answers, but she’s safe. We also have someone keeping an eye on her, just to exercise caution.”

You exhaled. If Zemo was trying to scare you, it was working. “Please, don’t keep me in the dark,” you said. Even if it scared you, you had to know. “And Mrs. Crandle is one of the most harmless people in the city and the shop is all she has. If he-”

“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Bucky promised. It was a lot to promise. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say something this morning. I just wanted you to have a normal day.”

You understood part of Bucky’s reasoning. Telling you even when she wasn't in immediate danger would've thrown your whole day off. But what was a normal day now? “We deal with ups and downs every day. So just tell me next time something’s going on, especially if it involves someone important to me.” Ignorance isn't bliss in the world Bucky lived in.

He regarded you with a soft smile. “I will.”

You stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride while Bucky and Steve discussed dinner options for the double date night. It would’ve been endearing with how excited they were, had it not been for the fact that you and Steve’s girl didn’t exactly have a choice. What was going to happen at Thor’s party?

And what about your loved ones? Were they safe? You thought being by Bucky’s side would keep them safe from his wrath, but what if Zemo went after them? You had to trust that Bucky and his men wouldn't allow that to happen.

“You two have fun tonight,” Steve winked. “Try not to get too handsy, jerk.”

“What?” you asked, your throat dry once you realized you were at Bucky’s place. God, you were really there. There was no backing out.

“Just get in your car and go, punk,” Bucky chuckled, helping you out and grabbing your things. “He really is excited for you and his girl to become friends.”

“I’ll bet,” you said, giving Steve a small wave for his benefit.

You counted the number of steps from the car to the elevator. This was similar to when he brought you here the first time because you didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse though knowing what you knew now.

“Where’s Ray?” you asked.

“He’s busy,” Bucky answered cryptically, sweeping his gaze over you. “You seem nervous. If you’d rather skip your day out tomorrow, I can help you find a few ways to relax.”

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested.

“You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

“Okay,” you breathed, hoping he didn’t notice you trembling as you walked through the place. It felt warmer than the last time you were there, more like the temperature that you kept at your place. And as dangerous as Bucky was, you somehow felt safe being there. Someone like Zemo wasn’t going to get in there. Clark wouldn’t either.

Rubbing your arms, you took a seat on the sofa. It was a beautiful room, but nothing like your living room. It wasn't just the difference in size, but you noticed once again that there were no nicknacks or homey touches. Maybe you could add a pop or color or even some flowers to… Oh, God. You were really thinking of how you’d decorate the place.

“You still look nervous,” Bucky said once he joined you, giving you absolutely no space as he took a seat. “You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lied, biting your lip. “Okay, I am a little.”

He hummed. “Were you expecting me to drag you to bed?”

You nodded slowly. He behaved himself in the car with Steve there, but now the two of you were alone and you had no idea where Ray was. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he thought belonged to him.

“You thought sex would make it up to me because you walked home alone?”

“No,” you said immediately. You shouldn’t have to give him sex to say you’re sorry, especially when he had a much longer list of things he needed to apologize for. “I just thought this was a natural step in a relationship, you know? Spending the night together.”

A natural step would’ve been him staying at your place, too, but he was certain you would live at his place. And having him in your space, it didn’t feel the same. It was something you wanted to keep sacred.

“It is a natural step, but I don’t think you offered to stay here to make it up to me.”

His statement surprised you. That was part of the reason. If you made it up to him, he wouldn’t object to you going out with your friends. You weren’t going to bring up Clark or that the thought of being alone at your place made you nervous. “Then why else do you think I’m here?” you asked.

“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.”

You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-”

He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

You shook your head again. Admitting that being in his arms wasn’t terrible and that his place did feel safer than yours at the moment would give him another win. “I'm not admitting anything.”

The smile on his face widened. “Is it because I'm right and you don't want me to be right?”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, standing and crossing your arms. “I should just go.”

“No, no, no. I’ll stop teasing. Please stay,” he nearly begged, getting to his feet, too. “How about I run you a bath and you can relax?”

“...A bath?” you asked. It wasn’t fair. He knew how much you loved taking baths.

He nodded. “A warm bath and a glass of wine, too.”

You uncrossed your arms, avoiding his hopeful gaze. It was a bit of a rough day, on top of a rough week. You deserved to relax. “Okay, that actually sounds really nice.”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I have bath bombs or salts if you want those, too. Anything to help you relax.”

“You have bath bombs?” you asked, your curiosity peaked. “What kind?”

“I have honeysuckle, lavender, vanilla,” he smiled softly. Each scent sounded like something that would help make the stress leave your body. “Let me show you.”

You let him lead the way you were pretty sure most of your apartment could fit inside the luxurious bathroom. The inviting tub almost made you burst into happy tears. It was nothing like your builder's grade tub. This was an honest to goodness clawfoot tub of your dreams.

“You like it?” Bucky smiled.

Blinking, you remembered Bucky saying how he wanted to fuck you in his tub. Would it be tonight? “I love it,” you admitted.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ll grab a tray and I can bring you a book if you want. Or you can just relax and enjoy your wine.”

“Well.” You thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind a book.”

Bucky nodded and brought the bath bombs out for you to choose from before he ushered you into the bedroom. “Why don't you stay here and pick one out while I'll get everything else you need?”

“Okay,” you said, holding your breath as you stared at the king sized bed. You avoided looking at it when he led you into the bathroom, but now you couldn’t help yourself. That was the bed he expected you to sleep with him in… the bed he’d fuck you and make love to you in. The satin sheets were a dark promise that he’d get everything he wanted and more.

Shaking your head, you carefully picked up each bath bomb and gave them a sniff. Each one smelled better than the last, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the one you selected. You wondered if he had these before you met or if he bought them specifically for you to have available.

Bucky came back after a minute and took your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom. “I’ve got everything all set.” The tub was steaming, candles were lit, and there was a generous glass of wine waiting on the tray with a book. “There's a robe on the back of the door, and I'll make sure fresh pajamas are ready for when you get out.”

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.”

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

“Thanks.” What other clothes did he have waiting for you? “What will you do while I'm in the tub?”

“I have a couple of calls to make.” He kissed your forehead. “And there's something else I want to set up for you.”

You shook your head. “I think this is more than enough,” you said honestly. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of setting this up. “But…” You fidgeted a little. “You promise you won’t just… barge in, right?”

This was still his home. He could easily make an excuse to go into his bathroom for whatever reason. And being naked in the bathtub, you’d be more vulnerable than normal.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.”

You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

With a small smile, he shut the door behind him. You waited a full minute after hearing his footsteps fade before you undressed and added the bath bomb to the tub. The scent brought a smile to your face before you tested the water temperature with your hand. It felt perfect, evident by your sigh once you got in.

You took your time sipping your wine as you began to read. Was this really going to be your bathroom now? Would you relax here after a rough shift or just because you felt like it? How many nights would Bucky insist on joining you?

But the man was, surprisingly, true to his word. He hadn’t disturbed you once. Even after you finished your glass and added more warm water to the tub, he didn’t knock or barge in. Even when you grudgingly got out of the tub and dried off before you pulled the plush robe on, he wasn’t sitting there waiting. Was he actually respecting your boundaries?

Peeking out into the bedroom, Bucky had laid out a pair of soft pajamas like he promised and was still nowhere to be seen. You were still quick to change so he couldn’t sneak a look at you. But where was he?

You thought of calling out when you went to search for him since the lights were dimmed all over the penthouse. Your fingers touched one of the walls. Would he ever hang a picture of his mom up or was it too painful?

Tiptoeing over to the balcony when you saw the door open, you spotted Bucky reading a book, too, and sipping whiskey from a tumbler. He looked completely at ease, lost in his own lonely world, and you weren’t sure if you should disturb him. Turning around, you wondered where you should go. Maybe you could curl up on the couch or something before he could-

“All finished in the bath?”

You froze and turned back toward him, his hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Yeah, sorry. I didn't know what to do when I was done, so I was going to wander around.”

He downed the rest of his glass and smiled. “You're welcome to wander, except into the den which is being redone.” He offered his hand again when he stood. “Did you enjoy your bath?”

“I did. That bath bomb was incredible,” you said. There was no reason to lie. “So was the wine.”

You gulped a little. Oh, god. You didn’t see him pour the glass. Why did you accept that from him? He could’ve put something in it. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted you to want him without that sort of influence.

“I'll get you more. The bath bomb and the wine.” he smiled, leading you back to the living room where he had pillows and blankets set up.

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-”

“I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

You looked at the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Like the bathroom, it looked like a dream. Looking back at him, you smiled softly at his once again hopeful expression. He carried himself with such confidence and didn't seem to care if he impressed others except for you. “I do. Thank you.”

He smiled, too, his whole face bright. “I thought it would be another good way to relax.”

The memory of Clark walking you home popped in your mind for some reason before you pushed it away. “This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?”

He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”

Bucky considered you and you couldn’t help but fidget again when he pinned you with his gaze. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes. “I just don't understand why you’re doing all of this.”

He could’ve been manipulating you again, but it actually seemed like he was trying to be a doting boyfriend without expecting anything in return. Your guard was down enough for him to worm his way in, and you all too easily accepted the kind gestures. Why were you making it easy for him?

“You mean setting up the blankets and pillows? I thought we could lay together and watch a movie. Or talk.” His fingers touched your cheek again. “Whatever you want.”

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something.

He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.”

You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

“And how do you feel being here compared to the first time?”

“Better,” you admitted. You weren’t completely terrified this time, and you also felt like you had some control over. Maybe not much, but some.

“Good. Now, shall we?”

You nodded and allowed Bucky to help you settle into the comfort of the pillows. He pulled you close, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. This felt more gentle. More… right.

It should’ve felt wrong.

The room was so quiet and all you could hear for a minute was the gentle sound of his breathing and his heart beating. “What's your favorite color?” you asked. “I don't think you've told me.”

You weren’t sure if you had taken the time to ask because, well, it hadn’t been a real relationship in your eyes. But you needed to know him. Call it acceptance or ammunition. Maybe both.

“Blue,” he answered, his hand absentmindedly moving along your side.

“And your birthday?”

“March 10th.”

“Wait, you're a Pisces?” you smiled a little. “That explains so much.”

He smiled down at you and chuckled. “Oh, does it now?”

You laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re just… you know…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish. “Emotional.”

“I can't argue with that,” he smiled, leaning in a bit. “Does it explain anything else?”

“Well, you're…” You were a little distracted as he kept rubbing your side. “Intense. Passionate. You want to be close to the person you fall for.”

He fit that to a tee.

His darkened eyes made you lose your breath. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered, pulling you close without hesitation and fusing your mouths together.

Bucky held you tight and rolled you over so you were on top of him, his hands skimming your thighs as he made you straddle him. A small sound escaped when he brushed against you, your heart pounding in your ears. “Bucky-”

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.”

“No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please?” he asked, thrusting his hips up. “I’ll make it worth your while if you skip.”

Natasha’s words crossed your mind, reminding you that you had power. But a sinking feeling washed over you because that power had to come from your body, right? You shouldn’t be expected to give him sex, but you could give him something to hold him over. Pushing the dread away, you could hate yourself later for it. “You can spend time with me when I get back,” you offered, grinding your hips against his. “I’ll be all yours.”

The sickening feeling you expected when he moaned didn’t come. “You promise?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, grinding your hips again. “You can even drop me off at Addison’s, and I’ll let you know when I get back to my place. I promise.”

“Okay, Kotyonok,” he groaned, his hands grabbing your waist. Your triumph didn’t last long. “Keep doing that and I’ll pay for all the bottles of wine you want, too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me touch you. Please, just let me make you feel good,” he half begged, half demanding between kissing you again. He truly hungered for you. “I'll make you feel amazing if you just let me touch you.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. How far would he take it if he touched you? No, you had to stay in control. “You are touching me.”

“Let me take you to bed. I'll eat your pussy so good you'll cry.”

You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.”

“I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control.

“You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

You made a small sound, trying to get your body to relax. You had never ridden anyone’s thigh before and you hadn’t pictured it like this. But the blissful look on his face, he looked like he was in heaven.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Especially like this,” he praised.

“I…” you whimpered. “I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, tightening his grip. “And you deserve to feel good. My girl deserves whatever she wants.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders when he flexed his thigh, sending an unexpected shock through your entire body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“That felt good, right?” he asked, watching you with lidded eyes. “You want me to keep going? Make you come all over my pants?”

You whimpered when he held you still, unsure it was his dirty talk or the slight edging that had you trembling. “Bucky…”

“Tell me, Kotyonok,” he ordered, licking his lips and relaxing back into the blankets and pillows. “Tell me you want me to keep going and I will.”

You looked deep into his eyes. There was so much fire in them and it was burning for you. Your breath caught as he flexed his thigh again and you found yourself nodding. “Please, Bucky. Keep going.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he whispered, sliding his tongue along your lips. “Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, your core throbbing. “I want you to keep going,” you breathed.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling his thigh getting wetter beneath you. “Please…” you whispered, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. Mercy? To be put out of your misery? You could ask for anything except for freedom.

“Still begging when you don't have to.” He chuckled affectionately. “You’re so sweet.”

The pleasure building inside you was bittersweet. Sexual acts were, in your eyes, something to bring you closer together. What would he want next? What would you want next?

“Fucking yourself on my thigh. Wait ‘til you fuck yourself on my cock,” he gruffly spoke, your walls clenching around nothing when he lightly nipped over your pulse. “Just let go if you want. Make a mess for me.”

You were breathless from how close you were. “Do… that again,” you said, unable to let yourself feel embarrassed in the moment.

Bucky nipped your neck again and smiled when you moaned. “Fuck, that’s my beautiful girl. Doing so good for me, telling me what you want,” he said gruffly, dragging you faster along his thigh. “Now I want you to come for me.”

Your mouth fell open when he rocked you faster and bit down once more, hard enough that something inside you snapped. It didn’t just snap, you shattered. You saw stars. You couldn't stop it.

“There you go. Coming just for me,” he smiled, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you got my thigh all wet. Just ride it out. Good girl.”

Your face burned and you wanted to hide once you slowed down, but he wouldn’t let you when he lifted his head. He looked so happy, like a cat who got the cream. Your release dripped from your pussy and soaked your pajamas and his pants. You let him get you off.

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him.

He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

He kept his mouth close to yours when you pulled back. The orgasm surprisingly helped you relax, but it worried you, too. Had you pushed too far with what you just did? Would he want more? You couldn’t let him in, and you weren’t ready to let yourself fall for him after everything. Not yet.

“Um, thanks,” you said, unsure of what to say to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement.

“That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s… No. I…” You just wanted a bit of time with your friends, it wasn’t about trust. Was it? How could you trust this man?

He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”

You shut your eyes to hold back tears. He had scared you from the moment you met, but you wouldn’t say you were completely scared of him right now. Not really. You didn’t know how you felt.

That was what scared you.

“Will someone keep an eye on my place while I’m out tomorrow?” you asked curiously, hoping the question didn't sound weird. You just didn't want Clark snooping around, and you didn't want Bucky worked up if you mentioned him.

“I have safety measures in place,” he replied. “Do you feel safe here?” he asked above a whisper.

“Yes,” you replied. You felt safe and in danger all at once. It was a strange feeling.

“Good,” he whispered. “Hey. Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow, too? We’ll do a movie night.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, your heart finally starting to slow to a steady rate. “And pizza.”

“Pizza and a movie? It’s a date,” he smiled. “We can talk about redecorating the place, too. Make it a real home for us.”

“A real home,” you whispered, knowing full well you were home for Bucky.

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted.

And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

So, that happened. It could've been... worse? He's wearing his girl down, isn't he? How are things going to be in the morning? Will he leave you be when you're with your friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

★ synopsis: in order to get a creepy coworker off your back, you begrudgingly let sylus play the part of your fake boyfriend. unfortunately, your emotions and pride quickly spiral out of control.

★ character: sylus

★ cw: first person pov, enemies to lovers, fake dating, part 1 out of 2, angst, some swearing

★ word count: 5k

★ a/n: i had HELLA writers block while writing this, so if it seems chaotic and rushed that's why. i really wanted to scrap this but i spent so long on it i would be disappointed if i did. this is part one out of two, and i promise to get part two out super soon! it should be a lot better than this one *sob*

“Is that a new necklace?”

I grimace, the annoying twerp’s voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“No, Nicholas, it's the one I always wear.” I press my lips into a tight line, staring at the papers in front of me. After everything I’ve tried, I don’t know how he hasn’t caught on with how absolutely, utterly disinterested I am.

Nicholas was a recent graduate from the academy, starting his first year here at the Association. At first he seemed sweet, like an infatuated kid, but it quickly worsened and now I have to deal with harassment every day at work.

He’d do anything and everything to spark a conversation, trying to work any attention out of me despite all my efforts of ignoring him. I tried to be nice originally, letting him down easily whenever he’d pay me compliments and ask me out to lunch.

That didn’t work.

He became more persistent, and I resorted to either giving him the silent treatment or being straight up rude. Throwing him off my back seemed like an impossible task, and I was convinced I had developed some sort of parasite that was bound to me until I retired.

“Ah, I’ve never noticed…” Nicholas sat himself in front of me, and I could feel his stare on my face.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

“Hey guys!”

Thank God.

Forcing a smile at Tara’s cheerfulness, Nicholas paid her a nod, clearly unsettled with her interruption. She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. If there was anyone who was capable of putting a wedge in between me and my borderline stalker, it was Tara.

“Are you excited for the Hunter’s Ball? I can't believe it’s already coming up…” She sighed dreamily behind me, resting her cheek on the top of my head. While the Hunter’s Ball wasn’t my favorite event, it was typically a good time.

Well, at least before Nicholas came along.

I couldn’t imagine how it would go this year, him crawling six feet up my ass as I try to shake him off the whole night. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him sober, I can’t even imagine how much more unbearable he’d become with drinks in his system. This was the one night of the year the Association actually shows their appreciation for their employees, and I’d be damned if I couldn’t enjoy myself.

“It’s always nice we get a plus one,” Tara mentions, “I can't wait to see who everyone brings." She nudges my shoulder with her arm, laughing.

The look in Nicholas’ eyes told me everything he was about to say. I could practically hear the words come out of his mouth before he even spoke them-

“Yeah, I’m gonna bring my boyfriend.” I spoke before thinking, the words an act of desperation. Nicholas’ eyes widened and Tara’s arms flew from my body, as she whipped herself to stand in front of me.

Oh no, why would I say that- Why did I say that?!

“Your… what!” She started grasping at my hands, questions flying out of her mouth before I couldn’t even process half of them, “Since when? What’s his name? Where’d you meet him? Do you have any pictures?”

I knew I had gotten myself into trouble, I didn’t even have the slightest clue as to who I could possibly feign to be my boyfriend; but the look on Nicholas’ face told me I needed to keep up whatever I was doing, because it was working.

I smiled innocently, “We’ve been keeping it on the down low, things are still pretty new. I was planning to hard launch us at the Ball.” Chuckling nervously, I was convinced nobody was believing a word I was saying.

“Ohmygosh Mystery Man! I’m so excited!” Tara continued to blabber on, trying to pull any detail she could out of me. I made eye contact with Nicholas and thought about how soon the Ball was - only a week away.

Letting out a sigh of relief because of my believable lie, the feeling soon faded and was replaced with chest crushing stress. I had no boyfriend, and no plan; I was going to have to think fast.

-

Laying in my bed that night, I scoured my brain for any potential suitor. I thought maybe Zayne, a cardiac surgeon and childhood best friend. He’d be perfect, all my coworkers would be so pleased, but a cow would have to jump over the moon before he’d even think about complying. Maybe Xavier’s friend Jeremiah? A sweet florist…No, Xavier would never let me do that.

I flipped onto my stomach, screaming into my pillow. Smushing my face into the fabric, I silently prayed I’d suffocate and be free from this mess I’d webbed myself into.

Before I could pass out and be put out of my misery, my phone started to ring.

Not even looking at the caller id, I picked it up and answered with a disgruntled, “Hello?”

“You never sound pleased to hear from me, Kitten.”

I screamed into the pillow again, Sylus being the complete utter last person I wanted to hear from right now.

He chuckled over the line, “Actually, I think that might be the unhappiest I’ve heard you.”

“What do you want?”

“Can I not just call to talk? I’ve had a rough day and wanted to hear your voice.”

I let out a forced laugh, “You’ve had a rough day? YOU’VE had a rough day? You will not believe the day I had then.”

His voice softened, “Talk to me about it then.”

While I most definitely realized my day couldn’t be comparable to his, as he was essentially a mob boss running the N109 Zone, venting about my problems felt nice. As much as I couldn’t stand Sylus, with his incessant arrogance and backhanded flattery, he was easy to talk to sometimes.

Sometimes.

“I don’t even know how I got myself into this situation. Well, I do know, I just didn’t mean to!” I groaned, throwing my face into my hands.

He sits in silence for a minute, and I can hear the soft playing of one of his records in the background. It’s annoying how he feels the need to call and bother me, with a side of music, to wind down at night.

“When is it?” He finally asks, and I hear shuffling.

“Next Saturday, so…” I can practically see the clock ticking down, “Shit, a week from today.”

“What time?”

“9- Sylus, why?”

“I’ll be there at 8:30 then.” There’s mirth in his voice and my face goes pale, “Sylus, no, don’t you dare. It cannot be you, just let me borrow one of your men or something.”

Sylus lets out a low laugh, “Now why would I do that when I could just be your date?”

“Not date,” I cut him off, “fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, fake boyfriend.” He clucked his tongue, “Why would I let someone else be your fake boyfriend?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re the big bad Onychinus boss?” Pressing a finger to my temple to ease the headache that he was becoming, I started to pace my floor. “You’re stepping into enemy territory at this event, there’s no way I’ll be able to save your ass if you get found out, let alone what will happen to me and my place at the Association.”

“I’ve already met some of your coworkers before, remember? It’s best if it's me instead of some stranger, and trust me sweetie, they won’t know.”

My coworkers did take a liking to him when they met during one of our outings, Sylus just had this charisma about him that sucked everyone in; the mysterious fruit vendor Skye who was absolutely horrid at karaoke. He stole their hearts quickly, and I’m lucky if they don’t ask me at least once a week how he’s doing. Sylus was just magnetic like that, even if you tried your damndest to hate him, there’s just something about his demeanor that’s magic.

He has a point here, and it’s killing me to admit he’s right.

“Fine,” I snap, “but absolutely no funny business.”

“I’m not sure what you could possibly mean by that, Kitten.” Sylus lets out a low laugh that makes me want to punch my phone, “I’ll be there at 8:30.”

Before I can respond, he quickly hangs up. I’m left sitting on my bed with racing thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. Was bringing Sylus really worth getting this creep off my back? Well, if there was anyone who could scare him off, it would be the leader of Onychinus. Worst case scenario, I have Sylus pull a gun out on him.

I shake my head, trying to clear my stupid thoughts.

I sent him a picture of the invitation, which included the dress code. I wasn’t too worried about him making a fool out of me, just the overwhelming anxiety of bringing a top criminal as my date to a work event where we quite literally are attempting to hunt this exact man down.

Trying to trust Sylus isn’t the easily discoverable type, I make a miserable attempt to put my mind to rest, and get some sleep.

-

The next week following my abrupt news of a boyfriend was hell. Not to my surprise, word was quickly spread through the Association, and I was constantly being flooded with questions and endless pressure to just ‘give them a name!’. I even had Xavier at my desk with questions one morning, and he was always the type to steer away from work related gossip.

Not to mention Sylus himself was being utterly insufferable. He was taking this far too seriously, sending lunch and flowers to my work with paper love notes attached. It was bringing on more attention at work, and every time I told him to stop, he’d just send more extravagant bouquets that cluttered my desk and made the surrounding area smell like a funeral.

At one point, I woke up to a box in the mail. Inside was a black velvet dress, a ruby necklace, and heels. Sending him an angry text about how I have my own clothes, he just responded by transferring 200 dollars into my bank account saying, ‘Get your nails done too. Match the outfit.’

By Saturday night, I was almost ready for everyone to meet Sylus, just so people would stop with the ‘fake boyfriend trivia’ while I’m on the clock, and his annoying attempts at romantic gestures.

The night of, at 8:30 on the dot, I heard a knock at my door.

On the other side was a well dressed Sylus; I think it was the first time I had ever seen him done up so nicely. He wasn’t ever one to slack on his looks, but in his black pinstripe suit and red tie that matched my gifted necklace, I had to take a second. Even though he made me constantly want to take my gun and replicate the time I shot him, I could never deny he’s hot. His arguably perfect looks just adds to the hatred.

He looked me up and down, smirking. The dress he had gotten me was backless and stopped at my ankles, with a slit up to my thigh that had me worried that with one wrong move I’d flash all my coworkers. Opening his mouth to I’m sure to make a snide comment, I cut him off.

“I have to put on my shoes and that necklace, but then I’m ready.” I walked over to the coffee table and grabbed the ruby piece that was gifted, struggling with the clasp thanks to the nails I was practically forced to get.

“Here.” Coming up behind me, Sylus took the necklace from my hands. Brushing my hair out of the way, I felt his fingers against my neck as he secured the jewelry with ease. I turned around to face him, and he smiled down at me.

He gestured to the couch, “Sit.”

His one word commands were starting to get on my nerves. “What?” I glared at him.

Grabbing my shoulder and softly pushing me back, I tumbled onto the couch. Sylus snickered, “I said sit, Kitten.”

Getting on his knees, he picked up my ankle, slipping the heel onto my foot.

“I could’ve done this myself.” Scoffing, I averted my eyes to anywhere that wasn’t Sylus on his knees in front of me.

“I’m sure you could with those nails, sweetie.” He hooked the straps around my ankle, and I felt my skin burn red where his fingers danced. It was definitely red with anger.

For sure.

Standing when he was done, Sylus reached a hand out to me. Narrowing my eyes at his hand, I ignored the help. To my dismay, I stood up too fast in heels and lost a bit of my balance. Sylus caught my waist and gave me a smug smile, pulling me into him. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight, my love.”

I grimaced, pulling away from his grasp and heading to the door. “Oh, do not do that. No more of that.”

“We have to get into character, I’m just being prepared.”

“Be in character when we’re there. Not here.”

“I have to get into the mindset.” Sylus creeped closer to me, and I stepped back. At this point, I was essentially pinned in between him and the door. “After all, I have to practice so I can impress everybody.” He leaned down, his breath fanning against the side of my neck.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, opening the door behind me and taking a backwards step out. Sylus stumbled at the sudden movement, and I smirked at his loss of composure. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

-

When we arrived, I felt my heart begin to race. All the mental preparation I had done for this exact night fled my mind as soon as Sylus put the car into park. My worry was not of showing off my new fancy fake boyfriend, it was the fact that I was bringing my new fancy fake boyfriend into an arena that was hunting him. Over the past week I’ve tried telling myself he’s not easily discoverable, I mean, if he was, the Association would’ve had him tracked down by now. However, knowing my luck, I was preparing for the worst.

Sylus gently placed his hand on my thigh, attempting to give me a reassuring smile, “It’ll be okay, Kitten. Just follow my lead.”

We’re fucked.

He walked around, opening the door for me. His car was clearly the nicest and most expensive out of all the guests tonight, and I knew if anybody saw I’d never hear the end of it.

When we were nearing the entrance, I sighed, shoving down my pride and grabbing Sylus’ arm, wrapping myself sweetly around his bicep. I watched his lips curve upward into a smug smile, and I suppressed the urge to throw myself off and take my heel to his-

“Invitation please.” Sylus handed the men working the door the two slips of paper, and I begrudgingly walked in clinging to his arm.

‘Playing the character’, I thought.

The venue the Ball was being held at was extravagant, with a high, golden ceiling, and golden marble floors.

It was filled to the brim with people that worked for the Association, plus their guests. I winced at the sheer amount of people, automatically going into defense mode due to the overwhelming fact that we were outnumbered.

“Smile, sweetie.” Letting go of his arm, Sylus took his pointer finger and thumb, lightly pulling the corners of my mouth upward.

I nipped at his finger, and he poked my nose as a warning.

I heard someone shriek my name, and I whipped around to see Tara quickly approaching. “Oh wow, you’re beautiful!” She wrapped me up in a tight hug, rocking me side to side. Letting go of me just as fast, Tara gasped when she saw Sylus.

“Skye! Oh my gosh it’s you, how sweet!” She fawned over us, and he smiled kindly at her, “You look lovely tonight, Tara.” If he kept up the nice talk, I was going to put my head through one of the walls.

“Here, come with me. Some of us already have a table together!”

Tara dragged us over to a table where a few of my most nagging coworkers stood around talking. Introducing him to the ones who had never met him, I groaned internally, ready for the torment of questions to begin.

“So,” Tara dropped the first bomb, “how long have you two been a thing?” I know this has been weighing on her worse than me all week.

“About a month now.” Sylus answered with ease. I tried to suppress a shocked look on my face, because I was planning on doing all the talking; but that continued, them rapid firing questions and Sylus answering all of them as if he had this all thought out. I mean, shit, he was convincing me.

“I have to know how this happened!” One of them said, and Sylus tucked my hair behind my ear, pretending to recall the moment.

“I had feelings for her for a while,” He said, smiling down at me, “and it got to a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. It was spur of the moment, but I showed up at her door in the middle of the night and had to ask her if she felt the same.”

Damn. He was good.

All the girls squealed, “That's so romantic!”

I placed my hand on Sylus’ chest, batting my eyelashes up at him, “I’m gonna go get a drink, d’you want anything?” He grabbed my hand, matching my energy, and kissing my knuckles, “No, sweetie, that’s quite alright. I’ll stay here and entertain your friends.”

All of them cooed at the sight, probably thinking we were so lovesick for each other it hurt. Well, it did hurt, this whole thing was a pain in my ass I needed to be over.

I grabbed a glass of wine from the drink table, the group out of sight. Sighing, I resisted the urge to down the glass all at once. While I was uncomfortable, I couldn’t deny everything was going well. Everyone was pleased, so I tried to relax.

“That's a pretty necklace,” I heard from behind me, “is it new?”

Nevermind.

Turning around, there stood Nicholas. His eyelids drooped, and he reeked of wine.

“What did you say?” I asked, looking around for the quickest exit route.

“I said I liked your necklace. Is it new?”

God, does this twerp have any other material?

“Yes, it is.” A low voice said, and I felt an arm wrap around my waist. My head shot up to meet Sylus in the eyes; I guess my face was screaming, ‘Help me!’, because he gave my side a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“Oh.” Was all Nicholas replied, shooting his eyes back and forth between Sylus and I. In his head, I imagined the pieces clicking together. ‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘finally he’ll leave me alone!’

“This song is nice… Would you care to dance?” There were no thoughts behind his eyes. This guy was genuinely dense. I could’ve sworn my jaw dropped at his stupidity, and Sylus chuckled next to me.

“So sorry, but tonight she’s mine.” Swiftly sweeping me away, Nicholas and my glass of wine were quickly left behind.

“Why don’t you dance with me instead, sweetie?” Sylus said, leading me to the open floor where people were dancing to the soft classical music.

Sylus put my hand on his shoulder, intertwining my other hand with his. Placing his hand on my lower back, he pulled me in closer to him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes stared into mine, and there was something behind them I couldn’t quite place my finger on. We started slowly ballroom dancing in our own little spot on the floor, a bit away from everyone else. As much as I wanted to strangle this man, I could relax a little in his arms. He just felt safe sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re doing good tonight.” Sylus said, still looking into my eyes.

“Thanks.” I started playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “So where do we go from here?”

He raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do, Kitten.”

“How am I going to tell my coworkers that we ‘broke up’ right after this? They’ll be suspicious.”

“We could keep doing this for a while.” Sylus shrugged, smirking.

Groaning, I slammed my head on his shoulder, “Tonight was bad enough, I can’t do this for any longer.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He was right. I didn’t have a better idea.

-

So we did just that.

I was going to give it two months. Then, it would say we were together for three months total, which looked like a completely reasonable time to test run a relationship and then call it quits.

At first, I was completely miserable. I already couldn’t stand Sylus as a friend, how could I stand him as my ‘boyfriend’? After that night at the Ball, to my dismay, he completely won everybody over. It made me feel like I had to put more effort into faking all of this.

The extravagant gifts sent to my work started getting sent to my place too. I told him he didn’t have to send them to me outside of work, let alone at all, but he always insisted so he could “stay in character”.

Whether it was convincing me to let him take me out to fancy places, like dinner or a show, it was always just to keep him ‘in character’. I think he just liked using that excuse so I would be forced to hang out with him and not be able to deny or complain about it.

Though, after a bit, it became easy to slip into a groove.

I started to not mind the talk about Sylus; everything started to become bearable, and dare I say it, kind of fun.

We had played with the claw machines once, and he won a white cat plushie. Jokingly, I had told him it looks exactly like him, and snapped a picture of the cat next to his face to prove a point.

I made that photo my wallpaper, to make things more realistic. It freaked me out for a while whenever I’d open my phone, but I came to like it after a while. Sylus looked kind of cute in the photo, his expression mocking the plushies. He looked kind, warm, a soft look on his face you didn’t see on him often. The more I saw the photo, the more it made me smile.

I began looking forward to his calls, his texts. He’d call me to say good morning, or tell me goodnight, even if he was in the middle of a meeting. The ‘fake dates’ became less uncomfortable as I grew more accustomed to the situation we had put ourselves into. The roles we were playing came easier and easier with time.

Which was causing a problem.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way my body would flush when he touched me, or how my once strong demeanor around him would start to falter. Words and actions of his that would be fast to anger me, quickly changed into something else.

I was starting to care about him. How annoying.

There was one day when Sylus decided he was going to pick me up from work. “Your coworkers will think it's cute.” He had said, and who was I to deny a free ride home.

He showed up on his bike in his leather jacket, in all his badass glory. Leaning against the bike, he stood up straight and smiled at me when I came outside. As time had gone on, Sylus was slowly becoming less hard and uncaring towards me. He began treating me like I was fragile, always so gentle with me. Him getting into character I suppose.

Sylus held his hand out towards me, and when I took it, he pulled me into his chest. I squealed, laughing at the sudden gesture.

“They’re looking,” He said, glancing at a few of my coworkers still inside, watching us intensely, “Kiss me.”

I choked, “What?”

He grabbed my chin, tilting it up slightly. He cocked his head to the side a bit, almost as if to ask, ‘is this okay?’.

Nodding my head yes, Sylus smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. For how aggressive he can be as the leader of Onychinus, the kiss was unusually soft. I had imagined kissing him, for all of this, and I never expected him to be the type to be so kind and gentle.

My blood was rushing in my ears and I thought I was going to melt under his hands. I didn’t realize just how bad I subconsciously wanted this until it was happening, and I wanted more. I wanted to kiss him so hard I could steal the air from his lungs, I wanted to grip his shirt so tightly my knuckles turned white because I could finally have him.

When he pulled away, and kissed the corner of my eye, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t just care about him, I wanted him. I wanted Sylus to be mine, I wanted this to be real, I wanted-

No, I couldn’t want anything.

It would never work. Our lives were too different, we were too different, everything would be doomed from the start. He was a faraway dream that would never come true. He could never be what I wanted.

I always wanted security, someone stable and safe. Sylus could never give me that.

So why do I want him so badly?

-

It was my friend's birthday party.

I had invited Sylus, because what had originally been a fake relationship to get a creep coworker off my back, spread like a wildfire to a fake relationship that was now known by all my friends.

I only invited him because I knew it would be strange if I showed up without him.

After he kissed me, and my feelings became a living hell to deal with, I started to pull back; started to psych myself out mentally, constantly spending time just trying to convince myself how bad we would be for each other. Trying to will myself to hate him again, go back to where I was two months ago. When Sylus was a nuisance, an annoying pest.

I don’t even really think he noticed. Or if he did, I couldn’t tell.

When we got to the party, the music and laughter could be heard from outside, a drastic change from the almost silent car ride. Sylus tried to make conversation, and I shut him down almost every time.

We walked in, and my friends all greeted him with easy familiarity. They gave him hugs, pats on the back, and he was welcomed effortlessly.

I stood a distance away as he laughed with my friends, and my chest began to hurt. Guilt, dread, I felt doomed. He wasn’t meant to be here, he was never meant to be here. Sylus doesn’t belong with my friends. Sylus doesn’t belong with me.

None of this is real. All of this is one little lie that spun into a web of something so much bigger, and I’m stuck in it.

He looks happy with them, happy with my friends. Happy in my space, with my people. How could he? He’s an intruder, he knows it.

I knew tonight was the night I was done. This couldn’t go on any longer. No more playing house with Sylus, no more pretending. We’re adults, and this whole thing was so childish, and it ends now.

I stepped outside, sitting on the back patio. The night air was cold, and I wasn’t sure if it was the sharp air of my distress that was making my lungs constrict.

“There you are.”

I didn’t turn around to meet the voice, just kept staring into the trees ahead.

Sylus stood beside me, running his fingers through the top of my hair. I relished the feeling, ‘one last time, it’s okay’.

He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask why I was out here, if I was okay. I was happy for that, it could give me another reason to be mad at him. To hate him again. To try and rile up all my old feelings, stir old bitterness.

“I want to go home.” I finally said, breaking the silence.

We got in the car, this time he didn’t try to speak. His face was hard again, the soft look long gone. I think, in a way, he knew too. He knows this is for the better.

I said goodbye, told him goodnight before he left. Told him to drive safely.

It had been two months, that’s what I gave him. It was time for it to be over anyways. I changed my wallpaper, changed his name back. I didn’t care if I had to deal with Nicholas at my job anymore, anything was better than the gutted feeling I got from every interaction with Sylus. Nothing was worth that.

The next day, it was radio silence. For the first time in two months, there was nothing. No good morning, no texts throughout the day, no calls to tell me goodnight; and that just continued. For days. Silence.

I had perfected the speech I was going to tell my coworkers, “We gave it our best, but it just wasn’t going to work out between us.” It was reassurance for them, and myself.

It just wasn’t going to work out between us.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[cybrasigilism]

Hi!! I’ve been reading a few of your works and I love your writing sm!! I’ve never done a request to a writer before, so I hope I’m not too vague or ambiguous (but I’m thinking what I’m about to ask could be TOO specific 💀), but I wanted to request an NSFW writing of Choi Su-Bong (Thanos) as a sub (and if you can, could you add a thing or two about edging him and/or overstimming him?). Personally, I’d preferably have them written as headcanons BUT whatever works best for you is most important, so I won’t mind whatever you decide to do :)

And if you’re uncomfortable with the request, ofc feel free to ignore! I appreciate it in advance if you do decide to write it, and I do hope you have a lovely day ❤️❤️

you won’t ever catch me turning down a thanos request, not while i live and breathe 😈🙏

TYSM FOR YOUR KIND WORDS BTW!! hopefully i did your vision justice :>

Submissive Headcanons! (Thanos/Choi Su-Bong/Player 230)

warning: smut and all things of the like (if you’re not used to seeing this warning on my page idk what to tell you) | not proofread | lowercase intended | sub!thanos | overstimulation | edging | begging | mommy kink if you squint | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: we as a squid game society need more sub!thanos content, i’m happy to contribute my fair share. idk if this is ooc or not, because honestly i can see this guy being a total switch, but do with that what you will! enjoy :3 (lowkey running out of gifs for these stinkabutts) PS this may not be a read for you if mommy kink stuff makes you uncomfortable! i have many other thanos works that don’t contain that bc i know its not everyone’s cup of tea, i just thought it fit for these specific headcanons

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

  ———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———

➤ thanos did not strike you as the submissive type, the absolute 180 that his personality made from the public eye to the bedroom was so drastic you could have gotten whiplash

➤ he will for sure be on his knees for you, both literally and figuratively. this man will do anything you ask of him, just as long as it means he gets to please you.

➤ he’s definitely the type to beg. he’ll give you the puppy dog eyes and go the whole nine yards if you agree to let him between your legs

➤ makes the most whorish sounds when you fuck him, especially when you praise him, even if its the smallest thing. even if you say something as simple as “right there, fuck yeah” he’ll be all over that shit, thanking you for letting him please you like that

➤ speaking of his moans, he gets quite high pitched when you guys get into it. i’m not talking anything crazy, just a lot higher than what you could have been expecting.

➤ some of the things you may expect thanos to say while you guys fuck can include:

“oh god, please keep fucking my cock, just like that”

“am i making you feel good, mommy? yeah?”

will straight up just call you mommy through his whimpers and whines if he’s too far gone

➤ goes crazy when you give him hickeys or bite his neck at any point that you can, whether it be before you guys have even stripped, as your jerking him off or while your actively grinding on his dick, he can’t get enough of it

➤ cries during rough sex, no further questions

➤ needs you to be touching him at all points of the sexual journey, loves when you rest your hands on his shoulders/chest as you ride him

➤ likes getting whipped THAT DAMN WIND AGAIN—

➤ goes ballistic when you pull his hair, the slutty sounds really show up then

➤ acts like he doesn’t like being edged, but he’s a sucker for it.

“fuck please…mommy just let me cum, oh fuck”

“i’ll do anything, i just need it so bad, i wan’ it p-lease”

➤ loves when you restrain him, it can be with anything. handcuffs, rope, your own two hands, ANYTHING

➤ choke him when he’s close, better yet, choke him while you edge him.

➤ he will cry when being overstimulated (trust you guys have a safeword set in place for overstimulating, as can be said for any other experimenting)

➤ loves physical touch during aftercare, it doesn’t have to be straight up cuddling, but just you touching/caressing him in any way at all

———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———

thanks so much for reading! as per usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested!

have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💌

tags: @gongyoosgf @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[kl0ud69]

“more daddy”

[milktrician]

Hello hello! :D

SQH-SY siblings au for the ask game, please?

I'm pretty sure I wrote this after someone wrote a text post about the idea but idk if I would be able to track that down, or if it existed at all and I'm misremembering. Anyway, I didn't really have a set plot in mind after I wrote this short snippet other than it would be very funny for Shen Yuan to try and actively sabotague Shang Qinghua's efforts to become head disciple of An Ding while looking as innocent as possible. I don't think I'm going to write anymore for this idea as I have other wips I want to focus on but feel free anyone to write out their own interpretation! Anyways, here's what I wrote a few weeks back:

[ Activation code: “Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel.” System automatically triggered ]

What? What the fuck is this?

[ Host is in the midst of transmigration! ]

No—what? This is a dream, Airplane’s stupid fucking writing must have made me pass out!

Rrgh! I need to punch the fucker IRL!

[ Host would like to see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky? ]

YES!

[ Beginning transmigration… ]

What?

“Oh! It’s a boy!”

“W-Wait what? Doctor, didn’t you say it was going to be a girl?”

What the hell?

He feels himself get wrapped within a cloth, and suddenly he's enveloped in warmth. He’s being…held?

Any attempt to move his limbs is caught by the cloth wrapped around him. His tongue presses against toothless gums, and his vision is too blurry to make out anything.

No…

“Haha, well surprises always happen! Did you have a name in mind if you two had another son?”

“Ah, well I suppose we never gave any thought to it. A-Yu, you’re always good at coming up with names with your little stories, how about you name your little brother?”

No…

“You…ah, shouldn’t it be up to you two? Like erm. Tradition or something? Like this is a whole baby I sh-shouldn’t be responsible for the name he’ll be called for the rest of his life!”

A woman then laughs above him, 

“A-Yu, I think I’m much too tired to think right now. You’re a smart boy, any name you come up with I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

He…died. 

Transmigration’s real!?

AND HE’S A BABY!

Oh—whoever this person is, please don’t name him something stupid.

[ Don’t worry Host! This System has you covered! ]

“…Yuan?” Whoever “A-Yu” is, he said that like he wasn’t even sure of it himself! Thank god he still has his old name in this life at least.

“Shang Yuan…I like that.”

System…where have I transmigrated?

[ This System operates in line with the design concept “YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB”; we hope to provide you with the best possible experience. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance to your wish, ‘see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ ]

[ Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! ]

What now?!

[ User has completed his wish! ]

I…did?

[ Entering Limited Sandbox Mode! Feel free to explore within the constraints of the plot! ]

[ We hope you enjoy the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way! ]

WHAT?

“Ah! He’s crying, give him here.”

“Ahh. You’re so cute lil bro! Cutest baby in the whole wide world!”

A-Yu, or Shang Hongyu, is his new older brother in this life and is maybe eight or nine years older than him. He’s apparently very smart for his age, and their parents are already tutoring him to take over their father’s business.

He hears his older brother sniffle,

“Too bad you’ll probably never see me again in a few years.” he says, “I’ve gotta head to Cang Qiong and make my way up An Ding in the next few years.”

Hold on a second.

His older brother holds him tight against his chest, and from here he can feel his breath shudder.

“I’ve never had a sibling by blood before.”

He’s brought to his sibling’s bed and his brother lays next to him lazily.

“Just a few more years and you guys won’t have to see me again.” his brother says to noone, “They’re…surprisingly good parents, didi. Once they don’t have me to worry about, they can spoil you as much as you want.”

Geez, what kind of weird complex do you have?

Though. Shang surely is a common surname right? Lots of Shangs to go to An Ding!

System where in the timeline are we?

[ System is currently in maintenance for future updates! ]

Fine. He’ll figure it out his own way!

His own chubby fingers are able to grab onto his brother’s robe.

“Gege.” He says, to the best of his ability with his shitty little baby mouth.

He doesn’t expect his brother to burst out crying and start to hug him tight.

[womenwoso]

Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.

Hard questions

Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.

“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?

Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.

For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.

“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”

Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”

Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”

Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”

Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.

“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”

Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”

Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”

Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”

Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself …  the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”

Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”

Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.

With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”

Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”

[dailyrothko]

Hey there! As always, I absolutely love that you are allowing so many people to view Rothko's incredible paintings, and appreciate the effort you put into it. But I have a question - do you have painters you'd recommend that also work with light and colour? Maybe other favourites of yours? Thank you!

Thank you.

You ask a complicated question as it's open to interpretation of the word "light". All color involves light but I think I get the meaning in the way it is applied to Rothko. I think very few people use light in that definition, but an awful lot of painters have great color sense.

Jules Olitski I think paints in a manner that is similar but simpler

Morris Louis had a great transparency in his work and great colors

and of course Helen Frankenthaler

Now Willem de Kooning is not thought of quite the same but he's the master of what we see now as ABEX so often and his colors are great

Rothko I think was moved by Fra Angelico when in Italy, there's some dispute because he called him the "Toughest" but I believe he meant it in a good way and comparatively with other painters of the era. his colors are wild and modern

Franz Kline is known for black and white but his color things are excellent

One of my favorite artists and colorists is Munch

The two artists who really influenced Rothko with color are Milton Avery. a friend and I would say a teacher. Rothko not only shares some color sense with Avery but his tonality on the surface is very similar.

and then here's the painting that Rothko spent all his time staring at when it came to MOMA , Which is Matisse "red studio" in a bath of venetian red that we know made an impression

Rothko said “When you looked at that painting,” he said, “you became that color, you became totally saturated with it.”

Obviously this answer is not very comprehensive. If you'd like to get more specific on this question, happy to help

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Heyyyy I was wondering if your not busy maybe you could write my request!

Sae-byeok x fem!reader in squid game. Kinda like a golden retriever x black cat where Sae-byeok looks after reader.

If you actually end up writing this thx sm and take care!!!

Love:

-🤍

fem!plus size reader, wc: 589.

a/n: i've been on my sae-byeok kick as of late! this is so fluffy it's actually terrible, but this woman makes me so HEHEHEHE

cw! deok-su being nasty :[

Sae-byeok hovered behind you like a shadow, looming like a parrot perched on your shoulder.

You don’t mind it, because it’s nice knowing you have someone looking after you, though you don’t really know why she chose you out of all people.

You aren’t weak, and you’d like to think it was your smarts and pure willpower that’s gotten you to where you are now, but maybe she sees something you don’t. You don’t really know whether or not that’s a compliment, unfortunately.

Tensions were rising exponentially as bodies fell and the prize pot got bigger; it’s to a point where you’re not really sure who you can trust. 

It’s obvious with the way everyone’s split up into their preferred groups that they feel the same way. You’d like to think that your group were good people… or at least good adjacent. It was impossible to be good and still end up in a place like this. 

She sits behind you on the steps to the bunks as you munch down on your pitiful lunch; just an apple and a bottle of water. There’s no complaints from you, though, as the juices from your surprisingly red apple drip down your chin.

There’ll be time to worry about that later, but you stop when you hear a scoff come from behind you. “Are you always such a messy eater?” Sae-byeok murmurs.

You turn around with a slight pout, water still glistening on your face. “How are you not hungry?” You ask through a large chunk of apple in your mouth. She just stares at you and sighs, pulling her sleeve down over her hand.

You watch her curiously as she cups the side of your face, using her cloth covered wrist to swipe through the mess.

“Disgusting.” She chides, all the while. You blink rapidly and almost choke as you swallow. “Thanks.” You mumble shyly. She just grunts.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Comes from an approaching Deok-su. 

Your body jolts so hard you almost fall from where you’re sitting. You look at the tattooed thug from beneath your lashes, scooting backwards so your back hits the front of Sae-byeok’s legs.

“Screw off.” Sounds the girl behind you. “I’m not doing anything.” He says with a smirk. “Unless I’m interrupting something.” He says suggestively. 

“You’re not interrupting shit. Screw off before I make you.”

The smirk slips from his face and he steps forward threateningly. “Is that a threat, you bitch?” 

You feel Sae-byeok stand up behind you, stepping around your frozen body to hide you from his dangerous thoughts.

“I’ll make it one.” She spits. “Listen here –” He’s stopped by one of his “friends,” putting a hand on his shoulder. “Boss.” He murmurs, gesturing to the left of him at a guard that tightened his grip on his gun warningly.

“You just got lucky.” He growls, snatching his shoulder out of the man’s grip, storming off.

Sae-byeok ops to sit in front of you this time, and you tug on her jacket. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” You hissed in worry. “It doesn’t matter.” She says plainly, glaring off at the man who had resettled in his area. “He was going to come and spit his filth regardless.” She adds.

“Still, I don’t like when you get on his radar like that.” You mumble. “I can handle myself.” She said back.

It’s you I worry about, are the words that are left unsaid.

You send her an appreciative squeeze to her arm anyway, anxious – and flustered – butterflies swarming in your stomach.

[navybrat817]

Hiiii Navy- how is our biker Bucky? I'm excited that his reader is a nurse because I am also a nurse...!

I'm glad you're excited, and I may have to get more of your insight as this goes on. And how he's doing...

Thinking About You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's thinking about you after meeting you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mix of fluff and dirty thoughts, love at first sight, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'll try to post more of this AU once more. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s thinking about your beautiful eyes and smile, but how you’re much more than a pretty face and how you must really be some sort of angel. You were a nurse, after all. Nurses helped provide comfort, protection, and care to others. You helped people heal. And, fuck, do you look good in white.

He’s thinking about how you listened to him when he talked. You were actually interested in his writing and the bar. He hoped you’d stop by at some point. Maybe he could convince you to stay after closing so the two of you could have the place to yourself. He’d even share some of his writing with you.

He’s thinking about how your eyes will light up when he brings the club to the blood drive tomorrow. At least, he hopes they’ll light up and that you don’t be afraid. His brothers could come across as intimidating from a first glance, but they were all good guys and the drive was for a good cause. You also didn’t seem put off that he was a biker.

He’s thinking about what an idiot he is for not asking for your number, and how he should’ve gone after you when you left. If he had your number right now, he’d message you just to say hi. He wasn’t leaving the drive tomorrow without asking for it.

He’s thinking about what your past relationships were like. How did your exes treat you? He’ll treat you well. Why didn’t the relationships last? Did anyone break your trust? If someone hurt you he’ll take the pain away. If the pain is no longer there he’ll do his best to help you should it surface unexpectedly.

He’s thinking about how he wants to take care of you, how he wants to learn your love language, and earn your trust. He wants to be your friend and have you confide in him, to learn your fears so he can protect you from them, and to learn how to make you smile again when you’re feeling down or hurt.

He’s thinking about how he wants to confide in you, too. To be vulnerable and open. It isn’t easy to let people in, but you make it seem effortless for him. He wants you to see every side of himself, every shadow, and tell you every story about every scar and tattoo.

He’s thinking about you as he lays in bed, fisting his cock, imagining the sounds you’d make as you lay beneath him. Or on top of him. How you’ll melt on his tongue. How blissed out you’d look when you fall apart. He knows you’ll feel like heaven when he’s inside you if you ever let him get that far.

He’s thinking about you post orgasm when he catches his breath. It’s a little scary that he already wants you to be his girl, and he refuses to believe it’s just infatuation. It’s something deeper. And if you give him a chance, he’ll make sure you never regret it.

I guess we can consider this part of Ficlet Friday? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival. 

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you? 

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you. 

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you. 

“Smells good,” Sy startles you. 

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack. 

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?” 

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day. 

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers. 

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom. 

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar. 

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it. 

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard. 

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?” 

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying. 

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.” 

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time. 

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable. 

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly. 

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short. 

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?” 

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.” 

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles. 

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.” 

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal. 

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.” 

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?” 

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?” 

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.” 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--” 

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?” 

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?” 

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.” 

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise. 

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--” 

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.” 

“Don,” Sy grits. 

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.” 

“I’m not,” Sy insists. 

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.” 

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.” 

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls. 

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--” 

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--” 

“Don’t--” 

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--” 

“Don, you have some respect for her--” 

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.” 

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves. 

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs. 

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--” 

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--” 

“Stop.” 

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--” 

“You don’t treat her right--” 

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.” 

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.” 

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--” 

“I been nice, Don--” 

“Boo fucking h--” 

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.  

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be. 

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.  

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls. 

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there? 

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean? 

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.  

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove. 

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing? 

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash. 

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you. 

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.  

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop. 

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...” 

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously. 

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene. 

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly. 

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick. 

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.  

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers. 

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.” 

[warlocksoup]

── .✦ FULL: IWAIZUMI HAJIME ── .✦

CHAPTER FIVE: changes

Iwaizumi constantly feels like the rug is about to be pulled out from underneath him. 

She’s sitting cross-legged under the sun that pours in from her window, and she looks beautiful. Iwaizumi can’t stop looking at her, and thinking about whether or not she’s going to leave him. It taints the way a light summer breeze flows in through her window, how the cicadas chirp, and the way her skin looks under the sunlight, but he can’t help himself. She’s been gone before, he figures, she could be gone again. 

Half-full boxes are littered about her room, filled with old childhood books and mismatched socks and bottles of cheap perfume. Iwaizumi wraps one of them closed with packing tape. 

Her and Akaashi had talked, a lengthy conversation that Iwaizumi was not a part of, and decided it would be better if she moved out, lived with Yukie for a bit, got away from him. They don’t know if they’re going to stay friends. Iwaizumi can’t decide how he feels about this, if her eagerness to step away from him is a good sign, or if her inability to be near Akaashi is something that should make him worried. 

He decides not to think about it too much. 

“Thanks for helping me move,” she says to him, breaking the soft silence that settled between them. She stacks a few hardcover books into a box, and Iwaizumi knows he’ll end up carrying it. “I really appreciate it.” 

“”S no problem,” Iwaizumi replies, his eyes watching her hands. “Oikawa’s been wanting to go furniture shopping, so it’s a good excuse to say no. And, y’know, I just wanna help you.” 

She smiles, eyes briefly flashing up to him. “Yeah, I know you do.” 

He was needy, for a while. It was probably too much for her to put up with, but she put up with it. The texts he sent late at night, asking if she was sure about him. The cloying way he would grab at her, holding her close to his side like someone was coming to take her away from him. Constantly asking her to repeat herself, to tell him she loves him, and really, truly means it. 

But she put up with it. She watched the way insecurity would wash over him, tensing him, making him recoil, and she would take his hand, rubbing circles into his palm until he eased. She returned every text, fell into every embrace, told him repeatedly and eagerly that yes, she does love him, and yes, she means it. 

And even still, he doubts her.

She stands, and she interlocks her fingers above her head and leans back to stretch. Iwaizumi watches as the bottom of her shirt lifts to reveal her midriff. “I’m gonna go bring some of these out to the car. I need to stretch my legs.” 

“Save the heavy boxes for me,” Iwaizumi remarks, and she bends down to pick up one, filled with posters and picture frames. 

She smiles. “You know I will,” she tells him, and takes carefully placed steps out of her bedroom, heading for his car that’s parked on the street. 

And then Iwaizumi’s there, alone, sitting on the floor of her bedroom. He looks around. It’s bare now, free of photos of her and her friends, free of posters of bands she likes and shows she’s been too, free of her. It was like this the first time Iwaizumi was there, too. 

She had just moved in, when Iwaizumi first met her, and hadn’t left her mark on the walls yet. When he had kissed her then, for the first time, he thought he had never tasted anything like her. Maybe it was then, that first night, when Iwaizumi knew she was it for him. 

Iwaizumi stands. The wooden floorboards creak when he moves. Iwaizumi loves her, he’s always loved her, and he starts to wonder, surrounded by her packed up belongings, when it will be enough for him. 

It wasn’t enough to spend almost every weekend taking up space in her bed, leaving trails of kisses down her neck. It wasn’t enough to be the one that she called when she needed someone. It wasn’t enough to have her stay with him. And it’s not enough now, even with her constant proclamations of love, to ease the ache in his chest, to quell his desire for more.

He looks down at the boxes beneath him. Things are changing for her, now. And now that his thoughts are in a downwards spiral, he asks himself if they’re going to change with him, too. If it won’t be enough for her, if things will have to change, if she’ll disappear again. There’s this knot of dread that settles in the bottom of his stomach, and he thinks about it again. Her leaving him, what it would look like, how it would break him.

“Haji.” 

He turns. He sees her standing in the doorway for just a second before she approaches him, taking long strides until her arms are around his waist and her head is resting on his shoulder. His arms go around her automatically, hand splaying across the center of her back. 

She’s warm in his arms, and it makes his heartbeat slow down, feel at ease. “I love you,” she says into his chest, unprompted, just because she wanted to. 

His thumb draws circles on top of her back, and Iwaizumi figures that it’s enough. Whatever they have, it’s enough for now. 

an: special thank you to @nekozaki this is 100% dedicated to u ellie because when i say you inspired me and motivated me to actually finish this fic i mean it and i already rambled to you about it i just feel the need to say thank you again and ily <3

also i’m lowkey pretty sad to be finishing full but like i said it’s time for yn and iwa to rest and i had so much fun writing this series :,) thank you all for reading

taglist: @spicana @akaashislovee @angee444 @wyrcan @mysteriousballer1na @socoolsocoolsocool @localgaytrainwreck @kameyyy @Kr1nqu @katctm @shoujoromancelover @Geektastic84 @brilliantshoyo @nattyluvs @r4veeen @ghostreader0307 @renardiererin @bakingcuriosity @chaloume @angelichwv @amanimoon @gigiiiiilife @s777athv @acowboykisser @charlotterosea13 @mdmraz @asrichin @justtoblivious2u @exologys @kodzu-ken @scarveen @gigiiiiislife @ashyiiy @bae-ashlynn @fandomsfanficsfantasize @rowensboat @mybelovedvi @lunaarorbiter

[mrjypark]

────── "Sticky Tabs and Stolen Glances" ♪ 🎧

𝗣𝗔𝗶𝗥𝗶𝗡𝗚𝗦 ──── 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑤𝑜𝑛 x 𝑓!m reader, jungwon as your classmate 𝜗𝜚 genre . . . fluff ⟡ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ⊹ reader slaps jungwon ( >//< ) ✮

[ 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀! 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗌 appreciated ]

You were peacefully listening to your favorite songs, lost in the rhythm, when suddenly someone snatched your earphones.

"Hi," a voice greeted.

Startled, you turned sharply and, without thinking, your hand instinctively landed a slap on the intruder’s face.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, his tone laced with genuine pain.

Your eyes widened in horror as recognition dawned. It wasn’t just anyone—it was Jungwon, your class president.

"Uh-uh, sorry! J-Jungwon! Uhh, I mean, President!" you stammered, panic creeping into your voice.

Jungwon sighed, rubbing his cheek. "Don’t be so casual. Just call me Jungwon."

You blinked at him, processing his words. Then, in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, you let out a forced laugh. "Ha-ha-ha! You’re so funny!"

It sounded anything but natural. Your expression betrayed your unease as dread spread across your features. Before he could respond, you bolted to your feet.

"I-I need to go!" you blurted out, hastily walking away.

Jungwon watched you retreat, an incredulous look on his face. "What the heck just happened?" he muttered under his breath. He glanced down and noticed your earphones still in his hand. "She called me funny? I just wanted to say thanks… and now she’s forgotten her earphones. So weird."

The next day at school, you avoided Jungwon like the plague. Every time you spotted him in the hallway, you ducked into a classroom or pretended to tie your shoelaces. But it seemed luck wasn’t on your side because, during lunch, Jungwon cornered you in the library.

"Looking for these?" he said, holding up your earphones.

Your face turned crimson. "Oh! Right, thanks." You reached for them, but he pulled them back.

"Not so fast," he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Why were you acting so weird yesterday?"

"I wasn’t!" you lied, avoiding his gaze.

"Really? Because slapping your class president and then running away while calling him funny doesn’t sound very normal to me," he quipped, leaning against the table.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I panicked, okay? I thought you were… someone else."

Jungwon chuckled. "Someone else who deserves to get slapped?"

You peeked at him through your fingers, unsure if he was genuinely amused or annoyed. But his soft laugh and relaxed demeanor eased your nerves.

"Fine," you muttered, finally lowering your hands. "I’m sorry for slapping you and for… being weird."

"Apology accepted," he said with a grin. "But you owe me one."

"Owe you what?" you asked cautiously.

He shrugged. "I’ll think about it. For now, just don’t run away from me again. Deal?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "Deal."

As he handed you your earphones, his fingers brushed against yours for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of warmth through your hand. Jungwon noticed it too, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer than usual.

"See you in class," he said, walking away with a faint smile.

You stood there, heart racing, wondering if you’d just made things even weirder—or if this was the start of something new.

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 21

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 20 | Series Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 21

The Jeep was silent, except for the road noise. Javy adjusted his grip on the wheel, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he stared straight ahead.

Your eyes darted over to him, a smile teasing the corner of your lips as you rubbed your belly. “You alright, Javy?” 

His throat bobbed, eyes flitting to meet yours before returning to the road. “I can’t watch you shit on the table.”

A mortified laugh burst from your mouth as you blushed. “I don’t want you to see that either. I mean, hopefully, it doesn’t happen, but - ”

“Don’t say ‘butt,’” he groaned.

“However,” you corrected, “fingers crossed, Mom will tap you out by the time I get to the pushing stage.”

“Thank god. I love you, and I love baby Seresin-Machado” - he’d placed a hand on your belly during the parent introductions and enjoyed the appreciative looks from the other moms when you corrected them about him being the godfather - “but watching you give birth might put me off sex forever.”

Smiling, you shifted in your seat and shook your head. The first birthing class had been interesting. Most of the time had been spent watching a movie you hadn’t seen since 8th grade - The Miracle of Birth. While mildly traumatizing to watch as a middle schooler, it was worse seeing it now, knowing that you were a few short weeks away from experiencing it. 

But what was even more amusing was watching Javy squirm. He silently gagged, hand over his mouth as he white-knuckled watching the baby crown. “Didn’t you watch it in sex ed or something?”

“No!” he huffed. “We got a banana and condom, and how to make sure that didn’t happen.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out your phone and hitting record. “Hey Jake - you wanted an update on how the classes went. Just here to tell you that we’ve traumatized your best friend.”

“Hangman,” Javy’s voice was solemn, and you flipped the camera toward him. His eyes darted away from the road briefly. “You owe me. This was worse than some of the shi- stuff…” he corrected with a grimace “that we saw during second class Spring Break.”

“Oh god, do I even want to know?” you asked. His answering grin was teasing.

“Your husband was pretty much the worst when we were in the Academy. And flight school. And FRO… actually, he’s just the worst in general. Why’d you marry him again?” 

“He got me pregnant.” 

“Well, he clearly didn’t pay attention in sex ed,” Coyote laughed, and the camera panned back to you. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You were smiling - really smiling, the corners of your eyes and nose crinkling - as you rolled your eyes. 

“Your daughter demands a baked potato, so we’re heading to dinner. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You blew a kiss at the camera before the video stopped. The text had been waiting for him when he got off duty, and he wished it wasn’t too late to call. 

Jake anxiously counted the days until he got home. It felt like a race against time, especially when you hit 35 weeks pregnant in a few days. While you and Dr. Shearer had said that Sloane didn’t seem like she would arrive anytime soon, he could only hope that his daughter listened to him and held on for as long as possible. And instead of hurrying home to your side, he was stuck in Japan again, the carrier taking its slow route back to the US. 

But it wasn’t just a race against time to get home for the birth that was keeping him up at night - Jake felt the gut-wrenching need to get home to you. 

Guilt had eaten at him since seeing you cry on Christmas and worsened with the talk the day after. While he knew the deployment was hard, you’d done a good job hiding how much you struggled. Jake hated himself for not catching it. For not questioning when you were up late when he texted, only relishing the opportunity to talk to you. Not noticing that the smiles you sent him in pictures and videos didn’t seem genuine or asking about the tears he sometimes thought he saw. Allowing himself to be distracted when you changed the subject the few times he tried to get a straight answer out of you. 

“We didn’t even know each other when we got married.”

His ex-wife’s words, casually stated but sharp as knives, taunted him. And, as much as he tried to drown them out, doubt crept in whenever he thought about you hiding your feelings from him. 

Yes, the situation was different. You’d been together for over a year, not just three months, when you got married. And he’d thought about proposing for a while instead of it being a drunken decision. 

But you were pregnant when he finally did it. Jake couldn’t bring himself to regret Sloane - he loved his little girl more than he ever thought was possible for someone he hadn’t met yet - but… would you have said yes if she wasn’t a factor? 

“We’re not going to sweat the short deployments.”

You’d said that before he went to Vegas for two weeks. Right before calling him on his shit… trying to pull away when he realized he’d fallen hard for you. Bracing himself for another relationship ending because of his career. 

Jake never thought you’d cheat, even though that’s where you’d thought his mind went. No, he was thinking about the toll being apart would take on your relationship. The two weeks away seemed like a big deal back then, but now, at the tail end of five months apart, it was almost laughable that he’d worried back then.

Would you have married him if you knew this was your future - alone, pregnant, and halfway across the world from your husband? Hell, would you have let him stay with you in that grocery store parking lot or sent him packing? Talked to him when he approached you in the hangar, phone clutched in hand and taking a picture of the F-35 tail?

Was it what you still wanted? 

Was he what you wanted?

The email from Admiral Tritz hit his inbox sometime overnight, congratulating him on being approved by the selection board to promote to Lieutenant Commander. Just like he’d promised after dropping the bomb that Jake was deploying on short notice. The official list wasn’t released - there was no notice from NAVYADMIN, and that wouldn’t go out until May - but Tritz had said he would be merit-promoted for the next fiscal year. 

Accepting the promotion and pinning on those oak leaves would require reenlistment. After completing his initial service commitment, his current contract had only a year and a half left.

By the time the list was officially published, he would have just one year before never having to put you through another deployment. You wouldn’t have to worry about moving - they wouldn’t give him orders with so little time left - so you wouldn’t have to leave a job you liked. You could buy a house in Lemoore or any place of your choosing.

Sloane could grow up in one place instead of moving around every few years like the two of you had. 

Jake would be there to watch his little girl grow up, not missing months of her life when he deployed. 

Before, accepting the promotion wouldn’t have been a question - he’d always imagined himself serving his 20 years, if not more. The Navy was a way of life, and Jake Seresin felt the most alive sitting in the cockpit. 

But that was before you.

Before he fell in love and realized how hard being apart was. Before discovering he would be a father and only having a few days to be part of the pregnancy. Before realizing what it meant to be away from his wife and kid for long periods. 

In times like this, Jake wished he had someone to talk to about juggling family life and a military career. While a few people in his squadron had kids, he didn’t feel close enough to ask them how they managed, and none of his close friends had them. As much as Mav was a mentor as an aviator, he hadn’t been around to help raise his soon-to-be stepdaughter. The idea of asking his father was laughable and served more as a cautionary tale of what not to do. 

But as Jake changed into his PT gear for a workout after making plans to meet up with Rooster in the wardroom for dinner, it dawned on him that he did have someone he could talk to.

Sorry for the early text, but do you have time to talk this weekend?

Even though it was almost three in the morning in Florida, the message was read immediately, and a text bubble popped up.

Everything okay? 

Shit. He probably thought that something was wrong with you or the baby. Quickly, Jake responded - Yeah, everyone’s fine. I just wanted your input on something. 

I’m free now. I'm just enjoying my coffee before work.

After hesitating, he sat at his desk and called his father-in-law. The call was answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Jake. What’s on your mind?” 

Shifting on the couch, you shrugged, “I don’t know.” Helen didn't say anything. You hated the silence. To stall, you sipped your decaf coffee while thinking through her question. “I just…I had ideas for how our first big deployment would go.”

“Such as?" 

“Not being pregnant,” you smirked. “Sending sexy pictures in care packages, talking when we could… it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d keep living my life, and he would live his.”

“Your husband doesn’t find you sexy?”

Snorting, you blushed. You recalled him bending you over the bathroom vanity, making you watch as he fucked you in that damn cowboy hat and told you how sexy you were. Jake stroking his cock in the shower when you visited, his gaze drinking you in. His words echoed in your ears - “Mama, I’ve dreamed about this.” 

“He’s…” you cleared your throat, “fine with how I look.” The corner of Helen’s mouth twitched as she raised an eyebrow. Your blush deepened, thinking of all the pictures and videos he’d taken in the hotel room, whispering how they would join his rotation. “My husband is stuck in a floating city in the middle of the ocean with most of the other people being men. Turning him on wasn’t exactly hard. I’m just lucky - ” you cut yourself off. 

“Lucky?” she prompted.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, placing the coffee on the table. “Jake was married before, and his ex cheated on him when he was deployed. He worried a lot about that and her health stuff their whole marriage. And his dad cheated on his mom all the time - they’re a whole different set of problems,” you added with a roll of your eyes. “So he is huge on not cheating. Which, of course, I would never do. And he would never. But my husband is really attractive.” Pulling out your phone, you flipped through your pictures, smiling as you landed on one of him mowing the lawn shirtless. Helen’s eyes flicked toward it when you turned the phone around. “I see the looks he gets. I trust him, but…”

“You don’t feel attractive.” 

Nodding, tears welled in your eyes, and a spike of irritation shot through you. “I hate this. I’m not this girl - I don’t need male validation to feel good about myself. I don’t need a man for anything! And yet I find myself sitting here, fucking crying because Jake's gone, and I feel like shit, I’m not happy, and I’m really fucking lonely. And I just…” Hot tears fell as you bit your lower lip, trying to hold back a sob. Helen leaned forward and held out a tissue box. Taking one, you dabbed at your eyes and nose. “I thought it’d be easier. I thought I could handle being alone and doing all this because I saw my mom do it.”

“You’re not meeting the standard you set for yourself.” 

“I told Jake I could do this, and I’m... I’m failing at it.” Blowing out a breath, you shook your head. “I-I’m making this harder on him than it has to be. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me falling apart at home.”

“You’re not as important as his job.” 

“No. I mean, yes,” you quickly corrected, twisting the tissue into knots. “Maybe? In a different way.” Helen stayed silent, tilting her chin to invite you to continue. “His job is dangerous, and he loves it. But all it would take is a split second for something to go wrong. For him to get distracted and pull his focus away. A-and…”

“You’re a distraction.” Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you nodded. “Have you spoken to your husband about how you’re feeling?” 

Sloane’s foot tapped your fingers, and you smiled faintly at the memory of his words on the trip she’d been conceived on. How he’d used your question about if the mission was dangerous as the opening to negotiations to get married. “He’s one of the best. He’d tell me not to worry.” 

“I’ll take that as you haven’t told him?” When you nodded, she set aside her notepad and pencil. “It’s easy for someone we love to tell us not to worry, but it doesn’t make it go away. Did you feel like this before you were pregnant?”

“Not as badly. I worried, but it wasn’t like this.” Helen nodded.

“Different things can contribute to increased anxiety. There are biological factors - hormone and neurochemical changes - that you can be experiencing. We can work with your doctor on medications for those or get you referred to a psychiatrist if you’d prefer specialist care. However, your environment and experiences can also be a contributing factor. Have you heard of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy?” 

“No.”

She grabbed her notebook and flipped to a blank page, writing three words and drawing arrows between them. “CBT looks at the relationship between our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors and how they influence each other. For example, let’s say I’m at work and have a thought that I’m not good at my job. What emotions might that bring up?”

“I don’t know… embarrassment.”

“That’s one. What about others?”

“Frustration, anger… resentment?”

“Maybe fear?” Helen offered, and you nodded. “So these emotions are brewing,” she pointed at ‘emotions’ on the page before moving her pencil to ‘behaviors.’ “How might those emotions show up in my work?”

“Not volunteering for stuff or calling out to avoid the problem.”

“Maybe isolating as well? Quitting?”

“That seems pretty extreme.”

“It does,” she agreed. “But if I continue to have this thought of ‘I’m not good enough’ and these emotions of embarrassment, frustration, anger, and resentment circling in my brain, that thought gets coded in there. It can create what we call a schema or a core belief. Core beliefs are our mental shortcuts in interpreting the world and spin off automatic thoughts. What comes to mind when I use that term?”

“Subconscious thoughts,” you said, putting your hands on your belly when Sloane kicked. “Intrusive ones, maybe?”

“Automatic thoughts are just our brain processing stimuli as we go about our day - they can be good, bad, or neutral depending on the situation. It all depends on how we interpret that thought by running it through our core beliefs. Going back to the example, let’s say I mess up at work. With that core belief of ‘I’m not good enough,’ what kind of automatic thoughts might shoot out?”

“It’s more proof I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Yup. And it loops in all of those negative emotions we talked about earlier. So what we want to do is challenge those thoughts - push back on them to change our emotions and behaviors. How might I challenge that thought of messing up as more proof that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Mistakes happen.”

“‘To err is human’ and all that,” Helen smiled. “I can give myself a break. By thinking of an alternative realistic thought, I’ve pushed back on a cognitive distortion - a mental bias or flawed thinking. Like perfectionism, or ignoring the positive things in favor of focusing on the negative.” Taking a breath, she set her notepad down and leveled you with a look. You tensed. “Would you be okay if I share some things I’ve picked up on in our last few sessions?”

“Sure,” you said hesitantly. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you see yourself as a very independent person.”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No,” Helen said quickly. “Independence is a good thing. However, it can cause some… friction… when your desire for autonomy and self-reliance butt up against situations where having a partner or someone to rely on might be beneficial. When you fixate on how you think things should be done, rather than how they are.” You just stared at her for a long moment.

“So you’re saying I’m stubborn.” The words fell from your lips, an accusation you’d heard many times. 

“You have high expectations for yourself. From what we’ve discussed, a lot of responsibility fell on you at a young age. When your dad deployed, it was just you and your mom, and you moved a lot. And that combination instilled a lot of independence in you. It made it easier for you to adapt to new situations and face challenges and made you stronger. And” - she tilted her head again - “you got a front-row seat to see how the military can influence a marriage. That up-close view contributes to your black-and-white thinking - you expect yourself to be that perfect spouse where you are independent and don’t need your husband because otherwise, you’re failing and letting him down by wanting and needing that extra support. You’re not allowing for the grey area, where you may succeed in some aspects but struggle in others. And, at the same time, you’re also measuring yourself against Jake’s ex-wife and allowing that to shape your belief about how to be the best partner for him - one who doesn’t place demands on him or cause additional stress.” 

You blinked at her, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks. “And here I thought I just had control issues,” you said, trying and failing to sound flippant. 

Helen leaned forward and offered you the tissue box. It took you a moment to realize your cheeks were damp again. “Control and perfectionism go hand in hand. Those cognitive distortions won’t be confined only to your marriage but will show up in other aspects of your life. Normally, I wouldn’t tell a client that all at once. But does any of that ring true?” 

Clearing your throat, you nodded. “M-my therapist in college said something kinda similar. But am I… are we,” your hand fell to your stomach again. “Am I setting my daughter up for the same problem? Raising Sloane, knowing that Jake will be gone at times?” 

Helen encouraged you to do something to take care of yourself after the session. Leaving her office, you cried in the car, overwhelmed and happy you’d taken the rest of the day off. The house was too quiet when you got home, and you quickly changed out of your work clothes for something more comfortable. Sitting before the television, you let your eyes blur, thinking what you could do for yourself. Reuben had swung by your office and invited you to the bar after work for drinks and games, but you didn’t want to deal with the bar scene. You always got dirty looks for being there, even when you were nursing a soda. 

The sound of waves shook you from your stupor, and you watched the cruise commercial before pushing off the couch. It had been too long since you’d been to the beach. You couldn’t help but think about the last time you’d stepped foot in the ocean, coral sand underfoot as Jake held you in Japan. In Florida, you’d made sure to go to the beach at least a few times a year, and always before New Year's Eve. It had been a nice way to wrap up the year, looking for small sand dollars in the surf and giving yourself time to reflect.  

Throwing an overnight bag together, you sent a message to the group chat saying you were passing on the night out. Evening traffic held you up as you headed out of town, directions for the nearest beach pulled up. It was a two-hour drive, and you had to stop frequently to use the bathroom, but it felt good to be doing something. Hotels in the area were slightly cheaper in the off-season, and you found a cute bed and breakfast with ocean views. 

When Jake responded to your text from the harbor when you’d grabbed dinner, you knew his question about the wisdom of being so far away from the hospital came from a place of love and concern, but it annoyed you. So when he asked if you were available for a call, you just texted back three words: I need this. Leaving the phone on the bed, you walked to the sliding glass doors, pushed them open, and collapsed into one of the patio chairs. Waves crashed in the bay across the street, and you let your eyes drift closed while listening to the noise from the nearby restaurant. When you went back inside, you had a few missed calls from him and two voice notes. 

“If goin’ to the beach is what you needed, I’m glad you’re there. I just… never mind. I’m gonna play basketball with the guys. I’ll try you again when I’m done.” You felt a pang of hurt and regret at his frustrated tone and the abrupt cut-off. Your thumb hovered over the second note for a long moment before closing your eyes and tapping the screen. Jake’s sigh greeted you, “I love you, darlin’. I miss you. Do whatever you need to to feel better, but don’t cut me out. Please.”

Sniffling, you brushed away the tears on your cheeks and held the phone up to record your voice note. “I’m sorry, babe. I love you, too. I had therapy earlier and feel a little… off. Gonna take a bath, so give me a call when you’re free.”

The hot water felt good as you sank into the tub, your belly exposed to the cool air. The parenting class had suggested a thermometer for the bathtub, and you’d tossed the little otter in to test it, along with some lavender-scented Epsom salts. Dr. Shearer’s nurse had given you the go-ahead for a hot bath - within reason - when you’d called earlier and asked if it was okay. Lowering yourself so the water covered your shoulders, you felt a smile tug at your lips. It felt so good to have a hot bath, even if you did have to promise to keep it short and a cold bottle of water within reach. Closing your eyes, you relaxed in the tub, smiling at the small waves that Sloane made when she shifted. 

When the timer sounded, you groaned and turned it off. The water drained around you, lapping against your breasts, and you hesitated before drying off your hands and reaching for the phone again. Using your toes to close the drain, you held the camera up and stared at yourself on the screen. Your cheeks were flushed, and your hair piled on top of your head, loose strands curling around your face with the heat. Feeling slightly foolish, you sank lower in the water, so it just covered your nipples and snapped a picture. Quickly locking the screen, you got out of the tub and dried off. The towel couldn’t wrap around your front when you tucked it around your chest, your belly-busting through the gap. Feeling ridiculous again, you took another picture before getting dressed.

After turning on the gas fireplace, you climbed into bed to ward off the January chill. The flames flickered across the room as you cuddled with your pregnancy pillow, wishing it was your husband. Grabbing your phone, you pulled up the pictures you’d just taken and studied them. They weren’t… horrible. As much as you felt like a beached whale, they weren’t the worst.

Groaning, you let the phone fall before lifting it again and flipping to your notes app. Helen told you to start tracking your negative thoughts about yourself and how you challenged them so you could talk about them in session. I feel like a beached whale you typed. The cursor blinked as you stared at the words and felt tears burning your eyes. 

I’m letting Jake and Sloane down quickly joined the list. And then they flowed out of you.

I’m weak

I’m going to be the reason Jake leaves the Navy

Jake will resent me for keeping him from doing something he loves

He’s going to get hurt because of me

I’m not going to be a good mom

I’m failing as a wife

Jake isn’t going to find me attractive

I’m not strong enough to do this

Jake is going to leave me

I’m just like his ex

I’m the reason Jake won’t talk to his mom and sister

The screen changed as you typed another thought, switching to a picture of Jake. Sending the call to voicemail, you sat up and swiped at your tear-stained cheeks. 

Another call came in, and you also sent that one to voicemail. Getting out of bed, you hurried to the bathroom to splash water on your face. The screen lit up with a text - Just tell me if you don’t want to talk.

A sob burst from your mouth as you picked up the phone with shaking hands. I just need a minute. Pressing a hand to your mouth, you met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself to stop. You couldn’t make Jake sit through another call when you were falling apart. 

Sixty seconds later, the phone lit up again. Knowing you couldn’t ignore another call, you turned on the sink and grabbed your electric toothbrush, hitting the on button before answering and putting it on speaker. “Darlin’?” 

Turning off the toothbrush, you spit into the sink and splashed more water on your face, making enough noise that Jake would hear you. But just the sound of his voice made your throat tight, and you buried your face in the handtowel, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. “Just a minute,” you said, using the cloth to muffle your voice. After clearing your throat and breathing, you said, “Hey.”

“Hey.” You heard him clear his throat. “Are you mad at me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Jake,” you snapped, tears starting to fall again. 

“What?” 

“I just stopped crying, damn it.” And then, to your horror, the phone rang again as he tried to video call you. You denied it. As you scrambled to call him, he video-called again. When you declined it and called him, he picked up and hissed your name.

“I wanna see your goddamn face.”

“No. C-can’t we just t-talk?” 

“No. You’re just gonna fuckin’ lie to me again and tell me that everything’s fine when it’s not. I can’t trust you to tell me the truth unless I’m lookin’ at you.” 

So when the video call came through, you snatched the phone up and glared at your husband sitting at the desk in his stateroom. “Happy?” you demanded.

“Thrilled,” he shot back. “Nothin’ I love more than seein’ my wife in tears again.” 

“You asked for it! We could have just talked on the phone and - ”

“Pretended everything was okay instead of you being honest with me?”

“I’m trying to make this easier for you!”

“Stop making it easy on me!” Jake yelled, green eyes flashing with anger. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ - just stop! Yell at me, make me feel like shit - tell me that I’m the reason you’re depressed and that I abandon you when I’m supposed to be with you. That I’m letting my wife and daughter down by not being there to take care of you when you need me, and you’re already talkin’ to a lawyer about getting a divorce because you can’t do this anymore, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“You’d have been better off not marrying me, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“Sloane is gonna hate me for being a deadbeat who - ”

“Jacob Michael!” You stared at him, wide-eyed with shock at his tirade. Jake’s face flushed, his chest heaving like he’d been running. As you watched, he dropped his head into his hands, fingers tugging on his hair so harshly you wished you were there to stop him. “Stop,” you said softly. 

“I can’t,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, you…” You trailed off when he lifted his head, and you saw his tearful eyes. “Honey, are - are you alright?”

That made him chuckle, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, his wedding band glinting. “You’re supposed to be yelling at me, darlin’.”

“I’m not gonna yell at you.” 

“You should. I deserve it.” 

“Why?” At that, he scoffed and started ticking the reasons off his fingers.

“I knocked you up and then got hit with a deployment a week later. And made you marry me before I left. Then - ”

“You didn’t ‘knock me up,’” you said, putting a protective hand over your belly. That phrasing felt… wrong. “We got pregnant. And then decided to get married a little faster than we initially planned.”

“I still left you.”

“You didn’t want to.” 

“Still makes me a shitty husband and father.” 

“I… I feel like I’m a shitty wife and mom,” you said softly.

“You’re not.”

“You’re not, either.” Taking the moment of silence as an opportunity to leave the bathroom, you settled in a chair by the fire. It threw just enough light to see your face but gave you cover to feel comfortable admitting, “I-I’m afraid you’re gonna leave the Navy because of me.” Jake’s jaw ticked, and he looked away from the camera. Your heart lept into your throat.

“I don’t know how long I can do this, darlin’. But if I separate, it’s gonna be my choice.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you shook your head. “Jake, I know it’s been hard but - ”

“I got the promotion.” 

“You did? Congra - ”

“I have to sign on for three more years if I accept it.” You stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Okay. We can do that.”

“Sweetheart. I don’t know if I can do that. This deployment has been the worst one I’ve been on, and I don’t know if I can do it again. Bein’ away from you was hard enough, but next time, I’ll be away from Sloane, too. Realistically, we’re lookin’ at another five years - minimum - if I do it. That’s five years of maybe missing birthdays, anniversaries, her firsts… I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“B-but you love flying.”

“I do. But I love my girls more. And I can find different ways of doing it.” He sighed when he saw the flash of your teeth as you chewed your lip. “Say it. And turn on a light so I can see you.” 

Staying put, you closed your eyes, unable to see him when you forced the words out. “I’m afraid you’re gonna blame me if you’re unhappy if you separate. I’m afraid I’m making your life harder like your ex-wife.” 

There was silence for a long moment, then the sound of metal scraping. Opening one eye, you saw Jake pacing, hands back in his hair. You watched, wishing you were there to hold him. Finally, he turned back to the camera and growled, “I want to see you when I say this, darlin’, so turn on a damn light.” Reluctantly, you stood and moved to the bed, flicking on the lamp and pulling one of the arms of your pregnancy pillow over your lap. Leaning on the desk, he stared at you, his expression stern. “If and when I leave the Navy, it’s gonna because I want to. We’ll discuss it, but when I’m done, I’m done.”

“I can do this, Jake. I - ”

“When,” he spoke over you, “I am done, I’m done. I will not lose my family because of the military.”

“You won’t,” you muttered. He ignored you and continued. 

“You, Sloane, and any other kids we have will come before my job. And I will tell you every day until you get it through your thick, beautiful skull - you are my priority, darlin’. Nothin’ else matters but you and our family. Understood?” 

“Ja - ”

“Understood?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant Seresin, sir!” you snapped, giving him a mocking salute. 

“Pause.” 

“What?”

“Pause,” Jake repeated, disappearing from the screen as you resisted the urge to disconnect the call. When he returned, he held up a well-worn paper before reading from it. “Update four - ‘Parties agree not to walk out on arguments. Parties agree to request a ‘pause’ if necessary and will finish the discussion when cooler heads prevail.’ You wrote it, darlin’, so I’m calling a pause.” 

“Fine,” you huffed, blinking back tears at the reappearance of the contract. His having it with him made your heart skip a beat. You watched him read over it again before shaking his head.

“We never updated this. We need to.” 

“It’s stupid.” His eyes shot to yours, and he shook his head.

“It’s not. I take this as seriously as our vows, sweetheart. But we need to figure out what anniversary we’re gonna update it on.” 

“You only want one anniversary.”

“But you want two - a sentimental one and our wedding anniversary. So what’s it gonna be? When are we gonna update this instead of doing” - he paused to look at the paper again - “‘ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise’?” A smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. 

“Pretty sure it says ‘annual dating contract’ at the top, Seresin. So that would put it up for review in a few months.” 

“Gonna have to rename it to ‘annual marriage contract,’ Seresin,” he shot back.

“Gonna add it to your list of updates you want?” 

“Yup. Right up there with you sending me more dirty pictures.” You flushed, looking away from the camera. “Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, his tone teasing. “You have something to tell me?” 

Jake got you to send the two pictures you’d taken earlier in the night through cajoling and pleading. And when he’d started talking about how sexy you were in them, you tried to shut it down without success, which kicked off the fight again, your husband begging you to understand how attractive he found you. 

It was lucky that Rooster and Fritz were on liberty because the call lasted hours. You plugged in your phone when the battery almost died, set it down when it overheated, and your arm tired of holding it up. A few more pauses were called, and you couldn’t help but chuckle when Jake pointed out that you were both going all out for your third official fight of the relationship. 

And, as hard as it was to hear, it was good that you were fighting. Sure, your husband calling you a “creepy Stepford wife version of the woman I fell in love with” wasn’t exactly great. Still, he didn’t really appreciate being called “an arrogant asshole who would prefer to martyr yourself instead of listening to your fucking wife and letting her decide what she can and can’t take.” But for the first time since finding out he was deploying, it felt like you and Jake were being honest with one another about how you felt. About how hard navigating the pregnancy, deployment, and first months of your marriage had been for both of you. 

At some point, you fell asleep during a pause. When you woke the following day, you scrambled to grab your phone and was greeted with a message from Jake.

I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t wait to get home and show you exactly how much I love you and our daughter. Only 6 more weeks, darling. 

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

Author's Note: Did I have to write extensively about CBT? Probably not, but it's my favorite modality to use. It was kind of fun writing Jake and Darlin' fighting because they don't do it that often, but was definitely needed to clear the air. It was fun going back through some of their highlights from previous chapters. Not to mention Jake realizing that he has a whole other family that he can lean on now, and calling his father-in-law for advice.

And Javy continues to be the best godfather.

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