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mayaree-darling · 8 months

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who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU

from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot

warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)

word count: 2k~

You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.

You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).

All has never been better.

Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.

The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?

But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).

The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)

It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It didn't take long for their will to break.

The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.

This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?

The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.

Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.

This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?

They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.

They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.

They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.

With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.

They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.

It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?

Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.

"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"

There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.

You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.

Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?

As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.

It was all better with you.

When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.

You are their beloved Creator.

As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.

"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."

You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.

Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.

A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.

They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?

Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.

Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.

"What happened to the Creator?"

You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.

"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."

They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?

For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.

It will all be yours.

You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.

They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.

You always had been good at adapting.

You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover 💛@faeriessky 💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #sagau x reader #genshin cult au #sagau

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like

:O what have you done :O

and you're like

idk

and hes just like heart eyes

bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy

MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS

Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.

You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.

There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.

"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.

"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."

"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"

"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"

It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.

"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."

You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"

"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."

Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.

"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."

You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.

"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"

"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.

""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."

"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."

"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."

"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."

Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.

"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."

"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"

"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.

"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."

"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"

"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"

"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."

"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"

"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."

"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.

"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."

She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.

Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"

"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."

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lizzieisright · 3 months

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hey hurt/comfort idea:

soo what about the reader and abby being best friends for years and reader always had a crush on abby. they go to a party and abby introduces her new gf to u. she always liked her but thought reader didn’t (always a bit horny around reader, but they know eachother since childhood so abby mistakes readers flirting as being flirty like friends) so reader gets absolutely hartbroken, drinks till she passes out but abby takes care of her ofc. abbys gf is always with her tho so it just hurts even more.

she avoids abby till the next frat prty or smth (maybe it’s college!au) and then they hook up, abby can’t remember cause she’s too drunk and is back w her gf

very messy but i hope u get the idea :P

(also to make it more hurtful make abby mean while she’s drunk bc she’s going through a rough time but isn’t telling anyone)

It took me so long, I'm so sorry

Palestine: what can you do

I've changed a few things (they don't hook up) because I can't deal with cheating, and I couldn't decide on what ending I wanted so there's a poll in the end.

Tags: Modern AU, childhood friends, Angst, pining and unrequited love, of course.

_______________

Abby is a fucking God, and you come to this conclusion when you're 11 and she helps you with your stupid assignment.

When you're both 14 you start to understand that what you feel for her is not, in fact, an admiration.

You come to this conclusion when you sit in her bedroom and she jokes about teaching you how to kiss because you're a loser and you agree - and yeah, the kiss is a mess, but now you both know that you want to kiss girls. And you want to kiss one girl in particular, but Abby is your best friend and you won’t do anything that will lead to losing her.

Being a God means Abby is out of your reach and you have to live with your stupid feelings.

You're jealous of every boy who jokes around her to get her attention.

You're jealous of every girl who dares to look at her a little too long.

Abby is popular and she starts dating and it breaks your heart every time, and you can't look at other people because all your gods look like Abby.

"Why don't you go on a date?" Abby asks once when you're 16 and you're eating pizza in your bedroom, watching another marvel movie. "I think Jen likes you."

"I don't want to." What would be the point if the only person you want to date won't ever look at you this way?

"Why? Don't you get horny like the rest of us mortals?"

The worst part of being in love with your popular best friend is that she recently lost her virginity and she can't shut up about sex because she is excited about it.

"I have my hand, Abby." You roll your eyes at her.

"But it feels better when the other person does it." Abby winks and puts her hand on your thigh. "It's better, isn't it?" She rubs your thigh and your breath hitches. She looks at you, playful, and goes a little up on your thigh, and your face burns.

"You belong in horny jail, Anderson." You laugh, but don't move her hand: if you move it she'll call you a chicken, but she is a chicken enough herself to not move it further.

And she doesn't.

You live your life peacefully, dealing with your feelings as best as you can.

Then college starts and you're too busy to think about Abby 24/7 and you feel like it gets easier. Like you can breathe around her and you almost don't feel pain when she talks about her sex life.

Almost.

You know it's easy to deal with because all those girls in her bed are temporary while you're in Abby's life forever, and not because your feelings suddenly fainted. Abby likes to sleep around, she is a flirt even with you - a lot, actually, she thinks she can get away with a lot by saying she is touch-starved and then her hands wander off somewhere they're not supposed to be, and you let her, because you'll take whatever you can.

So you go through Abby's fuckboy phase with ease, because sex talk is way better than feelings talk.

A few years pass and suddenly the feelings talk starts, and you're slowly dying inside, because Abby likes someone. Abby talks about how nervous she is around her, she is always on her phone texting her, she is always busy when you want to spend time with her.

You hate this girl with all you have, because she takes Abby away, she takes everything away - Abby is not touchy anymore, she only hugs you briefly when you see her, she is not listening to you half of the time, too caught up in her fantasies.

You hope her girl is a bitch and an asshole and toxic so you can talk Abby out of it, but then Abby tells you she is going to introduce you at the party and you cry yourself to sleep that night.

"How do I look?"

"Like you need Jesus." You say honestly because Abby in the muscle tee and a pair of cargo pants makes you ache.

"Yeah?" Abby looks at you through the mirror with that fucking smirk she knows you like. "Am I fuckable?"

"We both know you prefer to be on the other end of that word, Anderson." You roll your eyes and put your shoes on only to straighten up to Abby's face way too close. She looks you up and down.

"You're very fuckable though."

"Fuck off." You huff and open the door of her apartment, hoping she won't tease you for being flustered. "Let's go before Manny gets so drunk you'll have to carry him. Again."

You spent the night in dread of meeting Abby's girl, dreaming of seeing her red flags or something to have a real reason to hate her to Abby's face, but then Abby lights up and she excuses herself to go and meet her girl, while you try so hard to not throw up from your nerves.

The girl is gorgeous.

"This is (y/n)." Abby motions at you and you smile politely. "This is Mia."

"I'm so happy to meet you." Mia smiles and she looks kind and genuine and fuck, you can't hate her. There's no jealousy in her, no fake smiles, no tense body language. "Abby loves you so much."

You swallow hard.

"I put up with so much of her shit, she doesn't have a choice." You joke and Mia laughs.

Mia is funny and cute and you understand why Abby likes her, because it's impossible not to. Mia is a type of girl that you'd think of as a bitch because she is popular, therefore arrogant, but when you get to know her she is a total sweetheart who'd help you find a way to your class if she notices you're lost.

This is hard.

This is going to break you.

You can't cope with this. You can't cope with seeing Abby's gentle gaze on Mia, with her careful touch and constant care. So you excuse yourself and go to the bar to get drunk, as if you can drown your feelings by dragging them to the bottom of the bottle. You dance and you drink, you dance and you drink and repeat it five other times until all long islands make you feel sick and you can't walk by yourself anymore. You're an independent woman and you refuse to ask for help, but when you can't order a taxi for the fifth time because your eyes are so blurry, Mia comes to you and holds you by your elbow.

"We will take you home, okay?" She says kindly and you feel your lips tremble. We.

"Jus- can you c'll a taxi f'me?" You slur, but you feel Abby's hand on your waist as she supports you. "Don't wanna ruin your night."

"You're not ruining anything." Mia says cheerfully and orders a taxi when Abby gives her your address. "Happens to the best of us."

The drive home makes you super dizzy and Abby has to put her hand between your head and the car door because you hit it all the time. The moment the car stops and Abby goes around to help you get on your legs, you throw up on the ground and it's a miracle you don't get everyone's shoes dirty.

Abby decides to carry you to your place and you can't shut up even for a second.

"I'm s'sorry guys. Not a good first impression. I really like you, Mia. You look kind. Like a grandma. In a good way, I'm sorry." Mia giggles. "Your laugh is very cute. It's cute, right Abby?"

"Yeah." Abby agrees quietly and what you don't know is that for her your drunken rant was way cuter than her girlfriend's laugh.

"Yeah. You look great together, I'm s'happy for you Abby. Haven't seen her that nervous because of a girl in years, can you imagine, Mia? You make this asshole nervous." You're chuckling sadly, you want to cry because you don't make Abby nervous.

No, you just embarrass her in front of her girlfriend because you're so pathetically in love you can't deal with it and drink half of the bar until you forget how to walk on your own.

Abby helps you change and Mia gives you water. She makes sure there is fresh air in your room and she tucks your blanket, and you close your eyes to hide your tears because Mia is so nice. She is a dream girl and Abby is so happy and there is no space for you anymore.

Because Mia took your place in that forever equation.

On the next day you text your apologies to both Abby and Mia (she followed you on instagram and asked you how you felt) and you can't deal with this. It hurts so much because you love Abby so much and you want her to be happy but it seems like the price of it is going to be your heart.

So you start avoiding her as best as possible, and what is more sad - it's not even that hard. Abby is always with Mia, fuck, Mia even asks you to come with them to hang out, which you always find an excuse not to. Library, fever, other plans, other plans again, sorry, paper is due tomorrow, my aunt is in town (she is not). Anything to not meet with them.

You still see Abby during classes and you give each other life updates, but it's been weeks since you actually hung out and you accept the reality that yes, there's no place for you in Abby's life anymore.

You cry every fucking night.

Then Abby suddenly remembers you exist and she asks you if you want to hang out, just the two of you, because she misses you. You miss her too and you agree.

You regret it the moment she cuddles you in front of her tv. She has a girlfriend now, why is she so touchy again? Did something happen with Mia that Abby came to you?

"Is everything okay with Mia?"

"Yeah, she is great." Abby says and buries her nose in your neck.

No. You can't deal with this.

So you start avoiding Abby at all costs after this - you can't shake the feeling that this is cheating, because for you Abby's touch has never been platonic, no. And it never felt platonic either, it was always giving you hope because Abby was flirting and touching the way friends don't touch each other. Maybe one day she'd finally give you a chance, you thought, but this day never came.

It is another party a month and half later - yay, Abby and Mia have been together for two months now! - and you don't know if Abby is going to come, but you hope she doesn't. You know she knows something is up and she will want her answers if she meets you.

But you have fun. You play games, you drink, you dance, you get flirted with and you forget about your pain just to get so drunk again you can't help but go outside to find a place to cry in peace.

You miss Abby, you miss her because she is a part of you and yes, you're in love with her, but she also your best fucking friend and you hate yourself for being in love with her, because it ruins your life. It has been ruining your life since you were fourteen and actually understood what you felt, but now it was getting serious.

"(Y/n)?"

Fuck.

You wipe your tears and look at Abby who is standing right in front of you.

"Hi." You squeak and she drops on the knees to look at you.

"Did something happen? Why are you crying?"

"I'm just sad. Don't worry." You try to smile but Abby's frown makes you cry more. "I'm going home anyway, so you can enjoy the party."

"What the hell are you saying? I'm not leaving you."

She should. She should leave you and not complicate it further.

Abby calls a taxi and you chuckle in your head - If you had a nickel for every time Abby was taking your drunk ass home, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

You tell her as much because the meme is funny and you try to be positive.

Abby helps you out of the car and this time you don't throw up.

"You know, last time I totally embarrassed myself in front of Mia." You chuckle and make your way upstairs with Abby's arm around your waist. "She is cute, I'm so happy for you."

Abby chuckles and leads you inside your apartment, but between the two of you she is mostly sober and she has some questions, and she wants her answers. You know this too, so when you sit on your sofa you feel like all your shields are crumbling: you’re giving up on hiding this from her. If this is the end, so be it.

"You've been avoiding me." Abby says quietly, looking you in your eyes like she is just a little bit mad.

"Yeah, I know." You admit with a chuckle. "You have a girlfriend now, it's so cool. When was the last time you liked someone like that? Back in school?"

"So you've been avoiding me on purpose."

"I don't think you can avoid someone accidentally, Abby.” You say, not holding back your venom. “Anyway, I’m so happy for you.”

“Why are you avoiding me?” Abby moves closer to you and you swallow your tears because there’s nowhere to run.

“Because it’s easier.” You shrug. “I just want you to be happy, okay? Does Mia make you happy?”

“Yeah.” Abby admits and you start crying again: it hurts so fucking much.

“Good. It’s good. I’m happy for you.” You sniffle and Abby huffs, annoyed.

“Stop saying that. Stop avoiding my questions.”

Inside you all hell breaks loose.

“I love you, okay?” You finally burst. “I love you, and it hurts so fucking bad and I can’t fucking see you with her or know that you’re with her! What do you want me to do? What would you do if you were me? I can’t- I can’t-” You throw your hands desperately and bite your lip, too angry with this whole situation.

“I love you too.” Abby says, confused.

“No, no Abby, you don’t understand.” You’re quiet and angry, almost spitting every word out. “I’m in love with you. I’m not jealous as a friend, Abby. I’m jealous because I want to be in her place, okay? Fuck, I wanted to be in your every girl’s place since you started dating girls!”

There is silence. You thought it would be terrifying - this silence - but right now you feel nothing except how dizzy your head is. You feel empty and there's no tears anymore. Abby stares at you in shock, her fists clenched, and you chuckle cynically.

“So can I continue avoiding you now or should I suffer more?”

“Fuck, (y/n)..” Abby sighs and rubs her forehead, going over her face with her palm. “Fuck. Don't do this to me.”

“Well.” You huff, annoyed. “Not like I have a fucking choice, Anderson.”

Abby throws her head back and stares at the ceiling while you do the same, trying to keep your drunk ass stable. You feel like eternity passes before Abby speaks again, and it is strangely comforting, having your best friend here with you, in this boat of pain, and sharing it with her.

“All these years. All these years we could have been together.�� Abby sounds like she is mourning.

You thought your heart broke when you met Mia? Forget it, it's broken now.

You sob, howl almost, and Abby is suddenly holding you in her arms, placing kisses to your hair. Her heart can't handle seeing you cry, never could - yes, she tried to move on with Mia, and it worked partially, but all her effort went to shit just now. You're the most precious girl to her and nothing can change it. Abby swallows and braces herself, suddenly making a decision in her head, all her anxiety about what is a right thing to do gone.

“You know what? Fuck it. Fuck all that time we've missed. I'm not letting you go now.” Abby says in your ear and you sob even more violently. “Come on, baby, I'm here. Let me see your face.”

You can't believe it. You can't even process it: is it your drunken dream? Are you hallucinating? It would definitely not be the first time. But you look up at Abby and she gently wipes your tears and there’s so much love and hurt in her eyes it’s hard not to break into another sobbing fit.

“I've been in love with you since we were seventeen.” Abby smiles at you and you shakily smile back. “I’m sorry it came to this. But I'm here now.”

“I love you.” You say feverishly and Abby's restraint breaks.

She kisses you hungrily, practically devouring you, and you're weak, so you return her kiss and press into her, soaking in her warmth and strength. Abby is solid and tender, she holds you like she cares and you cling to her for a moment.

But then you remember yourself and push Abby away, shaking your head.

“No. You're better than this. You're not going to betray Mia like this. I'm not going to let you, Abby. We're not doing this,” You motion between yourself and her. “Behind your girlfriend's back. And I'm also fucking drunk.”

Abby chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“Come on, I'll help you get into your bed.”

Everything else after is a blur as Abby helps you change and covers you with your blanket, and you fall asleep. You can't wait for the morning to come.

****

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou

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f1byjessie · 4 months

Text

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

view all 1,514 comments

oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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anexperimentallife · 5 months

Text

EDIT: CRISIS AVERTED, THANK YOU!

Interracial US family w/ disabled autistic dad and toddler needs to get to the US for medical treatment

(New post because the old one was getting LONG with the updates. Details are under the "read more" to save your dash, with updates in the notes.)

TL;DR: If I'm going to live long enough to watch our daughter grow up, we need to get back to the US and get set up in a disability-friendly place where I can use my medical benefits.

Although I was already disabled (autism, adhd, and spine, joint, and head injuries), my health was stable--until four bouts of COVID left me immunocompromised, and utterly destroyed my health (including damage to my heart, blood clots that damaged one eye, neurological and joint issues, etc.), and although we started off fine, we've been hammered with one crisis after another, both medical and financial, that no one could have predicted.

Until we have enough to get back to the US, a chunk of whatever comes in has to go towards medical care that can't be put off, so the sooner we can reach critical mass on that, the better.

If you can help, or reblog, or share the links on other platforms, we'd be grateful!

The "Donate to Little or None" Paypal donation link takes the lowest fees, I think. (Kept the same link from when we were fighting to get our daughter's birth certificate fixed so we could get her citizenship affirmed.)

Then there's Ko-Fi:

And my little sister started a GoFundMe for us!

EDIT: The donation links above still work, but I removed the GoFundMe link.

IF YOU WANT ALL THE DETAILS SEE THE "READ MORE."

(There's more in my "rob gets medical" tag if you want a blow by blow account of how we got to this point over the past few years, but this is the gist.)

HOW IT STARTED:

I moved to the Philippines six years ago, after the deaths of my adult sons, in part to make my disability payments stretch further. Shortly afterwards, I was joined by my now-wife @thesurestthing (also from the US) for what was supposed to be a visit, but which turned into a permanent arrangement.

After I got a contract to license an old story for a mobile game (which tripled our income*), we found out we were having a baby, which was fine, because despite my disabilities (autism, adhd, two spine injuries, traumatic brain injury, a herniated esophagus, joint issues, etc.), my health was stable, and thanks to the contract, we were fine financially as well.

HOW IT STARTED GOING DOWNHILL:

Zoey's pregnancy was complicated, requiring two hospitalizations, and our daughter's birth was complicated, too--requiring a C-Section--which tripled our hospital bill. A few weeks after our daughter was born, the aforementioned contract was canceled without warning. THEN, when we tried to register our daughter's birth with the US embassy, we discovered an error on her birth certificate that left her stateless, and which took nearly two years, all our savings, and a fundraiser (thank you, generous people!) to resolve. Combined with medical expenses, that left us in a lot of debt.

A brief summary of went else wrong (leaving a lot out for brevity's sake):

I got COVID three four times during all this, became immunocompromised, and developed a slew of other medical issues (heart damage, eye damage and temporary facial paralysis from blood clots, persistent infections, a worsening of my joint issues, neurological issues, etc.) as a result of Long Covid.

I've had to be hospitalized a couple of times, undergo surgery, and was on an oxygen machine twice--once for an entire month, while I was bedridden. As of 24 January, 2024, I'm still recovering from my fourth bout of covid, which started at the beginning of October 2023.

There's a lot more, but you get the idea. COVID has completely wrecked my health, including tearing up my immune system.

And yes, I'm as fully vaxxed against COVID as one can be in the Philippines, with all available boosters, but again--I'm immunocompromised, plus they don't have the vax for the newest variant here yet. Zoey is vaxxed, also, and as a result, her bout with covid was extremely mild. El isn't vaxxed yet because they won't give the covid vaccine to kids under five here, but she's been able to share Zoey's antibodies from breast-feeding--which is apparently a thing.

The only way we can see for me to stay alive long enough to watch Eleanor grow up is to get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits**.

WHY SO MUCH MONEY?

First, while we're still here, we need to pay for whatever medical care can't be put off. Plus, since I'm now immunocompromised, we have to get LOTS of vaccinations before we have to spend 24 hours or so in crowded planes and airports.

Second, we're going to be arriving with only what we can carry with us on the plane, and we'll need to get into a place near a VA hospital that I can easily get around in while I'm recovering from surgeries and getting various treatments. We'll need to pick up some secondhand household goods, and some kind of used transportation (because, you know, it's the US, where you kind of need a vehicle to get around).

We'll also need enough on top of my and El's disability payments to get by for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work. And all this is while we're still paying off the debt from the stuff I mentioned above.

So we're figuring that unless we catch some very lucky breaks, it'll probably cost between 20K and 36K altogether.

(We can't simply stay with friends when we get back, because literally every single close friend we have in the US with extra room and who lives close to a VA hospital has cats--to which I have a severe anaphylactic reaction. As in my entire respiratory system shuts down, and I have to be rushed to the ER to keep from dying; this has happened more than once. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on immunosuppressants, and my immune system is ALREADY compromised, so I CAN'T do that.)

So again, if you can kick in, or reblog, or post our crowdfunding links (or the link to this post) on whatever other platforms you use, we'd appreciate it.

(*When I told social security about it, they said I could keep getting disability, too, because licensing IP rights didn't count as work income, and since it was a Moldavian company, it also fell under a special tax clause for getting paid by a foreign company while living overseas, so no taxes on it, either. )

(**VA benefits--I was a cold warrior in 1980s Germany. It was less than forty years after WWII, there was a lot of sabre-rattling--some of it nuclear--and we were there as a deterrent to prevent in Germany the kind of thing that's happening in Ukraine right now. Disclaimer because I'm tired of people accusing me of "invading" folks in the early 1980s when I was a dumb, heavily propagandized pre-Internet kid fixing generators in Europe. I wouldn't join today even if I could.)

#rob gets medical #mutual aid #medical fundraiser #long covid #repatriation

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amaranthineghost · 6 months

Note

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

526 notes · View notes

seoafin · 1 year

Text

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day.

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly.

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them.

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer.

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist.

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose.

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome.

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps.

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away.

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them.

All of this is just temporary.

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home.

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.” Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway.

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island.

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.

#gojo needs to wife geto up rn before i do smh #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #ddao

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roseykat · 5 months

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hard thought part 2

This is part 2 to a hard thought that a lovely anon sent me not too long ago x

A/N: tagging @lyramundana who’s the usual instigator of my Minsung thoughts. I also have no idea how long this is lol

(if you haven’t read the first one, you don’t need to but for context it might be good)

Reader couldn’t have asked for a better experience when Minsung took her virginity. And although they’ve taken her ‘V card’, she’s still relatively inexperienced yet potently eager to do more. Almost like a puppy with unlimited excitement. That excitement stems from finally understanding that there’s more to sex than just sex with another person (or people in her case). It’s the temporary sting when one of either of their cocks stretch her open, the out of body orgasms they bring her to, the slow, sloppy kisses, the aftercare too. She enjoys every single bit of it and is damn near just about running Minsung dry as they try to keep up with her.

They could never lie about how hot and slightly cute it is to see her wanting to jump on their dicks at every chance she gets. Unintentionally so, they’ve managed to turn her into some cock-dumb slut. But it’s not her fault that she just loves being filled up by her two significant others🩷

However, it could be better, if they let her take them both at the same time, which at this stage, they won’t and for a few good reasons.

She’s been pestering them for a while now about how they should let her do it, but as they keep reminding her, she’s not ready yet. Yes, she might being having a lot of sex with them, but double penetration isn’t your every day sexual activity that people have the pleasure (literally) of doing. But that’s for people who aren’t in a relationship where there’s more than two and don’t always tend to explore.

In saying that, they love her so much and they know it’s a possibility for her at some stage in time. There’s nothing more either of them want other than to just slip their cocks into her holes that are for them to fill, and only them.

So they all decide to sit down and devise some type of plan to help train, prepare, and ease her towards the full experience. Not to mention to ensure that she is as comfortable as possible throughout everything. They first take into consideration that she has never done anal before. On top of that, it would take her some time getting used to the overwhelming sensation that comes with being stretched out by two things at once.

Therefore, Minsung thinks it’s best for her to start with anal training. Both Minho and Jisung are obviously pretty experienced in that realm before they met her so they have the knowledge and research on where, when, and how to start. The pair of them head to a sex shop to purchase a few things. They would’ve brought their girlfriend along but they also want to surprise her with these new items.

They buy her an anal training kit that contains a variety of small to big dildos for beginners, a pink jewelled, stainless steel butt plug, anal beads, a dildo specifically for anal, and even a wireless vibrating butt plug too that can be used outside of the bedroom. Some would probably think it’s all unnecessary or over the top even, but Minsung just wants to go all out for their princess and are as enthusiastic as she is. Not to mention, they want to properly prepare her and give her some experience leading up to it.

Minsung would come back to show her all the new toys they bought for her resulting in her fawning over them immediately. She’s intrigued by everything - the plugs, the beads, and what not. So with some preparation, Minsung suggests that they could probably start soon but take into consideration of everyone’s moods on when to do it.

Jisung, being the horny bastard that he is, is keen whenever and wherever. Minho doesn’t get as horny as him, but when someone else is in the mood, he never misses an opportunity to lay it down in bed with his two lovers. Reader on the other hand, ever since she’s started having sex, all she wants is cock. That’s all.

That’s her not so hidden agenda.

So when the right time arrives, Minsung pulls out the training kit first that contains the smallest dildo out of the lot of toys they purchased. Beforehand, they make sure she is well aroused. Jisung lets her suck him off, but only for a little bit because they want to make it about her since again, this is her first time with anything anal-toy related which isn’t to be confused with the experience of having anal sex with a real person. She would get around to that eventually.

She allows Minho to go down on her, edging her until she’s leaking and wet but doesn’t actually let her cum. His theory is that they need to work her up enough without making her orgasm. To fluster her. Once she’s prepped for the small dildo and fully adjusted, only then will he make her cum to distract her from any discomfort she may feel. In the end, his theory proved right.

First they’d get her onto all fours before Jisung would assist in lubing up her hole, circling his fingers around the tight muscle just to stimulate it. He’s so badly tempted to sink his finger in but puts a leash on his irrationality. But as Minho gently rubs her clit with his fingers, Jisung has the task of slowly and carefully inserting the small toy. He lets her know when he’s about to start so that there’s no surprise and begins pushing at snails pace.

It’s a new sensation for her. Uncomfortable at first with a tiny bit of a sting, but that’s what she was expecting anyway. It’s almost similar to her first time having sex with them previously. Both of them constantly check up on her, letting her know that she can stop or rest at any time she wants. But with the help of them giving her proper foreplay, she’s aroused and wants to keep going. Jisung would sink the smallest dildo into her ass and slowly pull back out until it reaches the tip, then he would cautiously push back in. He does this a few times just for her to get used to the feeling.

Minho would be filling her up with praise, telling her how much of a good girl she is, how well she’s taking it, how gorgeous she looks all the while gently swiping her hair out of her face, kissing her on the cheek, and what not. Jisung uses his other hand to smooth delicately over her asscheeks and down her back. They do this until they start getting a different sort of reaction out of her. When they see her expression go from contorted and slightly pained to more relaxed and soft, they know that she’s starting to enjoy it.

Jisung would keep her in that position - face down ass up, still carefully and slowly fucking her with the dildo while Minho picks up a vibrator to use on her clit. Having not cum before, her mind was instantly taken off anything uncomfortable that still lingers and made to focus on cumming. Which she does - effortlessly around the small yet highly effective length as her pussy leaks down the vibrator.

Minsung watches her legs tremble as she cums quietly from the pleasure. They’ve never seen her do that. Usually she’s vocal and always announces that she’s going to orgasm. Not this time. She just does it and they both find it so mesmerising and hot to watch her wet pussy clench around nothing. Minho and Jisung can only imagine what the next few sessions in the future are going to look like which arrive in the few days ahead.

The second time around that they’re in the bedroom, they repeat the process. Only this time with a dildo that’s the next size up in width and length. They follow the same steps; foreplay, fuck, prep, and the main act.

The third time around, they use the beads. While they maybe be slightly smaller in girth, the length is noticeable. It also makes it a decent apparatus to use while one of them is fucking her. They take turns using her pussy and working her up even more with the beads. Minho is the first to bust a hot load inside her, giving Jisung the chance to fuck it right back into her. Just a little bit after she starts to cum, like a split second when she tips over the edge, Jisung pulls his cock out first and slowly draws back the beads whilst she’s orgasming.

They both made a note how how much she screamed and shook from how fucking good it felt despite contracting and cumming around nothing, giving a whole other meaning to what an orgasm should always feel like. She quickly adds it to the list of things they’re all going to retry in the future.

The next step in training her are the butt plugs which also quickly become a favourite, main reason being is that they could incorporate it in public. She dared to use the vibrating one first which was a huge mistake, especially when the app resides on the phone of a trigger happy person like Jisung who kept increasing the intensity and speed about three times every minute. It had her clutching onto Minho, warning him that she was going to cum. Minho had to tell him to slow down otherwise she wasn’t going to make it through the rest of their weekly shop at the supermarket.

It doesn’t take her long to wanting to transition into some form of double penetration, like a warmup or taste test as to what she could expect from being fucked by her two partners simultaneously. Just to practice, they use dildos on her. Not too big, but not entirely small either. After a lot of foreplay and prep, Minho takes one dildo and Jisung takes the other. Each of them using her holes like their personal fuck toys.

As time progresses, she’s finally built up a tolerance to the point where she’s more comfortable with anal. Minho’s even caught her trying to finger both her holes at the same time which gave him a bit more of an indication to suggest that she was ready. Although it would still take some getting used to their actual cocks and nothing artificial, she knows what to expect even more.

When the day finally came, Minsung set it out similar to how they did when they first took her virginity. Slow, steady, and again - a lot of foreplay and prepping her. Jisung makes her sit on his face until she’s cumming and dripping down the sides of his cheeks. They needed to give her at least one orgasm to relax her muscles and open her up a bit. Minho would then have the pleasure of prepping and stretching her out for one of them to fuck her, which ends up being himself since Jisung fucked her first last time.

They get her into a position where Jisung is lying back so that she can sit and sink down on his cock before leaning forward over him a bit, presenting her ass for Minho. With a bit more lube for added glide, he presses his tip against her hole. He lets her know when he’ll start pushing before he slowly inserts his dick. Reader would whimper at some of the sting that Minho’s cock brings with it, a reminder to her that he is far from small but wouldn’t have it any other way.

Below her, Jisung would be playing and sucking on her tits as a distraction. The odd sensation of the pain and pleasure would make her dizzy and inevitably make her want more of it.

Minho would still push himself in, getting halfway up his length before he notices that she’s trying to fuck back onto his cock. But he’d still her by the hip with his hand and tell her that as much as she wants to be filled out by him, she needs to take it slow. She’d accompany a response to that with a long whine and sob before burying her face into Jisung’s neck.

They’d also repeatedly instil confidence and praise in her. She needs to know how hot her body looks with two cocks inside it, how they can’t resist fucking her senseless like this - something they have to refrain from doing until she’s fully used to it at some point in time. For now, they go slow.

The pair of them end up burying their cocks to the hilt, garnering as much pleasure as she is when they start thrusting. Despite the fact that it’d be slow and not as brutal as they can be, they make her cum faster than they’ve ever done since she’s started having sex. Not once do they pull out to give her a rest because they want to fuck her through all of her orgasms that they give her and until they themselves start to give out. They want to see both of their loads drip out of her when they’re done.

Her first experience with double penetration has changed the trajectory of their sex lives. Words can’t even come close to how animalistic and ruthless it is once they’ve fully broken their babygirl in. She becomes nothing but two holes for them to use as they please, a personal cum dump for whenever they feel the need to fuck something.

But again, it’s their fault for corrupting her that way. They wouldn’t have suspected that their cocks could turn her from their innocent, unassuming, sweet and kind doll who had never been touched the way they touch her - to a cum hungry slut that needs to be filled up at least once a day to be satisfied.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #lee know smut #poly minsung #minsung x reader

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kwanisms · 6 months

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🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 04 🎄

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➮ bartender!Jeonghan × fem!Reader wc: 8.1k summary: Jeonghan is at work when someone sits down at his bar on December 24th and turns around to find none other than Y/N sitting before him. genres/themes/au: angst (just at the beginning, I promise), fluff, smut; holiday themes; non idol au, bartender au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues and traumatic past events, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: I think Jeonghan's part was the most gut wrenching for me to write so I'm really excited to write another chance for him and Y/N. A chance for them to start over essentially! Thank you so much for reading! If you like this part, please reblog as it helps spread my stories around! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection lol), oral (kinda lol f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, dom!Jeonghan, sub!Reader, Jeonghan is pretty pathetic and kind of impatient and he has to hold off from nutting too early 💀 multiple orgasms (f receiving, m receiving), creampie (yum), cumplay, orgasm denial (f receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), sex tape & pictures, and I think that’s all but as usual, if I missed anything, let me know!

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The only thing Jeonghan hated more than his job was his job during the holidays.

Bartending wasn’t the greatest career choice but he did make a decent amount of money and it was only temporary as he finished getting his master’s. He just hated the rush and influx of customers that the holidays always brought. With more customers came more money but it also came with more complaints and more drunken idiocy.

“How was class?” one of his coworkers, Matt, asked as Jeonghan stepped behind the bar, setting his bag down under the counter. “Exhausting,” Jeonghan replied. “I’m glad the term is over for the holidays.” Jeonghan moved around his coworker and to the terminal to clock in.

“They’re expecting it to be busier tonight,” Matt continued. “Busier than usual?” Jeonghan asked as he turned to look at him. Matt nodded. “The busiest night of the year,” he continued. Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head. “New Year’s Eve would disagree with you.”

Matt let out a chuckle. “According to Jerry, he thinks tonight will be worse than that.” Jeonghan shook his head, glancing over to the door where he saw a line of people waiting to be let in. “He always hopes it’s going to be busier every year,” Jeonghan replied.

“It’s just wishful thinking.”

An hour later, Jeonghan was mentally cursing himself and wishing he could take his words back as they seemed to have cursed him in his willful denial.

Not only was the club packed but every order that came through the computer was complex with the patrons ordering some of the more complicated menu items. He was partially cursing himself for agreeing to work the night before Christmas Eve shift. He usually had it off to do Holiday stuff in favor of working on Christmas Eve but this year, he agreed to cover Analiese’s shift and she would cover his Christmas Eve one.

It took another couple hours for the flow to die down but Jeonghan was still busy manning the printer, making drinks for all the orders that came through. It was his preferred station, meaning he could just do his work without having to interact much with the customers. Occasionally, he’d have to make a few orders for the patrons at the bar but more often than not, one of the other bartenders would have that covered, allowing Jeonghan to work in peace.

“It’s calmed down a bit,” Matt said as he walked over to use the terminal next to where Jeonghan stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ve had to piss for like two hours. Can you cover the bar for me?” he asked as he started to untie his apron. Jeonghan looked up and nodded. It had been a few minutes since an order came through the printer for him to make.

“Go ahead,” he replied. “I got it.” Matt thanked him and took off, ducking under the open side of the bar and disappearing into the crowd. Jeonghan turned, putting on a fake smile as he greeted the patron closest to him, asking them for their drink order.

Mixing was one of the few skills he’d managed to pick up in his initial round of college; going to house parties and learning which liquors tasted good together as well as the ratios. He honed his skills over a couple years and eventually got his first bartending job at a small hole in the wall. He didn’t get to experiment much with that job as most people ordered wells and beers.

His second bartending job was at an upscale restaurant, mixing drinks like cosmopolitans and manhattans. It allowed him to be a little more creative. It wasn’t until he got to his current job that his creativity really started to flow and he started mixing things together.

Jeonghan finished making a round of drinks for a group of friends gathered around the bar as Matt returned, patting him on the back before grabbing his apron. “Thanks, man,” Matt called over the music as he tied his apron back on and went back to work.

The next couple hours went by as Jeonghan had hoped. The night started getting later, turning into the wee hours of the morning. The club had started to die down, many of the patrons drunkenly stumbling out the front door to find their rides home. Jeonghan was wiping down the counter when he saw movement from the corner of eye.

He glanced up and he was sure his eyes widened comically. His lips parted as he felt his breath suddenly catch. He stood frozen on the spot looking at the person who had just taken a seat at his bar. Someone he hadn’t seen for a long time. Someone he’d just brought up on a camping trip with 12 of his friends. Jeonghan finally found his voice, speaking in a low tone that only two people could hear.

“Y/N?”

You looked back at him, failing to prevent the grin that spread across your face. You hadn’t changed much. You’d matured a bit. You looked much more confident and certain of yourself. You looked incredible. Jeonghan threw a glance at his coworker who was busy making drinks down the bar from him. Jeonghan approached where you sat slowly.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked as he stopped in front of you, holding the towel in both hands tightly. Your smile shifted from amused to sincere in the amount of time it took Jeonghan to blink. “I was in town and decided to drop by one of my favorite places,” you replied. “Although, I didn’t know you worked here,” you added, giving him a once over.

Jeonghan’s cheeks burned. Not from embarrassment exactly. He wasn’t sure why he felt heat spreading across his face and down his neck. What the hell was wrong with him? He was never like this? Was it perhaps because he felt ashamed?

Ashamed of how he left you? Ashamed of never speaking to or seeing you again? Ashamed of leaving you after everything that happened that summer? He couldn’t pick a single reason for feeling this way so he chose to accept all of them at once.

“How long have you worked here?” you asked, pulling his attention from the depths of his thoughts. “Three years,” he answered instantly. “When did you get back in town?” You chuckled softly at his quick response. “Last night,” you answered. Jeonghan noticed Matt starting to approach where he stood and cleared his throat quickly, turning his gaze back on you.

“What can I get you?” he asked, making you look up at him through your lashes. “A Manhattan, please,” you answered, lips threatening to pull into a smirk as you watched Jeonghan get to work, making your drink. He tried not to make too much of a show, making the drink without the flashy movements he normally did to impress patrons and increase his likelihood of getting more tips.

Once he’d finished the drink, he set it on a bar napkin in front of you and watched nervously as you pulled the drink closer. He watched as you picked the glass up and brought it closer to your face, no doubt giving it a sniff before taking a sip and setting it down. “Do you want to open a tab?” Jeonghan asked, quickly beating himself up for his lame question. You shook your head, opening your clutch and pulling out a few bills before handing them to him.

He started to turn away but caught himself when you told him no change, he thanked you, ringing up the drink and cashing it out, putting the change in the tip jar on the back counter by the terminal. He turned back around and started wiping down the counter again, gesturing to Matt to keep his distance.

“So,” he started as you took another sip of your drink. “How long are you in town for?” he asked. You smiled up at him. “A while,” you answered coyly. Jeonghan felt his lips pull into a smirk. “A while, huh?” he asked and you nodded, lifting your glass to take another sip. Jeonghan tried not to watch the way your lips moved or the way you licked them after taking a sip.

“And you’re out this late because…?” he continued, trailing off. “I told you,” you replied. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

The conversation between the two of you continued, briefly interrupted by Jeonghan helping Matt make drinks but the majority of the crowd had disbanded by this point as it was nearing 2 in the morning. The club would be closing soon and for once, Jeonghan found himself wishing for his shift to never end.

He let out what must have been a millionth sigh because you chuckled, looking up at him, chin resting in your hand and your elbow resting on the counter as you stared at him. He’d made a couple more drinks, enjoying your company far too much and watching the way you would pull the cherry garnish off the skewer with just your tongue. He had thought maybe you didn’t realize what you were doing but on the third time, he noticed the way you held his gaze as you did it and he knew you were doing it on purpose.

“Long day?” you asked, tilting your head like a puppy hearing its favorite word. Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “You have no idea. I’m ready to get out of here,” he replied. It was only half true. While his feet did hurt and he was ready to go home, make some ramyeon and enjoy the rest of the night in the comfort of his apartment, he wasn’t quite ready to part ways with you.

“You’ve been at this for a while,” you commented, the smile on your face faltering as you studied his appearance. “The perks of working full time and pursuing a master’s degree,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically. “I live in a state of perpetual exhaustion.”

You reached across the bar, placing your hand over his. “I can tell,” you replied. Jeonghan gave you a tired smile. “Don’t worry,” he replied. “These bags are Gucci,” he added, gesturing to the bags under his eyes from many nights spent doing homework and case work instead of sleeping.

You snorted, pulling your hand away. “Only Gucci?” you asked. “No Chanel?”

It was Jeonghan’s turn to laugh as he shook his head. “Gucci is more affordable,” he replied.

“Oh shut up,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Your smile fell again. “But in all seriousness,” you said softly. “Are you okay?” Jeonghan felt his heart skip a beat, thumping in his chest erratically. “Uh, yeah,” he replied, turning his gaze away. “I’m fine.”

“You just keep sighing,” you explained. “I thought maybe something was bothering you and if so, maybe you’d like to talk about it?” Jeonghan looked back, meeting your curious gaze. “What time are you off?” you asked suddenly, making him almost choke on his own spit.

Before he had a chance to answer, someone else spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss,” Matt suddenly said from beside him, making Jeonghan jump. “Shit, Matt,” he hissed, placing his hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding. “You nearly scared the life out of me.” Matt chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man,” he replied before turning to look at you.

“The club’s closing soon.” You nodded with a smile. “Of course,” you replied, picking up your drink and downing the rest of it. Jeonghan turned to Matt, jerking his head as if to say ‘buzz off for a second.’ Matt seemed to understand and walked away to the other end of the bar, leaving Jeonghan to face you alone.

“About what you said before,” he said softly, making you look up as you collected your coat from the back of your barstool. “I really would like to see you while you’re still in town,” he continued, catching you off guard.

“Wow,” you said in faux amazement. “The Yoon Jeonghan wants to see me again?” you asked, making him groan in playful annoyance. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he replied, giving you a grin. “I’d like to catch up while I’m not working,” he added. “Okay,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Okay, well what time are you off?” There was that question again.

“You mean tonight?” he asked, looking at you incredulously. You nodded, seemingly unphased.

“Why not? Got plans tomorrow?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “The club’s closed on Christmas,” he explained. “So I’m free all day tomorrow.” You smiled at him warmly. “Then I’ll just wait outside for you?” you asked. Jeonghan’s eyes widened. “It’s probably freezing out there,” he protested. You shook your head.

“Well, I can’t stay in here,” you replied with a chuckle. “I’ll just meet you outside after you get off,” you added, grabbing your clutch only for Jeonghan to reach across the counter and gently take your wrist in his hand. “Wait,” he said quickly. “Let me see if my boss will let you wait in here instead of out in the cold.”

Luckily Jeonghan’s boss was an understanding person and allowed you to stay inside the club as Jeonghan and his co-workers shut down the business. You sat at the bar, watching Jeonghan count his drawer and finish putting in his tips.

“So, where did you have in mind?” he asked suddenly, making you look up from your phone where it sat on the counter, playing a rhythm game. “I thought we could just hit up a pojangmachas around here,” you replied. “Maybe grab some food.” Jeonghan smiled, picking up the money drawer and telling you he’d be right back. He was only gone a few minutes but upon returning, he untied his apron, making sure to take everything from it before stashing it and grabbing his bag from under the counter.

You waited for him to exit the bar, watching as he called a parting to Matt.

Once he joined you at your side, you studied his face at a much closer proximity. “And maybe some soju,” you added, making him look up at you with a confused look on his face. “Soju?” he asked curiously. “Why?” You reached up to run your thumb over the apple of his cheek. It was a simple gesture but one that made his heart skip nonetheless.

“Besides,” you replied, pulling your hand away. “You look like you could use a drink.”

The two of you exited the club, Jeonghan calling goodnight to the bouncers at the doors as he passed. Outside, the temperature had dropped tremendously, a wet sort of chill in the air, one that made his sinuses almost burn from the intensity of the cold. It didn’t take long for the two of you to find a mostly street lined with various food stalls. Most of the stalls had closed up shop as it was now almost 3 in the morning. The only stalls left open were the pojangmachas, covered stalls.

You led Jeonghan over to one of the larger ones, thanking him when he pulled back one of the tent flaps and followed you in.

Inside the tent was much warmer than outside with multiple industrial space heaters placed inside. There were a couple folding tables with folding chairs as well as a cart where a middle-aged woman sat on a bar height chair with a thick cushion. She was reading from some kind of magazine as you approached.

She glanced up at the two of you briefly. “Go ahead and sit down and someone will come by to take your order.” Although her tone was polite, she said it with an air of indifference that screamed ‘I couldn’t care less if you complain.’

You did as she instructed, moving to one of the tables by a space heater and setting your clutch on the table. Jeonghan set his bag on one of the chairs and shrugged off his coat, his eyes moving towards you at the same time. He’d only just noticed what you were wearing and had half a mind to cover you up with his coat.

You were wearing clothes typical of clubbing; high strappy black platform pumps, a fitted silver dress with ruching on the sides and a halter neckline. The back of the dress was open, showing off more skin than Jeonghan thought comfortable, especially in colder temperatures.

You hung your coat on the back of your chair, moving to take a seat. As soon as your butt hit the chair, Jeonghan stood over you, placing his long coat on your lap. “Just in case,” he murmured before taking a seat beside you in an attempt to shield you further from prying eyes.

“What a gentleman,” you replied jokingly. Jeonghan rolled his eyes despite his cheeks starting to heat up again. He didn’t even have time to quip back with some witty comeback before a man with a bored look on his face approached the table.

“What can I get you?”

You glanced at the small menu in Jeonghan’s hands. “Some eomukguk,” you said, glancing up at the man. “And kimbap. What about you?” you asked, looking up at him. Jeonghan let his eyes wander the menu before looking up. “Kimchi-bokkeumbap, please. And some soju,” he replied, looking up at the man who nodded and walked away.

You took the menu from him to look over it closer, allowing Jeonghan the freedom to do with his hands as he pleased. He opted for resting them on the surface of the table, lightly drumming his thumbs on the hard plastic to a beat in his head.

Silence washed over the two of you making Jeonghan want to curl up and hide. He’d never felt so awkward in all his life. “Huh.” he heard you chirp in something akin to mild amusement and curiosity. “Hmm?” he hummed in response, looking at the menu when you showed it to him.

“They have dakkochi with cheese,” you whined, showing him the menu. Jeonghan chuckled as the man returned with a bottle of soju and two glasses. He brought two large bottles of water, setting everything on the table. Jeonghan caught him before he walked away. “Could I add to our order?” he asked to which the man nodded wordlessly.

“Could we get some dakkochi with cheese please?”

The man nodded once more, without speaking, and walked away. Jeonghan turned to find your gaze on him already, your expression unreadable as you studied him. “What?” he asked as he picked up one of the bottles and moved it close to you before opening his. You shook your head, looking down at the bottle and opening it to take a sip.

Jeonghan grabbed the bottle of soju, turning the label to read it before nodding his head.

He offered to pour your shot first and after twisting the cap off, he filled it to the brim, making you grimace. You glanced at him as he poured his own shot, not filling it nearly as much. “You did that on purpose,” you muttered, making him look up an expression of feigned innocence on his face.

“Did what?” he asked. You gestured at your shot glass. “There’s no way I can pick that up without spilling it,” you murmured, noticing the mischievous glint in his eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, picking up his shot glass and waiting for you to follow.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you very carefully picked up the shot glass. “Bottoms up,” he said before downing the shot with ease. You had a harder time, needing to move carefully so as not to spill any alcohol on you or his coat that was still on your lap.

You managed to swallow all of it, only spilling a tiny bit onto your hand which you quickly licked off and set your glass down. Jeonghan had noticed you licking the alcohol off your hand and his thoughts were suddenly consumed with images of your tongue running along the underside of his--

His thoughts were interrupted as the man returned, carrying the food you both ordered, setting it down on the table and asking if you needed anything else. Jeonghan shook his head, thanking the man who merely nodded and walked away. You smiled at the steaming bowl of eomukguk and immediately reached for a skewer.

Jeonghan started stirring his bokkeumbap, glancing over at your bowl before grabbing one of the small plates and spooning some of the rice onto it. He set it back down in front of you without a word and immediately dug into the dish. Your cheeks burned at the show of affection and thanked him softly.

The two of you ate mostly in silence, sipping on water and downing shots. The first bottle of soju went quickly and another one was brought to your table without you even needing to ask. You were happily munching on your chicken skewers when Jeonghan spoke.

“I never got the chance to apologize,” he started. You looked up at him. “It’s okay,” you replied after swallowing. “No, it’s not okay,” Jeonghan replied, looking back up at you. It was hard to miss the pain in his eyes. He must have held onto the hurt he felt he caused you all those years ago.

You reached across the table just like back in the club to place your hand over his.

“Really, Jeonghan,” you said, saying his name for the first time tonight. It sounded just as heavenly now as it did back then. “I’m okay. At first, yeah, I was upset,” you explained. “But I didn’t stew in it. I picked myself back up and I moved on. And sure, maybe I cried over it a few times but at the end of the day, we both knew that whatever was going on would end. We were young,” you continued.

Hearing the fact that you cried over him, over what he did, made his stomach sink. He moved his hand out from under yours and placed it on top. “I am so sorry,” he started but you shook your head. “It’s in the past,” you reminded him. “Stop living in the past. Focus on what’s happening now.”

Jeonghan met your gaze, your eyes flitted between his, looking back and forth as if searching for something specific in them. Something you hoped to see. Without speaking, Jeonghan raised his hand from the table, cupping your face and sliding his thumb over your cheek.

His heart nearly melted as you leaned into his touch. You were both startled out of your bubble by one of the men at the other table sneezing. It made you jump and Jeonghan pulled his hand back quickly, as if he’d been burned. He coughed a couple times before taking a drink of water.

And as you expected, he changed the subject.

“So, you didn’t tell me exactly how long you plan on staying in town,” he said quietly, glancing up at you.

You looked back at him, swallowing your food before speaking. “Just a while,” you replied. You gestured at the bottle of soju, silently asking if he wanted another shot. He shook his head. “What does that mean?” he asked. “What does a while mean?”

“I dunno,” you said with a shrug. “It means a while?” you added, glancing over at the only other occupied table, making sure they weren’t paying attention before grabbing the bottle of soju and pouring yourself a shot, shushing Jeonghan when he pretended to gasp. You quickly set the bottle down and reached over to slap his arm.

He raised his hand, pretended as if he’d been shot and made a face of extreme pain. You threatened to hit him again, cursing under your breath as he started to whine. You glanced over to see one of the older men at the other table look over his shoulder at you. You bowed your head in a silent apology before looking at Jeonghan who just smiled, laughing maniacally to himself.

“You’re such a menace,” you whispered. Jeonghan swallowed a gulp of water before fixing you with a perplexed stare. “I’m a menace?” he asked. “Look at you,” he added, gesturing at you. You glanced down and back up, shrugging and shaking your head as if to say ‘and?’

Jeonghan scooped up some more bokkeumbap, eyes moving back to meet yours as he opened his mouth slowly and took the bite. You looked away as he made a completely innocent thing mildly suggestive. “See?” you hissed. “Menace!”

Jeonghan covered his mouth as he chuckled before swallowing. “I just like to see you squirm,” he replied softly. “But really,” he continued. “You’re calling me a menace when you’re looking like that?” he asked, glancing up again. You met his gaze, heart skipping. ‘Was he… slut shaming you?’

“Don’t get me wrong,” he started, as if reading your mind. “You look incredible,” he added. “But god does seeing you like that make me want to do things to you.”

You weren’t sure if you were meant to hear the last part and upon glancing at him and finding him staring at you with a smirk on his face, you knew he meant for you to hear him. How did he expect you to respond to such a sexual remark? And more importantly, how did you want to respond?

The heat pooling in your belly spurred your decision to egg him on. See where he would take this.

“Oh yeah?” you asked softly, looking up through your lashes at him. “Like what?”

The smirk on Jeonghan’s face only faltered for a moment before growing. “Shall I tell you?” he asked, leaning forward as he propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand. He had a sort of dazed smile on his face as he stared at you with those dark eyes.

“Or should I just show you?”

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

How you managed to keep your hands to yourself in the taxi ride back to Jeonghan’s apartment was beyond you. As soon as the elevator doors shut, he was on you in a split second, pinning you against the metal wall of the elevator, hands on your hips as his lips moved fervently against yours.

The doors dinged, announcing the arrival to his floor and Jeonghan all but dragged you out of the lift, steering you down the hall to the door to his apartment. He fumbled with the key, unlocking it after a couple tries, only for you to pull him in, shutting the door behind you.

You stood in front of the door, lips locked, tongues battling for dominance as his hands roamed your body and yours grabbed the lapel of his black wool coat. “Wait,” he murmured, pulling back to look at you, pupils dilated even in the dark room.

“I can’t let this go on without your consent,” he murmured, lips ghosting along your jaw and down the side of your neck. “I’m here, aren’t I?” you asked softly. Jeonghan shook his head, straightening up to stare you down yet again. “No,” he replied.

“I mean, yes. Yes you are here. But I need to hear you say it.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling him closer, lips brushing against his and making him pout when you didn’t kiss him. “I want this,” you muttered, brushing your lips against his again, making him chase your mouth, desperate enough for your kiss that he whined.

“I want you, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Your words had a profound effect on him and he groaned, backing you into the wall beside the front door.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, his body pressing you against the wall. “I’m so, so sorry.” You shook your head, tugging on his hair to make him pull back and look at you. “Don’t,” you said softly. “Don’t apologize. It doesn’t matter anymore,” you continued, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “You’re here now.” Jeonghan groaned, leaning back in, his lips crashing against yours.

You let out a groan as his hands moved down your body, fumbling to undo your coat. “I’m here,” he repeated, words muffled by your lips. “And I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head as he failed to unbutton your coat. “Neither am I,” you replied.

Your hands replaced his, undoing the buttons one by one before you shrugged the coat off, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in just the silver backless dress. Jeonghan grabbed your hips, spinning you away and pushing you against the wall, his hips pressing into your backside.

He slowly started to pull at the tie at the back of your neck, savoring the reactions your body gave him. He paused, lowering his head to press his lips against your shoulder, lips parting as he let his tongue glide over your skin before sinking his teeth into you.

You let out an almost pornographic moan as he bit you, spurring on the rolling of his hips against your ass as he rutted against you. His fingers made quickly work of your halter, untying it before his hands slid down your back to grab your hips, the material of your dress bunching under his hands.

He spun you back around to face him before his hands moved up to where you held the dress up to cover your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you, his hands moving to yours and pulling them away. The top of your dress tumbled down, stopping at your waist.

His hands moved up, cupping your now exposed breast, sighing as you arched your back into his touch, your hands tangling in his dark locks. Jeonghan’s hands moved back down, pushing your dress further down as he littered kisses all over your neck and collar.

You allowed the item to fall to the floor, stepping out of it as Jeonghan pulled you from the wall. Your hands slid down his chest, working to undo his slacks and push them down, stumbling over a forgotten shoe and giggling as Jeonghan grabbed your waist to steady you.

“Careful,” he hissed as you stood up straight. “I really don’t want to spend Christmas in the ER.” You leaned into him, pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll be careful,” you promised as you leaned against the back of the couch. You grabbed his shirt, pulling it up over his head and dropping it to the floor to admire his lean body. “You’ve been working out,” you noted as his hands tugged at your shirt, pulling it up over your head as well.

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he reminded you. “I’ve been going to the gym for a while.” You giggled as he pulled you up into him, kissing you as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the bedroom,” he murmured in between kisses. You shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “We’re not.”

You giggled as Jeonghan leaned forward, making you both tumble over the arm of the couch, him landing on top of you. “You didn’t think this through, did you?” you asked as you tried to scoot under him. He shook his head before pressing his lips against yours.

“When did I ever think anything through?” he asked with a smirk before sliding off you and the couch, moving to kneel in front of it. “Sit up,” he instructed. You scrambled to sit up, giggling as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the couch. “Don’t tease,” you whined as he kissed up your stomach slowly.

“I’m not,” he pouted before his hands moved back up to your chest, settling under your breast as he searched your face for any sign of apprehension. When he saw none, he continued. A loud clunk made your head whip around in the direction it came from.

“Eyes on me, angel,” you heard Jeonghan say softly, taking your chin in his hand and turning your head to meet his burning gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured. You opened your mouth to retort but let out a soft sigh as you felt his tongue lave over your nipple. His hands still on your hips as he nipped at and teased the bud. Your back arched, pressing your chest further against his face making him chuckle against your skin.

You felt one of his hands run up your back as the other stayed on your hip. “Not so mouthy now, are you?” you heard him murmur and looked down to meet his gaze once again. “No but you sure are,” you retorted, making him laugh as he pushed you back. His hands slid down your hips to your thighs, pulling your panties with them.

You lifted your feet as he pulled them off entirely and tossed them aside, hands moving under your hips to pull you closer to his face. “It’s been a while,” he admitted, glancing up at you as you reached down to comb your fingers through his dark tresses. “You never did this before,” you replied. “Not for me, anyway.” Jeonghan cocked his head. “You sure about that?” he asked and you nodded.

“I went down on you,” you reminded him. Jeonghan shrugged, grip tightening as he leaned in. Without another word, you felt his tongue lick slowly and glanced down at him, finding him already looking at you with hooded eyes. “Holy shit,” you gasped, the sight of him alone making your walls clench around nothing.

Jeonghan chuckled more to himself as he broke eye contact to look down at your heat. “Doesn’t take much, does it?” he asked, referencing your already leaking slit. “I barely touch you and your body is ready for something to fill it,” he added, one of his hands moving, fingers tracing around your entrance.

He looked back up, meeting your gaze as he slowly sank his fingers inside you, burying them to the hilt as his lips parted. “So tight,” he muttered, looking back down as he pulled his fingers slowly until just the tips remained. He gingerly pushed them back in, watching as your walls sucked them in.

“So warm,” he added. You groaned as you felt them curl inside you, brushing against the soft spongy spot that had your toes curling. “So wet for me,” he added with a hint of amusement to his voice. Even years later, he was still teasing you the way only he could.

His pace was slow, too slow to build any tension but just enough to give you some friction. He could do this for hours and you knew he could. Even if your previous encounter had been nothing but rushed and the very definition of a quickie.

It was amazing he still managed to tease you like this, working you up so well years later.

Like no time had passed and he was a skilled and practiced lover.

“Shit,” you gasped as Jeonghan’s fingers plunged deeper into your heat. “Don’t stop,” you gasped, your hand in his hair gripping tighter. You wanted to move his face closer, wanting to feel his tongue on you but he held back, reaching up instead to grab your hand and remove it.

“I’d love nothing more than to taste you,” he started. “But ever since you sat at my bar, I’ve wanted to fill this sweet pussy with my cock more.” You groaned as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, leaving you clenching around nothing with a whine.

“You want to be on top or you want me on top?” he asked as he wiped his fingers on the blanket that had fallen to the floor with a mental note to throw that in the washer tomorrow morning.

“Surprise me,” you said with a smirk.

The moment the words left your lips, you regretted them. Jeonghan had you pinned down against the cushions as he guided the head of his cock to your entrance. “Shit,” he cursed, hesitating. “I don’t have a condom on me,” he murmured. “They’re in the bedroom. I could go get one--”

You took his chin in your hand. “Are you clean?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He nodded fervently before asking you the same. You nodded, letting go of his face. “And I’m on the pill. Just do it. Before we lose the moment,” you replied.

Jeonghan said nothing, instead pushing into you, a deep groan leaving his lips as he slid in easily. You let out a whimper, head falling back against the cushion as his cock slowly stretched and filled your walls. The stretch was more than you remembered but it wasn’t painful.

When Jeonghan stopped moving, you heard him whisper a string of curses.

“When I said you were tight, I didn’t realize you were this tight,” he hissed. You hiked your leg higher, allowing him to sink deeper, making him shut up with a moan as his head fell into the crook of your neck. “Shit, okay,” he breathed, his breath hot against your skin, a thin layer of sweat starting to form.

“Can you move already?” you whined, trying to shift your hips but he put his weight down on you. “I’m trying not to cum, stop moving!” he hissed. You whined, body going still under him as you waited for him to regain his composure.

Watching the way his brow furrowed as he held off his own orgasm was kind of cute in a way. You took in the way his hair fell around his face, the ends with a slight curl. The long hair was growing on you.

“Alright,” he finally said, raising his head, sweat beading on his forehead. “I think I’m good.”

You opened your lips to respond but your words faltered as he pulled back and thrust sharply into you, making you gasp as your walls gripped him tightly. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last,” Jeonghan groaned, hips stalling. “We’ve barely even started,” you whined, moving a hand up to brush his hair back.

“I underestimated you,” you heard him whisper as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Feels too good,” he added, his breath hot against your skin. “Jeonghan,” you whined impatiently. He groaned as he raised his head. “Fine, fine,” he murmured, pulling out to thrust back slowly, setting a steady pace.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he growled. You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, hiking your let up around his waist as he leaned deeper into his thrusts, the sound of skin against skin starting to fill the room. A thin layer of sweat started to cover your body, feeling equal parts sticky and wet.

Jeonghan pulled back to look down at you, his free hand moving to your face. “Don’t hold back,” he muttered, freeing your bottom lip from between your teeth as you had been holding back your moans. “There’s no one around to catch us this time,” he added with a smirk.

You let go, letting out a loud moan as you felt the head of his cock bump the soft spot inside your cunt. “Oh god,” you gasped, one hand moving to grab his arm, squeezing his bicep. Jeonghan took note of your facial expression and the fluttering of your walls and angled his thrusts, aiming for the same spot again and smirking wider as you gasped out again

“Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice breathless. “Y-yeah,” you mewled, back arching as he hit the same spot repeatedly. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, thighs squeezing his waist. Jeonghan surprised you by stopping completely, your orgasm ebbing away like the tide.

“What the fuck, Jeonghan?” you hissed as he pulled out of you completely. You tried to prop yourself up but squealed as he grabbed your arm, pulling you up and pushing you onto your stomach over the arm of the couch. You had no time to ask what he was up to when you felt him reenter you from behind, setting into a heavy and relentless pace immediately.

Your breath was knocked out of you with each powerful thrust, mewls and moans tumbling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, d-don’t stop,” you moaned, lips parted. Jeonghan growled, wrapping an arm around your chest and pulling your back against his chest.

“I should have had you like this before,” he whispered in your ear. “In my cabin. Not in some half rundown boathouse.” You let out a squeal as you felt Jeonghan’s cock plunge deeper into your cunt. “I shouldn’t have just left--”

“Stop,” you gasped. Jeonghan’s hips slowed. “No, don’t stop that,” you replied quickly. “I meant, stop talking about that.” You let out a moan as he resumed his merciless pace. “Right. We can talk later,” he groaned. “For now…” he trailed off, free hand slipping down between your thighs, fingers finding your clit with ease.

“I want you to cum,” he whispered in your ear. “Cum for me and then I’ll fill you up.”

Your walls clenched around him, your orgasm approaching as he drew you closer and closer with each thrust. “That’s it, come on,” he muttered. “Let go, angel.”

You let out a whine, feeling his hips stutter as you came, walls gripping him tightly. “Fuck, that’s right. Keep going,” he murmured, continuing to fuck you through your climax. “Good girl,” he said softly. You felt his grip relax, sighing in relief as he carefully set you back against the armrest, taking one of your arms and pinning it behind your back.

“Hold on tight,” he continued, his free hand gripping your hip, fingers digging into your flesh.

You didn’t get a word out before he started pounding into you, cries falling from your lips with each drag of his cock against your walls. “Fuck,” he hissed. You felt his cock twitch inside you, his own release drawing closer. “M’not gonna last,” he moaned, his grip on your arm tightening as he held you in place.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, using your free hand to push yourself back against his thrusts. “Come on,” you continued. “Fucking cum.” Jeonghan let out a growl. “You want me to cum?” he asked. “Want me to cum inside you, claim this pussy as mine?” You nodded fervently. “Yes,” you replied. “Give it to me, please. Want it so bad!”

Your words seemed to do the trick, pushing Jeonghan over the edge as he came with a groan, hips coming to a halt as he buried his cock inside you, releasing deep into your cunt. “Shit!” he hissed. You pushed back, fucking yourself on his cock as he continued to pump you full of his cum.

“Shit, Y/N, stop,” he stammered, body twitching. “Fuck, babe, stop,” he repeated, letting go of your arm and holding your hips still. “Sorry,” you whimpered. “Felt too good.”

Jeonghan let out a breathless chuckle before leaning over your back, pressing a remarkably gentle kiss against your shoulder before pulling back and watching as he pulled his cock free. He leaned back to get a better look, almost smirking deviously as some of his cum started to spill out of you.

“Can I take a picture?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up. “What?” you asked, looking back over your shoulder at him. “It’s just for me,” he added. “I want to remember this,” he continued, nodding down at your cunt. You contemplated it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, go ahead.”

You felt him scramble off the couch, walking over to where his pants lay on the floor and pulled the device from his pocket, moving back behind you to presumably take a couple pictures.

You felt his hand on your ass, his thumb spreading your lips before his fingers moved, pushing into your cunt, making you groan. “What’re you doing?” you asked. “Pushing it back in,” he replied. “Some of it spilled out.”

You glanced back, seeing his phone still in his hand. “Are you filming this?” you asked softly and he nodded, tapping on the screen before setting his phone on the coffee table. “Sorry,” he added. “I couldn’t resist.” You caught an eyeful of his cock, standing proudly again.

“You wanna fuck it back into me?” you asked, making him look up to meet your gaze.

“Can I?” he asked, to which you nodded.

“Sure,” you replied. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.”

You weren’t sure how you managed to go another two rounds with Jeonghan, each time ending with him filling you with even more of his cum but finally, he tapped out after moving to the bedroom to continue. You chose to hop in the shower, knowing his cum would slip out while you slept.

After cleaning up, you joined him back in bed and passed out.

The next morning, Jeonghan awoke to sunlight pouring into his room through the blinds and blinked himself awake. He rolled over, hand reaching for you but found the space you’d previously occupied empty. His heart skipped a beat, pounding in his chest as he sat up quickly, looking around.

‘Oh no,’ he thought as he scrambled out of bed, throwing off the covers. He was grabbing a clean pair of sweats when the smell of eggs met his nose. He pulled on his pants and walked over to the door that stood slightly ajar, pulling it open and stepping into the hall.

He padded down the hallway and into the living area where he found you, wearing one of his old oversized shirts as you stood at the counter. “Morning,” you said with a smile as you cooked. Jeonghan’s lips pulled into a crooked smile as he moved to sit at the kitchen island, watching you work.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” you asked as you stirred the contents of the skillet. Jeonghan shook his head, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you. “Nothing,” he murmured. “I could just get used to this.”

“Used to this? What, me cooking?” you asked with a snort. Jeonghan nodded. “And seeing you in my clothes,” he added with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes as you started to plate the food. Jeonghan heard the sound of a key in the lock and internally panicked. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I thought you lived alone,” you said as he turned towards the door and watched in horror as the door opened and Seungcheol entered, dropping his bag by the door as he looked up at Jeonghan, excitement on his face. “You’re never going to guess what happened to me last night,” he said as he walked forward.

“We got drinks and then- oh!” Seungcheol started, pausing when he caught sight of you in the kitchen in Jeonghan’s shirt. “Hello!” he added, glancing between you and Jeonghan. “Who is this?” he asked, looking at Jeonghan whose cheeks started to grow warm. He’d been caught, metaphorically, with his pants down and now he was going to have to come clean to his best friend and roommate.

“This,” Jeonghan started, glancing at you and then back at his best friend. “Is Y/N.”

Seungcheol smiled, looking at you before the realization dawned on him and his eyes widened comically. “Oh! Y/N?” he asked, turning to Jeonghan. “Like… the Y/N?” Jeonghan glanced quickly at you, noticing your furrowed brows. “The Y/N?” you asked softly.

Jeonghan forced an awkward smile, turning to you. “How would you like to eat breakfast in bed?” he asked with a pointed look. You glanced between him and Seungcheol. “O-okay,” you said, looking every bit as confused as you sounded. Jeonghan motioned for you to pick up the plates, saying he would follow shortly.

He turned to Seungcheol as you headed for his room.

“Don’t touch the blanket or the couch,” he said quickly. “I have some cleaning to do,” he added, starting for his room before stopping to look back at Seungcheol who made a face of disgust as he looked at the couch. “We’ll talk later,” Jeonghan added, pointing at Seungcheol who nodded.

Back in his room, Jeonghan shut the door and moved to sit beside you on the bed.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured as he took a plate from you and started to dig in, complimenting your cooking skills. You thanked him as you finished your bite and swallowed. “So,” you started, gathering more eggs on your fork. Jeonghan looked up to meet your gaze, a smug smirk on your face.

“The Y/N?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Just how many people have you told about me?”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fanfiction #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #tales from camp holiday special

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3399

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background/minor themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Series Masterpost for all chapters

2. Hazelnut Ganache Tart

Mary does sober up during her shift.

She feels kind of miserable, so she’s thankful that it’s a slow Monday. She’s also vaguely ashamed of how she’d shown up to work. It’s a new low, even for her. And then someone had seen her and called her out on it. It’s mortifying.

The encounter with Bucky preoccupies her thoughts all day, and she winds up burning a batch of croissants as she daydreams. She’s more careful after that, taking extra care with the assembly of her hazelnut ganache tarts.

Focusing on the intricate details of the pastries, on executing them perfectly, helps her to calm down and forget about the embarrassing encounter. For a little while at least. Alcohol would be better, and by the time she’s clocking out she’s already thinking about getting home so she can have the relief of a drink.

Or ten.

If anything, she throws back the first few even faster than usual, eager to wipe the memory of what’d happened that morning out of her mind.

Bucky, she thinks acerbically. What a stupid name.

And the nerve of him! To just assume those things about her. Has that loser never seen somebody hungover at work before? It's quite the presumptuous leap from that to … submissive.

‘Dominant’. Mary rolls her eyes. He could’ve just been making it up. Probably was. She’s certainly never met anybody who’s just come out and announced it the way he had. What a bizarre thing to do. It’s not like it’s something people go around broadcasting. It’s … well it’s a mental disorder, isn’t it?

They’d mentioned it in her Psych101 class back in college, but she’d dropped out before that semester was halfway through. Unable to help herself, she pulls out her phone and googles “Dominant,” then navigates to the Wikipedia page on “Dominant and Submissive Personality Disorder.” She winds up getting sucked into reading about it. But as soon as the article starts talking about the submissive subsection, she closes the browser in discomfort.

She remembers back to the encounter with that guy—Bucky. He hadn’t seemed like there was anything wrong with him (other than being bossy and intrusive as fuck). But where the heck did he get off throwing out psych diagnoses at total strangers? Mary's cheeks grow hot the more she thinks about his cocksure attitude and the pitying way he’d looked at her.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Doll.”

She remembers how he’d spoken to her, how he’d called her out on her behavior and spoken so assuredly, like he could see right into her. Like he knew all her secrets. It’d been unnerving.

Her pulse quickens as she thinks about it. The way his big hand had felt, wrapped so securely around her wrist. And how he’d squeezed her wrist—slowly, gently.

“Oh, honey. I think you are.”

Fuck, it’d made her knees go weak.

Sighing, she takes the bottle of vodka and her glass to the couch and plops down, using the remote to turn the tv onto YouTube. She starts up a playlist that she can lose herself in—music videos, stuff from all the tv shows she likes, edits, fail compilations, whatever. Maybe it’s pathetic that this is how she spends most nights, but there’s no one that she has to impress. And she can’t bear the feeling of being alone in her brain otherwise. At least this way everything is warm and entertaining. She pours herself a little more, throwing off the ratio of vodka to ginger ale, but the taste doesn't bother her nearly as much once she's on the third or fourth drink.

The bottle’s half empty, and she wonders if she’ll finish it. She’ll be drunk again at work tomorrow morning, if she does. Yikes. She’ll stop after two more. One more. Two more.

The bottle’s three-quarters empty and an Adam Lambert music video is blasting on the tv. He really is the most underappreciated vocalist of his generation! And he’s got such nice makeup, too …

Maybe she won’t even go to work tomorrow, Mary thinks manically. They don’t appreciate her there anyway. Maybe she’ll just stay here and drink the rest of this and enjoy herself until… until…

The bottle’s empty and the party’s in full swing. No worries though, she thinks, she’s got some of that nasty cheap rum in the back of the pantry. Blecgh. She orders DoorDash that she doesn’t really have the money to be wasting on, puts on makeup while lip syncing to the tv, and thinks about calling Chase to tell him what a loser he is and how glad she is that they broke up. Haven’t had to use this concealer to cover up anything but acne in over a year.

Rum isn’t so bad when you mix it with orange juice!

She gets on a depressing video kick. She bemoans the state of politics, then society, the world, her life. She goes through all the old pictures in her phone and gets pissed at the ones with Chase in them. She imagines running into her ex somewhere random, with a super hot new boyfriend on her arm. She imagines the dumbstruck expression he’d have on his face, and how she’d introduce her way-hotter new boyfriend to him.

Ohmygosh, Chase! How’ve you been?! Oh me? I’m doing great. This is Bucky, he’s a surgeon-slash-green beret-slash-musician. Ha! Yeah well we just got back from two months in the Bahamas, so that’s why we’re so tan.

It’s the rum, Mary decides. It makes her sad. She stops feeling fun and happy, and starts feeling lonely and morose. She finds the cardboard sleeve that Bucky had written that phone number on. Hell no, she’s not calling it. She’s got the internet. There’s tons of info online about this stuff that she can look up. Besides, it’s just curiosity. She’s not like him. She's not like that.

She googles BDSM disorder and clicks on the first search result, which winds up being porn. That’s a mistake, but then she decides to watch the porn anyway, because it’s sexy—plus, it's sort of educational, right?

The porn starts making her even more sad. She stares at the paper cup sleeve in her hand while some girl gets the tar beat out of her backside. The last video had been an over-the-lap spanking video—Mary had liked that one. But this doesn’t look nice at all. Especially when the guy switches to hitting her with a friggin’ stick.

Is this the sort of stuff Bucky likes to do? Jeez.

She has the receipt that Bucky wrote his own number on, too. On impulse, she pulls out her phone and starts to enter a new contact.

“Asshole Dom Bucky,” she mumbles as she types the words and saves the new contact number with a giggle. It takes more than one try, her fingers not hitting the right keys very often, but she gets it done.

She comes very, very close to calling Bucky, but winds up calling the hotline phone number instead at the last minute. She’ll whine and cry to them instead, she thinks. At least they’re strangers. She can tell them anything. It’s confidential, anonymous. They can’t tell anyone what she says.

A woman picks up the phone and greets her in a calm, friendly voice.

“Hello, my name is Sharon. I’m a volunteer counselor at the National Submissive Crisis Intervention Hotline.”

“Whatever,” Mary slurs. She is so drunk. She gulps more of her rum and OJ, thinks about going and getting the little razor blade that she only thinks about picking up when she’s wasted. Sometimes it feels nice to do something outrageous when she’s this sad. Nobody can stop her from it, and that feels nice, too. “M’not having a crisis,” she mumbles.

“Okay,” Sharon says, voice still so pleasant and accommodating. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Okay Mary. I’m glad you called. Would you like to talk to me about what you’re going through? We can talk about anything you’d like.”

“I’m not a freak,” Mary blurts out. “You know? Submissive, or whatever. I’m not. M’normal.”

“Okay,” Sharon says calmly. “Well just so you know, I’m not here to judge. I’m on the spectrum myself.”

Mary blows air through her teeth disdainfully—though deep down, she guesses it’s nice to know that. "So what," she mutters. "You're like, a submissive?

“I’m actually dominant, but I’m not going to do anything to try and boss you around or control you. I’m just here to listen to and support you.”

“Oh.” She looks down at her glass, feeling like she doesn’t even want to finish drinking it. She’s tired … And sad. “Kay,” she mumbles. “Well I’m not. Like that.”

“You don’t think you have a designation disorder."

Designation disorder, pfft. Mary scoffs again. “Yeah, no.”

“Then why did you call tonight? Do you need someone to talk to?”

She grumbles unintelligibly, then repeats herself when the woman on the phone prompts her. “Some guy just gave me this number. He said that I was.”

“He said that you were what, Honey?”

“… Submissive.” She says the word quietly, embarrassed of it. “But what does he know, right?” She huffs. “Fucking stranger. He doesn’t know me.”

“Okay. What are you going through tonight?” Sharon asks, still sounding kind but also mildly worried. “Do you want to talk about that? About what made you call the hotline?”

Mary sniffles, feeling stupid. She’s suddenly tearing up and she doesn’t even know why. She wipes her eyes hastily and takes another big sip of her drink. “I’m drinking,” she says tearfully, bluntly, expecting to be scolded for it. "M'drunk."

“Okay,” Sharon says. She doesn’t sound mad. “Okay Mary, are you by yourself right now?”

“Yeah. M’in my apartment.”

“Okay. Okay. … Do you drink alone there often?”

Oh. That hits hard for some reason, and suddenly Mary’s crying, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to hold back a sob.

“Mary? Are you there, Honey?”

Honey. Mary cries harder. That's what Bucky had called her. She likes hearing it, but also she feels desperately sad because it reminds her about how she’s all alone and doesn’t have someone to call her ‘Honey’ or ‘Doll’ or ‘good girl’. And nobody’s ever spanked her over their lap, either.

“Mary?”

“Yeah,” she says, voice all choked up. “Yeah, m’here.”

“Okay. Good.” Mary can hear the sound of typing on the other end of the line. “How are you feeling Mary? Do you think we could make a plan together? Maybe drink some water and get you ready for bed? It’s late. You must be tired, huh?”

Mary sniffles. “Um,”

“It’d make me so happy if we could make a plan, Mary. Would you do that for me?”

“... Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s so great. Good girl.”

Mary’s face crumples. She’s not a good girl. She’s not good at all!

Sharon hears her crying harder and asks worriedly what’s wrong. “Mary,” she says, voice sharper—stern-sounding. “Mary, you need to talk to me and tell me what’s happening.”

“Sh-sharon?” Mary cries. “What I tell you is private, right? You won’t tell anyone or report me, will you?”

“... The goal is to keep you safe, Honey. I’m here to help you do that,” Sharon says. “You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

She sounds so kind and caring, so steady, and it makes Mary want to tell her everything. It’s been so hard, not having anyone to talk to. And anyway she’s already crying at this point, and it feels good in that way that crying sometimes does, so she might as well. It’s confidential.

She takes a deep breath, takes another big gulp from her glass, and starts spilling her guts to this stranger named Sharon over the phone.

Bucky’s phone rings early in the morning. He groans as he wakes up, grumpily reaching for it. He peeks at the red numbers of the alarm clock over on Steve’s side of the bed: 4:30 AM.

If this is a robocall this early in the morning, he’s going to be tempted to commit capital murder. “Hello?” he rasps.

“Hello. Is this, um … ‘Bucky’?”

It’s a man’s voice. Bucky squints blearily up at the bedroom’s popcorn ceiling. “Yeah? Who is this?”

“Sir, my name is Officer Santiago with the New York Police Department. I’m calling from Holy Cross Hospital.”

“Hospital?” Bucky says, more alert at hearing that. “You’re a cop?” Why is a cop calling him? Bucky can’t think of a good reason.

“Yes Sir.”

He sits up in the bed. Beside him, Steve starts waking up, too. “Mmph, who is it?” he asks sleepily.

“What’s happened?” Bucky asks, dread already curling in his gut, imagining who could be hurt or dead at the hospital that they’re calling him at this hour …

“We have a woman here,” the officer says. “She called a crisis hotline. The operator was worried about her safety, she contacted us.”

“Those hotlines are supposed to be confidential,” Bucky growls.

“She was making threats of self harm. We had to pick her up. We’ve got her down here at the E.R. at Holy Cross. Involuntary hold.”

“Wait a minute ... What was the hotline she called?” Bucky asks, as the thought occurs to him and he hopes he’s wrong. “It wasn’t a D/s hotline, was it?”

Beside him in the bed, Steve is grimacing and rubbing his eyes. “Babe?”

“Some submissive crisis line, yeah,” the officer says.

Bucky’s heart sinks. The woman from the coffee shop yesterday. “Mary,” he murmurs, remembering how neat and cute her handwriting was on her nametag and on the side of his to-go cup. “Shit,” he says.

“She’s stable. She has minor self-inflicted injuries but nothing life threatening. We found your number in her phone.” Here is where the officer starts to sound uneasy. “You’re listed here as her, um … her Dom.”

“I … am?” Bucky’s eyebrows climb his forehead. He hadn’t thought the girl would keep his cell number, let alone save him as a contact. He’d thought he’d pissed her off, that she was too proud, too mortified.

“Babe, who is it?” Steve asks, awake now and frowning at Bucky in concern. He can tell something’s wrong. Bucky shushes him with a gesture and Steve’s face flashes with annoyance. Bucky gives him an apologetic wince.

“Specifically, you’re listed under ‘Asshole Dom Bucky’.” The officer clears his throat uncomfortably. “She wouldn’t give us a number to call, and department policy is to contact designation partners, if possible.”

Bucky opens his mouth to tell the officer that he’s not Mary’s partner, that he doesn’t even really know her. But he stops himself, thinking about what happens to subs who get dragged into the E.R. and go unclaimed. “I … yeah,” he hedges. “Yeah, that’s me.” After an awkward pause and feeling guilty for the lie, he checks, “You said she’s okay?”

“Yes. She’s pretty upset, and intoxicated. But the doctor checked her out and said she’s okay. Well … physically-speaking,” he adds awkwardly. “They’re ready to admit her.”

“Psych unit?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky sighs. “No. That’s not good. It’d be better if I came and got her.”

“Okay.” The officer sounds relieved. “She uh, she’s pretty upset.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” Bucky says. “What does that mean? Is she frantic?”

“She’s angry,” the officer says, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep his voice low now. Bucky wonders if Mary is somewhere in the near vicinity of the officer. “Drunk and super pissed. Belligerent.”

“Is she restrained right now?” Bucky asks, worried.

“Yeah. Cuffed to the bed.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “She shouldn’t be restrained by a stranger. It’s not healthy for her. Can't you just watch her?”

“Sorry Sir, that’s our policy when we bring in the involuntary cases. We have to do it.”

Bucky is already up and heading to the closet to grab clothes. “Okay,” he says curtly. “I’m coming to get her. I’ll be there within the hour.”

The officer thanks him and Bucky hangs up. He looks back at Steve, who is propped up on his side and staring at him in something close to shock.

“Buck, what the hell?”

Bucky winces and goes back to the bed. He climbs up and takes Steve’s hand. Steve isn’t on the spectrum, but his dynamic with Bucky has always been more on the subservient side. Bucky sees that he’s not mad, is just waiting for an explanation, so he takes a breath and tells him, “You remember the woman I told you about? The one at the coffee shop?”

Steve nods. “The lemon tarts.”

“Yeah, her. She’s in the hospital. A psych hold, that was the NYPD on the phone. Somehow they think I’m her Dom, and she’s being difficult. Won’t give ‘em a name of anybody they can release her to.”

“Oh, man.” Steve is well-educated on the intricacies of Designated people: He’s married to one, after all.

“Baby.” Bucky rubs the back of Steve’s hand. “I have to go get her.”

“You don’t ‘have’ to,” Steve corrects. He looks at Bucky knowingly. “But you want to, don’t you?”

Bucky doesn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or not. “I … yeah. I want to.” He and Steve have talked about the possibility of bringing another person into their marriage one day, a submissive to meet Bucky’s needs. Steve has always been open to the idea, especially since they’re both bisexual.

“We gonna try and make that work out?”

Bucky scoffs. “That’s way down the road.”

“But it would be good for you too, wouldn’t it?”

He shrugs, and then admits, “Yeah, probably.” Bucky’s what’s known as a ‘high needs’ dominant. The condition affects him more severely than it does others. He tries to figure out if Steve is at all upset by what they’re discussing. “It’s crazy, I know,” he says. “Not exactly what we always talked about. We don’t even know her.”

“But she’s in trouble,” Steve says. “And you were drawn to her.”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t think she has anyone else to go to. And they’re talking about admitting her to the psych unit.”

“That’s not good, is it?”

“No. They won’t have the knowledge to help her. Places like that tend to use meds first and ask questions second.” He sees Steve’s wince and nods. “It could definitely make things worse.”

“What’s wrong with her? Subdrop?”

“I don’t know. Cop said she was self-harming and drinking. That’s all I know so far.”

Steve nods. “Can I go with you?” he looks hopeful and ready to jump into action, and Bucky is surprised—even though he knows he shouldn’t be.

“Babe, you want to do this? Bring her home? Take care of her?”

Steve nods, stalwart. “We should try. It’s the best option she has. If it works out, great. And if not … well we can get her the help she needs, at least.”

Bucky nods. Steve is on-board. He doesn’t think this is stupid, or crazy. Bucky’s chest swells with affection for him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Steve leans over and kisses him on the mouth. “I trust you,” he says. “And I love you.”

Bucky smiles, stupidly in-love with his husband. “Love you too, Stevie.”

They kiss once more, and then Steve is pulling back and clapping his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get going if we’re really doing this.” He hefts himself out of the bed, moving with purpose. “She’s waiting for us.”

Us, Bucky thinks happily, realizing that it’s true: They’re husbands—soulmates, in his opinion. They’re partners, an inseparable unit ever since the day they got married, and they do everything together. So it’ll be the two of them taking care of this woman together. They’ll be a team, each giving her what she needs in their own ways. And maybe it’ll go somewhere, who knows? Thinking about it makes Bucky feel settled and satisfied inside, the barest ghost of the sort of feeling he gets from domming someone.

Impulsive as it is, he’s got a hunch that this is the right decision.

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