#stupid questions... (and the stupid men who ask them)

[queenshelby]

Paper Bride (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby (40) x Fem!Reader (20)

Warning: Arranged Marriage

Chapter One: The Price of Daughters

You always knew your family wasn’t clean.

You were young when you first overheard the words ‘opium’ and ‘shipment’ whispered through the slats of a wooden door. Young enough that you didn’t know what they meant. Old enough to know you weren’t supposed to hear them. Old enough to understand that your father’s wealth didn’t come from his olive groves or textile mills. That the men who came to dinner didn’t talk like businessmen. That the gifts — silks, jewels, perfumes from Shanghai — always arrived with a quiet nod and a heavy briefcase.

You weren’t stupid.

Your father never laid a hand on you. Not once. But power has its own kind of violence, and you learned quickly how silence could be a blade. How absence could bruise deeper than fists.

Still, in his own way, he protected you. He kept the worst of it behind doors, behind words in languages you weren’t supposed to understand. He smiled at you across the breakfast table and told you you’d go to Paris one day, to study art, just like your mother wanted. He let you pretend. Let you believe there was still time to choose your life.

But then he was shot.

And the illusion — of freedom, of safety, of Paris — shattered like porcelain on the marble floor.

Your mother tried, God bless her. She held you and your younger siblings close that first week and whispered that everything would be all right. But whatever power she once had vanished with the bloodstained coat she took from the hospital to remember him by.

Widows in your family didn’t run empires. Your uncles did. The oldest of whom was a man of appetites, not ideals. He liked his brandy dark and his women young. He didn’t much like being told no. And he saw you, barely twenty and grieving, as a loose thread to be tied up — or cut clean. You were a business opportunity for him and heard the words ‘marriage’ for the first time two months after your father’s funeral. Not from your mother, not even from your uncle, but from a servant girl in the hallway.

The name ‘Thomas Shelby’ drifted to you like smoke — never spoken to you, only around you. First from the maids, whispering like children telling ghost stories. Then from your cousin in the courtyard, voice low and urgent when she thought you weren’t listening.

“He’s dangerous. A politician now, they say. Fought in the war. Killed men with his own hands. He runs things. Big things. And he’s not that old — maybe forty. Still, that’s twenty years older than her,” he told one of your siblings and that is when you knew for certain that your life was about to change. You were the oldest in the family and your father was gone and could no longer protect you.

You didn’t ask questions — not because you were obedient, but because you knew the answers wouldn’t matter. In your family, daughters were never asked. Only offered.

What you did piece together, in fragments and silence, was this: the trade route was shifting. British involvement in the East was getting messier. Deals needed new faces. Someone powerful. Untouchable. Someone whose men carried legal badges and illegal weapons. Someone whose family name opened ports and closed investigations.

Someone like Thomas Shelby who, according to rumours, was a man high up in the British underworld. A Member of Parliament as well as a gangster.

Who else would your uncle shake hands with and then seal it with a bride?

Because that was the condition, wasn’t it?

Your family only traded with family. It was tradition. It was how your mother ended up with your father and it was how your cousin ended up with one of Al Capone’s family members too.

A paper contract could be burned. A shipment intercepted. But a marriage — a marriage bred blood. It tied fortunes together and now it would tie you to him, a man you heard so many gruesome stories about.

---

You first encountered him two weeks after you first heard the rumours, in your mother’s sitting room.

The air was thick with tension and cigar smoke, the lace curtains drawn against the glare of the afternoon sun. Your uncle sat like a king in your father’s old chair, a half-empty glass of dark liquor resting on the armrest. Two of his men stood by the door, not speaking, but watching. Always watching.

Your mother stood near the window, stiff as a statue, lips pressed into a thin line. You hadn’t seen her this pale since the day of the funeral.

And then he entered. Thomas Shelby. Your future husband.

He didn’t stride in like a man eager to impress. He walked in like the room already belonged to him. A fitted charcoal suit, dark tie, long overcoat draped over his shoulders despite the heat. His gloves stayed on. His eyes — sharp and unreadable — swept the room once, then landed on you.

“Is that her?” he asked, his gaze shifting towards your uncle who nodded, smiling like a man who had just laid his winning card.

“Yes,” he confirmed, but Thomas Shelby did not look impressed.

“How old is she?” he asked, gaze still fixed on your face.

“Twenty,” your uncle answered before anyone else could speak and Thomas tilted his head slightly, brows drawn.

“She looks younger,” he observed, displeasure evident on his face.

Your mother stepped forward then, voice taut. “She is of age. And educated. And well raised,” she told him, but Thomas Shelby didn’t respond to her and turned to your uncle again.

“I’d prefer someone older,” he said, which wiped the smile off your uncle’s face.

“Older?” he echoed. “Most men we deal with in your position would have preferred someone younger.”

Thomas’s eyes darkened.

“I’m not most men,” he said coldly. “And I’m not looking for a fucking plaything. I want someone who understands what’s at stake.”

The room froze. Even your uncle’s men seemed to shift uncomfortably.

But your uncle recovered quickly, ever the dealer. “Then you’ll take her. Because she’s the only one we’ve got who’s old enough, and blood enough, to make this binding. We don’t trade outside the family. You know how it works.”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked to you again — not unkind, but sharp. Like a man measuring risk.

A long silence settled between them before he finally spoke again.

“Have the papers sent to Birmingham,” he said before he turned and left without another word.

And just like that, it was done.

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[messylxve]

STUPID CHOICES──SUPERMAN!

2025!superman x reader 1.6k hurt/comfort

!mildest spoilers for superman (2025)!

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You knew this was dumb. You knew there were probably smarter ways to execute this, and you knew that if this blew up in your face the first question that would be asked was “Why were you there in the first place”

But who could deny a good source? Especially one coming from Jimmy Olsen himself, the man pulling the most random yet genius sources from seemingly nowhere. 

It started simple, Jimmy approaching your desk with some rumor of an underground illegal metahuman trafficking ring. You could hardly believe your ears. But of course with the way your thread of life loved to unravel, you were now with Jimmy in the darkness of night tracking down a dangerous and possibly fictional lead. 

The things you did for good press.

You weren’t even sure you had ever been on this side of town. It was cold and wet as if it recently rained and every few blocks the two of you—well Jimmy—would attract the attention of a few streetworkers, beckoning the pair of you to accompany them. 

You squeezed your jacket tighter around you and pushed closer to Jimmy. “Tell me again why we didn’t get some kind of protection detail.” 

“Like you said before, it would take too long to get the clearance for that. Plus we’re only going in and getting some pictures enough for evidence.” 

His breath was visible on the chilled air as he puffed out an anxious sigh, looking down at his phone. “Right around here, we're not too far.” 

You followed him, step in step with Jimmy before casting the clouded night sky a glance, praying Superman was hovering nearby. What felt like such a good idea before left that thick tar of regret clinging to your insides. 

It didn’t take long to find destination: a large warehouse with a  beat up sign near the entrance reading PROPERTY OF LUTHORCORPS, UNAUTHORIZED ENTRANCE PROHIBITED. 

“LuthorCorps,” you whispered, nudging Jimmy and snapping a picture of it. “You don’t think…”

“Who knows what billionaires do with their money. Never anything good.” He leaned over your shoulder, inspecting the photo for all its details. 

“C’mon,” he beckoned you to follow through the cracked open door. “I hear someone inside.” 

Your heart pounded fast as the two of you slid through the door and immediately ducked behind a set of crates, giving you a view into a warehouse full of trucks and vans. Your jaw fell open at the sight, seeing exactly what Jimmy told you. 

Some cried, some only hung their heads as they were shoved from one car to the next. Each one of them though, no matter how different they looked from each other, shared the same expression of fear in their eyes. 

A tremble was found in your hand as you brought your phone up to snap more pictures. 

“How long has this been happening?” 

Jimmy shook his head, “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’d only just heard about it.” 

Your frown deepened as you pocketed your phone. “C’mon. We have our pictures, now call the cops, we need to go.” 

He nodded wordlessly, taking a hunched position to sneak back to the door. But just as the two of you thought you were in the clear, the deafening noise of a metal instrument being knocked down froze the two of you in your tracks. 

All eyes were now on you as you pushed Jimmy to run, no longer caring of discreetness. 

“Stop them!” 

One moment you were a foot from the door, from safety. The next you were suspended in the air, frozen in space and unable to move. Your body was no longer your own as you and Jimmy were being turned around. 

Standing before you were two men dressed in military grade weaponry with a girl in the center. There were many things to notice about her, how her skin seemed to shine iridescently under the fluorescent lights or how her eyes lacked any sclera, every inch of it pitch black. No, what you noticed was how small she was. She only looked about 16 in human years with such regret and fear in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. “My brother…” 

The guard pushed in front of her, inspecting the two of you as you hung midair. “Daily Planet,” he snarled. “Tie ‘em up! We’re gonna have fun with these two.” 

In an instant, you and Jimmy were dropped to the ground, barely given a chance to recover as you were pulled from the ground and shoved into a chair, back to back with Jimmy.

“This one’s pretty,” he chuckled, nudging your face to the side with the butt of his gun. “What’re we doing with ‘em? Sending them with the others, handing them over to the boss…”  

The other one crossed in front of Jimmy, his face devoid of any tells or give away as he thought with no remorse. “They’re not worth the space…or boss’ time. Just get rid of them, then anything they have on their phones.” 

It wasn’t the first time you stared down the barrel of a gun, fear rushing through your veins as you locked eyes with death again. You could only wonder if you were this prepared for the reaper’s scythe when he swung the first time. 

You awaited it, your eyes only shutting tight at the very last minute when you heard the explosion of your taker. 

But just like before, death never followed through. Only haunting you close. 

You felt the deja vu flooding over you when your eyes opened to see the red cape and s-shaped symbol of hope standing your shield. 

It was as if the light flooded the room as he seized the gun, bending it out of shape and letting it clatter to the ground. He moved faster than you could watch, one moment two men on each of you and Jimmy’s side, the next tied in the corner unconscious but alive. 

Finally, he turned to you, his breath sharp and his face tight, restrained. Angry. “What are you doing here?” 

Night went on long. It felt like years had passed you by when you watched the final ambulance cart away the last of the group of metahumans. 

“Crazy this is the second time you caught a bullet for me,” you laughed lifelessly. 

Looking at him, though, you saw no trace of his smile or the warmth in his blue eyes. 

“Will he be okay,” Superman asked, nodding to Jimmy who talked at the speed of light to the officer you’d just finished with. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, hugging your jacket tighter around you. “I think he managed to convince the officer to give him a ride home.” 

“Good,” he sniffed. “‘Cause I’m taking you home.” 

He didn’t give you much room or time to protest before you were scooped up in his arms and abandoned his place on the ground. 

“Oh my god,” you shrieked, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you held on impossibly tight. 

You felt the wind blow around you widely, whipping your clothes back in the breeze to remind you of the sheer speed you were moving at. 

And then as if it never happened, all air moved normally as your feet were returned to the ground of your concrete balcony. 

When you opened your eyes you faced the usual coolheaded man staring at you with gritted teeth. 

“What the fuck,” you started angrily. “You can’t jus–,” 

“You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do after you acted so stupidly tonight.” 

You blinked. “...excuse me?”

“You walked right into a trafficking ring! No regard for your life or what could possibly happen to you. So yes, what you did was pretty darn stupid.” 

You’d never heard him raise his voice. Never like this. You saw something new in his eyes. Rage, anger, and something else you were too impulsive to see. 

You were stubborn. It was your flaw. Your dying hill. 

“We were chasing a story.” 

“You were risking your life,” he cut. 

“We saved at least a dozen people!”

“You could’ve died,” he screamed, his feet lifting from the ground as his anger acted first. 

His breathing was tight, shallow as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground, gentle steps taken towards you. 

“Why can’t you understand,” he whispered, the silence settling thick between each pause he took. “I can’t lose you…you mean too much to me.” 

10 words. That’s all it took to unravel your heat, anger, your stubbornness. Ten words. You saw it in his eyes now, no more rage. Just fear. Pure unadulterated fear. 

Words failed you, nothing summoned to the fronts of your mind to reassure him. So You stepped forward and threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

Your cheek pressed against his, and his warmth enveloped you, held you tightly. His arms were slack at first, but you soon felt his arms wrap around your waist and hold you too. 

The silence lingered sweetly, a gentle touch to the moment you shared until he finally spoke first. 

“I’m sorry. For calling you stupid.” 

You were quick to shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I deserved it.” 

More silence. He held you still, never parting as the two of you breathed each other in. 

Your final words were just a whisper of everything you wished to speak to him. “I’m sorry too.”

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tysm for the love, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I forgot to tag you

kisses to anyone who likes and reblogs!! <3

credit to @enchanthings for divider

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[diamond-rozie]

another snipbit from my fic [dcxdp]

“Dan thinks I should see Frostbite, which is… ugh.”

“Whose Frostbite?” Bruce asked.

Danny didn’t seem like he wanted to answer but did anyway. “He’s the chief of one of the yeti villages in the Far South. Great guy, super chill.”

“A what?” Clark blurted from the other end of the room where he still stood, “Sorry.” He added immediately, “Continue.”

“I’m pretty sure your pretending to not listen is worse than if you were just a part of the conversation.” Danny said teasingly. “But, yeah, a yeti.”

“And why did Dan say you should see him?” Dick asked again.

“Who knows why he does anything?” Danny grumbled. Danny doesn’t make it obvious, but after many years of dealing with tight-lipped younger brothers, Dick knew there was a clear answer that Danny didn’t want to say.

There was a stretch of silence that Clark ended by asking in a low conspiratory whisper, “Is he your ex?”

“What?” Danny exclaimed, affronted, “No!” He gaped at the apparently insidious question.

“Sorry, are you guys still together?”

“No.” Danny said, disgusted, “No.”

“Then—” Clark tried again.

“He’s my doctor.” Danny finally admitted it, like it was a war crime he’d spent a lifetime hiding. He seemed to realize belatedly that he’d cracked under the pressure and grumbled curses to himself.

“You have a yeti doctor?” Dick asked.

With a deep sigh, Danny deflated onto his knees. “Yeah,” he admitted, dejected.

“We should go visit him now.” Bruce decided with a finality.

Incredulous, “Now?” Danny questioned.

“Do you need to make an appointment?” He considered.

Danny’s eyes widened with realization as if the idea was only then occurring to him. “Yeah.” He nodded.

“Bullshit.” Dick called immediately.

“Well, he’s a really busy guy. You can’t just drop by. Plus we have to, y’know, pay him.”

“Money isn’t an issue.” Bruce crossed his arms.

Danny rolled his eyes. “You can’t pay a yeti with money.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Then what do you have to pay them with?” Clark asked.

“Space ice.” Danny decided.

Both men nodded, as if it made complete sense. “He’s obviously lying.” Dick explained.

Bruce looked at Dick as if he’d grown a second head, then turned to Danny. “Are you lying?” He asked.

“No.” Danny shook his head, with wide innocent eyes.

Dick turned to Clark, hoping at least he could back him up. “He has a really weird heartbeat.” Was all the man could offer, not as apologetic as he should be.

Danny turned to Dick, with his wide blue-gray puppy eyes, “Do you really think I would be so irresponsible and lie about my own health?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

Dick could only gape at the manipulative teenager that sat in between the three of them. Bruce looked at Dick sharply, seemingly completely oblivious to yet another one of his lying cohort of children lying to him. “Fine, we’ll get you that stupid space ice.” Dick conceded with a huff, only because of the guilt those eyes pricked in his stomach.

“Besides, even if we didn’t need the space ice—which we totally do—I don’t have enough energy to teleport to the Ghost Zone right now.”

“You can teleport?” Clark asked, surprised. Dick and Bruce already knew about this.

“To places I’ve been before.” Danny nodded.

“What’s the Ghost Zone?”

“It’s a region in the Realms that’s the easiest to access from Earth. And also where most of the ghosts live.”

“If it’s a specific location, then we could reconfigure the Zeta Tubes to take us there.” Bruce considered.

“Wow, that sounds really convenient.” Danny nodded, wishfully. “I’d probably go to the Zone all the time if I had one of those.”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“It might take me a while to get the space ice.” Clark said, “They melt if I fly too fast. And Jon has a school thing tomorrow, and I was going to try and take Kara into the city the day after. We’ve been working on her being-human skills. But I’ll try to get it as soon as I can.” He promised Bruce.

“No rush.” Danny assured.

[reissancesstuff]

Can I request something with Bonten Mikey and his wife that was his childhood love and Sanzu is her brother and the others didn't know so they thought she was cheating and they try and tell mikey and Rin just blurts it out and now eveyone is scared. 😭

"you're gonna wanna sit down for this."

bonten mikey x fem!reader | crack + fluff + misunderstandings

📩 —request always open!

you should’ve seen this coming.

to be fair, it’s not your fault that you and your brother tend to look... suspiciously close when you’re together. affectionate. loud. chaotic. maybe a little too comfortable.

it’s also not your fault that your husband's coworkers—tokyo’s most feared criminals, mind you—have the emotional intelligence of a brick wall and the tendency to jump to conclusions like olympic athletes.

especially when it comes to you.

especially when it involves mikey.

today, you’d stopped by bonten hq to bring your brother lunch. harmless. normal. nothing serious. except, of course, sanzu greeted you with a dramatic, “aw, baby sis, you missed me already?” and hugged you.

not a side hug. a full-bodied, arms-wrapped-around-you, chin-on-your-shoulder hug.

and unfortunately, that’s the exact moment koko walked into the room.

...

"guys, we need to tell mikey."

rindou blinks. “tell him what?”

“his wife,” koko says darkly. “is cheating.”

cue dramatic gasp from mochizuki.

ran squints. “wait, the pretty one who brought cupcakes last week?”

“yes.”

“the one who tied my tie for me when i couldn’t get it right?”

“yes.”

“...she’s cheating?”

“with sanzu.”

dead silence.

“what the actual—” mochi starts, but koko cuts him off.

“i saw them hugging. she called him ‘baby.’ and he said he missed her.”

“sanzu says that to me and i’m not even into men,” rindou mutters.

mochizuki rubs his temples. “so we tell mikey?”

“absolutely not,” ran says. “i like living.”

but rindou already looks deep in thought, probably imagining a world where mikey goes off the rails. again.

“he deserves to know.”

“you deserve to shut up,” koko hisses.

“guys, he’s literally walking over here—”

“what’s going on?”

mikey’s voice cuts clean through the room, quiet but sharp.

everyone freezes. literally no one wants to be the one to say it. they all look at each other, telepathically pushing the responsibility onto someone else.

and rindou, bless his stupid, stupid mouth, cracks first.

“YOUR WIFE IS CHEATING WITH SANZU—”

record scratch.

you and sanzu walk in literally at that moment. you’re holding his leftover lunch, sipping from a shared soda can, mid-laugh.

your smile drops.

mikey blinks. “…what.”

you look between the guys and your husband. “...what the hell did you just say?”

ran is already sliding down the wall. koko looks like he’s calculating escape routes. mochizuki’s whispering a prayer.

and then, sanzu—utterly unfazed—just sighs.

“dumbasses,” he mutters. “she’s my sister.”

everyone stops breathing.

mikey tilts his head. “…wait, did they not know?”

“you never told them?!”

“i forgot.”

“YOU FORGOT?”

sanzu shrugs. “i don’t go around telling people my family tree.”

ran slaps a hand over his face. “you two couldn’t have warned us? i’ve been panicking for like, 30 minutes!”

you blink. “you thought i was cheating with haru?”

“you called him baby!!”

“he’s my brother!”

mikey reaches out and gently pulls you to his side. you’re still fuming, half-annoyed, half-shocked that any of them thought you would cheat. on mikey. with sanzu, of all people.

“do you want me to kill them?” mikey asks calmly, like he’s offering to take out the trash.

“no,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “just let them suffer.”

and suffer they do.

for the rest of the week, the rest of bonten avoids both you and sanzu like the plague.

nobody makes eye contact. nobody asks questions. and absolutely nobody hugs you again.

lesson learned.

[redtsundere-writes]

Chapter 43: Let Me Yours

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

More Info.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

10 years ago…

This was the most important day in Higuruma's life. The day he had dreamed of and dreaded for the past five years. For which he sacrificed his youth, entire nights of rest, and the pleasures of life, such as being a husband or a father. All for this moment. Today, the former judge was retiring, and the selection of his successor was beginning.

Six young men, including Higuruma, took their assigned seats in the courtroom, right in front of the wooden ballot box, where members of the commune cast their handwritten votes on small slips of paper bearing their first and last names, a simple but effective method to avoid duplicate votes. The process was transparent, almost ritualistic: any citizen could approach and ask the candidates questions, resolve any doubts, and test them to see if they were worthy of such an important position.

It had been a long and tiring day. Sitting for hours under the gaze of the entire town required not only patience but also mental fortitude. All the candidates were young, exemplary, committed to their community, and well-regarded by their neighbors. There was no clear favorite: anyone could win. The result would not only define a position, but would mark an entire chapter in the commune's history.

The line to vote snaked outside the courthouse, and a dull tension hung in the air. Higuruma, though fatigued, straightened his back as soon as he saw you cross the threshold with your entire family. Something in his eyes lit up, as if, for a moment, all that tiredness would disappear.

"How are you doing, future Judge?" You greeted your friend with a big smile.

"I'm not a judge yet." Higuruma appreciated the compliment, but he also didn't want to get his hopes up. 

"What are you worried about, Higuruma? It's obvious you're going to beat these idiots." Yorozu joined the conversation, leaving her vote for Higuruma in the box.

"Who are you calling 'idiots,' bitch?" One of the chosen ones, Rin, stood up angrily.

"Who else, idiot?" You tried to stop her, but she quickly slipped from your grasp. "Higuruma is way better than all of you combined, it's obvious he's going to win," she sneered in their faces.

"Stop it, Yorozu!" Your father scolded her, but she completely ignored him.

"You're only saying that because Higuruma is naive and stupid enough to defend a vixen like you," Rin said to her face. "When I become a Judge, I swear I'll exile you so you'll stop causing so much trouble."

The commotion caught the attention of those present in the room. Exiling someone was a severe punishment within the commune; it was the perpetual punishment for murderers or rapists. The fact that a candidate for Judge would say that was something serious.

"Apologize now." Your mother pushed her own daughter toward Rin to quickly retract her statement, but Higuruma stepped between them before Yorozu could say anything else.

"Rin, your threat is a direct violation of our code. While it's true that Yorozu has caused issues, nothing in her record is sufficient to classify her as a criminal worthy of exile." Higuruma answered Rin, hiding Yorozu behind him. "Besides, the commune currently has less than 2,000 residents; we're in no position to lose more. So I'd think twice before exiling someone."

"Don't act like a hero now. We know you're only defending her because you're completely in love with her sister." Rin attacked him at his most vulnerable point, which is why Higuruma was being judged more so that he wouldn't become a Judge.

"My emotions toward her sister are insignificant in this case. We all have feelings, and I shouldn't be judged for them. I'm only looking at it from a strategic and ethical standpoint. Yorozu has proven herself a great asset to our community as a hunter; it would be a shame to lose her just because your ego can't handle a few negative words. If you think defending those who deserve a second chance is a bad thing, then you don't deserve the position of Judge."

Silence fell over the court. Rin didn't know how to respond to that, so she just reluctantly sat back down. Higuruma turned to Yorozu.

"Please apologize," Higuruma begged her.

"But-!"

"Please, Yorozu," he asked gently.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Rin."

Seeing how Higuruma had managed to tame the commune's beast, an act no one had believed possible without bloodshed, astonishment spread like wildfire. The crowd, at first silenced by the feat, began to murmur among themselves. Their doubts dissipated. The votes, previously divided, began to shift in his favor with almost unstoppable speed.

That same night, the votes were collected. The courtroom became a sanctuary of expectant silence. The candidates, lined up with apparent serenity, awaited the outgoing Judge and the volunteers who carefully counted each sheet, checking signatures, counting names, ensuring the process was fair. Outside the building, people waited with bated breath. Some sat on the steps, others stood, all waiting for a signal, a voice, a number, something.

Higuruma tried to maintain his composure, but his nerves were eating him up inside. Fortunately, Nanako and Mimiko, always attentive, had brought him a small bag of dried fruit and seeds. As he chewed them slowly, trying to calm the trembling in his hands, he clung to the thought that, whatever happened, he had already left a mark.

Around midnight, Higuruma got up from his seat and walked over to you:

"Can we talk in private?" he asked politely.

Of course, you agreed. There was no hesitation in your voice or in your steps as you followed him. Together, you left the courthouse through the back door, the one that led to the files room a silent and solemn place where all the cases that had ever crossed the walls of the local courthouse were housed.

Higuruma didn't turn on the light. There was no need to. The two could clearly distinguish each other in the dim glow filtering through the small window above one of the tall shelves. The light drew soft contours on their faces and cast long shadows over the narrow aisles of bound papers and ancient seals. Between columns of history and legal promises, their gazes met in a silence more eloquent than any words.

"What's wrong?" you asked, confused.

"My marriage proposal still stands," Higuruma reminded you, firm.

"I already told you I won't let you lose that position, especially when you're so close," you reminded him.

"What if I don't get it?"

"What if you do?" you argued back. "I'm not going to let you do something stupid like that. Being my husband is a meaningless title compared to what you truly deserve. You are Higuruma Hiromi, the just, the defender and protector of our land. You even proved it by defending Yorozu. You were born to be the Judge!”

"Being your husband is no meaningless title!" Higuruma took your hands.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't know. Being your husband would be an honor. I want to have you by my side, make sure you are safe, give you comfort."

"We live in a land infested by curses governed by a timetable; I think you're asking too much." You joked.

"You know what I mean by that." Higuruma sighed.

"I'll be fine, Hiromi. You can give me comfort by being a good Judge," you asked.

"I have the rest of my life to be a Judge." Higuruma guided your hands to his shoulders so you rested them there, then held your waist so you were pressed against his body. "Give this poor man a few minutes to be yours," he whispered in your ear.

"Hiromi..." You stammered in shock at the change in behavior.

Hiromi caressed your waist with her thumbs, reaching the limits of your anatomy. He pressed his forehead against yours, savoring every second you shared together in the darkness. His heart was racing. He hadn't dared to act on his feelings for fear of jeopardizing his position as Judge because of the clear feelings he had for you. So if he didn't do it now, he probably never would.

"I love you..."

"Hiromi, please," you begged, hiding in his chest.

"Just listen to me, I’m begging you." Hiromi hugged you so you wouldn't see his flushed face. "I've loved you from the first moment I met you. You're beautiful, kind, friendly, honest, tender... You're everything I need in this life. You shouldn't reciprocate my feelings, but stay by my side, I beg you," Higuruma whispered to you.

You didn't know what to say. The words simply wouldn't come, trapped between confusion and guilt. You loved Higuruma very much, that was true. You admired his kindness, his steadfastness, the way he always seemed to hold the world in both hands without expecting anything in return. He was an admirable man, but your feelings didn't match his.

With him, you didn't feel that vertigo in your chest, or the nervous tickling on your skin, or the butterflies you'd been told so many times indicated someone was in love. Being with Higuruma was like being on solid ground: safe, calm, predictable... but also, deep down, too still.

Just as you were about to reply, Yorozu opened the files room door...

"Oh, sorry. I'm leaving now." Yorozu tried to leave so as not to ruin the beautiful moment.

"You're not interrupting anything." Higuruma gently pulled you away from him. "What's wrong?"

“They're going to announce the new Judge.” 

➽──────────────❥

Present

Higuruma still remembered that day with painful clarity. It was the only memory that allowed him to savor, even if only in silence, the illusion that you had once belonged to him. A sweet and fleeting mirage amid the desert of his responsibilities. But even then, his conviction to serve the commune was stronger than any feeling. It always was... or so he believed.

You were always right. Higuruma won that vote by a landslide and became the Judge. He received the outgoing Judge's golden gavel, the symbol of the commune's highest authority, the seal of justice and balance.

That morning, after filing the last cases of the day, Higuruma allowed himself a brief respite. He stretched out on the court desk, letting his body relax for a few seconds before resuming his routine. His gaze shifted to the gavel: a piece of fine wood, adorned with a gold ribbon and a cross engraved with pinpoint precision. Sometimes he wondered if he'd done the right thing. If exchanging your love for that object had been worth it.

The doors of the court opened. Higuruma looked up and saw Haibara, King Nanami's second-in-command, enter. He had been sent to guide the commune through the new world plagued by sorcerers, to instruct them, warn them, and prepare their way. He also had another, more delicate mission: to locate hidden sorcerers, just as Mei Mei had once been.

"Good afternoon, Judge." Haibara bowed with a smile.

The people were fascinated by Haibara, just as they had been by Naoya for the time he was there. He was a tall, charismatic, and well-built man, a rare sight among the villagers who knew each other. Unlike the idiot Naoya, Haibara was extremely helpful with field and administrative work. He made sure to make a good impression to represent his nation and king well.

"It took longer than I expected, but I finished the tests to find the sorcerers in the commune." Haibara handed him the list of names.

Higuruma opened the scroll, and there were some interesting names. Nagi, for example, was a sorceress with a technique to summon a shikigami that can paralyze her opponents. There was also Kusakabe, who had a cursed technique connected to his cursed katana.

"That explains why Kusakabe didn’t need training to use his katana," Higuruma thought aloud. "Thank you for your work, Haibara. I'll ask my mother to make you a delicious lunch for your hard work."

"I appreciate it very much, Judge. Although I just need to test you."

"Me? Be a sorcerer? I doubt it." Higuruma laughed.

"Don't be so pessimistic, Judge. You can see curses, can't you? It's a good indication it could be one. Just let me ask you a couple of questions.”

"I've got nothing to lose." Higuruma shrugged.

"When you see a curse, do you prefer to face it or run away?" Haibara asked him.

"I have to face it because otherwise it's going to hurt more people, or else I'd run away."

"Interesting." Haibara thought about his next question. "When faced with a curse, have you ever felt or noticed anything out of place? Like a strange force or making a movement you wouldn't normally make?"

"No, I don't think so..."

"Do you feel a strange attachment to any object?" Haibara continued.

Higuruma glanced at his gavel, the object that symbolized his position of justice within the commune. "Perhaps my gavel was a gift from the previous Judge. It's a very precious object to me."

"That's a good sign." Haibara smiled.

"Does that make me a sorcerer?" Higuruma raised an eyebrow.

"Not necessarily. There's only one way to find out," Haibara told him before raising his hand.

As soon as he snapped her fingers, Haibara disappeared.

The Judge froze, staring at the empty space where the commander had been a moment before. He looked in every direction, hoping to see him reappear in the shadows of the chamber. Nothing. "Maybe his technique involves teleportation," he thought. Maybe he had simply left the room to go somewhere else.

Confused, Higuruma sighed and bent down to pick up the files still on the table. He intended to file them before moving on with his day. Then the door opened again. He was expecting a villager, perhaps one of his assistants. But what he found was far worse.

A curse.

Its body was compact, muscular, a deep purple that almost seemed to absorb the light. It had no eyes, but its fangs protruded grotesquely from a disfigured mouth, and its arms dangled claws so long they looked like extra fingers. It moved slowly, guided by the creaking of the wood beneath its paws, while its enormous bat-like ears picked up every vibration, every whisper.

Higuruma held his breath. No. It wasn't possible. It was barely noon. The bells hadn't rung. No one had alerted him. If that thing had made it this far without anyone stopping it, there must be a flaw in the system. A dangerous breach. He could hide in the office or the filing cabinet... but that would mean leaving someone else exposed. No. He had to face it. Or at least try.

The curse advanced, each step charged with animal instinct. Higuruma knew a single scream would give him away. He didn't have his cursed katana with him. His gaze urgently scanned the room... and then he saw it: the gavel.

He approached the desk with silent steps, without taking his eyes off the creature. He picked up the gavel, feeling its weight—more symbolic than lethal, but it was the only thing he had. He formulated a plan: he would wait until the curse was close enough, deliver a precise blow to its head, and run for reinforcements. Simple. Reasonable. Dangerous.

The Judge remained motionless, the gavel raised above his head, his muscles tense, his breath bated. The creature slowly climbed the bench, then the judge's desk, each movement more disturbing than the last. It was close. Too close. And then, with all the strength he had, Higuruma brought the blow down.

But there was no impact of flesh, no agonizing shriek. Only the hollow thud of the gavel against the wood. The curse vanished into thin air like a broken illusion. And in its place, Haibara reappeared, exactly where she had been, her brow furrowed, her eyes wide with bewilderment. An unnatural silence fell over the courtroom. The light seemed to dim, as if something had sucked the color out of the day. The court grew cold, still. Something wasn't right.

"Wow, you broke my illusion," Haibara commented in surprise, scanning the courtroom. There were no more windows or doors, just the courtroom and the bench. "Looks like you just opened up a domain expansion."

"A what?" Higuruma asked, panicking.

Haibara didn't have time to answer because a specter appeared behind Higuruma. A shikigami with an elongated, dark body and a pale face, his eyes closed with three symmetrical seams. He had three corners for limbs, two holding a scale and the other acting as a leg. The personification of blind justice.

"Tell me the name of the condemned man." The shikigami spoke, echoing with resounding intensity.

"Who are you?" Higuruma asked.

"I don't matter. I don't exist. I only serve to bring justice." The shikigami replied. "Now tell me the name of the condemned man."

"Yu Haibara," the sorcerer replied, curious to see what he would do.

An envelope appeared in Higuruma's hand. He tried to open it, but it was perfectly sealed.

"Yu Haibara is sentenced for underage drinking in the Nanami Kingdom on the seventeenth day of the third month of the year 488," the Shikigami spoke.

"Oh, that's right. The former King Nanami gave me a glass of wine for my birthday; technically, it's considered a crime because I wasn't in the legal age of drinking yet. How do you know that?" Haibara asked.

"I know everything about everyone in this court."

"What will happen if he's found guilty?" Higuruma asked the Shikigami.

"Your cursed energy will be confiscated for the remainder of the battle," the shikigami spoke.

"Oh, I understand. If the shikigami is the judge, I must prove my innocence so you don't take my cursed energy," Haibara explained.

"Present your case," the shikigami roared, causing the surroundings to tremble, showing his lack of patience.

"Oh, he's persistent." Haibara smiled excitedly. "Let's see... The previous King Nanami was the one who bought me the drink, so I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. In Nanami's kingdom, the king's word is law, so I'm innocent."

The envelope in Higuruma's hand opened. The man took out a newspaper clipping detailing the party where the event took place. Apparently, Haibara and the previous King Nanami share the same birthday. The report says the king invited the attendees to drink to commemorate the feast.

"This is the report of the occasion. It says here that the previous King Nanami invited everyone to drink. He didn't specify that you drink, so it was your moral responsibility to abstain from drinking instead of taking his general word as a direct order. In this case, the king's word is not considered law," Higuruma explained, before banging the gavel against the base.

"Guilty. Confiscation will be carried out," the shikigami concluded.

The dark aura vanished, the shikigami disappeared, and the two sorcerers returned to the court as if nothing had happened. Haibara felt his body, making sure it was in one piece. He snapped his fingers and realized he couldn't use his technique.

"Oh, he confiscated my energy," Haibara said, surprised.

"Is it coming back?" Higuruma asked worriedly.

"Yes, I think so. Once your shikigami realizes we're not in battle, it will return." Haibara explained. "But that was surprising, Judge. I've never seen a technique as unique as yours. You were truly born to be a Judge."

"It seems like a very complicated technique to use."

"Well, you seem to be complicated too." Haibara joked. "I'll have time to train and perfect it later. For now, let me welcome you to the world of sorcerers." He took the Judge's hand and shook it vigorously in congratulations.

Higuruma smiled, not exactly thrilled by the idea of being a sorcerer, but by the possibility of becoming another weapon in the war that was drawing ever closer. "You're right again, Y/N," he thought.

➽──────────────❥

3 months later…

After Haibara managed to identify all the sorcerers hidden among the commune's inhabitants, he began training them individually. Se led each one along a different path, according to their abilities and temperament, guiding them from the most basic principles, such as the manifestation of cursed energy, to more complex domains, such as domain expansion. Under his mentorship, they flourished.

With each advance, the villagers felt more secure, more protected. The figure of the Judge, firm as ever, took on a new authority: that of someone who not only administered justice, but also knew how to surround himself with the best to preserve balance.

The night before the expected dawn, Higuruma and Nagi sat on the wall, covered by the cold breeze of the dawn yet to rise. They had spent the last few hours eliminating every curse that dared to cross into the commune. Now, in that rare moment of calm, they simply watched in silence, alert for any creature that might try to sneak in at the last minute.

Nagi glanced at him.

It wasn't an awkward silence. It was the kind of silence that can only exist between two people who've known each other for as long as they can remember. She knew everything about Higuruma: that he preferred dry sake, that he hated the stifling summer heat, that he found true passion in teaching orphaned children, that he could fall asleep in any corner as easily as he solved a case... and that he was hopelessly in love with you.

And what Nagi hated most was seeing him like this. With his eyes lost in the horizon, where the castle towers loomed like a promise that would never be his. Suffering in silence while you lived, on the other side of the walls, the fairy tale with the king he could never be.

"I don't understand why you're still in love with her," Nagi told him, breaking the silence.

"There are many reasons," Higuruma whispered.

"But she doesn't love you."

"Everyone has flaws," he joked.

"You're taking it too lightly."

"And do you take love seriously?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Nagi blushed.

She took her love for Higuruma very seriously. She was the first to wish him a happy birthday, always made sure he had everything he needed, and had faithfully stayed by his side while you played the tyrant's sweet princess. It didn't seem fair that he had fallen into your clutches like his brother had fallen into the Yorozu's.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Nagi whispered.

"If I get hurt, it will be my own fault." Higuruma took her shoulder to pull her closer. "You'll understand the day you fall in love."

Higuruma was very clever, but at the same time very stupid. Or maybe he was simply blind to certain things. Nagi was already worse than in love; she was lost, defeated, madly in love with him. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to grab his face and shout it out without shame, without fear. But something always stopped her. It wasn't the fear of rejection—she could live with that—but something much scarier: the fear that he would look at her with pity. That his silence would become a barrier. That he would see her as a clumsy, pathetic girl, in love with the only man in the entire commune who, out of duty or conviction, couldn't have any romantic ties.

Without a word, Higuruma gently rested his head on hers as they both watched the sunrise spread over Sukuna's kingdom. A simple, almost innocent gesture, yet it dissolved all her frustration. It was, for her, her greatest torment. But also, her deepest calm.

And although she knew he would never be hers, she wanted to spend the rest of her life and all those to come by his side. In silence. Settling for moments like that. Because sometimes, the deepest love isn't measured in kisses or promises, but in staying... even when there's nothing to look forward to.

"Don't worry so much about me. Better focus on finding a good husband who will give you the big family you want."

➽──────────────❥

As the sun rose, Higuruma returned to court to begin the new batch of issues to resolve among the villagers. He sat at his high desk and called the first case, but Mei Mei jumped the line to get to the Judge first.

"If you have a dispute, wait in line with the others," Higuruma instructed.

"You asked me to keep an eye on Y/n, didn't you?" Mei Mei asked, ignoring his instruction.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I haven't."

"What?!" Higuruma shot up from his seat, startling the participants in his first case. "What do you mean, you haven't kept an eye on her? Y/n is our greatest ally in this commune; it's our priority that she's safe."

"I know, but none of my crows have seen her in the last two months."

"Two months?!" "Why didn't you report it before?" Higuruma wanted to pull his hair out.

"Well, I thought she might have gone on a trip while I was sleeping or something, but it's been a long time. I haven't seen her through the windows, or in the parade grounds, or in the fields. But the king and her sisters are still there as if nothing had happened," Mei Mei explained.

"She must be in trouble." He thought the worst.

"Most likely." Mei Mei shrugged. "Although maybe she's sick."

"That's worse!"

"Yeah, but don't get mad, you'll get all wrinkly."

"Stop it, let me think," the Judge scolded her.

"We can always bomb the place and break in," Mei Mei suggested.

"That's it!"

"Do you really want to bomb the place? Are you crazy?"

"No! We have to go in! Ask directly!" Higuruma stood up from his desk determinedly.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Mei Mei asked, worried about the Judge's sanity.

"Just bring me a basket of strawberries," Higuruma ordered decisively.

"But they are not in season," one of the men in the court commented.

"Then whatever fruit is in season!" Higuruma lost his patience.

➽──────────────❥

Higuruma should have been terrified. It was his first time leaving the commune, and it was also his first time getting so close to King Sukuna's fearsome dark castle. The atmosphere in the curse-infested village was tense and dangerous. He traveled miles north with a basket full of peaches and his mallet hidden in his clothes, pretending to have a will of steel, but logic told him to turn back or his death would be waiting for him with jaws agape. He stopped before the great wall protecting the castle. Atop it, a pair of curses stood guard.

"Hello! I'm Hiromi Higuruma, the commune judge! I'd like to speak with the king!" He shouted, drawing their attention.

The curses looked at each other and shrugged before leaving. Higuruma opened his mouth in offense and thought of other ways to get the guards' attention again, to at least try to convince them again. The easiest way would be to throw something. So he grabbed a peach and moved a little away to get a good throwing angle. He threw it as far as he could, but…

"Who's coming to bother us?" Uraume poked their head out at that exact moment.

The peach hit Uraume's head, causing them to fall backward. Higuruma's entire face split open, surprised to hit them square in the face as if he'd done it on purpose. The servant quickly recovered and gave him a murderous glare.

"Sorry! I just wanted to get the curses' attention because they ignored me!" Higuruma explained.

"The curses on the walls don't speak, that's why they ignored you." Uraume calmly wiped the fruit juice from their face with their sleeve.

"Sorry again!"

"Just say what you're doing here." Uraume grunted, annoyed at his ineptitude.

"I've come to see Y/n. She hasn't been to the commune in a while, and I want to make sure she's okay."

"The king's servant contract prohibits visits from outsiders. You'd better leave before we execute you," Uraume ordered.

"That contract is invalid because she is no longer a servant. Sukuna's queen can receive visitors," Higuruma argued.

Uraume sensed that this plan to send you to spy on the commune would eventually backfire. I had warned the king, but he decided to go ahead with the plan because he thought the humans in the commune were stupid enough not to realize you were no longer a mere servant. That was the biggest loophole in his plans; he looked down on all humans because they were beneath their abilities.

"Also, I'm the Judge, Hiromi Higuruma. If only I could speak to the king..."

"Hiromi?" A small voice rose.

Nanako and Mimiko appeared from the wall. They were both excited to see him.

"Hello, Hiromi!" The sisters waved down at the same time.

"Hello, girls. Are you all right?" Higuruma smiled at the sight.

"We're doing very well." They both answered at the same time, as if they were in one of his classes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see your sister. I just want to make sure she's okay."

"What do you have in the basket?" Mimiko asked curiously.

"Oh, they're peaches! My favorite!" Nanako exclaimed excitedly. "Let him in, Uraume!"

"I'm not going to let him in just because he has peaches!" Uraume scolded them.

"Talk to the king!" Mimiko exclaimed.

"But..."

"Just talk to the king!" Nanako exclaimed as well.

"I'm not going to interrupt the king just because you want peaches!" Uraume flatly refused.

"If you don't talk to the king, you'll have to deal with us," Nanako threatened. There it was. The Yorozu personality that Uraume hated with all their heart.

"Are you threatening me?" Uraume snarled.

The sisters looked at each other and smiled wickedly. "Yes."

➽──────────────❥

Sukuna was in his office, reviewing reports, taking advantage of the fact that you were asleep and didn't need anything at the moment. Everything was going well until the office door swung open. Nanako and Mimiko entered with Uraume trailing behind them, severely scolding them for their manners.

"Who do you think you are, barging into my office like that?" Sukuna roared, rising from his place to tower over them.

"My king, I'm sorry to disturb your peace, but we've come to report something very serious." Nanako spoke, kneeling before him.

"What have you come to report?" The king asked, stunned by the drastic contrast in their demeanor.

"The Judge is here, and Uraume won't let him in." Mimiko answered with her head bowed.

"What does the Judge want here?" Sukuna questioned, sitting back down in his office chair.

"See our sister."

"No, he can’t come in," the king ordered.

"But our sister will be very angry if she finds out you didn't let her best friend in," Nanako argued.

"And if she gets angry, it could stress the baby," Mimiko continued.

"And if the baby gets stressed, it could be born abnormally," Nanako warned him.

"Or worse, it could kill our sister." Mimiko smiled wickedly, her head bowed so he wouldn't see her.

Sukuna and Uraume were stunned by the consequences of not letting the Judge into the castle.

"Just let him in for 10 minutes, and you'll see how my sister will thank you quite nicely." Nanako smiled tenderly.

Sukuna sighed, faced with that prediction, he had no choice.

➽──────────────❥

Higuruma couldn't believe it. Nanako and Mimiko, his former students, had accomplished the unthinkable: convincing King Sukuna himself to grant him an audience. Who would have thought it? The twins had subdued, even if only for a few minutes, the will of the kingdom's most feared tyrant... and all for a few ripe peaches. He couldn't be more proud.

Taking advantage of the brief respite, Higuruma walked through the castle halls like someone returning home after years in exile. The servants, recognizing him, greeted him with genuine smiles, some even suppressing their emotions. He, not knowing how to express his gratitude for such affection, gave them peaches because it was all he had in his hand and began handing them out with a calm smile, as if the gesture would be enough to fill the gaps created by so many years apart. A group of servants immediately ran to the kitchen to prepare him something to eat. No one wanted the Judge to leave with an empty stomach.

Sukuna, on the other hand, watched everything with an expression filled with annoyance. Not only because he'd been blackmailed (and by two tantrum-throwing little girls, no less), but because it irritated him to see how everyone adored Higuruma. That silent aura of respect, that dignity that didn't ask permission to exist. It was… unbearably admirable.

Finally, they reached the doors of the royal chambers. Your sisters entered first, eager to let you know who was coming to see you. Meanwhile, Sukuna turned to Higuruma and gave him a look that spoke volumes: a hidden edge behind his eyes. If you did anything out of line, you would die without the right to a final word. Then, with a slight gesture of annoyance, he let him in.

As he crossed the threshold, Higuruma was momentarily dazzled by the richness of the room. Carved columns, curtains embroidered with gold threads, ornate windows that told of ancient legends. Everything shone with opulent elegance, but his gaze didn't linger on any detail for long.

Because there you were. In bed, lying serenely, wrapped in warm light. Radiant. More real and more beautiful than memory had been able to preserve. And for the first time in years, Higuruma felt time stand still.

"Higuruma!" you exclaimed excitedly. "Come in, come in... How are you?" I smiled at you.

Nanako offered him a chair to sit down. "How am I? How are you? You haven't been to the commune in a long time. We're all worried." He was really the only one worried enough to break through the castle walls in search of you.

"I'm sorry, Hiromi. I just haven't had the energy to go out these past few months," you told him with a smile so he wouldn't worry.

"Don't you have the energy? Are you sick?" Hiromi asked worriedly.

"Something like that." You pulled the covers down enough for him to see your belly. "I'm pregnant."

The news hit him like a punch to the chest. He'd managed to stay on his feet when they told him you were getting married. He'd even smiled with that quiet dignity he knew so well how to use. But this... this was different. This overwhelmed him.

And the worst part wasn't the news itself, but seeing you there, in front of him, your face lit up with a happiness so sincere it hurt. You were grinning from ear to ear, naively hoping he'd share your joy too. That he'd celebrate with you.

Higuruma felt the hole open in his chest, brutal, unfathomable. He wanted to scream, hit something, tear the pain away with his hands. But he couldn't. Not there. Not with the tyrant just a few feet away, reclining indifferently on his couch, as if all of this were nothing more than a little play entertaining him. Nanako and Mimiko were still sitting nearby, laughing softly as they shared the peaches he brought. Around him, the scene seemed almost ideal, while inside him, everything was falling apart.

"My love, I'm hungry. Could you bring me some cheese, please?" you asked with a kind smile.

Sukuna disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye, swept away by one of your whims. Higuruma barely managed to open his mouth to say something when, just as quickly, the king had returned, this time with a platter of cheeses finely arranged on a silver platter.

And then something even more disconcerting happened. With a gentleness that seemed alien to his nature, Sukuna took a piece and offered it directly to your mouth. No mockery, no violence, no arrogance. Just that silent devotion that spoke louder than any words. Higuruma never imagined he'd see the feared tyrant, the one who single-handedly subdued empires, bow like that before one of his "rats."

You dominated him without raising your voice, without demanding anything. Your presence, that light smile, the light in your eyes was enough. He was the one eating from the palm of your hand. It was in that instant that Higuruma understood everything.

You were definitely Yorozu's sister.

So different in form... and yet so similar at heart. Both with that innate ability to envelop, to seduce chaos and mold it to their advantage. You looked so sweet, so innocent, laughing softly as you accepted the bite. But behind that charming expression, Higuruma knew for sure: there was a woman capable of controlling the entire world with just a few well-chosen words. And it hurt him... because he could never have you. Even if you were free, you would have been his.

"Congratulations." Higuruma could barely speak. "How many months are you?"

"8 months old, the baby shouldn't be long in coming."

"Do you need anything? Medicine, teas, something for the baby?" Higuruma offered his help.

"Sukuna's already taken care of everything, so there's no need for you to worry."

"Is there really nothing I can do for you?" It was more of a plea than a request.

"If you could visit me more often, that would be great." You smiled at him.

"No way. I don’t allow it." Sukuna grunted.

"Don't be rude, Ryomen Sukuna. Hiromi has been very kind to me and has cooperated with you in good faith. He can enter the castle whenever he pleases." You scolded him.

"With whose permission?" Sukuna barked.

"Mine. This is my castle too." You stood up to him.

"We just got married, and you became unbearable." Sukuna gave you another piece of cheese so you'd shut up and not give another order. You couldn't help but eat with a smile on your face.

➽──────────────❥

After a visit that lasted half an hour, Higuruma was escorted by Sukuna to the exit. As the bridge lowered, he decided to muster the courage to thank him for his time.

"Thank you for letting me pass, my king." He bowed.

"Are you coming back?" Sukuna asked him directly.

Higuruma wasn't sure.

Part of him longed to return, even if only for a few minutes. To see you once more, to hear you laugh, to feel that, for an instant, time wasn't crushing him. But there was another, quieter, more painful part that feared what he might find. He didn't know if his heart could withstand seeing you again, your belly rounded by Sukuna's son, carrying within you the blood of that tyrant he swore never to bow to.

And besides, there was another risk. One he couldn't ignore: the danger of crossing the invisible line with the king, of saying the wrong word, of looking a second too long. Sukuna was unforgiving. Neither doubt nor desire nor weakness. A single misinterpreted gesture was enough to become a memory erased from history. So Higuruma remained silent. Because sometimes, loving also meant staying away. Even if all you want is to stay.

"You better do it," Sukuna ordered him.

"I thought he didn't want me in your castle?" The Judge asked, puzzled.

"Not me, but my daisy does. So you better show up again, or I'll move the curfew up an hour," Sukuna threatened him once the bridge was fully lowered.

Higuruma crossed the bridge with a threat in his pocket. He sighed heavily, having no choice but to leave you behind.

Next →

Masterlist.

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[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑇𝑒𝑦𝑣𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟, Part 1

Neuvilette

Inspiration: 2024 Lantern Rite's final quest.

"Neuvilette? My boy, are you isolating yourself from the society once again because they said something about Melusines again?"

For the people of Fontaine, seeing the Iudex smile, yet alone widely enough to show his teeth and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, would be a sign of doom.

Their Chief Justice? Smiling? Running up to some random woman and sweeping them off their feet?

Nah, that would be impossible... Even if it was many men and women's shared dream.

Yet, as the tall and elegant man turned to look back where the soft, honey-like voice of his "mother" came from as he stood where he was looking at Fontaine, just for a second to take your ethereal sight in, robes swinging back and forth, hair resting over your head as if nothing changed over the past thousands of years ... He wasn't the Hydro Dragon who just gained all of his powers back. Neither was he the Iudex of Fontaine or the stoic Chief Justice everyone seemed to know him as.

He was just a boy who missed his mother and excitedly run to her, crushing himself and clinging on to your body much like he used to do when he was a kid and he got hurt because of his curiosity, leading him back to your comforting and warm embrace as you healed him and wiped his tears away with your kisses on his chubby face.

"Owww... You seem to forget that I'm as fragile as any other human in this form, young man." Although your words seemed to reprimand him, with that playful pout on your lips as you pointed at his chest with fake anger, the giggle you let out as you hung onto your eldest son's neck ( that little rascal was way too tall for your poor, tiny human self.) told him other wise.

"You shaped the mountains, designed and floated the clouds, made the rivers flow and created life and I am too much now?" Neuvillette chuckled with a raised brow, his hands tight over your waist and amused as you shrugged your shoulders and looked down, a hint of embarrassment obvious on the flush of your cheeks.

"Ehe, perhaps... However I'm now very old you know? I want to enjoy the simplicity of human life!" He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes squeezed at your innocent pout not so impressed as you raised a brow in question that made hım gulp nervously.

Uh oh, It's the "Mom Stare"...

"I... Mother, I wasn't exactly expecting to see you here? What welcomes you here, to Fontaine?" He asked you after several minutes of silence, looking at the horizon where the waterfalls of Fontaine poured down to the sea seperating the Nation of Water from Sumeru, the Nation of Wisdom...

Where you, may or may not, caused chaos for the sages for their treatment on your granddaughter just a few months back.

"Oho? Am I not allowed to visit my son? I know you are all busy and things like that but that's no excuse for you to-" you raised a brow in question, looking at hım offended as he widened his amethyst eyes and fumbled with his hands.

"N-No, mother, of course not! I was just surprised since it hadn't been too long you were to go to Sumeru with Nahida and-"

You giggled at his anxiety and patted his arm motherly, holding onto his folded arm as you leant on hım. You knew where he was coming from, considering the chaos you unleashed on Sumeru for imprisoning your sweet pie Nahida, when you bestowed such a kind god as their Archon...

As much as you loved humans, sometimes they could be so stupid and blind to truths...

"I'm just kidding... Traveller and Paimon told me you left Liyue early, although you were supposed to be on leave for a vacation to go and enjoy yourself and..." You waved your hand dismissively, as if it wasn't a big deal that you almost have Neuvillette a heart attack. He couldn't help but fear you, knowing just what you can do.

You were the Creator... Did he even need to tell anything else?

And with all the recent news, it didn't come off as much of a surprise to you that you were angry at Fontaine for any reasons.

You just wanted to see your son and enjoy some cake and tea with your poor Furina, and maybe have girls outing with Navia and Clorinde. Was that too much to ask for a mother?

But, all jokes, drama and teasings aside... There was another reason of your questioning him about his recent visit to a certain someone's lands... A deep longing was hidden behind your visit, a wish to fix something very dear and yet a sensitive topic for a mother's heart....

"And also meet your younger brother."

Yep, there it was... The topic he despised to talk about.

He sighed tiredly as he pinched the bridge of his nose agitated, not at you but the situation at hand. Don't get him wrong, he loved all of his younger siblings and niece, Nahida, Rukkhadevata and Makoto the most, probably... He got along pretty well with the most of his brothers as well...But for the love of him, he couldn't meet and somehow have a decent conversation with Morax anymore.

He just couldn't.

And okay, maybe they had a huge little scuffle back in ancient times where he almost drowned Morax because he got angry for taking his books without his permission, but surely that wasn't big enough of a problem for Morax to avoid him, right?

"I didn't see him anywhere mother, although the Traveller said that he was in Chenyu Vale with Miss Hu Tao..." He gracefully answers, sweating slightly as he avoided looking at you. A mother always knows when her children lies, is what you always used to say when he did something you wouldn't approve of when he was a kid and tried to hide it, thinking he could hide it from you.

He was throughly proven wrong each time he did it, and eventually didn't hide anything... But right now, he wishes he really could by not looking at you.

Of course, you see right through his plan and smile in understanding as you rub his glowed knuckles in your much smaller hands. "You are the Soverign, sweetie, you could have easily spotted and tracked him..."

You carefully said, not wanting to upset him by your words. You knew Neuvillette, although he might have some issues with connecting, loved his siblings very much. He was the one who was with you when you first introduced each and every one of them, and there were a lot of siblings, and he was the one who played with them whenever you had to take care of business, smiling widely at you and radiating true happiness.

And he was so gentle with them, patient too. He often indulged with Rukkhadevata's book hauling, Focalor and Egeria's pranks, Barbatos' wandering and often was the one who chased after him before he got lost. He was the one who later trained all of them, whether on physical fight or magic use.

What had changed? Was it the distance, or your absence for milleniad? Was it because they thought it was difficult to maintain their siblinghood now that they were all grown ups with different personalities than those they had as children?

Where had he done wrong to keep the family together?

He kept his silence after your question, confirming what you said in a way, as he continued to look onward... Though this time, with a crestfallen look as the night sky of Fontaine had gotten even darker with grey clouds promising a heavy rain.

He was, of course, aware that they all had grown up. That they were not the same, little children that used to wander after hım like a bunch of ducklings who lived for their big brother's praises... He knew they were all their nation's archons, or respectable figures, but still...

It didn't hurt less whenever they would have to cut their sibling meetings short... Or in one particular person's case, blatantly avoid him in public.

Neuvillette really wanted to reconcile with his brother and be like how they used to be when they were little, him always following after his tail and begging to teach him swimming (in which they soon learnt that Zhongli was indeed terrible at swimming and now had trauma from the sea and the creatures in it) since he adored whenever his brother's hair and body would be covered with pretty sea shells,admiring how gracefully he moved along the water.

After learning his fear for sea creatures in the hard way, and crying alongside him as they latched onto your chest with you awkwardly patting their little back to comfort them (as if you didn't have an attack at seeing them crying their eyes out), Neuvillette thought that training with Morax on the ground would be a better idea.

And it was a good idea as they experimented with various weapons, eventually finding out Morax's talent with polearms... The one kind of weapon that Neuvillette sucked at using.

That was kind of a turning point in their bond, with Morax being excited to find something he was good at against his brother. You still remembered how excitedly he jumped between your arms as you walked through your garden to check on them, telling him and you that he would one day be stronger than he was as the Hydro Soverign, to which you would giggle as you nuzzled to his soft baby cheeks as your eldest would gently answer with both a headpat, his hand holding ont yours, and a I cannot wait for that day to come, Li, but... He just didn't know why and when exactly Zhongli started to run away from him every time he tried to get close.

You couldn't talk to someone if that someone was running away from you, right?

You placed a gentle hand on his arms, understanding his sadness and offering him a reassuring smile. "Oh, sweetheart, siblings have their disagreements. It's only natural. But remember, underneath it all, there's a bond that can weather any storm."

Neuvillette nodded, taking solace in your words. "I know, mother, but sometimes it feels like we're worlds apart."

You squeezed his hand affectionately, heart breaking for his worry over his siblings while you knew the comedic truth. "You may be different in many ways, but you're also cut from the same cloth. Your bond runs deep, and no disagreement can erase that."

Feeling a sense of warmth enveloping him, Neuvillette leaned into his mother's comforting embrace, grateful for your wisdom and unwavering support. In that moment, he knew that no matter what challenges he faced with his siblings, his mother would always be there to guide him through.

...

As you two sat on a marble chair closeby, with Neuvilette resting on your shoulder as your hands idly ran through his white locks, Clorinde's words were still hanging around your mind, clouding your heavy heart with worry.

"Neuvilette is not the type to take too much time off. Taking even a half day is already a big step towards the huge direction."

Perhaps... Your son was feeling overwhelmed by these new human feelings and overworking himself in the process?

Was that why he was avoiding everyone? Even you, for the past few days, despite knowing you had descended?

Oh no... Was he feeling left out? Was he even eating anything? Sleeping well? How long has it been that he took some time off for himself? And what about Zhongli? Why didn't he want to see his brother? Were they okay-

"Mom... I can feel you are panicking again." Neuvilette gently purred out as he raised his head slightly off of your shoulder to look at you with an understanding yet playful look.

"Well... You wouldn't understand me without becoming a father yourself, dear boy." You scoffed with a knowing look, hands swatting on his chest as you stubbornly looked away, smoking through your nose. Neuvillette couldn't help the shy and amused chuckle that left him as he watched you "fume", your face slightly lightening up from inside because of your flames, before you talked.

"Then... Would you mind telling me what you were doing this late?"

"Oh, nothing much. Since I finished my work early for the day, I thought I might take a walk and avail myself of this area's peace and quiet."

"E-Early...?" you sweated awkwardly at his confused face, tilting his head cutely at you as he nodded in confirmation.

How the hell all your children inherited your overworking abilities?!

"Ahh... Sweetie, do you always work... this late? It is past midnight?" You stuttered anxious words, hand rubbing a nonexistent dust over your nose as you looked at his tilted face.

Oh, he didn't understand what the problem was...

"Ahem, strictly talking, mother... It depends on the agenda of the day. I am hardly bereft of time, however, so working late is of little concern to me-" he started to ramble with a knowing and contend look, as if he was used to this but... How could someone be used to working all the time?

Even when you too took breaks from time to time?

"Neuvilette, I, as the you know, Creator, took days off for some relaxation..."

"..."

Okay, I can't judge him because of that... I do that a lot too and besides, saying anything wouldn't change something anyways... Change the topic, change the topic, change the to-

"Then, how was your spontaneous vacation?" You sighed dejectedly in acceptance as you turned to look at him, changing the topic. If he noticed your attempts, he didn't acknowledge, or at least tried to, as he hummed and turned to look at the ocean swirling lanquidly.

"Refreshing... I haven't felt that good in ages and admired your creations..."

"Aaaand?"

Neuvilette looked at you perplexed, as if he was weighing his options whether he should tell you or not. He didn't know why he was hesitating, you were his mother and he knew you wouldn't look down at him and what he does with his life. On the contrary, you would probably be over the moon at hearing that he was finally doing something besides working all the time.

But what he didn't want to admit was that... He was shy to show you his product. And he knew, for the light of his life, he wouldn't hear the end of your gushing at his hobbies for the next few centuries as you showed it around to your other children and "buddies"Z the same ones that was created by you.

With a sigh of acceptance, he raised his gloved hand towards the sky and soon blue and silver magic formed in between his palms

"Oh, right. My spontaneous outing resulted with... another spontaneous decision. Which is... ceramics."

Neuvillette confessed, carefully cradling a wrapped bundle in his arms like it was something fragile — or perhaps embarrassing.

You, his mother, blinked at him from where you sat, hands pausing mid-air over your lap. "Ceramics?" you echoed, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips.

Neuvillette shifted, clearly a little sheepish, the ends of his hair trembling with the faintest hint of his unease as his blue streaks over his head shone brighter yet flickered sometimes. "Yes. I thought it would be a... calming pastime. Productive. Honorable."

His voice, usually so assured when passing judgment or overseeing Fontaine's laws, now carried the distinct tone of a child bringing home a muddy rock and declaring it treasure.

How cute your children could be... AGHHHH!

Barely containing the "cuteness agression", as your other children called it, you shifted to look at him with your hand clasped on your lap, the fabric of your elegant dress bundling up slightly. You gently brushed a hand over his arm, feeling the tension wound tight beneath his immaculate sleeves.

" I'm proud of you, my little Neuvi.... I saw the gift you gave to Traveller. They seemed to like it very much as they gushed how cute it looked."

Neuvilette only flushed more as the tips of his ears slowly turned to a cute pink at the mention of the Traveller showing you his work before he could do it himself.

You couldn't help but giggle a bit at his sudden and unexpected shyness, finding it oddly nostalgic as your hand squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"I... Mom, I actually made somethings for you as well. That is, if you accept them."

"Show me," you said warmly.

Seeing his hesitance, the way his eyes slowly drifted away to the waterfalls of Fontaine, then the night sky, then back at you, you sighed and flicked his forehead with a fake-harshness in both touch and your voice.

"Neuvilette... You know I cherish everything about you and your siblings do. I will cherish and love whatever you made for me because it was made by your hands for me."

Slowly, reverently, Neuvillette unwrapped the cloth with a sigh. And what was inaide brought a fare, affectionate smile you hadn't shown to anyone in millenias because of all the chaos you had to endure.

Inside was a lopsided, slightly misshapen urn, glazed in a soft stormy blue and golden with hues of orange — the exact shade of the ocean as the sun rose for a new day, with a dragon emerging from it.

Your smile only grew at the details of the urn as you twisted it on your hold, slouching a bit to take a closer look at your son's handwork. Neuvilette held his breath as his hands twitched nervously, waiting for your reaction while holding his breath unconsicously.

"It's beautiful," you murmured, meaning it with all the sincerity only a mother could hold. Your hands cradled it delicately as your fingers rubbed the contours of the craft of your son.

"Really? You like it?" He let out excitedly, eyes shining at your praise that you couldnt help but coo internally.

"To tell you the truth, given to your unexpected arrival, I find myself quite unequipped to give you the welcome you deserve. Around such an important holiday, human custom would dictate that gifts should be in order..."

What was he on... Why was he rambling?

"I know this isn't much compared to your endless wealth and they don't look so good..."

"Neuvilette-"

"I just started to learn the basics... I'm afraid, this is all I can offer, if you'll have that is-"

" Boy..." With a sigh and hard look at him, your voice turning raspy and echoing in the vastness, he fell silent. You stared at the small, lopsided ceramic piece you cradled in your hands and towards his own trembling ones — and then back at his worried face.

"You think I care if it's perfect?" You said, voice thick with emotion. "You could’ve given me a lump of mud, and I'd still treasure it."

You reached out, gently taking the ceramic from him as if it were made of gold and presses it close to your chest, much like a child would to their dear toy.

"This," you said, "is perfect because you made it. You hear me?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with a fierce hug, nearly knocking the breath out of him. His handiwork was pressed between your bodies and although he felt the emotional shiver of your body that he didn't understand... It felt nice to have your hug, after everything that happened to you, to hım, and the world.

"I love it. And I love you. Stop overthinking every little thing, you silly boy."

"Really? You... Love it?" He sounds almost breathless, his blue streaks twitching happily without hım noticing. You can't help but giggle at the sight.

"Why sound so unsure, my dear? I am always proud of and love everything you do. And this urn, in particular, will always remind me of you. You made it yourself, after all and poured a part of yourself..."

"How can I not absolutely love this?"

You pressed the bowl closer to your chest, heart swelling with affection, as you gave him the warm and loving smile he missed. "You know... this reminds me of when you were very small — you once tried to shape a sculpture from river clay. You insisted it was a 'majestic beast,' but it looked more like a... soggy sea cucumber."

Neuvillette cleared his throat, visibly mortified at remembering his youth. He clearly remembered that day, how excited he was to show you his creation, proudly exclaiming how he was like you now.

"I was very young."

"You were very proud," you corrected gently, reaching out to pat his white locks, nostalgia hitting you as you remembered that little boy... Who turned out to be so big, gall and powerful. "Just like now."

He softened then, the corners of his lips tilting ever so slightly. For all his practiced stoicism, looked almost bashful. He shuffled closer to you, arm shooting up to wrap around your shoulders and pull you to himself for a protective, side hug

"If you would like," he offered, voice quieter, "I can... continue. Perhaps a full tea set. Eventually."

You laughed softly, a sound like a ripple across still waters, and patted his arm.

"I would love that, make as many as you wish, my dear. I will cherish them all. And finally, we can have those tea parties you guys would have when you were children. Only this time, it will be a real one!" you said warmly, already imagining the entire shelf you would dedicate to his earnest, wobbly creations, and the gatherings of all your children when you all will sit down and listen to the stories each one of you experienced

And, privately, you thought: how wonderful it was that even the Iudex himself still sought his mother's approval in such gentle ways.

After all, no treasure was greater than a gift made by your beloved son — whether it was a crooked bowl or a lopsided sea cucumber.

"Now, you wouldn't be opposed to accompany your mother for a nightly tea time, no? We can go water testing tomorrow too! I heard some complaints from my other creations how their water tasted... different. Oh, and then we can go and eat some sweets! I heard that..."

As you continued to ramble, he couldnt help but notice you tightening your hold over the urn and press it closer between your arm as he got up and linked his arm with your free one, slowly walking back to the Opera Epiclese before he retreated to his personal chamber for the night.

His hold tightened over your arm, eyes flickering with a rare vulnerability at having his Mother back as he shakily released a sigh and pressed himself closer to you to discreetly nuzzle to your warmth.

"Never, mom..."

Beidou, Kazuha and Ningguang

The sun was beginning to dip behind the rooftops of Ritou, casting a warm amber hue over the busy street. Food stalls lined both sides of the main path—grilled squid, sweet dango, and every kind of skewered thing you could imagine. The air smelled like sizzling soy sauce, seaweed, and something questionably fermented.

Despite the not-so-pleasant memories you had here, the lightening sounds somehow bringing back your trauma related to the time you saved Traveller. You weren't phased or didn't regret what you did for the Traveller, you knew how much they needed someone to stand up for them and have their back... And Paimon could only do so much with her small size.

Apart from the resurfacing traumas, you could confidently say that those bad days were no more. The abyss was no more, the Sinners were punished for their greed, Ley Lines were working in the best way and... Now, you were hungry.

Meanwhile, after months at sea, battling tempests, treasure-hunters, and the occasional wayward rogues that thought themselves sea kings, Beidou and Kazuha returned to Inazuma at long last. The port greeted them with its usual misty skies, sizzling takoyaki, and the sounds of gossiping elders who could rival the thunder itself in decibels.

Kazuha couldn't help the sigh that left him when he took in the air, the familiar humidity, smell of meals, seaweed and iron making hım smile softly. He was a free soul, that much was obvious to many that met him. His life was at the sea and the sea was his life, he went wherever the wind took him... The wind was his guide, the deck of a ship his steady ground, and the ever-changing sea his home.

Yet, there was no denying the way his heart settled whenever he stepped onto the shores of Inazuma. The land hummed with a quiet familiarity, a pull not unlike gravity. It was in the rustle of sakura leaves, in the distant calls of cicadas, and the way the wind carried memories only he could hear.

He was a wanderer by choice, but Inazuma… Inazuma was the song etched into his soul

But even then, commotion and chaos was still something that wont disappear.

“YOU THERE—yes, YOU—please stop trying to trade a dango milk for an entire crate of fried tofu!”

You, in your current inconspicuous “totally normal traveler” disguise (which was just a hood and very bad posture), were seated cross-legged next to a takoyaki cart. Not at a table. Not on a bench. Literally next to the cart, squatting like a gremlin with a plate in hand and one more precariously balanced on your knee.

“Ma’am,” the vendor tried again, voice weary but polite, an irk martk appearing at his poor wrinkled forehead. “you can’t just—listen, you have to pay for the extra servings. ‘Divine hunger’ isn’t a legal excuse.”

You shoved a ball of fluffy pancake and syrup into your mouth and gave a muffled, “Mmrrph—buh my blessings, though.”

The vendor blinked. “Your what.”

“Blessings,” you said after gulping. “They’re spiritually enriching. Also good for your crops.”

“I run a dango stand.”

“Then may your dough always stand evenly.”

Meanwhile, not far off, Beidou and Kazuha had just finished unloading supplies and were casually strolling through the market. The clamor of vendors calling out their wares, the clinking of coins, and the fragrant scent of grilled seafood filled the air, lively and comforting.

Beidou stretched her arms overhead with a satisfied grunt, cracking her back before giving Kazuha a sideways grin. “You know, it almost feels like we're back on the Alcor—just with more noise and less salt in the air.”

Kazuha chuckled under his breath, his gaze drifting across the rows of stalls as his captain, the usual boistrous and cheerful woman, quipped at hım. “Perhaps. But I think the wind moves differently here. Softer. More... nostalgic.”

Beidou raised an eyebrow at him as she picked up a skewered fish from a passing vendor’s cart. “That poetic stuff again? You get like this every time we dock in Inazuma.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied with a gentle smile, hands tucked into his sleeves. “This land remembers things. And sometimes, I think it remembers me too.”

Beidou snorted fondly and offered him a bite of the skewer. She knew better than to tease him about his homeland, not after everything he experienced. Becoming an exile and wanted criminal at a young age, witnessing his family die one by one just because they stood against the authority and their understanding of the "Divinity and Creator"...

Kazuha earned to be all poetic and emotional about his homeland, especially after the peculiar person they met and saved in Mondstadt all those years ago..

"Well, if the land remembers you, the least it could do is pay you in fresh snacks.” she nudged hım playfully as she paid for a sweet she couldn't name yet. Seriously, why all the names here are so different?

“I swear, I smell trouble,” Beidou said, sniffing the air with a grin, the hair on her arms standing as if trying to sense the so-called trouble. “Or maybe just seaweed.”

Kazuha slowed down, peering past the crowd as his goofy captain looked around comedically. If he had to be honest, the wind felt much softer and the voices it carried was more like chimes and joyfull giggled than the usual whispers. He wondered if you were here after so long. It has been so long ever since he, or anyone, last saw you. He knew you kept visiting Mondstadt (only because your friends were there, not that you forgave of forgot about what happened), Natlan and Fontaine, although preferring to stay in Fontaine more since Natlan's weather... Was a bit harsher for you.

Oh, how he wished you would stay in Inazuma too... He really wanted to tell you all about his past, the places he always loved to go and even indulging with some poetry with you next to hım as his muse (although you were always at the back of his mind whenever he went out at midnight to the dock amd stared at the distant stars). But he knew that the scars you had because of his homeland wasn't easy to overcome.

Watching your own people hurt each other mercilessly, being hurt mercilessly by them and yet still choosing to protect them at the cost of your divine blood and the mortal life you wished to continue...

He didn't want to imagine the possible outcomes, or the person he would have turned out at the first sight of your empty eyes, golden blood and battered body... Laying on the steps of the Tenshukaku... Visions broken at your feet...

He quickly shook his head with a shaky sigh and aching heart, not wanting to remember or darken his mood at such a nice day, when his eyes turned around at the sound of an angry vendor and some giggle from a few meters away. Now, it wasn't unusual for the vendors to be... A bit passionate when they were selling their goods, and he pitied the poor soul that was facing such thing as he cringed awkwardly with a bead of sweat rolling down his neck... But that cloaked person and how they acted reminded hım of someone, someone that accompanied him often on the Alcor whenever they visited, someone he shared his deepest thoughts and emotions with...

“...Is that Y/N?”

Beidou peered over the short man as she rested her arm on his head, quick to suddenly appear next to her right hand. She followed his gaze and ,then saw you—hood half-fallen, chopsticks clenched in both fists like dueling swords, eyes wide with food-induced euphoria. “It is.” A smile tugged at her lips as her eye crinkled at the corner.

There, in the middle of the bustling market, sat you—the very Creator they had once rescued years ago. Back then, you’d been half-conscious, celestial light pouring from your veins, eyes glazed from the shock of divine memory. The War with Celestia had loomed back then, and while your powers had been sealed to keep your presence secret, your identity was known to a select few.

Namely, them. Beidou and Kazuha.

But now, you were squatting in the middle of a vendor’s rug, surrounded by discarded skewers, stuffing your face with roasted sea bass and waving a pair of chopsticks like divine batons. Healthy, happy and quite playfull enough to come down and hang out with the humans. Your presence was radiant — otherworldly, even — but right now you were far more “feral festival guest” than “celestial anomaly.” A faint, shimmering aura clung to your skin, betraying your true nature to any who looked too closely. But for the average Inazuman walking by, you were just another eccentric tourist with a big appetite.

The vendor sighed and looked over at the guard slowly approaching. “Look, just—could you move? You're blocking the pickled plum display and scaring my other customers.”

“I’m not scaring them. I’m mysterious. Say, let's make a deal!" You excitedly called out with a gleeful smile the vendor couldn't help but admit to be refreshing and relaxing. There was something strangely soothing about the sparkle in your eyes, the way you spoke like the world itself was a toy in your hands. A little chaotic, sure, but not dangerous… probably.

"..."

"I’ll give you one thousand Mora and my eternal blessing for another octopus ball,” you said. The vendor, a teen barely older than a fresh cabbage, blinked. “One… one thousand Mora?”

“And my eternal blessing,” you repeated, eyes wide and dead serious. Why was he focusing on the wrong part?! “Do you know how many mortals would kill for a celestial endorsement? Entire empires were built on less!”

“You already owe me five eternal blessings and all the cats are gathered here thanks to you!” the vendor bit back, already feeling a headache forming deep in his Braun.

“...Hush. It builds character." You said with a serene and nonchalant look, similing with closed eye aa you cooed at the sweet furballs. You sat cross-legged on top of an overturned crate, gently cooing at the sweet furballs who crowded at your feet like tiny worshippers. One was curled on your lap. Another had somehow nested in your hair.

"Besides," you added in a singsong tone, cracking one eye open and giving the vendor a sly look, "your crush also likes cats and is coming over here, don't you think I deserve a Thank you?"

The vendor froze like he’d been hit with a lightning bolt and craned his neck at you much like a puppet, with an angry mark almost appearing on his forehead. “What—how do you—she’s what?”

Couldn't let this mortal think you are just a silly woman, right?

You casually gestured to the approaching girl with a basket of dumplings in her arms, already cooing at the cats as she neared.

“Oh no,” the vendor muttered. “Oh no, you didn’t—”

“She mentioned she liked guys who are gentle with animals,” you said sweetly, as you plucked a kitten off your shoulder and gently deposited it into his arms mid-step. “You’re welcome. Now give me another octopus ball.”

The poor man did exactly that as he stood there like a statue, too shocked to say anything else as you bowed and thanked him for his generosity, knowing full well that he was short-circuiting at the pretty face of his ling-term crush.

“May your takoyaki always be crispy, your oil never burn, and your sauce ratio remain divine.” You boomed, giggling to yourself as you hopped away from him, without knowing that Beidou and Kazuha watched everything unfold with wide eyes and open mouths.

Beidou whistled. “Well I’ll be damned. The Creator’s really gone full local, blessing street food now. She also plays the matchmaker, it appears."

Kazuha smiled gently. “She always did want to understand mortals more intimately.”

Despite the fact that he wasn't sure if playing a matchmaker was a right way to understand human emotions...

As the duo was contemplating whether they should go up to you or not, you beat them into by lookinh up first. Caught sight of them, the usual comfortimg colors of red and white on Kazuha and the ever famous purple and magenta clothes of Beidou, who were both similing and waving at you excitedly. Then froze mid-bite, and...

"Beidou? Kazuha?” you said, as if shocked at seeing them here and made a double take. "HOLY ME, YOU GUYS ARE ALIVE! I WAS SO WORRIED!" You gulped down your bite and immediately sprung up to hug them much like Paimon flying towards food: fast, dramatic, and with absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

You nearly knocked Kazuha over with the force of your hug, arms flinging around both him and Beidou like your life depended on it. Beidou gave a hearty laugh, nearly choking on her drink as she caught you mid-launch.

Beidou crossed her arms. “Fancy seeing you here, oh-great-glutton-of-the-skewer-cart.” and she continued. “Easy there, stormcloud,” she chuckled, squeezing you back. “What’s this? Thought we died at sea or something?”

“YES?” you cried, half-muffled in her shoulder as your face git smushed between their shacking shouldera. “You vanished! For weeks! No word! No vision resonance!"

Kazuha, ever the composed one, gently patted your back with a quiet chuckle. “We didn’t mean to cause worry. The waves were just… a little more persuasive than we anticipated.”

“A little?!” you pulled back, jabbing a finger at both their chests. “I thought I’d have to build a shrine and write elegies about how cool you both were!”

Beidou threw her head back and laughed. “Write one anyway. I could use the ego boost.”

"As if you need it..." Kazuha muttered under his breath, hoping that she didn't hear. But even if she couldn't, the wind surely brought it to your ears as he watched you giggle to your hands. His heart soared happily, bearing harder under his ribcage then promptly tripped over itself and slammed face-first into panic.

He looked away quickly, eyes fixed on some extremely interesting plank of wood on the dock as his fingers curled slightly at his side. Smooth. Very smooth, he thought, silently cursing both the wind and the way your laughter sounded like bells tumbling down a hillside.

What if you thought he was being rude? What if you knew it was flirting? Was that flirting? Archons, he couldn't tell anymore.

Get it together, he told himself. You’ve faced storms, pirates, and abyssal beasts. You can handle a smile.

And yet… you laughed again at something Beidou said, and Kazuha was fairly certain a smile from you was ten times more dangerous than any storm.

“The Creator graces the street with both appetite and economy, I see.” Kazuha exclaimed with a fond smile, a poor attempt at hiding his true thoughts and emotions. You stared at them quizzically and blushed at the way they pointed to the poor vendor who stumbling with his words at the face of his crush, many empty plates and skewers laying on the ground around hım.

"Ahh, you know... Supply and demand relationship. Good for the economy and the prices, hehe..."

“The same could be said for you! You are glowing!” Beidou laughed, dragging you up and into a hug that probably knocked three dumplings you hid out of your sleeve.

“I've been blending in,” you said proudly. “Making connections. Gathering knowledge. Overeating.”

Kazuha, meanwhile, stood a respectful step back, watching with a fond smile and a quiet internal crisis. You were glowing—Beidou was right. Whether it was the sunlight or the laughter or the sauce stain on your cheek, it didn't matter. You were unfairly radiant in every chaotic movement.

Kazuha chuckled, helping dust off your knees. “You’re disguised so well, I nearly mistook you for a traveling food critic.”

“I’m doing research,” you said defensively, wiping sauce from your chin. “Also, I skipped breakfast.”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

"Doesn't change the fact that I am hungry."

Kazuha knelt down to offer you a hand up, joining in your shenanigans. Who would have thought that the Creator was a playful one “Would the Creator like to accompany us somewhere less... likely to result in public arrest?”

You took his hand and stood—dramatically, one foot still on a crate like you were posing for a statue.

“I accept this noble summons.” you stated proudly as Kazuha giggled sweetly, his soft voice making you blush slightly as you allowed him to grab your waist and let you down gracefully, much like a princess, as you held onto his lean yet strong shoulders and back.

“You also owe that guy 3,000 Mora.”

You paused. Reached into your pocket and pulled out a huge bag, suprisingly full of Mora.

“Can I interest you in one sacred steamed bun and—”

The vendor groaned and shooed you away. “Just go. Before you bless my taxes too.”

Beidou slung an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, you menace. Let’s go drink something that isn’t soup grease.”

And with that, the three of you disappeared into the crowd—Kazuha gracefully, you hobbling while still chewing, and Beidou already asking if anyone had brought rum. However, as much as she played it cool, you could see the fidgeting Beidou had, a very obvious sign of her hiding something. Her fingers were drumming against her belt, her eyes darting anywhere but directly at you—classic signs of a pirate captain either brewing mischief or trying (and failing) to act casual.

“Beidou…” you squinted. “What exactly are you scheming?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then abruptly threw her hands up like she'd been caught red-handed. “Alright, fine! I want to go chest hunting!”

You blinked. “...What?”

“You heard me!” she grinned, stepping forward with both excitement and zero shame. “I’ve seen your luck. You trip on a pebble and somehow land on a hidden Luxurious Chest! You sneeze and a Seelie leads you to buried treasure. I need that kind of cosmic favoritism.”

“We’re setting sail at dawn. You, me, Kazuha, some maps, and an entire coastline of unopened potential. You are coming with me and touching everything suspicious.”

You took a slow, luxurious sip of your icy drink, letting the sweetness coat your tongue as you fixed Beidou with a calm, calculating stare—the kind that only meant one thing: you were about to ask for something ridiculous. You couldnt bother to go adventuring, not when you were stuffed to your mouth with food, but... It sure sounded nice.

“So,” you started, tapping your finger against the side of the cup, “I’ll join your treasure hunt. No complaints, no fake injuries, not even a single sarcastic comment.”

Beidou narrowed her eyes, already knowing where this was going as she anxiously sweated. “Go on.”

“In exchange,” you said smoothly with an adorable smile, “we make a detour to that one harbor—you know the one. The one with the lady who sells those soft, steaming bao buns stuffed with spicy golden shrimp.”

Kazuha gave a quiet hum of recognition. “The ones you bought six of and claimed were for ‘the happiness of the masses’?”

“They were!” you defended, raising your cup slightly like it was a gavel. “And my findings were delicious.”

Beidou snorted, shaking her head side to side. “That place is way off our route.”

“Exactly,” you said with a sly grin. “Which is why I’m offering my elite, S-tier treasure-sensing luck in return. You want loot, I want shrimp buns. We all win. Including the buns.”

Beidou stared at you, then threw her head back in laughter. “Fine! But you’re buying my share too if they’re as good as you say.”

You lifted your drink again in triumph. “Glad we’ve reached an agreement, Captain. Treasure and buns—my two main motivations in life.”

“…You forgot freedom and justice,” Kazuha murmured.

“They’re third and fourth,” you said, waving him off. “Right after my precious buns." Kazuha and Beidou could see your eyes shaped in heart, mouth salivating as you dreamily mumbled at the divine taste of the buns.

Yeah, how were you supposed to know your foodie tendencies would be your near end?

---

It started with a glimmer.

A shimmer, really. A barely visible gleam tucked between two slippery cave walls on an uncharted island Beidou had absolutely insisted was “swarming with treasure.” and you dragged her with a victorious smile and a hand pointing there like a captain, as Beidou called lovingly.

What it actually had was slimes, bones, and a very large, very ancient sea creature that looked like someone had fused a Ruin Grader with a shrimp and given it a personal vendetta.

"WHY does it have antlers?!" you screamed, slipping on the wet rocks as Beidou yanked you up by the arm, her greatsword already unsheathed.

"I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT'S ANGRY!" she shouted back, eyes wild with the kind of thrill only a pirate could feel when seconds from being eaten alive.

Meanwhile, Kazuha, the only sane one, was attempting to distract it with a swirl of Anemo and a surprisingly calm, "We may wish to retreat now, yes?"

You didn’t get the chance.

Before Beidou could land a finishing blow—or you could make peace with the idea of dying in a shrimp cave—arrows whistled through the air and glowing talismans lit up the walls. A dozen Liyue soldiers stormed the cave, shouting orders and binding the sea creature with geo chains.

Unfortunately, they bound you three as well.

---

"Let me get this straight," Ningguang said, pinching the bridge of her nose with all the patience of someone who'd very recently canceled a meeting with diplomats to deal with this.

"You trespassed on a forbidden island with full knowledge that it was under Liyue Qixing lockdown. You engaged in unauthorized combat with a sacred aquatic guardian, nearly triggered a tectonic collapse in the cave system itself, and were caught—and I quote—smuggling bao buns in your sleeves?”

You, still slightly damp and a little shellshocked, offered a weak smile from your chair in front of her. “They were for morale.”

Beidou, arms crossed and thoroughly unapologetic, grinned. “Would’ve worked too, if it weren’t for the state-sponsored cavalry.”

Ningguang turned her gaze on Beidou, cold as jade—but her lips twitched for a fraction of a second. She stood from behind her desk, walking slowly, precisely… before reaching forward to straighten the pirate captain’s collar. “You have got to stop dragging her into these disasters.”

“Oh please,” Beidou muttered, smirking as she leaned in a little too close. “She’s halfway to dragging me into them these days.”

“Only when food’s involved,” you added quickly, hands still tied behind your back. “I’ve got standards.”

Ningguang finally sighed, like she was exhaling centuries of secondhand chaos. Then she looked between the two of you, and something in her sternness softened—just a bit. “Honestly, the two of you are like a storm and a spark. It's a miracle Liyue Harbor hasn’t sunk yet.”

"I would never do that!" you blurted out defensively, stepping a little straighter. “I love Liyue — more than anyone else here, probably. I’m just… passionate.” you mumbled the last part silently, a tiny bit of guilt eating you away at causing trouble for Ningguang.

But you just wanted to have fun, staying cooped up inside your chambers in Celestia was no fun and all your friends were here!

Ningguang felt a rare flutter beneath her calm exterior. There was something disarming about your fierce defense, your unapologetic love for Liyue, and the way Beidou stood by your side with that roguish grin.

She admired it. More than she cared to admit.

And yet, beneath the stern admonishments and sharp words, she worried. For your safety, for Liyue’s future, and, selfishly, for her own heart that had already begun to entwine with yours both more deeply—and more precariously—than she dared confess.

You tried your best to look sorry. You really did. But she looked too good in her robes, and Beidou was still damp from sea spray and grinning like she was five minutes from pulling another stunt. And they both were too hot as they exchanged words like they were in a silent battle and you were so close to just poun-

“So… detention?” you asked hopefully with a pout and hopeful smile, hiding your... Naughty thoughts to yourself.

“You are to remain under watch in the Jade Chamber for the next 72 hours,” Ningguang said crisply as she stood up and she made a small, elegant gesture with her hand, and the geo restraints shimmered, then vanished with a polite snap. She looked at you with a soft look, an embroidered napkin on her hands as she wiped your face clean from the mud, not caring about your wetness at all.

You blinked. “Um… I can do that myse—”

She didn’t answer. Just dabbed gently at your jaw, her brows slightly furrowed, her focus entirely on your dirt-smeared face. She didn’t flinch at the saltwater dripping off your collar or the cave gunk still clinging to your sleeves.

If anything, she looked… concerned.

“It’s still warm out,” she murmured, more to herself. “You could’ve gotten sick, charging into a soaked cavern like that.”

You swallowed, caught somewhere between swooning and short-circuiting. Her hand, still holding the napkin, brushed your jaw a final time before she pulled back. Her fingers lingered just a moment too long.

Behind you, Beidou raised an eyebrow. “She never wiped my face when I dragged myself out of an exploding mine.”

Ningguang didn’t even glance her way. “You set it on fire."

“It was innovative!”

"And you are in need of a hot bath, clean clothes, and someone to supervise your decision-making for the next three days.”

Then, with terrifying grace, she turned and walked away again, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll have the finest silk robes waiting. Try not to ruin them within the first hour.”

You stood there, wide-eyed, mud half-wiped from your face, wondering how in the Seven you’d managed to get arrested, scolded, and very gently doted on—all in the span of twenty minutes.

“And no exploring, no treasure hunting, and no unauthorized cooking on the balcony.”

Beidou groaned. “She’s still mad about the grilled shrimp thing.”

“You set my curtains on fire.”

“It was one time!”

Ningguang turned to leave, her heels clicking on the marble as she commanded her assistants to prepare you a hot bath and clothes made of the finest silk in her personal chambers. Her voice was crisp, businesslike—but beneath it, there was that familiar, infuriating tenderness she always tried to conceal behind layers of elegance and authority.

You didn’t miss it. Neither did Beidou, who had raised an eyebrow the moment she heard “personal chambers.”

But just before the doors closed behind her, she paused. A deliberate halt, like the still moment before lightning strikes.

“And next time,” she added over her shoulder, voice velvety and sharp, “if either of you plan to run off and wrestle a sea god, at least invite me.”

The door shut with a graceful click.

You and Beidou looked at each other.

“… Was that... Did she just flirt... With us?" you whispered dumbfoundedly, a little bit dazed from Ningguang's allurimg perfume, and still blinking in the direction of the doors like they’d just parted to reveal Celestia itself "Holy me, I am about to get some..."

You turned to her, entirely serious, like you’d just been handed a divine revelation. “Did you see the way she looked back? That wasn't a scolding. That was a verbal touch wrapped in silk and power. And the bath? Her personal chambers? I’m about to be steamed, silked, and—”

"Okay—okay, calm down, you unhinged dumpling," she wheezed out, trying to hide her jealousy since she couldn't be with you... Even though she wouldn't mind sharing you and your attention.

“Oh, absolutely, she was,” Beidou grinned. “ But I am getting hungry..." She pouted and turned to you cutely, sending you a wink. “You still got those emergency buns?”

“I always have emergency buns.”

Chaos was inevitable. But so was affection. And maybe that’s just how your strange, explosive little trio worked.

"May I go now?"

Poor Kazuha, finding himself in the middle of his own crush and her throuple situationship...

[shatcey]

Okay, let's try… It's just a rough draft, but I like it.

The Diary of a Crown maid

(A little more then 600 words)

The first day

Today I finally found a job. I can't tell you how grateful I am to lord Victor, who hired me. He is a very nice person, very cheerful. And he knows sign language. I didn't expect this at all.

He personally showed me the castle and introduced me to other staff members. They all seem like nice people.

Lord Victor said something about secrecy… And that's why he only hires the deaf. I'm not sure what he meant by that, but I'm glad I have a job.

Several days later

I have a few questions. Many, many questions. For example, who are all these people? They are doesn't seem to connected with each other. They have different jobs, different schedules. There are three lords, but there is also a doctor and an actor. Why do they all live together? They all know sign language, it's very kind of them to be so attentive to our situation, but… I feel weird. It's like something's wrong. But I can't put my finger on it.

A week later

I washed their clothes and noticed red spots on Mr. Evans' clothes. I… could it be fake blood? He's an actor after all. But it took me a while to wash it.

And Mr. Twilight's clothes were stained with something… red. I… don't know what to think. Maria said, just do your job and don't think about it. Maybe she's right…

A month later

All this time, I followed Maria's advice and didn't pay attention to anything strange.

Not the way Lord Victor appears and disappears into thin air… Maybe he really is a magician. Some people have very strange sleeping habits during the day. I tried to enter the room to clean up, but it was locked. While dusting, I accidentally pushed something in the lounge, and a wall of guns appeared.… It took me a while to figure out how to hide it again. And the basement… I don't know what is there, and no one knows. I asked everyone… Mr. Barel won't let anyone in, says he can't be interrupted. Maybe he's not a doctor.… I'm starting to worry.

One more week later

The more I see, the more I start to doubt… Maybe they're killing people? And if they do… maybe I'll be one of their victims?

Maria said I had nothing to worry about. She has been working here for several years, and none of the staff has disappeared. And if I leave this place, I won't have any other options… So I should just stop overthinking…

But... I'm scared.

I'm afraid of everyone except Lord Rex. He is so kind… And he likes to chat. I'm so happy to have at least one normal person around.

Maybe I should ask him…

Next day after that

He said they work for the Queen and… do whatever she orders them to. So… this is an official job. I feel so relieved. Even if they do something bad, they do it to protect others. They are real heroes!

Now I feel stupid for being afraid of them.

Several more month later

They brought a woman from one of the missions.

I'm curious to know what she's doing here. She lives on the same floor as the men. Does this mean that she will help them with their work? It can be very dangerous… I hope they'll taking care of her.

She seems nice, but scared. She reminds me of myself. I want to calm her down, but she doesn't understand me. It's a little frustrating that we can't communicate.

Right… a note… I can write to her.

An hour later

She knew they were working on The Queen… But she's still afraid. It's so weird. Maybe I've been working here too long, so I don't understand how she could be scared. But I have no idea how to cheer her up. Maybe I should ask one of the men. They're all very nice, and I'm sure they'll find a way to help her.

I'll talk to Lord Rex. Maybe he'll recommend someone…

A few comments

So… she is not very attentive and smart. Victor had obviously told her from the very beginning what they were doing and who they were working for, but she hadn't paid attention to it. And as a result, she started to worry.

Maria is a maid from Harrison's route. And she knows what she's talking about.

Victor is a lord. I saw Ally call him that once (in the Chronicles). And I think the maids will think of him that way.

I love that William looks like the sweetest and most harmless of them all, especially considering that he really can do nothing with deaf people. And he's really chatty… my bestie☺️

I don't see what happened next, but… I'm sure it's already the beginning of the route.

Maybe I didn't push the dark thoughts hard enough. But to be honest, at some point I really felt weird… like I'm writing a horror movie script. So I decided to share the information with her so that she would stop worrying. Ally has too much influence on me.

Anyone can continue if they like. The topic is really interesting. The idea is to look at the story from a different perspective…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man imagen being crown's staff and having no idea why a group of 9 men not related by blood or jobs are living together that most of the nights if not all night go out in groups or alone and come back sometimes with blood and there's a laboratory with concoctions they have never seen and suddenly they brought a lady that for some reason is never alone and one of them has a whole wall of guns and shit...

[confuzing]

Street kid Luo Binghe makes the mistake of letting some weirdo get a hold of him and finds himself locked up in a windowless room somewhere.

The only bright spot in this shit situation is that there's another boy in there with him. Shen Yuan is clearly in considerably worse shape than Luo Binghe and he says he's been here for a very long time. But he's so kind to Binghe and deliberately draws their captor's attention to himself (and away from Binghe) whenever he can.

He also, after Binghe's been there about a month, steals their captor's keys, unlocks the restraints they're both in, and then shoves Binghe out the boarded up window he's been prying open when he had time.

Shen Yuan is too big to fit through the window, he says. They both know that's not true but they can also both hear that their captor is coming-he must have noticed the keys were missing- and Shen Yuan intends to stall him while Binghe gets away.

Binghe promises to come back with help and SY just smiles and nods and shoos him away.

He runs as fast as he can, and once he's far enough away from the house he escaped from he starts asking for help- but no one is listening to him. And he knows if he goes to the local guard he'll probably be handed back over as a runaway slave... And then he sees two men who both seen almost to shine in the dirty city streets... they must be cultivators, they must. If anyone can help him now it will be them. So Luo Binghe throws himself at the taller of the two men and starts begging for help.

Shen Qingqiu is absolutely positive this kid is trying to lure them into an ambush, but Yue Qingyuan- who invited himself along on SQQ's mission without asking him- doesn't think so.

YQY goes with LBH, and SQQ follows, complaining that this is a trick the whole way- up until they discover that yes actually the local nobleman does have a secret room he's been imprisoning children in and there is indeed an almost beaten to death SY in there.

YQY sends SQQ off with SY- gotta get that kid medical attention ASAP- while he and LBH stay behind to Politely Ask Some Questions.

When YQY and LBH arrive back at the sect SY is still in the medical ward but isn't dying and is even awake! LBH is relieved and refuses to leave him again.

YQY fills SQQ in that not only were both boys not slaves, SY was actually the son of the nobleman's first wife she had as the result of an affair. He disappeared from the household around the time the first wife died and all the servants assumed their Lord had sold the boy or killed him outright.

But now that the nobleman has died a sudden and painful and extremely mysterious death it looks like SY has inherited the estate. YQY will have someone from An Ding go sort out the details since SY can't.

SQQ watches YQY smile at the little urchins they've rescued and talk in a way that obviously means he intends them to stay and says, internally 'Fuck no Qi-ge you don't get to replace me with a Shen you actually did manage to save. Absolutely not!'

Out loud the conversation goes:

SQQ: I want the older boy.

YQY: What?

SQQ: You intend for them to stay right? I want the older boy for Qing Jing Peak, you can keep the little one if you want.

YQY, pleased and assuming SQQ and SY must have bonded while he and LBH were away: Of course.

SQQ and SY have not bonded, and once they get back to QJ Peak things are tense. SQQ is low-key kinda jealous of SY and also reminded much too much of himself by the boy. Except he was never as naive and stupid as this kid is! Why is he so nice? How?? And the little shit isn't even afraid of him!

SY, deeply sarcastic: Oh nooo. I'm going to be beaten? Such a thing has never happened to me before! *Coughs because his throat is permanently messed up from being nearly strangled to death*

SQQ, aware that if he hits the kid now he loses: You're not allowed in the library for a week.

SY: What!

SQQ: The next words out of your mouth better be "yes Shizun, sorry Shizun" or it'll be two weeks.

SY: ...yes Shizun, sorry Shizun.

Meanwhile LBH and YQY are having a magical adventure in becoming a found family and are bonding over their obsessions with their respective Shens. They absolutely come visit QJ Peak at least twice a week much to SQQ's displeasure and SY's delight.

[lolplatzhalter]

Thinking about a female reader in her thirties who always cries about not finding a man again since the ending of her last miserable relationship. Men her age are either married, emotionally unavailable, fuckboys or losers who think women hit the wall at 30.

One day she wants to drink herself stupid after work and gets pestered by our favorite besties Soap and Gaz who find her in a bar.

After asking for the fifth time what's wrong with their precious little secretary she bursts out and rants about dating, men and that she's going to die alone. Get the cats ready.

Gaz tries to comfort her by telling her that she's beautiful, intelligent and a very amazing person in general. She WILL find a good lad. :)

Johnny suggests changing her target group since she told them she set her age range to 30-40. Why not try out younger guys? He rambles about all the benefits - some are actually pretty tempting and some are... questionable. Like okay, Johnny, Baby, stop telling us how younger, more inexperienced men are able to go several rounds in bed and are easier to mold into your perfect future husband.

After his monologue she agrees to try out a younger guy (to get him to shut up) and promises that she will take the next pretty 20-something man home who hits on her.

Soap just grins and excuses himself for a few minutes. Meanwhile Gaz looks at her like do you understand what you just agreed to? She's confused until he asks

"how old do you think Johnny is?"

Soap returns with two drinks in his hand - one she recognizes as her favorite - and asks

Whit's a bonny wifie lik' ye daein' in a shady boozer lik' that?

With a cheesy grin of course. :-)

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙨! ♡︎

characters: sub!big men x gn!dom!reader

warnings: cock/strap/dick traditions, boob fucking, cumming on face, body, feminization, size difference, mentions of pregnancy, dumbification, lactation, feminine language used for the characters (princess, womb, maiden etc so pls tread with caution if that ain’t ur thing), read with optional bias character in mind

notes: nobu finally posting smt??????? nobu actually writing for once???????????? also this is just my obsession with boobs talking. dividers from cafekitsune. manga color tint by me

big men! with big chests that gets mistaken or joked of it being boobs by close friends and colleagues, who had gotten used to it. who at first used to get all blushy blushy but nowadays just shrugs it off with a disgruntled huff of “knock it off”

big men! who didn’t really see much problem when you started to favor their chest more, eventually opting to use them as a pillow rather than use your actual pillow since it gives them the advantage of falling asleep with you on top of them and they got to cuddle with you all night. a win-win situation in his book, as he could be quite clingy when behind closed doors. who laughs sometimes at the silliness of you smothering your face in between his chests, finding your obsession with his pecs to be endearing

big men! who didn’t realize how sensitive their chest could be until you decide to show it to them. squeezing, fondling the large muscles, tweaking his cute nipples occasionally and making him jolt in place with a cute blush covering his ears and cheeks. so adorable, like a meager bunny when he was nearly twice your size and could probably crush a grown man’s skull in with their hand

big men! who get so worked up over the dirty words you whisper when you pinch his hardened nipples, your words of “i could make your chest lactate”, “your boobs feel so heavy, darling”, “such a nice big tits you have” making him whine in the back of his throat, shaking his head as he shakily denies that “t-they’re not b-boobs… y-you nngh know that…”

big men! who gets manhandled by your smaller frame to lay on their backs, a cute surprised “eengk!” escaping his swollen lips as he looks up at you, pushing his tight shirt up until they’re resting over his chest, showing the big muscles you love so much. who cutely whine and wriggle in place under you as your fingers bully his hardened buds, pinching at the cute pinks, tugging on them before letting go, a noise of awe leaving your lips at the way his chest fucking jiggles while your bf could only jolt with words of “c-cruel… you’re so cruel to me. pu-unhh puppYAGH!”

big men! who get fucked stupid, brain churning into a mush by only having his nipples played with. pinched, tugged, even bitten till your fangs and teeth leaves a round mark closed around his areola that he slurs is too deep, acting like he is getting his tight hole spread open and fucked by your cock. whose face is so cutely flushed, eyes dazed over as he breathes heavily of “wan’ moowr.. ungh h-haah… annh♡︎ m-more please? touch me.. to-ouch me moore”

big men! who act like a sweet virgin who never got himself fucked by you when you kick off your pants, hardened cock already springing out and slapping against his cute boobs. who stare at your oozing tip with gaping mouth, letting out stuttered questions of “w-what… whaddaya doin’? h-hunny, noouw… no, don’t—♡︎!” before squealing when you squeeze his chest together, rutting your strap in between them

big men! who act like they have never seen your cock, never tasted it or even deep throated it before, acting like he never once took your dildo into his pretty hole until his legs shook as you fuck his boobs, moaning loudly like the cute bunny he is. who opens his mouth, jaw shaking as fat tears collect in his big doe eyes, messily sucking the tip, getting drunk on the taste of your pre already when you politely ask him to suck you off

big men! whose hands shakily grasp your ass, unintentionally helping you fuck their tits even more, pushing your strap even deeper inside his mouth as if he wanted you to just let go of their boobs and just fuck their throat instead. who lets out a cute confused noise, mouth full of your cock, batting his lashes up at you like the pretty little thing he is when you move his trembling hands to hold his boobs together instead of your ass. who tries to speak words of not knowing how to do it, still mouthful, as you give a tug to his cute bitten nipple, making him squeak

big men! who meagerly tries to fuck your cock in between his mounds, choking on your tip when you tilt his head down just enough so he could also suck you off, acting as if you just shoved your entire strap down his throat and was keeping it there, snuggly shutting him up. a whiny bf whose tears finally fall when you cum into his hot mouth, dropping of your cock when you came as if he was never drunk on the taste of your seeds before, letting some of it shoot over his face and hair instead. a hunky beast of a man, sniffling like a baby when he notices the mess you made of him, who dares to give you a half assed glare as if you forced him to make a mess

big men! who gets addicted to boob fucking after that one time thing, constantly thinking back on the feeling of squishing his own chest together to fuck your dick for you. whose hands finds themselves wandering to his pecs more often, pushing them together and moving them in soft round circles as if you would suddenly appear and fill the empty space between his boobs. who finds himself messing with his nipples over the tight fit of his shirt, finding himself to be perverted as he gets turned on by just fondling with his chest

big men! who, unable to keep teasing themselves anymore, start to touch themselves when you’re away on work or whatever. more specifically, their chests. rutting his clothed, hardened cock against a pillow that is squished between his thighs, tweaking at his nipples and tugging on them — just like how you do it — before letting go with a whimper. it hurt, but it also felt so good, he could feel his precum already wetting his boxers

big men! who finds out that his constant arousal by his nipples was a bad idea, as now every time he wears a tight shirt or compression vest, his nipples are rubbed and he finds himself getting horny. who, in desperation, decides to tenderly tape the cute pink nubs with a band aid, pouting to himself about how you were slowly but surely turning him into a perv

big men! who now finds it much easier to use his boobs to fuck you, quick to drop down to their knees in front of your clothed crotch, kissing the hidden thighs and inhaling at your natural scent with a love stricken look in their eyes. a cute, desperate bf who kisses your strap, rubbing you with his hands to try and get you hard as quick as possible. who hook their shirt over their chest, intentionally pushing his boobs together with his hands on his knees, creating the effect of round shaped breasts

big men! who impatiently watches until your cock is free, taking it into his mouth the moment you slide down your undergarments, suckling at the head just like how you enjoy it. who push you down to sit, so he could climb onto your lap, pushing his chest together so he could fuck your strap with his boobs, determined that now he had learned a good technique to make you feel good. who is quick to take the head of your dildo into his mouth, swiping the gathered pre with a pleased hum, looking up at your through his thick lashes with a drunken giggle before pulling away to spit on your hard on

big men! who drunkenly take the head of your strap into their hot mouth, suckling away at the delicious precum, unafraid to slobber all over your cock and his chest as he slowly moves the big muscles in a circular motion. who giggles in delight at your words of praise and groans, the tip of your cock that is still in his mouth vibrating with his drunk laughter. beefy bf who eagerly lap away at your cock head, slurping at the mess he made of his own drool and your precum before taking it back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks for you. only for you♡︎

big men! who pulls away again when you cum, watching with a cute mix of fascination and lewd anticipation as your hot cum shoots all over his jaws and chest, painting his skin in white. massaging your balls and stroking you through it all, opening his mouth slack as he stares up at you with hazed eyes, letting the last few drops shoot into his awaiting tongue, licking at his full lips with a pleasured hum. the salty, slightly sweet taste, a familiar one that he had gotten drunk on within the first round

big men! who straddle your lap, rubbing your wet strap on the round curve of his ass with a giddy giggle, feeling how the slippery wet tip doesn’t enter his tight hole without helping hands. finally, grasping at your dick with his hand, giving it a few strokes before pressing the tip against his entrance. your sweet bf who decide to be bold, sinking down onto your cock with one swift movement, a choked sob getting stuck in his throat at the sudden feeling of being “f-fughkk♥︎ a-aah haah mnngh♡︎ shooo fu-ull.. gut’s so ffuul of m-my [name]♥︎”

big men! who ride your dick all night, even as his muscles strain and his brain gets fucked into a stupid mush, slurring words of love and lust, saying all sorts of lewd things through his cum and drool covered pink lips as the kissable looking pair of muscles turn into a cute drunken smile. beefy big bf whose tits bounce all the while, their cute jiggles every time they sink down into your dick hypnotizing you to only focus on them. an adorable squeal escaping him as you tear away the band aids from his nipples, the stimulated nubs all hard and blush red as they greet you

big men! who squeeze their breast, forefinger and thumb squeezing around his nipple, as he grins at you with blown wide heart shaped eyes. “a-ain’t they cute…? dontcha wanna suck-unghk suck on them?” he asks, squishing his mound softly with a near delirious grin on his face. “come owwnn, don’t my [name] wanna taste my milk♡︎?”

big men! who lets out a pleased wet sob when you do give in, suckling, biting, squeezing at his jiggling boobs as he starts to bounce on your cock with a more fervent pace. who cries out at it being painful when you leave another teeth mark around his nub, one of his hands placed over his chest like one of the scared damsels in paintings. who slur out words of not being a damsel, of being a maiden, shaking his head as if he actually understood anything

big men! who gets their wombs filled with your cum for nth time that night, feeling his stomach start to bloat at the sheer amount he greedily took into his eager hole. fucked dumb bf who shakes his head at your words of getting off, refusing to lose the warmth in his stretched hole and filled stomach. who only notices when you pointed out, that his nipple was leaking, lactating a delicious white milk that dribbled down to his cum covered tummy. another drunk giggle follows, as he gets close to your ear to whisper a filthy slurred “now that i’m p-pregnant, my [name] better take responsibility♥︎”, having completely forgotten that he can’t get pregnant. but oh well, your beefy bf who is so adorable as he giddily speaks of carrying your young, rubbing at his belly with hearts swirling in his eyes, to the point you can’t bring yourself to correct him. only going slack on the couch with your sweet princess still on your lap

⇨ JOTUN LOKI, jiyan, diluc, alhaitham, CAPITANO, zhongli/rex lapis form, itto, wriothesley, JUNG YUAN, YINGXING, argenti, GALLAGHER, gepard, yhan, yuanwu, GLORFINDEL, maedhros, elu thingol, finarfin, FINROD, logan, thor, DIAVOLO, beelzebub, anubis (ennead), gyomei, YORIICHI, messmer the impaler + whoever you like!

[pellucid-constellations]

Crawling Back to You

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You broke up with Bucky months ago, but you can't stop calling him. He always picks up. He always comes to get you.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Some angst, exes to lovers, umm terrible men

a/n: Obviously inspired by the Hozier cover of Do I Wanna Know so maybe listen to that while you read (do it actually I'm commanding). Thank you for reading ily!! <3

Masterlist

~~

The sound of tires rounded out the weak remainder of sobs wracking your chest. You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hands as rubber crackled against the heated asphalt, but the action was pointless. The dampness only returned, tracking stickiness from your cheeks to your neck. 

The engine remained on as the car door opened and shut in quick succession. You kept your gaze downturned, catching the small rocks that probably got stuck in the soles of Bucky’s shoes as he crouched before you. The stairs you sat on whined in defiance as you shifted slightly, still too embarrassed to face him. 

“What happened?” he softly asked. 

A humorless laugh fell past your lips, tears salty on your tongue. “It’s so stupid.” 

“‘S not stupid,” Bucky refuted. He took your chin between two of his fingers and searched the planes of your face, his lips pulling back in short grimaces as he went. “Not when you’re crying like that.” 

You bit into your bottom lip as you faced him, tears continuing to fall even though the ache in your chest eased some. It shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have called Bucky. 

The sun was escaping from the horizon behind him, casting an orange-hued blaze reflected in the tall grass beyond decaying gas pumps. It was windy and so hot that the wind didn’t matter, dirt flying up and twirling by his puffing exhaust. 

“I shouldn’t have called,” you finally choked out, taking no action against the slide of his hand against your cheek. “You were busy. I know you were.” 

Bucky only glided his fingers along your skin in gentle shapes, tutted, and tried to catch the tears that met his skin. “Never too busy for you.” 

“This is crazy.” 

“It’s not.” 

“I’m the one who broke up with you.” 

“Aware of that. Unfortunately.” 

You let out a sort of disgruntled moan, mortification mingling with relief inside of you. You leaned into his palm and huffed a sigh, using the lone car traveling on the road as a distraction. With your hands in your lap, it was easy to pick at your cuticles and hide it, a habit Bucky had never gotten you to kick. 

“Tell me what happened,” Bucky tried again. “How’d you get out here?” 

The deteriorating gas station seemed to creak in response to his question, the old building minutes away from collapsing. You’d been surprised to find an older man actually working at the counter when you got dropped here. He’d let you use the phone, and, of course, you had Bucky’s number memorized. You’d had to hand the phone to the old man to get the coordinates of this place straight, and then Bucky had been on his way. 

At the memory of everything that had happened before that phone call, your mouth puckered in a fruitless attempt to keep tears at bay. You brushed Bucky’s hand away in favor of pressing your face into your palms and tucking forward. 

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” Bucky urged, moving his touch to the back of your head. “Couldn’t be that bad.” 

He spoke with a gentleness that you didn’t need—one that would only make you cry harder. 

There was a long pause, and then, “Someone hurt you?” 

You shot your head up at that, the several octaves his voice had lowered warning you of nothing good. “No,” you hurried. “No. Not… physically. Do you remember Josh?” 

Bucky’s hand ran back over your hair and landed on the juncture of your neck. His jaw flexed, and his eyebrow jumped, obviously unimpressed. “Idiot with the bike? The one with the tiny shorts?”

Your lips curled softly despite yourself. “Yeah, that one.” 

“How could I forget?” he smiled back, tucking his hands away from you and clasping them between his bent knees. You tried not to care about the loss. 

“Right, well, we were supposed to go on a road trip. We were going to visit his parents. But… well, he got a text while we were driving, and…” You stared up at the cloudless sky, the sun beating down on your misery. “And he’s been cheating on me. For a few weeks, maybe longer. When I brought it up—started getting angry—he pulled over and just… told me to get out.” 

“Bastard,” Bucky breathed out. “Leaving you here like this? I’ll kill him.” 

“You won’t,” you chastised, wiping your tears once more, sounding congested and sad and over it all. “It doesn’t matter, really. It never matters.” 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

Another sigh. You edged forward on the stairs, slotting both legs between his crouched ones, creating space where there hadn’t been. More dirt kicked up behind him, and the old man inside was screaming at the TV, banging plastic against old batteries, or something of the sort. 

It hurt to look at him. His eyes were asking so many questions, so much concern etched into the blues, but you never had the answers. Never had the right ones. 

“It was stupid to call you,” you reaffirmed, face inches from his. 

“It wasn’t—” 

“I always call you. It’s always you.” 

Bucky wet his drying lips. 

“And you always come,” you continued. “Do you remember when we broke up?” 

His brows came together, his eyes never leaving yours. “Of course I do.” 

“What’d I say?” 

“That I can’t put you first. That I try, but I need to heal first.” 

“Right,” you whispered, dirt whisking the word from the air. “Then—” you blinked as more tears coated your throat “—why can’t I stop thinking about you? Why does it never work?” 

Bucky’s expression fractured. He brought a knee down and captured your face in his hands, metal and warm skin overwhelming your senses. His eyes flitted between both of yours, brows furrowed impossibly tight. 

“I’m trying,” you stressed. “I’m trying to move on. To see other people. To give you space and time to heal. But it never works. I always—it always comes back to you.” 

“I don’t want you to move on,” Bucky said, desperate hands conveying his words. “The day you walked out the door was the worst day of my life.” 

You shot your gaze down in a plea for any of this to make sense. You had broken up for a reason, but right now, no reason seemed to take form. 

“But—”

“But you were right,” he interrupted, bringing your eyes back up to meet his. He looked so earnest, brows raised and eyes slightly wider to catch your attention. “Okay? You were right. ‘Course, I knew that. My girl’s right about everything, but I didn’t want you to be right.” 

Defeat made your muscles feel weak, deflating your shoulders and sending a new wave of uncomfortable sadness through you. Of course, you knew you were right. All those months ago, you had been so obviously right, but Bucky had fought so hard for you to be wrong. He never admitted to anything—until now. 

He had come to terms with it, then. 

You had dug your own grave. 

“Then why can’t I stop loving you?” you cried, the sound so aching it sent a crack through Bucky’s chest. He shook his head, but the motion was lost behind your blurred vision. You were so tired of crying. “I want to move on. I’ve been trying to but—” 

“Hey, baby, look at me, yeah?” Bucky hushed, repositioning his hands on your face if only to catch your attention. “I said you were right then. I needed the time. I needed to do right by you. I—I’ve been seeing people to help. I’ve been—making friends. The apartment’s got a bedframe now,” he added, tilting his head to offer you a smile. “I’ve been trying to be the man you need. I don’t want you to move on. Honestly, it’s been tearing my heart out to pick you up all these times.” 

Your chin trembled, but tears began to dry on your face. Bucky didn’t say more, but he continued to wipe the wetness from your cheeks and chin and jaw, searching your expression as he went. He looked pained, stressed. His car continued to run behind him and you were vaguely aware that this gas station might not actually have gas. 

“You got a bed frame?” you shakily asked. You grabbed his hands from your face, holding them in your lap instead. 

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky breathed out, looking down at your joined hands. 

“I didn’t know you even had a mattress.” 

“Needed one for when I got you back.” 

Your throat was dry, the wind a vicious attack against your quiet words. “Why haven’t you said anything?” 

“I was just happy you were calling. I didn’t care if it was to get you from these—” He paused, looking down to the divots his shoes made in the dirt before finding you once more. “Baby, I would’ve picked you up from bad dates for the rest of my life if it meant you were talking to me. Don’t stop loving me. Don’t move on.” 

An array of emotions were displayed on your face. You squeezed Bucky’s hands in your lap and leaned forward until your forehead was against his, eyes closing in contentment that didn’t match the scenario. A sign above you buzzed with low voltage electricity that would surely give out soon, the weak neon flickering in a violent sun. 

“Give me a chance,” Bucky pleaded. “Let me show you.” 

You fought the urge to laugh. “Bucky, I would have given you another chance months ago. You never asked.” 

You stayed there for a few more minutes, calming your racing heart in the stifling heat. This felt like starting over, but it also felt like comfort and familiarity and home. Bucky didn’t move until you did, only prying himself away when you leaned back and sniffed, eyeing the car behind him with puffy eyes. 

He looked upon you with a sickening adoration, cupping the side of your head as he placed a quick kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” 

You breathed out an okay as you stood and nodded your head, the motion dizzying with how much you had cried and how long you had sat on those splintering steps. He noticed—he always noticed, even when things weren’t great. 

Bucky held your face in his hands once more, but it felt different now. He kept you at a distance and stared at your face as he instructed, “I’m gonna run in and get you a water. Wait in the car with the air on.” 

“Hope you have cash,” you briefly smiled. “I don’t think he has a working cash register. Couldn’t buy water earlier.” 

Bucky shook his head slightly, a rueful smile in return. “Give me Josh’s address.”

[syncaleb]

── .✦ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 & 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 -> « link »

•caleb casually drops the “we’re dating” lie at school like it’s no big deal. he is tired of the guy who sends you ‘wanderer samples’, or the dude who comes over the house asking to ‘borrow’ your homework. besides, he is a senior, older than you — soon he will leave the school & his precious pipsqueak will get swamped by men. disgusting. the thought alone sends shivers down his spine.

“nah, i can’t go out saturday. got a date with my girl.” he hums to one of his friends in the basketball court, juniors are also here, perfect! he made sure to say it echoing enough that everyone hears it.

“…your girl?”

“yeah, the one i live with? the one who comes cheerin’ me up for my matches? the one who i share my soda can with? duh.” honestly? it’s not hard to believe at all, that you and caleb are a thing… people don’t even question it. the way you touch him like he’s yours, the way you depend on him…

•however — you find out when someone congratulates you on “finally making it official” and you’re just standing there like ?????

caleb comes up right after, sipping from his stupid juice box, his hand gently wrapping around your waist, gentle… so careful… but firm.

“oh, pips, did you not tell them yet?”

•he acts like your boyfriend in every possible way. carries your books. pulls your chair out. walks you to class. then again… when does he not? you don’t notice any significant changes in caleb’s behaviour. and you are too kind to embarrass him like that…

you: “stop it. i am old now i don’t need your help—“

him: “i’m committed to the bit. besides, you are old doesn’t mean i would stop being there for you?”

•he’s extra affectionate at school but still the same annoying menace at home.

he’ll poke your forehead and be like,

“my girlfriend’s so short i gotta bend to reach her thoughts.”

and then dodge your swing like he’s done it a million times.

•grandma’s suspicious but says nothing. just watches the two of you with a knowing look and a cup of tea like she’s watching a soap opera play out in her living room. josephine hater ™️ -> me.

•eventually — caleb starts keeping you close in crowded hallways. real possessive.

“watch it,” he says to a senior who brushed your shoulder. “my cupcake’s kinda delicate.”

you: “i’m literally not? i want to be a hunter you’re being a cornball!”

caleb: just ruffles your hair with his soft grin.

•he puts “girlfriend 💕” as your contact name in his phone. when you try to change it, he changes his lockscreen to a blurry selfie of you mid-yawn captioned: cute little pipsqueak

honestly you don’t understand where it comes from, or why caleb suddenly tells everyone he’s your boyfriend. but eventually, you couldn’t care less.

•one day, when he was making his fussy eater (you) some braised chicken wings — you confront him about the rumor; and he just shrugs. the usual avoidance plastered on his face.

“everyone already thinks it. why not just… go with it?”

you: “why would you do that?”

he goes, suddenly quiet, expressive in a somber and yearning way: “because i wanted it to be true.”

•and he doesn’t look smug or cocky. he looks… soft.

and maybe you’re thinking about how he always saves you the last cookie. or he does your laundry because you hate it, or that he gives you piggy-back rides home because you get sassy that your feet hurt, or that he brought you a movie prop from your favorite movie… or how he lets you sleep in his arms in the attic…

how he always hovers.

how he yells at the TV for you during horror movies.

-> maybe it doesn’t sound so fake after all.

maybe next monday, you grab his hand in the hallway. by yourself, and the shock on his face… is all you needed to know to understand the intensity of his feelings…

maybe this time, the rumor becomes real.

[littledes1re]

Hiii, i love your writing. Could you please do one where you and Joel just started dating. And maybe go to a little event or social gathering and he sees a lot of guys looking at you and talking to you and he gets jealous and sad. Thinking you deserve better, younger and he gets insecure. But you make sure he knows you love him. Thanks!!

My Old man

Warnings: Joel is insecure, Age gap!, lots of fluff!!!

It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way. Countless times when you two went out for dinner together or were invited to some event in Jackson, you were stared at. The staring was from young men who wanted to dance with you, who thought you were pretty, hot. But the other old men were staring too. And even the women. They spent the evening gossiping about how the hell you could have landed as a pretty young girl with an old geezer like Joel. Is he holding you hostage? Is he manipulating you? You'd heard it all.

But you never paid attention to this. You were happy with Joel, more than happy. All those other men in Jackson could never give you what Joel gives you.

But Joel still took it to heart.

The looks from others, the gossip. He knew this would happen after he held your hand and said he wanted to be with you. He had his doubts; he never thought you, a beautiful young woman, could ever love him. But you pushed those doubts away every time. You loved him more than anything in this world, and you showed him that, every day.

You saw his face. Pouting and eyebrows furrowed. Deep in thought. This event was a small dance, nothing serious. Joel didn't even want to go, but Maria insisted. Every time any of those men even glanced at you, he got jealous and had a sad face, that looked down on the ground, just thinking. You couldn't bear to look at it much longer.

"Maria, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well, so Joel and I are leaving early."

You worried Joel with that. He immediately set off alarm bells and asked you if you were okay. When you got home, the questions continued, but you had something else on your mind.

“You mr.miller gonna sit down and we will have a little talk about something.” His face was all confused while you pushed him gently down to the couch, making him sit down.

You sat down on the coffee table in front of him, his sweet eyes never leaving you, like an obedient puppy.

“Baby. My old man. There is nothing in this world that I want more than you. And only you.” You could see his face drop and even heart drop at that.

He sighed into the room, looked at you with a certain exhaustion, and sadness. Uncertainty. "Don't look at me like that, Joel. I mean it, and you should know it."

"Sweetheart, I—I just don't know what you see in me. Heck, these guys that look at you are all fit, they can go with you to those stupid events without whining about their backs, can keep up with you and they don’t have a past.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You sat up and gently sat down his lap, his cosy pullover hugging you just right.

“I can’t believe you think like that, joel. I don’t care about any of these guys. I don’t care about you ‘not being fit’ which is not true by the way—“ you stopped pointing at his crotch and winking, earning a chuckle from him.

“I don’t even want to go to these stupid events either, look— we went because of maria. Nothing more. Wanted to be home with my man and watch some stupid movies he loves so much.”

“Hey—they ain’t stupid.” He chuckled again.

“Yea yea, whatever. But this is what I really mean joel. Since I came to jackson you were the only one in my eyes. Didn’t care about your past, didn’t care about your back, didn’t care about the fact that you were grumpy—“

“Wait now you are putting extra things in there”

“Sh sh. Didn’t care about any other boys. I saw you and the way you handled things turned me on, your way of demanding, taking care of people, being so stubborn but also the kindest of them all. The one who came to my house because I skipped patrol one day and asked if I was okey.”

His sweet eyes turned glassy, as he held you on your hips and squeezed, letting out a little smile.

“You’re too good to me, baby.”

“Nah, it’s not being good, i’m telling the truth.” You nodded, gently stroking his hair, playing with his curls. “Of course, everything is going slower, of course there are things that you can’t actively do. But I love it just because of that. I enjoy slow evenings on the porch with you. I enjoy waking up late and drinking black coffee that tastes like poison—��� he let out a giggle.

“And I love your wood carvings, your handsome face, your white hair that suits you so much, that grumpy face you always make whenever you need to read something with your glasses.”

You looked into each other’s eyes, he leaned in and connected your lips.

“Can’t believe I have you, baby. My pretty girl.” He cupped your face softly, giving you a peck on your forehead.

“Promise me you are gonna stop having these thoughts about yourself.”

“Can’t really stop them, but I will try and do my best from letting them get me.” He whispered, nodding his head to you.

You put your forehead to his and looked into his beautiful brown eyes, the world around you going silent.

“I love you, joel.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @cuntyhunty22

[smileysuh]

dark protector

🌙 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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[storusangel]

STUDY SESSIONS

a/n: ohhhh my god, i finally finished this. it's been half finished for months but i did it!! hope you guys enjoy!

cw: fem!reader, dom!satosugu, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl), slight petplay (like if you squint really hard), fingering, manhandling, double vag pen., biting, squirting, creampie, oral f!receiving, overstim, aftercare, MINORS DNI

word count: 4.5k

satoru and suguru are the stars of your university.

they have it all — the looks, the grades, the girls (and guys). and in your shared BIO 141 class, better known as your human anatomy and physiology class, they’re known for being top of the class, never having failed an exam. you, however, have been falling behind in that said class. 

but it truly isn’t your fault. you can’t help that the two men sit at a perfect angle for you to gawk and stare at them for the entirety of class. yeah, it’s not your fault at all! in fact, it’s your stupid professor’s fault for placing the two pieces of eye candy directly in your line of view!

it’s tuesday again and your professor is rambling on about the limbic system or something of the sort. you don’t really comprehend what he’s saying because it seems the two pieces of eye candy have gotten matching tattoos. a dark betta fish on suguru’s right bicep and a lighter one on satoru’s left. 

you can’t help but let your mind wander to how those arms would look holding you up as they’re pounding into you. dirty words being whispered into your ear as you try your best to keep up with them. “such a good slut for u-“

your name being called out by your professor yanks you out of your trance. you blink twice, ripping your eyes of the two boys but not before they could catch you staring at them. 

“i asked you a question.”

“s-sorry professor” you wince at how silly you sound stuttering after being caught daydreaming in class.

your professor just sighs and instead of repeating his question, he tells you to stay after class to meet with him. you can feel the eyes of your classmates boring into you, the immature snickers make you want to go back to your dorm and stay there forever.

or better yet, go to satoru and suguru’s shared apartment and let them fuck the embarrassment away.

you shake your head in an attempt to refocus your attention. before you can tune in to what your professor has to say, you see satoru and suguru steal a quick glance at you and whisper to each other. 

“gojo and geto, i’d like you two after class as well”  

once more, the class erupts into whispering to their nearest friend before the professor regains their attention once and for all. you also stop your mind from wandering too far into your daydreams about what could happen after class and return your attention back to the professor who was clearly irritated. 

in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment, you head down to see your professor as soon as class ends to end the conversation before the two boys can tune in. 

“i assume you understand why i wanted to see you?” his voice is sharp, an underlying tone of dissatisfaction.

“yes sir, i know my grade in your class need some work but i will do my best to bring it up” 

his reply is quick. “i know you will because gojo and geto will be tutoring you.”

you truly don’t know how to feel. getting the chance to be around your crushes is both amazing and horrible. thinking about how they definitely know you’ve been staring at them every class makes you feel nauseous. thinking about being perceived isn’t your favorite thing, but thinking about how they’ll be around you, teaching you the course that you’ve completely missed out on due to your very vivid daydreams. 

“wait, what?” god, satoru’s voice sounded much sexier when it was right behind you. 

“you heard me. both of you will be helping her understand her classwork until the end of the semester.” and your professor's voice sounded much scarier when it was in right front of you. “i’ll know if you two have truly put enough effort in when i see her grade on our next exam.”

you’re too ashamed to make eye contact with the two boys, a wave of embarrassment flooding your face knowing that your two crushes now know your biggest academic insecurity. the room is silent until suguru speaks up, “okay, we’ll need your number though” yeah, suguru’s voice was just as sexy as satoru’s. 

you hear your name being called. you finally make eye contact. “sorry, what?” your voice is meek, smaller than you remember it to be. satoru laughs, “your number, sweetheart. so we can set a date for our sessions. you know, the tutoring ones?” satoru calling you sweetheart makes you want to implode, he has to know what he does to you. what they do to you. 

“oh, here” you leave as soon as you give them your number. suguru’s “we’ll text about planning later” giving you the greenlight to get the hell out of there before you somehow manage to embarrass yourself even further.

-

xxx-xxx-xxxx added you and xxx-xxx-xxxx into a chat

unknown: you free this weekend?

you: who is this???

unknown: aw man :( all that staring in class and you can’t even remember who we are, we’re hurt baby

- 

you stare at the message. okay. so you know who it is. and you also know that they know your grades are horrible because you’ve spent almost every class openly drooling over them. no big deal. it’s not like your sessions will be in a private area.

-

unknown: satoru and i talked, we think it’ll be best to tutor you at our place since there’ll be less distractions there.

-

okay then. you’ll just have to work on your nerves before this weekend. you have time. right now you’ll be using that time to try and get over the fact that satoru called you baby.

the next few days pass by a little too slow for your liking but soon you’re getting ready for your date with the two boys. wait, tutoring session with the two boys. you couldn’t help but dress up a little, adding a matching set underneath your skirt and blouse.

-

satoru: i’m outside, come out whenever you’re ready

you: coming out now! which car is yours?

satoru: you’ll know it when you see it ;)

-

you head out slightly confused but when you see a white corvette flashing its blinkers at you, you understand what satoru meant. before you reach his car, satoru gets out to open the door for you. the small giggle you let out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

a wave of confidence runs through your veins as you tell him he’s “quite the gentlemen” when he buckles your seatbelt for you before sitting in the driver's seat himself. his response is a quick wink and then you two are off to their apartment. you try not to stare too hard at him throughout the ride but you can’t help but let yourself indulge in a few glances that lasted longer than they should’ve.

soon enough you two have reached the apartment and satoru parks the car. this time you don’t hide your staring. his effortless moves have you squeezing your thighs together. why is this turning you on??? you have got to be ovulating. 

satoru calls out your name. “you ready?” you blink. “o-oh, yeah i’m ready.” he grins and unbuckles you before sliding out the car to open your door. their apartment is cleaner than you expected, and also way larger than you expected it to be. “you finally back satoru?” you turn around to see suguru in sweatpants and stark contrast to satoru’s shorts. “hi, thanks again for tutoring me” you say. they both let out a soft chuckle and suguru returns the greeting.

they show you to a room that you truly didn’t expect for them to have in their place. there’s a shelf stacked with different books and another bigger one beside it with their trophies. there are two desks but one of them is currently situated with three chairs. you’re deep in thought about how you would love to be bent over the desks as the two boys make you take them over and over and over again.

this time it’s suguru calling your name to draw you out of your daydream. “you can take a seat on the middle chair. do you have anything in specific that you need help understanding?” oh right, you came here to be tutored. “um, everything? well not like everything but maybe the latest subject? i haven’t had the time to actually go over the notes i took.” 

a lie, you didn’t take any notes. your notebook is filled with small doodles and occasionally a sentence from a slide the professor left on the screen for too long. you place your hands in your lap when the two boys take a seat on either side of you. “no need to be nervous, sweetheart. we’re here to help you.” satoru has got to know that him and his stupidly attractive voice aren’t helping you and you want to turn to suguru for help but he’s just as bad. “he’s right, pretty girl. you’ve got to relax, you won’t be able to remember anything when you’re shaking like that.”

to make it even worse, they each place a hand on your bare thighs. satoru rubs his soft fingers up and down while suguru squeezes your thigh gently before using a thumb to make circular motions in a single spot. you can feel your body heating up and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs together because it would make your want need for them way too obvious and quite frankly, you’re still embarrassed they caught you staring.

satoru makes eye contact with suguru, a silent communication between the two of them. he gives your thigh a gentle pat before he starts to speak. “do you work better with rewards, baby?” you turn to look at him. you aren’t sure what he means exactly and you’re feeling a little overstimulated by all the touching, the pet names, and their attention in general. you’re by no means a virgin, though you aren’t too far from it, but for some reason they make you so nervous you can’t think straight. 

suguru says your name in a voice that sounds like it’s reserved for scolding puppies but right now it just turns you on even more than you are. “answer satoru, he’s not big on being ignored” apparently you don’t turn your head fast enough because satoru’s hand moves from your thigh to grasp your face gently, but not too gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “he’s right, baby. i don’t want to be rough with you just yet. i’m gonna ask again and i expect an answer. would you like us to give you rewards?” despite his words being slightly threatening, you bite your lip to hold back a whine. you squeak out a “yes please” and return to suppressing your whines because suguru still has moved his hand further up your skirt, his fingers grazing dangerously close to your soaked slit. 

“good girl. now let's get started” satoru removes his hand from your jaw but suguru only moves his hand back down to your lower thigh, giving you one more squeeze. the tutoring session goes something like this; suguru and satoru take turns explaining different topics covered during your last class. once they’re done, satoru quizzes you. everytime you answer correctly, suguru moves his hand up and satoru praises you. but every time you fail to answer a question correctly or fast enough, suguru slips his hand away and satoru reminds you that “only smart girls get rewards”. 

this method seems to work because you’re starting to answer correctly more often until you’re only answering correctly and suguru’s fingers are grazing your panties. “oh, she’s soaked, satoru. i think this sweet thing deserves a bigger reward. she’s been listening so well” a small whimper leaves your lips and you turn your head to satoru, your eyes begging for something more than some light touches accompanied by a few praises. 

to prove his point even further you really do start to beg. “please satoru, i need it so bad. ‘ve been so good, please” you can tell it works because he immediately coos at you. “d’awh, i think she deserves a reward too, suguru. we should give it to her” and with that satoru leans in, pressing his lips into yours. his soft, pillowy lips against yours make you almost forget suguru’s hands are on your panties.

almost. 

suguru pulls your panties to the side, raking his middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting your slick. he traces them downwards before bringing them back up to circle around your clit once, twice, three times and then he repeats the process. once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough, he slips one in pumping and curling wasting no time before adding in a second one. 

kissing down your neck, satoru rips your blouse open and pushes your bra down. lithe fingers trace around your nipple making you arch into satoru. you let out a breathy moan into satoru’s mouth, followed by more whines when suguru adds a third finger and starts to scissor them to stretch you out. you can feel satoru smirk against your lips when you start to struggle to kiss back. 

satoru removes his mouth from you, drinking in the sight of you. the sweet, shy girl in their class who couldn’t help but keep her eyes off of the two boys. the same girl who struggled to keep eye contact and who was barely vocal when they were present is now writhing in their chair. your back arching into satoru, a silent plea for him to keep touching you. and your hips grinding on suguru’s fingers, begging him to keep going. 

and most importantly, your voice has finally found itself to be heard. your pleas of “can’t, ‘s too much” and “wan’ more, please don’t stop, please” echo throughout the room. satoru takes two of his own fingers and pats them on your lips, a signal for you to open your mouth. you comply, wishing they would keep praising you. as if he can hear your thoughts, satoru mutters a “atta girl” when he slips his fingers into your mouth. 

he lets them hit the back of your throat a few times and when you gag, he pulls them back. not entirely, but just enough so that you’re still drooling on them but aren’t entirely gagging. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion for some time and then he pulls them out. before you can even think about missing his fingers in your mouth, he moves them down to your clit, rubbing calculated circles. 

suguru moves his fingers faster, curling them upwards till they hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “i think our sweet girls about to cum, satoru” suguru breaks the silence between him and satoru. “i think so too” you can’t tell if it’s the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t there but you cum the second the two speak, your body shaking as they help you ride it out. suguru shallowly pumping his fingers in while satoru slows his circles on your clit. suguru leans in to give you a kiss, his lips doing most of the work as your body recovers from your mindblowing orgasm. 

you yelp into suguru’s mouth when satoru pats your clit a little too hard. you want to say something but he taps your clit one more time before watching more slick dribble out of your cunt and onto the chair. suguru is the first to speak. his lips trail towards your ear leaving soft kisses in each place he covers. “you did so well for us, sweetheart. how’re you feeling?” as he speaks, satoru wipes the tears from your eyes and rubs comforting circles on your cheek.

your heart throbs at the attention. you understand what suguru is asking; are you still up for more? or are you done for the time being? you bite your lip before you speak.

“m-more, please. want more. want both of you. please.” satoru places a gentle kiss on your lips. “you’re so good for us, baby. a perfect listener. you think you can take us both? you think your tight little hole can fit both of us?” you moan out loud at his words.

“i don’t know, satoru. she might not be able to handle us.” suguru’s teasing you and you know it, but you don’t care. the thought of them leaving you so wet and needy for them may have your cunt clenching on nothing but you think you might die if you don’t feel them stretching you out.

“nonono, please. please don’t. need it so bad. need you two so bad. wan’ your cocks in me, now. don’t care if it hurts” you think you might’ve broken them because now it’s them who can’t wait till you're done speaking. 

suguru stands up, dragging you up with him before he rips your panties off in one go. satoru, now standing behind you, is pushing your skirt as far up as it can go before pulling his dick out of his pants. suguru following his lead. 

they each keep one hand on a hip, keeping you upright. you feel satoru slip his dick between your folds from behind you, coating himself in your slick before pushing the tip into you. “oh, fuck. satoru, you’re so big” you hear suguru groan from in front of you. he’s using the same hand he fingered you with to stroke himself, waiting for you to adjust to satoru. 

satoru slowly pushes all the way in, stopping every inch or so when you let out a whine of discomfort. “breathe, baby. breathe” satoru may think he’s helping but his velvety voice in your ear is only turning you on more. your pussy doing anything but loosening up. after some time, you slowly grind your hips back onto him, letting him know you’re ready for him to move.

he starts with shallow thrusts and soon he’s going all the way back out before slamming his hips forward. your body shakes in their arms. you’re sure if they let go, you’d fall onto the floor. satoru’s pace doesn’t stay that way forever, though. you cry out a “s’toru, mo-move please” when you feel him slow his thrusts until he comes to a complete stop. 

“shhh, baby. suguru needs to feel you too, doesn’t he?” your eyes widen. you recall your words from earlier, you still want them more than anything but a feeling of uncertainty hits you. as if they can feel your unease, satoru nuzzles his nose into your neck while suguru rubs comforting circles into your hip. suguru gives you a kiss, wet and open mouthed. “you’ve been so good for us, yeah? we’ll take care of you” suguru whispers in your ear. his voice makes you clench harder around satoru.

you know satoru felt it because his mouth hasn’t left your neck and you can feel a grin spreading on his face. “we’ll go slow for you, sweetheart. you don’t need to do anything but be good for us. you can do that, right baby?” they wait for your response. though they’re both aching to be inside of you, they want to make sure you feel the same.

the room is silent when you speak. “p-please, wanna’ be your good girl” and they’re off. satoru stays still inside of you, instead moving one arm to wrap around your waist and his other hand to spread your pussy for suguru. “you gotta relax, sweet girl. there’s no way suguru’s gonna fit when you’re clenching down on me like that” suguru chuckles at the other man's words before he starts to squeeze his way in. satoru moves the fingers that were spreading you open to your clit, rubbing circles as suguru continues to push himself inside of you. 

your whines only get louder when they’re both finally inside of you. suguru is the first to speak. “you look so pretty like this. all stretched out on our dicks. i think we should keep her satoru.” satoru hums in agreement. “i think we should too. it’d be so nice to come home to her waiting so patiently for us to fuck her, take care of her” he lowers his voice adding a “and to love her” before you can process his words, satoru pulls all the way out and all the way back in. you let out a borderline pornographic moan and you feel them both twitch at the sound. 

“p-please move” you sniffle. and move they do. when suguru pulls out, satoru pushes in. and when satoru pulls out, suguru pushes in. the room filled with your whines and cries of “‘s too much”, “can’t take it”, and “wan’ more”. they do their best to give you everything you need. satoru uses a hand coated with your slick to make you face him so he can smash his lips against yours. 

he’s rough with his kiss. shoving his tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and pulling it out just so he can nibble on your lips. suguru, on the other hand, has made himself busy with your neck. he leaves bite marks wherever he can, kissing the same area he bit softly as if he was soothing the pain. “ha-harder”

satoru breaks the kiss with a groan. “our girl is so greedy, suguru. should we give her what she wants? i’m not sure i heard a please” suguru, still busy with your neck, grunts softly in feigned disappointment. “i thought we had trained her better than that. maybe we shouldn’t give it to her” you shake your head at their words “no! n-no please. i’m sor-ry, i’ll be good. don’ stop, please”

this seems to satisfy them because they listen. and they listen well. they not only move harder, but somehow deeper too. suguru has one of your legs lifted in the air while satoru keeps you steady at your waist. your moans get louder and louder, a warning that you’re getting close. you know satoru and suguru are aware but you know better than to cum without asking. 

“c-can i? please ‘ve been so good, wanna cum s-so bad” you’re practically sobbing and they can feel themselves throbbing around you. satoru kisses your cheek and says something along the lines of “you can cum, baby” but you aren’t listening because suguru bit that spot on your neck and satoru hit that spot in your cunt and you’re seeing stars when you squirt on them. 

they only get in a few more thrusts before they fill you up with their cum. “holy shit” satoru chuckles “didn’t know you were a squirter, baby” you whine out in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in your hands but you feel too tired to do anything.  

you whimper when suguru pulls out, followed by satoru. the feeling of being empty being foreign after being stuffed so full. suguru carefully places your leg down, making sure satoru is still holding you up. you’re not sure what he has planned because he has that stupid grin on his face that he and satoru share when they’re about to do something devious. 

when around forty seconds have passed and the only thing that’s happened is satoru leaving wet kisses along your back, you think you’re in the clear but your legs being moved. each one gently placed on the shoulder of a very handsome suguru who is currently on his knees between your legs. you want to protest, tell them you’re still recovering from the last orgasm but suguru presses a kiss to your clit. 

the constant stimulation has your clit protruding out, begging for attention, so how could he not kiss it some more? the sounds from between your legs are no less than obscene. suguru is groaning into your cunt. he kisses, sucks, bites, and you would be a fucking liar to say that it doesn’t feel as good as it hurts. “you have the sweetest pussy, pretty” he moans out between kisses “tastes so good”

satoru thinks he’s going to go insane. he would much rather be between your legs but he knows there’ll be more chances for him to do so in the future. for now, he’ll focus on pressing those kisses you seem to love on your back and neck while using one hand to show each of your tits equal amounts of attention. and also whispering dirty words into your ear that only shove you closer and closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. 

“does suguru’s tongue feel good, baby? you like being used by us? you wanna come all over his face like a good girl?” you do. you want to be nothing but the best for them. you wish they would never stop praising you. “y-yes, fuck, wanna be your good girl. wan’ to cum so bad, please can i?” you know nothing of pride, you only know suguru and satoru are making you feel so good that you can barely remember your own name.

it’s only when suguru says your name in that rough voice of his before telling you to come that you remember. you cum hard on his face, his mouth never stopping but only slowing down and moving to place gentle kisses on your clit. “you did so well for us, sweetheart” satoru moves his hands up and down your sides to sooth your trembling body. when suguru leaves to grab a washcloth to clean you up, satoru is still whispering comforting praises into your ear. he backs up to sit himself in a chair and tugs you into his lap. “shhh, it’s okay, baby. i got you”

suguru returns with a wet washcloth. “can you open up for me, pretty? jus’ gonna clean you, nothing else” satoru knows your body is capable of moving just yet so he takes your whine as the okay for him to spread you open for his friend. once suguru’s done, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

suguru dresses you in one of his oversized shirts before satoru takes you to his bed. they let you sleep while they clean themselves up before joining you in bed as well. you wake up later that night to two sleeping boys and an ache between your legs. they each are touching you in their own ways, suguru nuzzled into your neck and satoru’s hand wrapped possessively around your waist. you find yourself drifting back into sleep and the next time you wake up, there’s a note on the bedside table.

“we stepped out for a bit but we’ll be back soon with breakfast, baby ;)” 

-

tuesday comes by again once more and this time you’re the only one staying behind. the past three days have been spent “studying” at suguru and satoru’s place and you’re finally ready to hear about your test results from your professor. when he returns your paper, you know there’s only one thing to do.

you text the two boys a picture of your grade on your exam making sure the big 98% written on top of a “nice work!” is clearly shown.

-you: i think i deserve a reward

©storusangel. any and all forms of modifications, reposts, and translation of my work are prohibited.

[yanderenightmare]

how is our little playboy bunny navigating all her apex predator clientele, I wonder

♡ AN: from the Promptlist

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, hyrbid au, sex club, sex worker reader dystopian laws, subjugation

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: Playboy Bunny

A run-down of your usual clientele?

Your most regular visitors are wolves. They come in big packs of dozens at a time. Cops. Dirty cops. They usually book a private room so that they can be as rambunctious as they want, leaving their guns and badges out on the table just to remind you of who they are.

They like their drinks bitter, their cigars fat, their stakes rare, and usually wind up depriving you of your leotard sometime during the evening when making you sit on their blue laps, passing you around between them as if you were just another piece of meat for them to share.

They can get quite loud and heavyhanded and don’t tip very well, either. So, they’re not your favorite clients. Their fur is also rough and unkempt, and after catering to all their knots, you spend the entire night tossing and turning, trying to dispel all the cum they leave in your womb.

But you know, at least they’re straightforward.

The felines are harder to read. Dogs are dogs for the most part—except for foxes—but big cats differ greatly from one another. 

Lions mostly ignore you as they talk amongst themselves. Politicians, most of them. Congressmen, senators, and such. Their manes are always slicked back with gel, soft and smooth, all dressed in expensive suits steeped in cologne.

They keep you on their lap with a paw on your ass, sometimes squeezing your tail. They just want you to hold their drink and bring it up to their lips when they give you a bounce.

It’s honestly rare for them to do much else than ask you to fetch stuff like more ice or cigars. But sometimes one or two of them will have you join them someplace private. They’ll talk about the wife they have at home. Sharp-toothed and long-clawed and never in the mood to fuck anymore.

They volley with their praise, telling you how soft and sweet you are, such a good bunny rabbit for them, then switching it up with sneers, calling you a slutty little cotton-tail whore.

They scare you.

Jaguars and leopards are a bit different. Wallstreet brokers.

They’ll smooth-talk to you. Heavy on the compliments. Flirting with you and smiling when they make you blush or giggle nervously. They like that—selling it, making you want their touch.

Oh, and when they’ve gotten you really flushed and hooked, they’ll groom you. Using their sand-textured tongue to lap up all that sweet-smelling nervousness like you’re a desert. Kneading your soft parts like you’re their own personal stress-toy. 

But felines are great tippers, even those who don’t use you much. You think they see it as a status thing. 

Birds of prey are the same. They like to talk. Or, talk is a generous term. They’re vain creatures and will mostly ask for your opinion on their plumage and how you like their feathers—if they aren’t just the most magnificent wings you’ve ever seen in your life.

It took you a while to understand them—what type of money they were—but if the tattoos they keep on their skin are any tell, your guess is mafia.

Funny enough, they seem like one of the less dangerous types of clientele you have. They just like having fun for the most of it, always asking you to kiss their rings before they throw the dice. They’re all gambling habits and signed deals, trying to act as sophisticated as possible, even when they’ve all got freshly bloody knuckles on each visit.

But you’re a well-trained bunny, always sitting pretty and never ever asking a single stupid question that might get you in trouble.

Then there’s the hyenas, of course. They find work where they’re wanted. Candy men and loansharks, but mostly just muscle for the real mobsters.

They also come in packs and take a little too many party drugs. Always left drooling all over you, eyes blown wide and bloodshot, rutting as if they’re competing over who can do you fastest or who can do it the most times—you can’t tell—teeth bared as they sink their claws a little too deep into your flesh, almost hard enough to tear your coat and definitely enough to leave spots the boss won’t be pleased to see.

They’re bad with money and are often chased out and banned from coming again. But they have ways of earning their keep, and somehow, they’re always pardoned after a week or two and welcomed back with open arms.

And speaking of being begrudgingly welcomed. Foxes are usually considered runts—not true apex predators, but they're still allowed entry for dubious reasons.

They’re romantic, coming to the establishment in tailored suits and fresh haircuts. Yeah, they might come across as clean, but in truth, they’re scavengers who fight tooth and nail for their cut of the steak.

Blackmailers and extortionists who pawn themselves off as good-faith advisors, meanwhile running their own organization with private investigations going in every direction, always dealing in confidential information they’re not supposed to know.

They're not entirely accepted by the others but are seen for their value nonetheless, if not out of respect and fear.

A strange species, you'd say. They can play well with anyone, not just canines, making it their mission to secure a favor amongst all the big names. Silver-tongued yet sleazy all the same.

You never know what their agenda is—telling you they’ll take you away somewhere, lavish you with the lifestyle you deserve. But you know they’re just trying to get you to spill on your other clients. Surely you must have heard something interesting?

You just smile and play dumb like always—you’re just a bunny, after all, what were they expecting?

Then there are the reptiles—crocs, gators, and snakes. Lawyers, the lot of them. High-profile lawyers.

You have that in common, you suppose. All their clients are your clients, after all.

They like to boast about their winnings. Make you say, “Oh wow!” and “No way, really?”

Oh, and they love to strangle. They’re maybe the most eccentric species you serve—and the most taxing. They’ll slither their tongue in your ear, keeping their hand around your throat, feeling you kick and struggle beneath them, watching your eyes roll back as they nearly squeeze you free of life.

Somehow, they always know the exact moment to let go. And at that point, they’ve achieved their high. Paying double what they’re owed as if in shame before leaving.

Suppose some types enjoy playing with their food more than eating it.

Lastly, there’s the boss. Big Bear.

He calls himself a businessman, but he’s really just a glorified pimp.

He’s begun taking you off floor duty in favor of having you for himself. He’s always had favorites, you’re told. If you play your cards right, he might just add you to his personal harem.

You try your best to cater to him, but his grizzly cock makes your hips feel as if their dislocating each time you take him, not to mention the way he leaves you completely bedridden, feeling like the spoils of a hunt. 

But unfortunately for you, despite your incompetence, he seems to have taken a liking to you.

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist