#I guess I just hope that if I put all this energy into making something bigger than I’m used to. That maybe something will come from it.
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cute wings
(sfw)
Nameless!Sunday x Nameless!reader
Based on Sunday's ultimate animation and my own headcanons about halovian's lore.
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"So what was that move you whip out earlier? The one with the vines and everything!" You said, clearly impressed while sitting down on one of the couch.
"Have you been hiding the other two pair of wings or do they only come out when you do that last move?" You asked eagerly when Sunday enter the parlor car, the both of you having just gotten back from your trailblazing expidition together. Your eyes following him as he joins you on the couch, with sparks of curiosity in it.
It hasn't been that long since Sunday joined the Astral express, but he could definitely say that it's been enough for him to start opening up to all the nameless and vice versa.
"Ah, are you refering to my supporting spell?" This is the case especially for you, with your seemingly endless energy and desire to learn about everything, it's only a matter of time before you start flooding him with all these question about anything that piqued your interest.
"For halovians, our wings are like a representation of our emotion and power, similar to that of our halo." Sunday pause for a moment, you guessed to try and think of an answer that will satisfy your question.
"To put it simply, take that fight we just won earlier for example, I was using my power to aid us, the wings that appeared were due to my strong emotion and use of power at the moment." He turned to look at you as you nod multiple times, trying to grasp your head around the new information like a lost puppy trying to figure out where it is.
You do that quite often - something Sunday has took notice and find endearing.
Cute, he think.
"Sooo... does that mean the wings can only come out when you are in a state like that?" You finally said after some time. "Aw pity, I was hoping you could make them appear anytime you know, I think they are really adorable!" You said what you were thinking with all honesty, completely oblivious to the fact that your last comment caught the halovian off guard and flustered to his core, hints of red dusting his cheeks.
"Th-that is not entirely correct, I can make them visible if I want to, but I'll need to be in a state of strong emotion or focus on my power in that case." Sunday tries to brush of your compliment about his wings with his answer, but before he could given it anymore thoughts, you have already came up with an idea.
Sunday jolts slightly as you prop your chin onto his shoulder, your face display a smug expression, looking up at him with your hand on top of his own.
"Wait, if I'm correct... Then I'll just have to make you feel emotions strong enough for your cute wings to come out, right?"
Huh? What did you just say? What are you planning? How did- what? There is a million things going through Sunday's head right now and the fact that your gaze are still fixed on him while this is happening does not help at all. Sunday doesn't know what is worse, the way he got insanely flustered just by a few compliments or you being extremely close to him right now.
"Well...? Aren't you gonna say anything?" He heard you said in the slowest and most teasing way possible, as if to get even more reaction from him. Before he could even answer, you stood up and move infront of him.
"Sunday." you said while bending down to face him, your hands on your knees and face tilting down at him with an adoring smile.
Huh?
"Yes?" He managed to say, his head spinning to guess what are you planning to say next.
"Although it hadn't been long since you join the express, you have been adapting and trying your best to keep up with the crew really well." Sunday can feel his cheeks burning with every sweet words uttered from your mouth. You on the other hand, are determined to get his marvelous wings to come out.
"You have done a great job as a nameless... Don't you think so too?" You continue, still looking down at him but leaned in a bit closer, too close for Sunday to maintain his composure. If he still has any, that is.
"Ah, th-thank you. That's very kind of you to say." As his wings move to cover his face, he can here an audible 'aww' coming from you which caught him by surprise. Resulting in him moving them to his side again, for a better view of what was happening.
"It worked!" Opening his eyes, Sunday sees you smiling and gushing over his wings - ah, right, his other wings that have appeared due to him being oh so flustered just by your simple remarks.
"May I touch them?" You asked, your gaze gentle, yet still intense that it makes Sunday gulp nervously as his face turn even more red.
"Yes, you may." Sunday doesn't know why he gave you permission, as if you being in such close proximity to him wasn't enough to get his heart pounding. Especially with the fact that his wings are actually pretty sensitive.
With a happy grin, you reach out to glide over the feathers with the back of your hand, not missing how doing it make Sunday shudders a bit.
"Oh, sorry!" You retrieve your hand after noticing.
"No no, it's fine... please continue." He assured, not wanting you to feel bad. Even if he doesn't exactly want you to keep thumbing his wings like this... purely because it's making him all embarrassed and a blushing mess.
"You know... what I said earlier about you joining the express. I wasn't just teasing you, I actually meant it." You reach out for his wings again, this time with a soft smile, making sure he knows you are being sincere.
Sunday made a dumbfounded expression, or atleast you think he is, his face shows a mix of gratitude and confusion as he stare at you.
"I am grateful that you hold me on such high regards, though... I do not believe I have made any significant contribution to the express, more less better than all of you." Sunday answered truthfully. How could you say all these good things about him when he doesn't deserve any of it? How are you still able to welcome him with open arm? After all his mistakes, after the grand pursuit of a dream paradise through such manipulative methods, and-
"Sunday!"
He blinked,
Once,
Twice,
"Hey, are you okay? You just zoned out for a moment." You move your hands from his wings to his shoulder, sitting down next to him again, tone worried.
"Sorry... I was just deep in thought. Were you saying something?" He quickly apologized, feeling bad for making you worried. Yet again another reason he doesn't deserve your praises, Sunday blames himself.
"I said stop thinking bad about yourself. Don't ever say anything like that... nobody is perfect, everyone has their own flaws and values. You just have to not let your doubts get to you." You turned Sunday towards your direction a bit, so that he's looking at you in the eyes.
"Hm, promise me you'll never think negatively about yourself again." You said firmly, waiting for him.
"I-I promise." With an exhale Sunday replied to you, smilling. "Thank you."
You smile back "There we go, now that's my little angle~"
!?
This is the second time you have caught him off guard in this conversation. Little angle? At this point he swear you will be the death of him eventually, Sunday think as you suddenly lit up.
"Well, let's lighten things up a bit..." you said, pulling out your phone. "Say cheeseeee" what are y-
Snap
Just like that, a picture of Sunday smilling sheepishly and flapping his wings was sent to the astral express family group chat. Earning you a panic, embarrassed Sunday and the multiple 'aww's from the trailblazer and March.
_
The Astral Express Family
You: (picture)
You: I found a happy bird on the express today~
March: aww
Trailblazer: wow! Six wings!
Trailblazer: aww
Sunday: ...
_
#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#sunday hsr#sunday honkai star rail#sunday x reader#sunday x you#star rail sunday
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I can't believe it but part 3 of this :
_"Hey guys!" Monkey king jumped off his cloud and into the sand where the gang was waiting at the shore,
_"Monkey king! Are you okay?! Where's Macaque?!" MK asked worriedly,
_"Hey hey, easy budy. I'm as gorgeous as ever and Macaque is asleep." Wukong put his hands on MK's shoulders and he could feel MK relaxing after saying that,
_"Oh, that's great. Wait- asleep? Why is he asleep?" MK went back to his worry,
_"He was trying to find new info about the crown as well and stayed up for a couple of nights so I thought I'd just let him sleep."
_"he must be working hard... did he find anything?"
_"Unfortunately no."
_"Fiddle sticks... But don't worry! We found something! But thankfully it's wrong."
_"Why would you say that?"
_"Because if what we found is true, Macaque would've been dead by now." Mr. Tang added,
_"What?" it was almost a whisper, Wukong now understands why MK was so worried, "Ahem. Why? What did you find?" he asked hoping it's nothing serious,
_"Well, the scroll said it's 'the corrupted king's crown'. It's supposed to take over the person wearing it. Once under its control, they start to destroy everything around them until it absorbs all their energy... and soul..."
_"Well no need to worry. Macaque has healed nicely and hasn't used his powers to destroy anything, so maybe it's another crown or the information is badly translated." Wukong said smiling,
_"Really?! Oh that great!" MK felt relieved, so did everyone else, their faces finally lit up.
_"Show me the scroll and I'll look into it, maybe ask a few old friends."
_"of course, here." Mr. Tang gets the scroll out of his bag and gives it to him.
_"Now that that's out of the way, I feel so much more relaxed and super hungry, I'd love to eat some noodles." Mei said giving Pigsy a side eye and everyone else joined,
_"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!! I GET IT!" Pigzy snaps at her, well... if he's being honest, he's also hungry.
_"Do you and Macaque want to join us?" MK asks the monkey king before they started heading towards the ship to leave.
_"I don't think that's a good idea, kiddo. Staying here is safer for him." Wukong felt his heart squeeze when he saw MK's disappointed face, "Once he's all good, we'll go together and have a feast." he said and winked at MK, and it did make him a bit happier.
Once everyone left, Wukong opened the scroll. Damn it. It is the same crown... Is that why Macaque couldn't use his powers? Is that why he couldn't heal and needed my powers? Is that why he couldn't recover his memories? He did say that he feels pain in his entire body every time he tries to use them...
That's...
GREAT! So as long as Moonpie wears the crown he won't leave. But... the soul sucking part is worrying. He hasn't lost his mind yet so maybe the spell wasn't completed properly when whoever did this put it on him. I need to make sure that part is out of the way-
_"Wukong?" Macaque startled Wukong when he came from behind him,
_"Oh, peach! What are you doing here?"
_"I heard them leave so I came. Did they find anything?"
_"Sorry peach, they only thought they found something but it doesn't fit so we're back to zero."
_"Oh.. That's disappointing."
_"Hey hey, don't be sad, it's just a little set back, you'll be fine, I promise." Wukong hugged Macaque and gave him a little forehead kiss,
_"Yeh, I guess." Macaque said hugging Wukong back, "I just don't know what to do. I'm lost." Why...
_"Well, for starters, how about we take a long hot shower, and then I give you a little massage aaaaand maybe we can watch TV, there's a show I KNOW you're gonna love."
_"*sniff* yeh, that sounds good." Why are you lying?
_"yeh?" Wukong held Macaque's face in his hands, "You have nothing to worry about."
_"I know." Macaque said as Wukong wiped his tears, "I have you."
_"Yeh you do! Now let's go, we'll order some food as well."
_"oh I love that! Can we get some noodles?"
_"I'll get you whatever you want." You just have to stay with me and I'll give you the world.
_"I want a piggyback."
_"pffff, haha! Alright, get up here." he held him on his back and headed back home.
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Dating Pickles Headcanons
First post being about Pickles,,, who would've guessed!!
I think he's the most boyfriend material out of the whole band,,, not biased at all !
He's not traditionally romantic with dinner and flowers and the likes, but he has his own Pickles' charm. Picture lazy days in bed, watching trash T.V, your head on his chest, his arm around you, and his hand mindlessly running up and down your side. It's tender, it's intimate, and probably a third chick named Mary Jane involved.
He values quality time a lot. He doesn't care what the two of you do as long as it's together. Even though he's a billionaire I think he would enjoy doing the most mundane things. In fact, I'd go as far to say out of all the band members, he has an appreciation for the little things the most. I think walking around an empty park late at night with an arm wrapped around you, doing nothing but talking and feeding the swans, is his idea heaven.
He also feeds on energy, so please match his. He may be the most emotionally mature in the band, but he's still just as much of a jack-ass.
An actual dumbass during the crush stage, somebody please stop him before he hurts himself. He's showing off his drum skills, his alcohol tolerance, literally anything and everything to be seen as cool in your eyes. He'll snap out of it eventually and it's something that embarrasses him when he looks back on it; definitely being teased by the other guys about it.
He's going to want to introduce you to his family. It will be deep in the relationship when he knows he's serious about you, not right off the bat or anything. He still desires approval from his mother and a small part of him still hopes to fix the damage in their relationship, do even though it's probably a super bad idea he's taking you up to Tomahawk. It's a disaster, obviously. He'll be nervous the whole time, and the hope in his eyes will be enough to put you in cardiac arrest if you look too long. Molly will either hate you or try setting you up with Seth, no in between. Pickles will be at your defense during either scenarios. You're both going to leave emotionally exhausted but Pickles will be a wreck especially. Please comfort him and reassure him. Make sure he realizes that nothing about his shirty family will affect the two of you.
Other than quality time I think his strongest love language is words of affirmation. It can be as little as a special pet name that's exclusively for him to high praise. Any words of genuine affection make his insides feel twisted up, in a good way.
I think he would like his partner to be a little possessive. Not anything crazy but like if they suddenly tugged him closer when around others, or put their hand on his waist while at an event, he will be swooning in no time. He likes feeling wanted.
He is the best at comforting. He doesn't even have to try, really. His general presence just instantly puts a person at ease. If you were ever upset though he would stop whatever he was doing and get you somewhere quiet if you weren't already. If you don't want to be touched, he'll respect that, and just be there with you until you're ready or want to talk. If you don't mind, he'll pull you in his lap and just hold you close. He won't say much or make you talk, but he does want to be there, just to make sure you're okay with his own two eyes.
He will mindlessly bring you up in conversation. Doesn't even mean to you're just always on his mind subconsciously. He's a smitten partner, truly.
Overall, Pickles is just a genuine guy who has a few emotional hang-ups involving self-worth, but he's working on it, with you.
#metalocalypse x reader#pickles the drummer#pickles the drummer x reader#pickles the drummer x you#headcanon#metalocalypse#x reader#pickles x reader
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hey! before I begin, I wanted to say how much I love your comics!! the style and palettes are really soothing, and it's always nice to read them, relate heavily, and not feel quite such an oddball!! so thanks :]
I (very recently) received the results of my diagnosis for autism and adhd (I got both, and a couple other smaller things) and was wondering what things you did differently immediately after diagnosis that helped you? I've tried things like proper organisation and cleaning, keeping on top of deadlines for college as much as I am able, and trying to study as much as I can (a levels are very stressful even though I've only just started the course, and while these solutions are what's considered "good" by the college, its not really helping me as much as I would like)
a large part of the diagnosis was dedicated to brain function (I had the privelidge of being assessed privately, so the evidence was very detailed and thorough), and I scored stupidly high on vocabulary and language study. However, I feel like there's somewhat of a disconnect between the effort I've put in on my foreign language studies and the progress I'm seeing- I'm trying so so hard to understand grammatical concepts and absorb a lot of vocabulary in preparation for some smaller tests in the near future, but I'm not seeing the reward during lessons or even with preparation. I am fully aware that with all the work and effort I'm spending, I am closer than I would like to be to a meltdown and probably burnout, which I desperately want to avoid. It just feels that although my brain is wired for linguistic study, I feel like I'm falling behind or failing
I guess if you have any advice or anything that helped you once your diagnosis was confirmed, or tips for study, I would be greatly appreciative :]
Tldr: struggling with study and fearful of failure, any advice?
hnng I remember the stress of A levels, you couldn't pay me to go through that again 🫠
After being diagnosed I started to allow myself to unmask and stim in more obvious ways. Previously my stims had generally been pretty small, like flicking my fingers or wiggling a bit, but now I allow myself to flap and rock and play with fidget toys as well and it genuinely does help release tension.
It sounds like your're working really hard - if you feel close to burnout and/or meltdowns, you might be working too hard. I also found it really hard to take breaks when I was studying (...still do) but the truth is, by not allowing your mind to rest, you're actually making it harder for yourself to learn and retain information.
So my advice is, take a break! A real break, not 'I'm gonna scroll on my phone for a bit' or 'I went to the toilet that counts as a break right'. Get up, step away from your work for at least an hour, and do something you find relaxing and fun. Go for a walk or just sit outside. Make yourself a drink. Take a nap if you need to. Try to avoid looking at screens during your break if you can. And when you go back to studying, schedule times to have regular short breaks as well (eg a 10 minute break every hour). I set alarms for mine because otherwise I forget to move for five hours.
A break allows your brain to process the information and let it settle properly. When you go back to work you'll hopefully feel more refreshed and able to take in information again. Remember, if you've just started the course, then this is a marathon, not a sprint, so please try not to overdo it and burn yourself out right at the start. Conserve your energy for the long haul.
If you're still struggling, are you able to ask for help, maybe from a friend or a teacher? A teacher could give you some techniques on how to improve in the specific areas you find difficult, and sometimes just talking through the bit you're having trouble with or not understanding can help a lot.
Good luck with your studies and I hope you take some time to rest as well :)
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recent lounging babey images
#he's so floppy recently and I hope it's just the heat. I think wamr weather makes everyone floppy and loungy#a beauntifulle boye...#cats#STILL working on posting some drafts. finishing new poll adventure.. other things... It's just hard with the weather and other things going#on. I've had a few more doctors appointments and other things to do recently that have to be done in a time limit#so I hvae to use my extremely limited energy working on that instead of doing the things I'd really rather do. :T#Main focuses though are keeping up better with doing and posting costumes + sculptures as main creative things. at least finishing the#main poll adventure story. Reworking the game I kind of abandoned for a few years. keeping up with game videos and a few other side things.#Especially the game though. I've been in a really worldbuildy mood recently. I just wish that was easier to manifest into something. I've#now put the worldbuilding slideshow reading video on pause for a while because it's SOOO long to do#and I think I should prioritize making games and stuff instead. but still other things. IT's just kind of like.. I have a whole world and#everything very built and planned out but now.. what do I do with it? what's the best way to share that? factual slideshows just going over#the information like a dictionary? make it into a game? write short stories? do art attached to the world? etc. etc. ?? There are so many#potential avenues I end up kind of flip flopping between them a lot because none really seem more beneficial than the others and they all#seem equally enjoyable and also equally hard so. It's like?? I guess just do what the hell ever and hope I made the right choice in terms o#cost benefit and reward for my time lol. ANYWAY.. Also why I'm in my 'trying to make friends' era still because I think having other creat#ive friends can help you find direction like.. people will meet each other and then go 'hey lol just for fun lets start a project together!#and then like 5 years later it's genuinely become something. etc. having other people to help weed out ideas and start small creative teams#together and etc. I feel is a very beneficial part of networking or whatever but also I have the social capacity of a stale bread roll and#am also inherently unrelatable to seemingly a majority of people due to my hermit wizard swag (detachment from general society and hyper#focus on fantasy worlds in my head gjhghj) so trying to meet people as a grown adult with social issues is Very easy and fun (it is not)#even very basic things like my core communication style is so incompatible with a lot of people it's like.. hhhh... People in this modern#age have GOT to stop being afraid of phone calls and/or text that is longer than 6 paragraphs. Work with me here. I WANT to talk to you. bu#I do not know what your emojis mean and it's physically impossible for me to type less than 85 sentences. please.. hhjgjgb#AAANYWAY!! I am working on things when I can given the circumstances (SUMMER).. hopefully some costume pictures and stuff soon. :'3#I've not forgotten about my art and etc. - as usual I just am bad at social media and also functioning if it's above 65F lol
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🌻 ₊˚⊹ ࿔ 🌳
#the weather is so lovely today. it’s breezy and cool but the sun is warm so it’s not too cold or too hot out.#i wish it was like this forever.#ive been feeling so tired lately. physically n mentally & idk if its an underlying health issue or bc i haven’t been sleeping super well#the past few days i wake up in the middle of the night but im able to go back to sleep fairly quickly. but i STILL feel exhausted.#im supposed to talk about my lab results w my doc tmrw on the phone so. i hope everything is okay but tbh i wouldn’t be surprised if#something wasn’t optimal. my iron was okay last time i checked it though. sigh i just idefk anymore.#im sick of everything. im irritable for no reason. i don’t wanna do anything. like anything. i just want to rot in my bed#and even my interests are slowly slipping away from me. writing? couldn’t care less if i don’t write anything for the rest of the year tbh.#reading? i couldn’t even care to browse the shelves when we went to the bookstore the other day and it scared the shit out of me#kpop? meh.#i have a massive to do list and uni starts in a month and i have no energy. + dealing with my own brain and nonsensical thoughts on top#of that. overthinking anxiety all that super great stuff.#im also sick of putting in 110% into my relationships and getting half of it back. family friends whoever. and it makes me so sad. +#i feel like nobody even understands me. or even tries to or wants to.#im just tired#sick and tiredddddd#actually a bit sick too my throat hurts#anyways whatever#it’ll be fine i guess#i don’t want to give up but i don’t have any desire to push through im sort of just. floating. ill deal with it when i deal with it#♡ dear diary…
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would love to make a story some day
#Wish my artistic capabilities went beyond characters standing around.#want to be able to do projects. To make things that matter. Even if they’re just like little short stories or something.#but I just don’t feel prepared for it. I never know where to start.#starting anywhere at all might be smart but I just don’t know what to do.#I’ve been creating for so long that it feels weird still sort of being at square one.#maybe it’s because I need to be okay with the things I make just being alright.#I fear making anything special because I know it won’t be a huge wonder. It won’t be groundbreaking.#I guess I just hope that if I put all this energy into making something bigger than I’m used to. That maybe something will come from it.#maybe it will be something good. Rather than. Just kind of okay.#chitter chatter
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My mother is all into homesteading and off-grid living videos right now. Every time I check up on her, this is what she wants to talk about.
It gives her a sense of peace and purpose I guess. Which is good, she’s been struggling to find that with her injuries and condition. She’s learning skills, and feeling prepared for “the worst”. Like I can’t get her to stop watching conspiracy theory bullshit on YouTube so at least this kind of content alleviates some of the anxiety the other content amplifies, because she feels like she can do something now to secure her safety later.
But to get through these conversations, I have to tell myself— hey, if natural disaster comes our way, some of this might be useful. But I know she’s not just thinking a big storm or natural disaster. She’s preparing for the collapse of society. And I don’t know how to break it to her that we wouldn’t survive that. You can make long lasting candles with crisco? Cool. Where you going to by crisco when society collapses? You’ll stock up now? Ok cool. What will you do when it runs out? Honestly, before it runs out, what will you do when people with guns come to take your various stockpiled supplies?
If we hit a point where society collapses, we’re done for. Food, medicine, etc. we can’t survive without society, without a world where people are working together trying to help each other out.
So, I’ll go through with this shit in the name of natural disaster preparedness, and because it helps her. But that’s as far as I’m willing to put energy into it. I refuse to prepare for, bet on, or hope for the collapse of society. I’d rather spend my energy trying to prevent society collapsing, what little part I can play in that. I’d rather spend my energy supporting people in my community. I’d rather work and build towards a better future, not prepare for the worst.
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Happy holidays / Yule / upcoming traditions. 🖤
#dadbots.txt#its been a rough month so far. not necessarily due to seasonal but overall changes for the better or worst.#While I /did/ managed to recover from my sinuses after 2-3 weeksish. I’m just not doing well still and it’s been a fuck of a rollercoaster.#I’m so tired. again. Just not a great end to this year. But hey - you win some you lose some. And other days to try again#Many adaptations been made but it’s not really repairing anything. Just kinda a bandaid on it and hope the wound heals if that make sense.#& made such a dumb move. But with so many people telling me to wait it out and said thing would change ended up being the exact same.#And I feel stupid for it. I knew better and yet — same thing. Which fuckin blows but okay. Whatever. At least I can’t lie and said I didn’t#- try at all yknow. I mean I did. It’s something. So guess we’re moving on from that experience. And that’s that#My progress is fluctuating like hell and back this year. I expected much and need to figure out what needs to go & needs to stay in my life#- Almost similar to spring cleaning. Whatever goes goes and whatever stays. Well. Stays if it benefits me or improve somehow#Hopefully it’d solve some of the negativity and awful energy going on. Some areas aren’t as easy or possible for personal reasons.#- but sometimes you gotta put your foot down and just do it. Whether that’s one step at a time or one big 360 and hope all goes well.#I need to be more persistent in my life concerning certain things. And others where I just need to learn to let go. Ignore it. Gone.#There’s just so much I need to do. From getting back on track. Working on things I’ve put off for years now. Adapting and improving.#- balance. Control. List could go on and on. But I did what I could this year. A lot of improvement. And while it kinda went down the draib#- after slipping into old habits again - at least I know I could improve in some way. I did it before. It /did/ work b4 longterm episodes#- and that’s worth a lot. Considering it’s something I talked about but couldn’t do at that time. Or just never did.#An accomplishment I had for this year. Now to see what else I can work on.
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji can’t get his deserved rest due to his baby boy keeping him awake.
wc. 707
tags. dad!toji x female reader. nothing else to add; just pure fluff.
“he’s kickin’ me again,” toji complains with a deep sigh. tiny feet keep patting his back, not allowing the man to sleep at all. the culprit is none other than megumi—his beloved, yet bratty, son.
the little boy lays between you and your husband. you figured that this was best since megumi kept wailing each time you put him back in his crib.
you chuckle at toji’s groans of annoyance. your son is still full of energy, even if it’s already super late at night. your hand brushes against megumi’s chubby cheek and you can’t help but squeeze it lightly.
that action gains you a high-pitched squeak. you sigh and keep your child occupied with the movement of your finger against his face, “it’s his way of asking for attention, honey.”
toji grumbles something under his breath and scoots away from the both of you. megumi’s head turns towards his dad, his attention caught by the rustling of the sheets. you raise an eyebrow in response to toji putting distance between you both.
“papa’s mean,” you huff, talking to your baby. you can’t see toji’s face since his broad back is obstructing the view, though you can easily guess that he’s frowning.
maybe even secretly sulking about the lack of sleep. you do understand, however. he’s worked hard all day to provide for both megumi and you.
“papa,” megumi speaks up with an adorable pout on his lips. he crawls over to toji before you can stop him. the little boy taps at toji’s back again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
megumi’s need for attention and affection from his father is heartwarming to see. you reach out towards your son in hopes of picking him back up. toji needs his rest after all.
a deep sigh escapes toji’s lips. not one of frustration this time, but rather one of defeat. he opens his eyes and turns around to face megumi. the man’s stoic face softens the moment he sees those cute doe eyes staring up at him.
“c’mere,” toji grumbles and lifts his child’s tiny body up without any effort. megumi giggles instantly and reaches his hands out to hold his dad’s face. your husband playfully bites your son’s tiny fingers instead, “not gonna allow y’r dad to sleep, huh? tsk tsk.”
you watch the scene unfold with a tender smile. toji lowers his head and starts blowing raspberries against megumi’s tummy. the baby squeals and giggles uncontrollably, writhing around in toji’s embrace.
“this is what ya get for being a brat,” toji mumbles and switches to leaving kisses along the little boy’s belly. that makes megumi laugh as well due to the ticklishness.
toji grins. his earlier drowsiness and annoyance have vanished into thin air. he can’t possibly stay mad at his son. not after seeing megumi happy. and especially not after seeing your content smile too.
“mama! mama!” megumi laughs between cries of help. his tiny hand reaches out to you whilst toji continues the little attack on his tummy. you chuckle and decide to intervene.
you scoot over to the other side and shield megumi’s tiny body from your husband’s tickles. you frown and playfully scold him, “stay away from my baby, you big bad guy.”
toji raises an eyebrow in amusement. he bites back a laugh before cocking his head to the side, that familiar smug expression appearing on his face.
“oh yeah? ‘m the bad guy now, eh?” the dark-haired man rolls his eyes. he towers over both you and your son - who’s giggling and still holding tightly onto you, “all right. i’ll show you just how bad i can be then.”
your eyes widen the moment you feel toji’s fingers land underneath your shirt, touching your bare skin. not a second passes by and he’s already tickling you. his other hand reaches for megumi’s tummy again—now making the both of you squirm and giggle loudly.
the happy sounds echo throughout the room. perhaps even loud enough for your neighbours to hear at four in the morning. but, you don’t care about any possible noise complaints. not during this cozy family moment.
plus toji’s fond smile as he continues torturing you and your son is definitely worth all of it.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x you#toji x y/n
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🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc�� I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k
🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)
Prologue
It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.
You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.
After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.
“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”
Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.
“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”
You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck.
You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.
Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.
An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.
You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’
Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further.
“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”
You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.
However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf - is a pretty common tattoo.
“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?”
This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.
You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.
When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.
The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.
You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”
“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”
You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.
You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.
There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters.
When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head.
One:
“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.
“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”
“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”
“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”
“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”
“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.
The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.
It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.
There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”
“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”
“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”
“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams.
“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.
“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.
“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?”
You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.
“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.
“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”
“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs.
“So is this tattoo consult for you?”
Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.”
“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”
“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos.
“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”
Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.
“That’s me,” your best friend beams.
“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.
He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks.
Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into.
You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.
You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.
Two:
You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.
You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard.
The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.
“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.
It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.
While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”
Must have grazed him… with a knife?
“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.
“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.
“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.
“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.
The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”
He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”
You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.
Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.
It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.
“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.
“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk.
The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.
You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”
“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.
“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”
“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”
“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.
“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”
Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”
Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.
“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”
“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.
“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”
You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.
“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.
“Not drinking?”
“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you.
Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”
“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.
“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.
You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.
“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.
“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses.
“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition.
Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion.
“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.
“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.
You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.
The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.
“Who was that?!” one asks.
“He was hot!” another friend notes.
“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”
“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”
“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”
“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”
“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.
“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”
“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.
“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”
“What?!”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.
“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.
“Yeah.”
You sit back, thinking about it.
Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.
You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.
Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence.
Three:
You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.
You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.
Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”
“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”
You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”
“Yeah, you.”
“Hi, Seungcheol.”
“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”
“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”
“I just didn’t,” he says simply.
“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.
“One sec.”
You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.
You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”
“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.
“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.
Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.
“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”
Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response.
“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”
“Oh… are you at work now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.
“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”
“You should just go home after work.”
“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.
Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”
“See you in an hour.”
You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”
“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”
Four:
You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.
Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car.
“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”
“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.
You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.
“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh, is that a problem?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”
Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.
You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.
“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”
“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.
You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.
Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.
“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.”
“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.
“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.
“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze.
“What about me?” he counters.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”
“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder.
Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.
“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.
“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.
“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.
“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”
This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.
“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”
“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”
And just like that, he’s closing up again.
You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound.
“All done,” you announce.
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”
“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”
So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.
It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.
You just want to figure him out.
“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia.
“No.”
“Are you scared?”
“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.
“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”
You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways.
“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”
He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.
“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.
Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on.
You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat.
Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”
You nod.
He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about?
You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-
You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.
You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.
You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.
You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.
“How was it?” he asks.
“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.
Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”
You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.
“You good?”
“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”
You nod. “Fuck that guy.”
Five:
You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.
“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”
There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.
You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.
It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table.
You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.
The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get.
You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate.
Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.
Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?
Are you ready for a new relationship?
You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-
Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.
But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?
Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?
The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.
Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.
Six:
“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.
“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”
“Is that good or bad?”
You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”
“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”
You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”
Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”
Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday.
“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.
You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.
Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.
“Doing okay.”
“And your shoulder?”
“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”
“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.
“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.
Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.
“We could do that,” you respond.
“Sounds good, when are you free?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about eight o’clock?”
“That works,” you nod.
“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”
You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”
“It’s a date. See you then.”
“Bye, Cheol.”
Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.”
“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.
“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”
“That’s a good sign,” you insist.
“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”
Seven:
You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.
He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”
You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”
“Me too.”
Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.
“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”
You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.
“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.
“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.
You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?”
“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”
“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”
“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”
“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”
“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”
You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?”
Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”
“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”
“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”
“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.”
“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”
You nod. “A hundred percent.”
“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.
“I thought so.”
“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”
It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.
It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.
Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.
Eight:
Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head.
He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.
Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.
He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker.
It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.
“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.
“Just thinking.”
“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s.
Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways.
“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”
Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.
“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.
“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder.
As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”
He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”
Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”
“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”
“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”
He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”
“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”
He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person.
“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”
“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell.
“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”
“I will, bye, Cheol.”
Nine:
You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.
You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.
“It’s been a while,” your ex states.
You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.
You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.
“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic.
“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”
Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.
Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”
“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.
“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”
He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.
“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”
You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex.
“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”
It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I-”
Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.
“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-
“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”
“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”
“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”
Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.
“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”
She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.
Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”
You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”
“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug.
You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.
“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.
“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.
“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.
You nod, pointing to your forearm.
“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”
You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.
“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.
Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”
“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.
“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”
Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-
“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”
Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.
“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.
“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.
“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”
“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.
“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.
“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”
“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”
You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”
You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.
As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.
Ten:
“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”
“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.
“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes.
“Are you sure?”
“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.
“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.
“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.
In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”
Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.
“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.
“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.
“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.
You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.
He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.
You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up.
You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently.
The bike roars to life and you take off.
It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky.
You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time.
You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.
He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.
“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.
You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.
Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.
Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.
You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”
“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you.
“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”
“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.”
You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table.
“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.
“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.
It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal-
It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”
You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.
Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.
With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.
It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss.
Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap.
You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides.
After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily.
“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.
He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”
“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”
You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a Leo,” you say again.
“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”
“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything.
You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.
“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.
“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.
“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”
“And they said Leo,” he breathes.
You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”
“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.
“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”
“She really said that?” you ask.
“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”
Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.
Even so, something about this feels so right.
You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”
“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.
“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.
Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.
You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.
Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.
With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”
“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.”
“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.
You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”
He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”
“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.
Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.
You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.
You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.
You want this.
You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm.
Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”
“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”
He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”
Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”
“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”
He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”
You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”
“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”
Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.
“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.
“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.
“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”
Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.
He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.
He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.
“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.
You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue.
“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”
You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.
“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.
When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.
You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.
“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”
You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.
“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”
Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation.
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”
You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”
His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”
You grin, returning to your task.
Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be.
“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”
“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.
“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.
Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.
The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.
“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.
You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.
“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.
“Yeah?”
“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”
“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.
Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.
But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.
Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.
Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.
He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.
The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.
“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”
Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.
You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps.
You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.
Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.
With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.
Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”
“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.
“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly.
“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.
Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.
“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.
“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.
Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.
He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”
Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.
He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.
No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation.
“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.
He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.
You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.
“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”
He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.
“Just like that,” you whimper.
He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.
Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.
You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.
Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.
Sex should always be like this, you realize.
There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial.
Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.
His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.
Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean.
“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
“More than anything,” you smile.
A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.
You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.
You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.
You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.
You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.
Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.”
“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.
“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.
You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.
The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.
Nothing has ever felt this right.
Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.
His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.
Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.
“Cheol-”
“Yes, baby?” he asks.
“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”
“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”
Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.
Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.
His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.
“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”
It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts.
Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.
When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.
“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.
“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.
Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.
You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.
“Fuck-” you moan.
“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”
“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder.
“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.
“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”
You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.
“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”
“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.
His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”
For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,
“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”
You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”
He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-
“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”
You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.
Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.
You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.
Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.
His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.
You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.
Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”
You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-
“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears.
You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.
Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.
While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.
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Gala Buddies
Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.
So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.
Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.
Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.
At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.
Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.
Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.
“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.
Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.
“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”
“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”
“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.
The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”
Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”
Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”
“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.
“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”
Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.
“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”
“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”
“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”
Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”
Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.
The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.
“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.
Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”
And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.
“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.
“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”
“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#Danny phantom#Sam Manson#duke Thomas#the signal#batfamily#Danny phantom x dc#Sam x duke#I was thinking about ships I don’t see and Sam x Duke came to mind#grumpy x sunshine#ultraviolet#ultraviolet ship
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 5] Food Difficulties
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Warnings: Puking
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Sukuna is practically forcing food down your throat, ensuring that you’re eating and keeping his baby healthy. He’s convinced that you’re expecting twins, but he’s not going to get his hopes up in case that you aren’t. It has to be twins though, the amount of cursed energy that your body transmits is too much for just one baby.
“The food is good, is it not? Finish it.” Sukuna urges you, but you can’t stomach the entire meal. You’re nauseous, the mere smell of the food makes you want to puke. You’ve gotten overly sensitive the past few weeks, eating has become one of the hardest tasks for you.
Sukuna has gone from ignoring you, to coddling you in his own weird way. He’ll get you almost anything you’d like, but he makes sure he’s mean to you when he does it. He won’t show you a weaker side of him– At least that’s what he considers kindness, the weaker side of humans.
“I’m full.” You tell him, but he’s having none of it. He won’t let you leave the room until you eat every last drop of food that’s on your plate. He’s ensuring that you’re growing healthy babies, and that can’t happen if your belly isn’t full of food.
“You have to eat.” He insists, and you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. You can’t even bring yourself to swallow the food that you chew, you want to throw it all up. He sees you gagging, about to puke all the food that he’s forced you to eat. The food can’t be that bad, could it?
He brings the bowl up to his nose, trying to figure out if something is wrong with the meal. Sure, he tasted it to make sure everything was okay with it, but he held his nose to not taste it. Sukuna can’t stand many things, human food being at the top of his list. He can’t stand the taste, the texture, or even the mere smell of it.
He can’t force you to eat the foods he enjoys, so he guesses he’ll put himself through this pain to get you to finish your meal. He takes a mouthful of the food, and forces himself to chew. He gags as he tastes it. He can’t blame you for not wanting to eat it.
“It should be up to your standards.” Sukuna spits out the food onto the floor, not having the will to swallow it. “You have to make a healthy, strong child.”
“If I continue to eat, I’ll throw it all back up.” You warn him, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. He’ll choose his battles wisely. Uraume told him to be more gentle with you and to listen to you more… He guesses he’ll take their advice.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He finally puts down the utensils, and you let out a sigh of relief. You push the plate of food away from you so the smell doesn’t hit your nostrils. You’re more sensitive than you expected. You’ve dealt with pregnant women before, and you knew that they would get nauseous around certain foods, but never quite like this. Perhaps you’re a special case, which wouldn’t be shocking since Sukuna is everything but normal.
“What do you want to do then?” Sukuna crosses his arms, staring you down. The stare that once made a chill run down your spine, no longer has much of an effect on you. It’s been two weeks since you found out that you’re expecting, and you’ve found out that Sukuna won’t dare to lay a finger on you unless it’s to make your life easier.
“I’ve been reading a book.” You tell him, and he raises his brows. What is that supposed to tell him? It seems that forcing you how to read and write has proven to be useful. It entertains you and Sukuna isn’t forced to do some mundane task in order to keep an eye on you. Sure, he misses action and adrenaline from doing his own vile activities, but in your state, he doubts you can handle watching it.
“So what? Are you staying inside and doing that?” He asks, and you nod in response. He almost scolds you, he wants to hear you use your voice, but he decides against it. You do whatever the fuck you want to do, who is he to say otherwise? Your dumb husband. Sukuna will let you do whatever you want, and treat you higher than himself for as long as you carry his heir.
“I can read out loud so you’re not bored.” You say, and he glares at you. You must be trying to make a fool out of him or something. He keeps repeating in his mind that he won’t yell at you. You’re expecting, he won’t distress you.
“You barely know how to read, keep it to yourself.” He snarks, and you hate to admit it but the comment hurts your feelings. You’re used to his attitude, but your kindness being used to mock you hurts. Perhaps you’re a little sensitive, especially since you know Sukuna– He treats you like a fragile petal, a treatment no one else will ever receive from him.
“I wouldn’t like to read to a grump anyway.” You retort, standing up to walk away but Sukuna grabs you and puts you down on his lap. He stares down at you, pure annoyance in his eyes.
“What did I teach you?” Sukuna snarls, and you purse your lips together. You’ve been getting away with a lot, so it shocks you that he reprimands you for something so simple… Perhaps it’s your insult that’s sent him over the edge.
“I follow you after you leave the table, not the other way around.” You murmur, and you hear him scoff. Your response is correct, your delivery doesn’t delight him though.
“You’ve gotten bratty.” He points out, and in response you dare to roll your eyes. You know you hold something massive over his head, therefore he won’t do anything to you no matter your reaction. He lets go of you, nearly pushing you off his lap, “Go away and read your dumb book. I’ll join you soon.”
“Just stay here, what are you going to do there?” You ask, standing up once again to walk away. Sukuna doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to. Sure, you’re his wife but he made it clear that you wouldn’t have any sort of control over him. It was something to make you fulfill your duty.
He hears your footsteps as you exit the room, leaving him alone to sink into his annoyance. Annoyance that a group of people will pay for later. Because his feelings don’t just disappear when he’s by your side, he’s still temperamental; the only change is that you don’t pay for your actions, someone else does.
Sukuna guesses you could be acting worse, so he can’t get too upset with you.
He stands up, and walks out of the room to follow behind you. Soon, he won’t be following you but after a miniature version of himself. His heir. The day could not come sooner. He’ll go back to being able to do whatever he wants, and bringing his heir along to witness his atrocious acts. But for all of that to happen, he must put up with you first.
He picked you for a reason, he can deal with you. Perhaps he’s a little lost on how to get you to eat, but he can deal with the rest.
“Sukuna.” You walk out of your room to find Sukuna leaning against the tatami door. He’s shutting his eyes, for the first time ever you’re watching him fall asleep. In your mind, Sukuna never rests.
When you wake up in the middle of the night, he’s there, watching you sleep. A looming gaze watching over you during the dead of night. A sight so scary that it sends shivers down someone’s spine, bearing them unable to move. A sight that you’ve grown accustomed to.
You shouldn’t bother him when he’s falling asleep. You assume he doesn’t get much rest, so maybe you should leave him alone. You just want to go for a short walk before a stressful dinner. It’s the same scenario every night: you can’t stand the smell of the food so you refuse to eat it, and Sukuna tries to shove it down your throat.
You decide not to bother him, getting on your tip toes to try and sneak out of the place without disturbing his ever-so-rare peace. You just need a moment outside, take in a breath of fresh air and walk while you still can. You’re gaining weight faster than you expected, you doubt that you’ll be able to move freely in the next couple of months.
“Where the fuck are you going?” His hand wraps around your ankle, stopping you from taking another step. You’ve been caught red-handed, and from the tone that you pick up in his voice, he’s not particularly happy about it. He stands up, quickly towering over you.
“I just need a breath of fresh air.” You tell him, hoping that he won’t get too mad. Sukuna made it clear that he must be near you at all times. He’s most worried about his delicate baby, he doesn’t need someone potentially harming him. Him, as if you had any way to know the sex of the baby.
“The sun is setting, you can’t.” He’s firm, you shouldn’t dare challenge his authority. Yet, you pout and cross your arms, hoping to get to him. A foolish trick that would never work on Sukuna.
“I’m tired of being inside.” You comment, making him scoff. You should’ve thought about that hours before, not now. You slightly tilt your head to the side before questioning, “Isn’t this place supposed to be safe?”
“You’re a fool to trust anyone here.” He quickly replies, and you click your tongue. “It’s time for you to eat, let’s go.”
“Please, I’m not hungry.” You respond, though it falls on deaf ears. Sukuna picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder before carrying you to the dining room.
“Uraume! Get dinner ready!” He yells, while you kick your feet so he lets you go. Sukuna wants to laugh. Not a scoff, a genuine laugh. You’re so pathetically weak, yet you try to break free from his grasp by kicking him. You’re probably using all of your strength, but it doesn’t feel like anything to him.
He puts you down on the floor of the dining room, and you frown at him as he takes a seat across from you. You’re acting like a child. You don’t want to eat, you’re refusing anything and everything. Your stomach is too sensitive and you absolutely hate the feeling of regurgitation. You never thought you’d hate a feeling as much as you hate that one. But Sukuna doesn’t take your feelings into consideration, as to be expected.
You refuse to speak to Sukuna as you sit across from Sukuna, waiting for your dinner. Typically you’re trying to keep some sort of conversation going, but you’re not in the mood at this moment. Sukuna isn’t going to say anything about it, he enjoys the peace.
Within minutes, your food is in front of you. But neither of you dare touch the plates. Sukuna watches you like a hawk, waiting for you to make the first move on your food.
“Eat.” He orders, but you dramatically turn your head. You refuse. No one is going to make you eat, not even the brutish monster before you. “I ordered you to eat!”
“No.” You keep your voice calm. You keep up your composure. It’s a simple answer that sends him over the edge. Before you know it, he’s reaching over the table and trying to get your mouth open so he can shove food inside.
Your lips are sealed, refusing to let any food into your mouth. He’s trying to get an opening, but you’re not letting him in. He sees tears well up in your eyes, suddenly becoming sensitive about the situation. He shouldn’t care. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. His heir has to eat.
“Fine!” Sukuna ends up letting go, giving up as a tear streams down your cheek. Before he can even blink, you stand up and run out of the place. Sukuna makes sure to follow behind, only to watch you puking the little food that you had in your stomach.
He rolls his eyes, sighing. He has to find a way for you to eat, and apparently the way he just attempted isn’t the right way. Whichever way it is, he has to figure it out soon.
#[bonds of fruition]#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x y/n#jujutsu sukuna
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Brake Balance
Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader
Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser
Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder
You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.
You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.
There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.
“Guess who?” You say playfully.
Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”
You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”
“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”
His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.
“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.
Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”
You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.
Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.
The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.
“Be safe out there,” you say softly.
He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.
“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.
You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.
The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.
“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.
Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.
“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.
“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.
The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”
Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”
“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.
“Around 100 degrees.”
You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.
“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.
Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.
In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.
Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.
Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.
While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.
Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.
With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.
***
The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”
“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”
You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.
“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”
Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”
“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”
“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”
You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”
“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.
A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.
“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.
“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”
He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.
“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”
Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.
“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”
He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.
“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”
You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”
Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”
You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.
“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”
Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.
Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.
***
After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.
The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.
“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”
You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”
You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.
“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.
“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”
His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.
“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”
As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.
“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”
You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”
Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.
“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”
Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”
Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”
You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.
“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”
He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.
“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”
You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”
Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.
“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”
He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”
In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.
“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”
Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.
“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”
Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.
“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.
You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …
“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”
You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”
He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”
You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.
“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”
The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”
In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.
“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”
Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.
“It was ...”
He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.
“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.
“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.
“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”
Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.
“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”
The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.
Or so he thinks.
Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.
Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.
For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.
Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.
Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.
Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.
And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.
By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.
For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.
Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.
Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.
With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.
***
Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.
Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.
You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.
Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.
“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.
Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”
You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”
Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”
You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”
Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”
Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”
Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.
You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.
Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.
“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.
In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.
The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.
The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.
“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.
“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”
You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.
Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”
You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.
“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”
You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.
You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.
But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.
So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.
He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.
So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.
Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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Diet Diaries
Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam
Monday March 21st-
Andy:
I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~
Steve:
Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.
Tuesday March 22nd-
Andy:
My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.
Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~
Steve:
Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.
Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.
Wednesday March 23rd-
Andrew:
Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!
Steven:
That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.
Thursday March 24th-
Andrew:
Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!
OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!
Steven:
God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.
It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.
Friday March 25th-
Steven:
Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.
I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..
Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~
Andrew:
Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.
Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)
Saturday March 26th-
Stevie:
Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-
Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!
I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-
And Drew:
Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.
Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.
Sunday March 27th-
Stevie:
Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~
Drew:
My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.
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