#ah yes i remember the last one like it was yesterday

[fazcinatingblog]

Happy CPA results eve

[rodeorun]

love in the dark.

yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.

cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ��️

MDNI.

“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.

One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?

He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.

‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’

Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)

You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.

A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’

And you always were.

No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?

“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”

Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.

“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”

“Sorry, Elias.”

Glittering eyelids opened themselves.

“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.

Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!

Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.

“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.

“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”

The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.

‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.

So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?

How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-

“Eli?”

“Yes, my beloved?”

You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”

Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.

“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”

A single drink.

That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.

“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.

“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.

“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.

It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.

“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.

“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”

Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.

“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.

You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.

“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”

Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.

“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.

This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.

It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’

And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?

“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”

He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.

He was met with silence.

“Darling?”

Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.

“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”

His heart froze in his chest.

“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”

You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.

His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.

“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”

“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”

Something below his belt started stirring.

“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.

The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.

First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.

“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.

“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”

Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.

All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.

“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”

“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”

Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”

He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.

“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”

“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”

By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.

“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”

That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.

Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.

“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”

You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.

“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”

Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.

Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.

“Eli? A-Are you okay?”

What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.

“It's not all out.”

“Huh? I don't understand-”

“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.

The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.

“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.

Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”

Silence.

“Darling?”

Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”

“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.

There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.

Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”

What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!

“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.

“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”

You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.

“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”

“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.

“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”

He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?

“Right,” you said, unsure.

“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”

“I don't think we should be-”

“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”

“No! I really don't know what happened!”

“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.

“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”

Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!

It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.

He was your secret lover.

“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!

Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.

Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!

Hmm..

Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.

‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’

Not even moment later, his phone rang.

“Hey, Elias?”

“Eli,” he corrected.

“Yeah, can you not-”

“Eli.”

“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”

A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.

“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”

“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”

“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.

“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”

“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.

“I have to go now,” you whispered.

“I love you, darling.”

“Yes, he's coming so-”

“I said I love you!”

“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”

Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.

It was only a matter of time now.

a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo

Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗

Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!

[totalswag]

just cause flowers ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note i have a new theme for this year, i hope you guys like it. i've been going back an forth about a new theme (i like how it came out). this came into my mind yesterday and it just sounded so cute that i needed to write it. i love writing soft!rafe. hope you lovies enjoy reading. feedback is always appreciated!

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary rafe, your boyfriend, coming to your house randomly surprising you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite snacks.

warning(s) a whole lotta sweetness.

If someone asked you to count on your fingers how many times Rafe arrived at your house with a bouquet of flowers, jewelry, and handful of your favorite snacks. You could lose track of the count. One of his love languages is gift-giving. 

Rafe impacted your life in ways you cannot articulate. Rafe considers you the most significant woman in the world. He makes you feel cherished, valued, and understood.

You're not sure how you got so lucky with someone like Rafe. He consistently treats you nicely and makes you happy, even on your worst days. Every day, you tell him how grateful you are for him.

Rafe will show up with something in his hand whenever you two are together. You remember your first date he brought you to this beautiful restaurant on the island then you two walked on the beach for half an hour till it was time for you to go home.

As you dig through the fridge, you yell, "Scarlett, you have to spill the tea!" while holding the phone to your ear and shoulder, eager to hear what she's about to say.

Your best friend, Scarlett, told you about this guy she's been seeing for a while. They went on a date last night and you've been waiting to hear what happened.

Scarlett tells you it went good, she really likes him. Towards the end of their date when he was dropping her off at her house, he asked to kiss her.

"That's so cute, I'm so happy for you," you reply, feeling thrilled for your best friend. "Have you texted since then?" You inquire with curiosity.

"Yes, he wants to see me again," she exclaims over the phone, thrilled that this is even happening.

The phone call lasted for another thirty minutes. Following the call, you finished your food, cleaned the bowl, and walked into the living room to watch a show on Netflix. Your parents are at work right now, so you are at home alone.

In the middle of the show, your phone buzzed on your lap.

Rafe: come outside princess

Y/N: kk coming

As you stood up from the couch, you felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach. You grab your Crocs, put them on, and open the front door. Rafe was there, one hand holding a beautiful arrangement of flowers and the other holding all of your favorite munchies and one of his sweaters.

Get down on one knee now, Rafe.

Your palm covers your lips, slowly walking over to view what's in-front of you, "you've got to be kidding me," smiling before leaning in and smelling the flowers, which smelled fantastic.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I'm not kidding, princess," appreciating your expressions before going in for a passionate kiss on the lips.

"These are beautiful baby, thank you so much" you beam with such gratefulness scanning through the basket of snacks then grabbing the flowers, smelling them again.

You swiftly glance at Rafe before turning your attention to the big sweatshirt draped over his arm behind the basket. Carefully reaching for the mystery sweater, your eyes will light up as you unfold it. It smells just like him and is one of your favorite hoodies of his.

You smirk and clutch it against your chest, cuddling it. "Ah you shouldn't have," you remark cynically. "This is added to my millions of sweatshirts of yours."

Rafe throws his head back laughing at your comment knowing you steal majority of his clothes from his closet. He doesn't mind it.

"Anything for my gorgeous girlfriend who'm I love so much" Rafe smiles sweetly placing multiple kisses on your face⎯you giggle out loud feeling like a teenager all over again.

He pulls away, lips running over his bottom lip, both hands on your hips, keeping you close to him. All he can do is admire what's in front of him⎯you looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and smile.

"Let's go inside?" You wiggle your brow as you motion to the house. 

Rafe responds by nodding, turning you around with his large hands and following closely after you.

"You know the moment you propose to me, I will probably faint," you say honestly, causing Rafe to chuckle out loud as he closes the front door. 

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[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[icarusredwings]

Do you guys ever think about dementia Charles seeing Pietro and getting sad or becoming really happy because his poor mind connects the dots that he's Erik? It dosn't compute that this wouldn't be Erik because hes too young to be Erik rather assuming that he is young Erik and not exactly having the logic to understand that they are so differently aged.

"Oh! My old friend, you've gotten a haircut. Quite bold of you. It makes you look much younger."

".. yeah, yeah, old man.." he mutters, trying to avoid him best he can, but sometimes, when the others are busy, he can't stand to leave him alone. Coming to sit with him just to litsen to him gab about random nonsense, talking so fondly about his X-men and memories dear to him.

"Do you remember?"

"Do I remember what?"

"When Jean got her first bad grade and she cried to you about how cruel I was to her." He chuckles softly. "And all she got was a B-"

Pietro stares at him like he's crazy. Jean cried to his father? But why? He had his own children to take care of. So why would he treat her like that? It makes him a bit angry. "No.. I don't. What else?"

"Hm?"

"What else happened? With jean and my da- erm. Me."

"I believe it's Jean and I." He corrects his grammer, making the younger man roll his eyes in annoyance. Once a professor always a professor I guess.

"Sure. Jean and I.."

"You acussed me of being too hard on her, but when I explained it, you laughed... I haven't seen you laugh like that in so long.." It's sort of now that Charles remembers what's going on. Who he's talking to.

"..Im sorry. Who are you again?"

"Well you like to call me speedster."

"Pft. No I do not. Mr. Maximoff.. you've grown so big since the last time ive seen you."

'You just saw me yesterday' he thinks but makes that awkward smile and nods. "Yup.."

"Youll have to forgive me. Im not always.... here."

"I know.. are you alright?"

He shrugs in his chair. "About as alright as anyone could be in my situation." Ah yes. The paralyzed old bald man who was losing his mind still had jokes. Funny. But sad. He remembered him being so similar and yet.. so different.

It's not long before Jean comes to give him his medicine again, convincing him that it was for the kid's saftey. "You don't want to hurt them. Do you, Charles?"

"No... but I'm not that gone yet. I can decide when it's best to take my medication."

She smiles so sweetly at him. "Professor, you made this time schedule yourself. Im just doing what you told me. You always knew best for us."

"Oh.. well, alright then."

Before Jean can walk away, He stares at her.

"....Why did my father like you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Charles... he said.." He trails off, not sure how to say it without talking too quickly.

"He said you cried to my father. And.. he defended you."

Jean tilts her head. "I wouldn't say defended. I was just a child having a fit." She admits then shifts, looking at the walls as if remembering.

".. He was here a lot.. and then he just.. stopped coming. Im sorry. I don't know why. Like I said I was just-"

"Didyoureadhismind?"

"Uhm.. just a couple times."

"Jean used to con you into getting her ice cream." Charles smiles, closing his eyes, reminiscing.

"He.. got you ice cream?"

Jean's not dumb. She understands his frustrations, glancing at the old man and then to Pietro again. "Like I said.. I was just a kid.. I was just excited to be able to use my powers. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't even know he had other children."

"...He never got us ice cream.. he didn't even bother sign my birth certificate.."

"Im sorry, Peter... Professor? Tonights dinner is potatoes gravy turkey with apple sauce. Remys making it so it might be a little spicy."

"Oh, that's alright. He means well. Erm.. thats the blue one right?"

Jean snorts. "No Professor. He's the card one."

"Oooh yes. Reeemmyy... right." He says his name slowly as if trying to connect 'the card one' to 'Remy' in his brain.

"...Bye Peter." She says, now awkwardly leaving.

"Remys that rat from the cooking movie" Pietro whispers and Charles' eyebrows raise. "Ahhh! Remy! That's right."

He might be an x-men. But he could still pull a little evil here and there.

[giuliettagaltieri]

A Very Bad Day

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Everything burns right before the eyes of Charles Leclerc.

Warning: Swearing and intoxication

Word Count: 2996

Chapter: 1

Charles Leclerc couldn’t quite grasp how his life could turn a total 180 in the last 24 hours.  Over the phone, his girlfriend broke up with him.  Ferrari decided to void the contract after he got drunk at some bar.  And now, he has no idea where he is as he hops on one leg, trying to get the other foot inside his pants as he runs away from a hysterical woman he didn’t know.

And to put the cherry on top, his foot got caught on a table and he came plummeting down on the hardwood.

“Ah fuck.”

Yesterday started like any other day.  Nothing conspicuous about it.  Charles woke up in his apartment in Monaco.  His still droopy eyes stare out at the busy streets and tall buildings of Monte Carlo.  Charles scratches his hip, yawning.

Excited barks soon echoed around the room and he didn’t even need to look to know who it was.  His lips quirk to a smile.  “Morning to you too, pal.”  The goofy dog kept his owner’s attention for the next five minutes before Charles had to have his breakfast.

The man was simply trying not to burn his sunny side up eggs when he got a call from Alexandra.  Charles smiles, which quickly disappears as he tries to avoid a splatter of oil.  

“Charles?”

He inhales deeply.  “Since when was I Charles to you? I’m caro-”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t just do this anymore.”  Alexandra sobs from the other line.

Charles scratches his head.  “What, you want to find another petname?”  He chuckles awkwardly.

“I just…I want you to understand that it’s not you, okay?”

Damn.

Well, this is it.  He thought.

“You breaking up with me or something?”  Charles mumbles as he switches off the stove when the bottom of the egg starts burning.  Alexandra sobs again from the other line.  “You could’ve done it in person, you know.  Like how a decent person should.”

Alexandra was silent and Charles used the spatula to try and salvage the egg which stuck to the pan, its burnt stench made Charles step back and sit on the chair.  He runs a hand over his face.

“Hello.”

“Listen.”  Her voice is much stable this time, making Charles think if she really had been crying thirty seconds ago.  “I really can’t see any future in this relationship.  We should start seeing other people.”

Charles starts swinging the spatula lazily, his eyes now drained.  “Well, I can’t exactly stop you if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Charles.”  Alexandra responds a little softly this time, fooling him for a second that this was just another phonecall they have everyday.  Or was it every week?  Charles can’t remember as their relationship has been getting more dull and dull.  “I’m really sorry.  I tried to resist him for months but you just can’t…give me the love that I want and I want to end it between us before I start another relationship.”

So there is another man.  Charles nods somberly, forgetting that Alexandra can’t see him.  “Yes.  Thank you for being honest…you sure he’s a good man?”  Despite his relationship with Alexandra losing its flame, she was still his girlfriend once.

He hears the smile in Alexandra’s voice.  “He is really kind.  He has a daughter whom I love very much.”

“Yeah?”  Charles tries to sound cheerful for her sake, his eyes following the slow drip of the oil from the head of the spatula.

“Yeah!  He can be really busy with his mining company so I get to spend time with her a lot.”

“Good for you.”  His jaw ticks.  “I don’t appreciate you spending time with him while we were still together but I’m glad you broke up with me before you started dating the man.”

Alexandra sighs gratefully from the other line.  “Thanks, Charles.  I knew you’d understand.  What we had, it was good…but it was not going anywhere.  I’ll still come to watch you race though, see you around.”

Charles thinks it is better if she didn’t.  Leo paws at his leg but Charles can’t bother to do anything but scratch behind his ears sluggishly.  

What kind of person breaks up over the phone?  He was so good to her too, getting her anything a girlfriend could want.  Charles was a busy guy but he tried to make it work with her, spending time with her anytime he could.

This wasn’t how he planned his Saturday to start at all.  Charles can already think of the headlines surfacing in the internet soon.

His PR team would kill him.

Well, it’s not entirely his fault.  They can’t pin this on him.

Although the next thing that would happen that day would totally be his fault.

Charles really tried to keep the whole drinking and getting wasted part in his own apartment but the half empty bottles he kept stocked on his mini bar weren’t doing their job.  So he went with the next best thing.  Go get hammered in a bar.

He could have sworn he only had a few glasses.  How was he supposed to know the alcohol content in those drinks were beyond the roof?  That’s what he gets for ordering drinks he has never heard before in his entire life.

It couldn’t have been Alexandra that caused this much of an impact on Charles that he’d go out his way and get shitfaced in some bar where anybody with a phone could post him on social media.  He gulps down his drink, giving up on the puzzle he had no intentions in solving in the first place.

The bar was getting too cramped and Charles felt like he was fighting for every gulp of air.  He had to get out.  Which was a bad idea.  He could barely hold up his own weight, let alone walk.  Charles was stumbling to every person that passed by him in the busy streets of Monaco, he’s yet to be recognized thanks to his cap but he knows this won’t end well.

Next thing he knows, he is being thrown inside a car, the absence of street lights blinding him, the sudden change in colors disorienting him.  Loud voices of people he should know echo around the cramped car.  Someone he recognizes from his PR team is beside him, there’s another one in the passenger seat, trying to talk to him, trying to get his attention but Charles can’t peel his eyes off the floor.  He’s sobering up bit by bit now.  He hears his name being called over and over but he doesn’t respond, not even when somebody holds him by his collar.  

Questions are thrown his way and he can’t even process a single one before another is being thrown at him again.  They keep asking what has gotten into him.  What happened between him and Alexandra that she had to reveal publicly that their relationship was over.  They have no business in prying in that matter.  They repeatedly fume that he could have been arrested for public intoxication had they not gotten there on time.

The car comes to an abrupt halt, sending him forward.  Hands grip him under his armpits and he’s being forced out of the car and on his feet.  Charles doesn’t even know if it’s him making the steps or he’s simply being dragged.  He’s made to sit on the couch and he recognizes his own apartment.  He sees Leo growling at the people who invaded his home.  Charles hunches on the couch, his hands raking on his hair.

Was he stupid?

He is a Formula 1 driver for goodness sake!

It wasn’t easy to deduce that this would harm his career.  A blotch on his record.  Forever known as the Formula 1 driver who was intoxicated in the streets of Monaco, and it was barely even evening!  A fucking embarrassment is what he is.

A loud ringtone echoes and he hears the brief exchange of words.  A phone was then shoved in his hands and he brought it up to his ears.

Charles was used to hearing the calm and humorous voice of Frédéric Vasseur, never like this.

He knew he fucked up.

And like how Alexandra snipped whatever they had, Vasseur did the same to his contract with Ferrari.

“I am very disappointed in you, boy.  I’m afraid Ferrari will have to let you go.”

This is rockbottom.

Charles wordlessly hands the phone back and it’s replaced with his car keys.  For a moment he just stares at the dark stallion.  He hears them saying that someone picked it up from the bar for him.  

I’m fucking stupid.

Charles grips the key so hard it threatens to dig through his palms.  He gets up and heads to the direction of the door.  They call his name over and over but he just cannot deal with them at the moment.

“Get Leo to my mom.  I’m stepping out for a bit.”

He finds his car in the parking space and immediately gets in it.  Just like that, he threw his career under the bus.  What other team would want him to race for them, after this incident, he’d be lucky if some team with shit cars even looks at him.

For years, he built his name, trying to make those he loved proud, only for it all to unravel before his eyes in a single day. 

He needs to get out of here.

The engine roars as he speeds away from his place, going somewhere and nowhere in particular.

The city lights of Monte Carlo were a blur as he sped through.

Charles is never really one to run away from his problems, but there’s nothing here for him, is there?

The girl he trusted to be by his side went and broke up with him.  Their relationship lost its spark long before this day but Charles thought they were stable.  He was blinded with the comfort brought on by the convenience.  He drank not for losing her but for self-pity, which made him two times more horrible.  Charles would just love to blame anybody but himself right about now.  One stupid decision cost him his deal with Ferrari.

They had a fucking contract.  He was going to race for them for the next season, goddammit.

Charles pulls at his glovebox and sees his passport.

He drove to the airport of Monaco and hastily parked his car and gathered his stuff from the glove compartment.  For a moment his hands hovered over his phone yet he hesitates before deliberately leaving it.

He will deal with this later.  He just needs to get out.  Cold sweat was breaking out in his temple when he entered the air conditioned airport.  Charles pulls his hat down after security, feeling like everybody is looking at him.  His heartbeat accelerates and his breathing visibly picks up.  He’s going to be sick if he stays here a moment longer.

“Ticket to LA, please.”  Charles breathlessly said.

The ticket agent glances at him worriedly, familiarity clearly crossing her eyes.  “Sir, are you okay?  Do you need to sit down?”

Charles quickly shakes his head, giving her a forced grin.  “I’m fine.  I just need the ticket to LA.”

The woman types in her computer and her face becomes apologetic, making Charles grit his teeth.  “The plane just left.  The next flight is in six hours.”

“Shit.”  Charles runs a hand through his face.  “Uh…what about Las Vegas?”

“Next flight’s in eight hours-”

“JUST-…”  He inhales sharply.  “Just tell me which flight leaves now.”

The woman’s lips turned thin at his outburst but she chooses not to comment.

“Well, a flight to New York leaves in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll need a ticket.”

New York was probably not the best choice but he was in a rush to just get out as soon as he can.  LA and Vegas would have been preferable.  He had friends there, somewhere he can crash for a while as he waits for everything to blow over.

But as he stands there in New York, he looks at the bustle of people.  Nobody looked at him yet and for some reason it felt good to be ignored.  To not be a spectacle for once.  But he doubts it will last.  Charles adjusts his watch to the time and has his money changed to dollars so he can use it and he exits the airport.  

The warm, polluted air of New York slaps him in the face.  He got on a taxi and it drives him out of New York.  He was dropped off at a bar in some town where he got a few drinks.  He remembers glancing at his watch, a little past midnight.  Considering he crossed continents, he thought it would be much later than that. 

He repeated the process of riding a cab and stopping by a few places to eat and drink until he lost himself.  He was black out drunk.  Playing Dora the explorer was not on his bucket list for this year but he was stumbling on a sidewalk of some town he doesn’t recognize.  No landmarks or anything to help him.

He’d probably die from alcohol intoxication if he didn't stop drinking.  But the flashing neon light of the word ‘PUB’ in the corner just invites him over.  He opens the door and sees nobody inside but the old bartender, wiping glasses.  How fucking cliché, it made him chuckle.  He trudges to the counter and he frowns at the empty glasses, some still decorated with different colored liquid on the bottom.  Charles awkwardly pushes them to the side and sits on the bar stool as his eyes squint on the menu.  Aside from the typical hard drinks, he sees a variety of unfamiliar ones and decides to order a spiced apple cider from the hot section of the menu.

Alcohol was still running through his system like crazy, making the rush of his blood thrum.  He needed a warm drink to wake him up.

“Hey!”

Charles whips behind him.  A bad idea.  He grimaces and he clutches his head as the sudden movement makes the room spin.

“That’s my seat.”

He blinks hard and looks up to see a woman with red bold lips.  She was pissed by the looks of it.  But Charles knew that the flush on her cheeks was not because of her anger.  She hiccups and Charles grins.

“Yeah?  Sorry about that.”  He moves to the other stool, still watching.

“What are you smiling at?”  The woman glares at him before looking at the bartender who brings over his drink.  “Tom, I’ll have sour cherry vodka.”

“Young lady, you had eight drinks already, I think that might be enough for you.”  The old man chastises gently, an accent thick on his voice.   “It’s wee hours of the morning already.”

Charles grins behind his glass when she visibly deflates, lips pouting as she rests her flushed cheeks on her hand, hiccupping once more. 

“I’ll just have a hot buttered rum then.”

“It still has alcohol in it.”  Tom replies but starts preparing it for her anyway.  He brings over two glasses of water for them in the meantime.

Charles quietly sips on his drink, ignoring the glass of water.  The woman beside him sighs loudly, her finger tracing something on the fogged glass.

“You know.”  She starts as she straightens up in her seat before turning to him with bedroom eyes, making Charles gulp thickly.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“It’s my first time here.”  He says before sipping his drink again.

She smiles at him this time.  “You’re a tourist?”

He shrugs.  “Uhm, I guess you can say that.”

Tom places her drink on the counter and she thanks him without taking her eyes off of Charles.

“You a local here?”  Charles asks as his eyes follow how the glass presses on the plumpness of her lips.

She hiccups before giggling, as if he said something really funny to her.  “I think so but I just moved here three years ago for work.”

Just watching her giggle makes Charles chuckles too, he doesn’t know why but he just does.  He clears his throat to sip his drink once more.  Cheeks flushing slightly at the effect she has on him.

She gulps down her drink without pause and Charles follows how her throat moves.  When she places the glass down, she has a goofy grin on and Charles groans out a chuckle upon seeing her whipped cream moustache.

“You have something on your…here, let me get that for you.”  Charles leans closer and he cups her cheek and glides his thumb over her upper lip.  He stared into her wide glassy eyes the entire time.

He feels his skin buzzing, heating up under her gaze.

And he gives in to the pull.  Charles leans closer to plant his lips on hers.  She hiccups once more, making them both laugh but he deepens the kiss, enjoying the flavor of her on his tongue.

A sharp cough makes them part.

Charles glances at Tom the bartender and he sheepishly scratches his neck but she grabs his hand. 

“Uhm…you wanna…”

“Yes.”  Charles answers for her, pressing his lips on hers briefly before he clumsily pulls out his wallet to pay for their drink.  He turns to Tom.  “Is this enough?”

Tom sighs and shoos them away with his hand.  “Just get outta here you two.”

The woman laughs and thanks Tom before she pulls Charles out of the pub and as soon as they’re outside, he pulls her close to him, just needing to kiss her again.  She was like a breath of fresh air from all the craziness that took place today.

“Fuck.”  His hands roamed on her body, making her laugh.  “I need you, baby.”

At this point Charles is just willing to throw everything out the window if it meant having her.

Overdrive

[angelpuns]

Mikey stretched his arms up, then out, then stretched each of the fingers. They always ached in the early morning like this, but it was slowly getting better, bit by bit. He pulled on the special gloves Donnie had made him and headed for the kitchen, only yawning a little bit as he went. 

Maybe they'd have something easy today, yesterday’s fight was surprisingly long….

He usually slept like a baby after missions, but something was nagging at him. He hadn't been able to figure it out before bed last night, and the worry seemed to dissipate as he got up for the day. He chalked it up to the whole witch-incident, even if the spell had been a complete dud. 

Some witches just weren't cut out for it, he guessed. 

Mikey was shocked to see the kitchen light was already on, and when he peeked around the corner he got an even more surprising sight. Leo was already up, hand on his hip as he rifled through the cabinet for breakfast. 

“Morning, Leo! I was gonna whip up some eggs and toast if ya wanna wait a little, “ Mikey started, voice soft in case Leo hasn't actually slept, as he seemed to have trouble doing these days. Well, more trouble than usual, anyway. 

Leo didn't answer for a moment, but he did go still. Like he'd heard Mikey, but was afraid to answer. 

“uh…you okay, Lee?” Mikey asked again, slowly walking towards his brother.

After the invasion - which was nearly a year and a half ago now - they'd all had trouble adjusting. They'd been beaten down both mentally and physically, and the recovery was long and slow. They were all still recovering, Leo included. 

So it wasn’t too strange for him to not answer them sometimes, or for him to act strangely for no apparent reason. His panic attacks and nightmares had become less frequent as time went on, but they'd all learned how to help. 

So maybe it was just something like that! Even though Mikey had never had Leo just ignore him like this before. Usually he at least acknowledged him or tried to communicate in other ways. 

Maybe this was just a new development, and they'd help Leo through it like always! 

Leo slowly turned around, with a faintly anxious expression. His breathing was even, though, and his eyes were plenty focused. So not a panic attack, but his demeanor was still…weird. 

Leo stated at him with wide eyes for a moment, before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Um…sorry, this is a really weird question, but…who are you, exactly?” 

Mikey blinked. 

Well, that was new. 

He ran through a list of Leo's previous symptoms, and sometimes, yeah, he didn't exactly recognize them. But this was a clearly very cognizant and not panicking Leo, so it couldn’t be- 

And then Mikey remembered the thing in the back of his mind. The worry that had been lingering since their fight yesterday. 

What if the spell hadn't been a dud? 

“ well this isn't good….”

--------

Another part to that one au idea. I still don't know what to call it, but I'm kinda hopping around the ideas for it. I don't usually write in such little parts like this, so maybe it will become something idk :)

Technically this is exactly how wirm was born so maybe it'll be like that LMAO

But yeah enjoy Mikey being like ' ah yes the trauma' and then realizing that ' oh that's not the trauma '.

This part happens BEFORE the last blurb I posted btw, so I'm labelling it part one :) Chronologically it happens the morning before part two ;)

Part Two

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse trope prompt: Fake amnesia

Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams

Soap x reader

Maybe? NSFW - Soap gets a wee bit handsy with reader, nothing sexually explicit, profanity, soap is a sneaky lil shit

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

"Where's me bonnie lass?"

"She's comin', lad," Price murmurs, giving Soap's shoulder a gentle pat. He squats down beside his wheelchair to peer into his sergeant's eyes. "Ya feelin' alright? Head hurtin' ya?"

Soap squints at his captain, suspicious. "Oi! Yer no' another one o' them doctors, are ye? Feckin' numpties willnae leave me alone."

Price sighs, shakes his head and stands. "No, lad. I'm— just visitin'."

Soap's face splits into a grin. "Oh. Well, tha's a'right, then. Dinnae mind visitors. Do ye ken tha' big bloke tha' wears a skelly mask? 'E comes t'visit meh, too." Soap leans in, voice dipping low. " Bit of an odd duck, tha' one. Tol' meh 'e was a ghost." His eyebrows arch high on his forehead. "An' the docs say I'm th'one wit' brain damage."

Price huffs a short laugh despite himself. "That's his callsign, lad. Do ya remember yours?"

"Callsign?" Soap repeats, looking confused.

"Never mind. 'S not important right now."

Soap nods, his eyes trailing back to the door. "'Ave ye seen the gas man about? Mehbeh he kens where me lass is."

"Gas man?" Price mutters, frowning, then understanding dawns. "Ah. Ya mean Gaz. He's uh— at work. Won't be around for a few days, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Tha's too bad. 'E's good at findin' m'lass fer meh." He raises a hand to scratch at the scar tissue on the side of his head. "Doan s'pose ye'd be willin' t'ave a look 'round fer 'er, would ye? Ah miss 'er." His blue eyes shine bright and luminous with hope.

Price nods, chuckling. "A'course, lad. I'll see if I can find her f'ya."

Price turns on the telly for him before he leaves, flipping it to a cartoon channel. Soap's loud guffaw follows him out into the hallway. Passing the nurses' station, he gives a nod to a couple of the nurses as he heads towards the cafeteria, where he last saw you. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots you sitting with Ghost, a cup of tea in your hands.

You watch the captain's approach, taking in his expression, then grimace. His look is apologetic when he murmurs, "He's askin' f'ya, again, lass."

"Bloody hell," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Ghost grunts, eyes narrowing. "Funny, tha'. Johnny can't remember any'a us, but he's got no problem remembering 'er?" He tilts his head. "Bit strange, innit?"

Price shrugs. "Hard t'say, with an injury like that. Docs say he might regain some of his memory, he might not. No way t'tell."

You sigh, turning your weary gaze on Ghost. "His memory of me isn't perfect, either, ya know? You remember how he used to give me hell all the time. Now he thinks I'm his bloody girlfriend, for Chrissakes! He told Gaz we were engaged yesterday. It's bloody mental."

Ghost hums but says no more.

Blowing out a tired breath, you push yourself up from your chair. "Guess I better get back up there before he comes looking for me again. Thought that head nurse was going to string those other poor nurses up by their heels when Johnny gave 'em the slip."

Price laughs lowly. "And in a wheelchair, no less. Made it all the way to the exit before they caught up with him."

Ghost grunts as he stands, shuffling away from the table to join you. "I'll go wiff ya. Johnny might behave himself better if I'm there."

You snort at that. "Yeah, right. Might as well restrain him, because he won't keep his hands to himself, I can promise ya that."

As soon as you enter Soap's room, he beams a huge smile, his arms up, grabby hands reaching for you. "There ye are! C'mere, bonnie. Gie us a hug."

You point at him, a stern expression on your face. "Promise you'll behave, first. No feeling me up this time."

He gazes up at you, looking like a whipped pup. "Ayre ye mad at me, bon? Did I do somethin' bad? Ah'm sorry."

His pitiful pout melts your resolve instantly. "I'm not mad at you, Johnny. Don't get upset. Everything's alright," you soothe, voice soft as you step close to smooth your hand over his shaggy mohawk.

Ghost doesn't miss the mischievous little flash in Soap's eyes before he grins and grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap. You yelp, trying to be careful of his head as you try to push his face from between your breasts. The man doesn't let up, wallowing you like a fussy toddler, his big hands holding you in place. You give another yelp when he gets hold of your ass cheek and squeezes.

"Oi, ya cheeky git," Ghost barks. "Yer bein' too rough!"

Soap cuts a sly glance his way before settling his chin on your chest, smiling sweetly up at you. "Ah dinnae hurt ye, did I, bon?"

You sigh, flustered, trying to be patient. "No, Johnny. You just— startled me." You puff out a breath, prying his hand off your ass.

Soap gives Ghost a smug little smirk, hugging you so tight, you squeak. "See, LT? Ah wasnae bein' too rough. Ah jus' startled 'er."

You lay a hand on his cheek to get his attention back, melting a little more at the open adoration in his gaze. "You should still be more careful, Johnny," you chide him gently. "You get excited and grab my bum too hard sometimes. You leave bruises."

He perks up at that. "Aye? Bruises, ye say? Can ye show me? Ah promise t'kiss 'em all better."

You can't help but laugh. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Soap nuzzles your chest and grins. "Aye, but ye love meh anyway, doan ye, bon?"

You only manage to escape when one of the nurses finally comes in to give Soap his medication and check his vitals. You scurry out the door, looking a right mess, disheveled and breathing heavy, mumbling something about getting some water.

Ghost stands by quietly as the nurse takes Johnny's vitals, eyeing him intently the whole time. Once she exits the room, Soap turns a guileless expression to his lieutenant. "Somethin' the matter, Mr. Ghost?"

Ghost huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Give it up, Johnny. Ya fucked up, mate. She didn't catch it, but I did." He comes closer, leaning down to whisper at Soap's ear, "Or did ya jus' suddenly remember I'm yer LT?"

He chuckles lowly when Soap sucks in a sharp breath. He straightens back to his full height, looming over the now worried looking Scot.

"I'll keep m'mouth shut, so long as ya come clean wiff the captain. Poor sod's been worryin' 'imself sick over ya."

"A'right," Soap grumbles, bottom lip poking out.

You return moments later, a bottle of water in one hand, a pudding cup and spoon in the other.

"Look what I nicked for ya, Johnny. Butterscotch pudding. Your favorite."

He gives you a hangdog look. "Can we lay in bed while ye feed it t'meh? Ah'm feelin' a wee bit tired."

"Sure, love. Ghost, will ya help me get him in the bed?"

Ghost helps put him to bed without comment, but pins the sergeant with a knowing look while you're climbing into bed with him.

Soap slants a mischievous look up at his lieutenant, teeth flashing in a quick grin, and winks.

[virescent-v]

Wine Breath

Summary: Gif-inspired "drabble" for @scorpsik A/N: Apparently, my "drabbles" are under 1k words and not closer to 500....... Warnings: None. :) Word count: 991

Emily woke up with a start, the sunlight filtering through the curtains blinding her. With old mascara-caked, dried contact eyes, she squints against the brightness. Her mouth is dry, her tongue fuzzy. A stale taste of alcohol and something else on her breath. 

Emily glanced around, immediately on alert. 

She didn’t recognize the room she was in. 

…and she was in her bra and underwear. 

Jumping out of the - rather comfortable - bed, Emily frantically looked around for anything resembling her own belongings. 

Finding black jeans and white button down that she remembered putting on yesterday, Emily hurriedly dressed before taking in her surroundings. The bed she was sleeping in was large, king sized, with a light colored duvet. The room itself was clean, but there weren’t any real personal effects. There were various artworks and sculptures around the room. 

Creeping around the perimeter of the room, her FBI training kicking in, she peers around the corner of one of the two doors in the room. 

A bathroom. Two toothbrushes on the counter, one still in the packaging and unused. 

Continuing around the room, she made her way to the other closed door, expecting that to be her exit. Opening the door slowly, quietly, she listens to see if she can hear any movement outside of the room. 

There seems to be no movement that she can hear, so she ventures out. She’s in an apartment that she now realizes she vaguely recognizes. 

Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” 

** 

Rushing into work, a little off-guard and definitely late, Emily runs straight into Penelope. 

“Uh, Emily. Stalking case. I texted you twenty-eight minutes ago.” 

Checking her phone, Emily grimaced. “Oh, you did. I’m sorry. Uh, just a little distracted,” Emily said, stuttering a little. 

“Because of the, uh, person in your office?” Penelope asked, pointing towards Emily’s office, a lone figure shadowed by the blinds. 

“There’s someone in my office?” Emily asked, turning towards where Penelope pointed. Shaking her head, she refocused on her friend in front of her. Emily sighed, “Wait, Penelope, listen.” 

Penelope startles at the tone of Emily’s voice, straightening up. “Yes, my fine furry friend?” 

Emily skirts her eyes around the office quickly, making sure there wasn’t anyone listening nearby. “I, uh, didn’t wake up in my bed last night.” 

Penelope’s eyes widened. Whispering, she said, “What do you mean not your bed?” 

Emily was immediately distracted by a shuffle of noise in her office, her eyebrows furrowing. Her head swiveled back and forth between Penelope and the window to her office. “I, uh. Hm. I woke up in her bed.” Emily started to frown, the noise in her office getting louder. She started to turn, as if to walk away. 

“Wait, Emily.” Penelope reached down into her bag, moving things around until she pulled out a small container. Turning back to Emily, with her hand outstretched. “Open. Ah,” as she places a mint on Emily’s tongue. “You’re gonna need that. You have wine breath.” Closing the container and shoving it back in her bag, Penelope yell-whispers, “We’ll talk about last night later, hot stuff.” 

Emily closes her mouth, happy to not have a dry, stale mouth anymore. She sighs and heads towards her office. 

** 

Emily crossed the threshold into her office, freezing. 

Shuffling paperwork on her desk, was you. 

“Hm, hi. I, uh,” Emily stammered, her eyes skittering around you, trying to get a read on you.. “I didn’t see you this morning.” 

You continued to shuffle paperwork around, smirking up at Emily. “Well, sleepyhead, you were out like a light and I wanted to get in early to get things sorted for the case,” you said, waving your hand around the papers. 

You walked around the desk, watching how antsy Emily seemed to be. Stepping close to her, within arms length, you say concerningly, “Em, are you okay?” 

Emily licked her lips, eyes trailing over your face. She nodded her head, which seemed to also nod her body along with the movement. “Yep, yep. Totally good. So fine. Good, really good.”  

You tilted your head. “Yeah, try that again but more convincingly,” you laughed. “Is it about last night?” 

Emily glanced back over her shoulder, through her open office door, before stepping a little closer to you. “Did we, uh…do anything?” 

You started laughing. Out-right, loud belly laughs. “Oh, you don’t remember, do you?” 

The question made Emily’s nerves grow. She started to shift on her feet, her lower lip caught between her teeth as a deep blush flamed on her cheeks. “I wish I remembered our first time…?” She trails off. 

Your laughing stops abruptly. “You think…we…together?” You insinuated, gesturing obscenely. 

Emily rubbed the back of her neck, looking away awkwardly. “Well, I woke up in a bed mostly naked. I figured something of the sort happened.”

You would’ve started laughing again if Emly didn’t look so…disappointed? 

You stepped forward  just a little, already in Emily’s personal space. You reached up slowly, tucking some of her hair back out of her face. “Em. You came over, got incredibly wine drunk. I put you to bed in my guest room. You stripped down to your bra and underwear before passing out.” You chuckled. “You didn’t even brush your teeth or take off of your makeup.” Playing with her hair a little, you blushed. “Trust me, if we’d done any of…that…I would be pissed that you’d forgotten.” 

Emily’s body relaxed. She cleared her throat as her hands found your hips, pulling you ever closer. “Well, then. Want to redo last night with a different ending?” She smirked, winking exaggeratedly at you. 

Another full body laugh burst out of you, as you wrapped your arms around Emily’s neck. “This time, maybe don’t finish a bottle of wine by yourself.” 

Emily shook her head. “Only water for me.” Her hands trailed lightly over your lower back, her fingers just creeping to the edge of your slacks. “I want to remember everything.” 

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

post-s2. good omens mascot here, coping unhealthily.

This is the first proper post I'm writing since the audio breakdown, good thing I queued a POTC one last week, I suppose. Yes I slept through the entire day today, missed the theatre workshop I was supposed to attend and may or may not be listening to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square on loop. Have an update on my coping because my social life and family are both Tumblr now:

Every song is about them now. A lot were before, but now every single one. Even an old Hindi song from a 1900s Indian military movie that I have not watched, by the way. But the lyrics (thank you Google translate) are: Everybody wants a handful of the sky, everybody searches for a handful of the sky, there is a world waiting to be hugged to the chest, the moon is a fair full of stars, but this heart is still lonely. And of course that makes me think of Crowley as the starmaker. Ow.

I made the very intelligent decision to rewatch the first three episodes of season 2, knowing what the Job minisode and the Edinburgh minisode do to me. I'll be here clutching Crowley, well, hugging him close to the chest, just like that song... ah, fuck, here we go again.

I listened to you all and am drinking a lot of water, since my tear ducts were emptied yesterday and now I'm unable to cry. I also ate too much chocolate.

I searched for sad Aziracrow edits and watched them. Don't look at me. I'm in a hell of my own creation.

I used too many emotions last night and now I feel hollow and achy. Maybe I should cope with humour and write the summaries.

Or maybe that will backfire and I will be filled with horrifying levels of emotion.

I slept. A lot. Many hours. Lots sleep.

So. Well. You know. Adopted child of divorce. You were all right, this is exactly like dealing with a breakup or divorce, but much more painful.

Someone please, please, please stop me from clicking the Crowley whump tag to find fanfiction.

I remember my initial Good Omens posts. I remember calling the fandom sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, and also pointing out how you all blame Neil and then sit and make headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

I was so right. Look at me now, sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, making headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

Wahoo.

[mysumeow]

──CYCLE

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Gender-neutral reader. Implied established relationship. 100% sfw. ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Jamil gets sick and reader takes care of him. ᓚᘏᗢ WORD COUNT: 1k. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: im so happy i got jamil's applepom ssr :'DDD i knew i wanted that ssr the moment it was released in the japanese server TT_TT

⸝⸝⸝

The first few seconds after Jamil woke up, he registered a faint warmth that blossomed from his chest and broadened to the rest of his body.

It was a matter of time for said warmth to become unpleasant, however. Little by little, he noticed the dullness and soreness of his limbs, along with the annoying pain that sliced through his throat.

A fever.

Jamil recalled the last situations he was involved in that could’ve led to this result.

Ah, yes. It was yesterday. The day began with clear skies. Next thing he knew, gray clouds that harbored thunders and lighting covered the sky. He realized Kalim was outside and could get soaked by the rain if he didn’t hurry, which would end up in the housewarden getting sick, and, as a dutiful attendant, he couldn’t allow that.

By the time he found an umbrella, it was already raining. Left with no choice, Jamil went headfirst into the downpour.

A shiver struck through Jamil, cutting his recall short. As he rolled to the other side, he embraced himself under the blankets.

It was only after this change of position that he spotted you. He saw you sitting on a chair next to his bed, your head down and on the verge of losing your balance if you didn’t wake up soon.

“Hey,” he grimaced when the sting in his throat became stronger. “You’re about to fall from the chair. Wake up.”

You blinked the drowsiness away and stretched.

“Hi, Jamil. Did you sleep well?”

Even though Jamil nodded, his expression devoid of any joy didn’t convince you. You’d checked his temperature earlier, and it was a whopping 39 °C, so it was safe to assume he felt awful.

You got up and removed the wet cloth that was on his forehead.

He wasn’t one to fall sick often, but when he did, it hit him hard. In other instances, he would take ibuprofen and deal with it in silence. He couldn’t ignore his responsibilities due to a cough and sore throat.

“I’m going to dampen it again, okay? I’ll be back,” you said, heading in the bathroom's direction.

His eyes followed your retreating figure, his head in atypical quietude.

Being taken care of…Jamil acknowledged to himself that it felt refreshing. Don’t ask him about it, though. He would deny it. Nevertheless, there was a tiny uneasiness that stemmed from not being used to being this level of vulnerability.

You emerged back from the bathroom. With the damp cloth on your hand, you were about to place it on his forehead, but Jamil stopped you. His recalling about yesterday’s events made him remember he needed to keep an eye on Kalim!

“I’ve got to prepare Kalim’s breakfast,” he jumped out of bed and walked a couple of steps before dizziness made him falter. If not for your effort to get him back to bed, he would’ve tripped.

“Breakfast? It’s past midday.”

Jamil’s eyes opened like saucers. “What! You could’ve woken me up earlier!”

You shook your head disapprovingly as he tried, for a second time, to get up. You pushed him back to bed again.

“Do you think you’re in conditions to carry on with your usual schedule? When you can’t even stand up without losing footing?”

He was a stubborn one when it came to being responsible, and even if he wanted to insist, the fever obfuscated his train of thought.

Jamil watched you brush away the disheveled hair strands that were on his forehead, combing your fingers through the long locks of hair with gentleness. His heartbeat picked up, but he convinced himself it was because of the fever and definitely not because of a different kind of warmth that ignited within. Unlike the hot temperature caused by the illness, this one was pleasant.

The tender sensation had an abrupt interruption from a second shiver that ran up his spine; goosebumps rose.

“I hate this. I feel like I’m freezing.” Jamil lamented, irritated at his state.

Jamil closed his eyes for a moment, with the intention of coming up with a plan to get back on track as soon as possible.

An unexpected shift on the bed prompted him to look at the source of it: you were cuddling him.

“You’re going to get sick.” Jamil groaned. You snuggled up to him while he was deep in thought. Your arms were around his torso, with your cheek squished on his chest.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you stay warm.” 

In other circumstances, he would’ve put up a little bit more resistance since he didn’t want to infect you. Anyways, he knew you wouldn’t listen, and he didn’t have the energy to argue.

Resigned, Jamil sighed and placed an arm around you. You got comfortable and placed a leg on his, his body was like a heater. He was in silent contemplation, and his lethargic breathing lulled you to sleep.

Within a pair of days, Jamil’s health recovered with swiftness.

You, on the other hand...

“I told you were going to catch it.”

The way he scolded you sort of reminded you of your mom—a thought you found quite funny and still laughed, albeit the discomfort.

“Don’t be so mean, Jamil,” Kalim sided with you. “The prefect spent the past days taking care of you.”

“Tell him, Kalim. Speak the truth.”

“Do you want me to buy you something? Do you want ice cream?”

“That could increase the inflammation. Don’t,” Jamil stopped the housewarden before he could worsen your condition. “I’ve brought enough medicine.”

“Way to be a killjoy,” you crossed your arms, pretending to be angry.

“I’ll invite you to ice cream after you’re healthy again.”

“Alright, I guess…”

After a few more exchange of words, Kalim’s club activities urged him to leave sooner than Jamil.

“Take these,” He handed you a glass of water and ibuprofen. “I also made soup. That should help you soothe the ache, too.”

“Will you feed me it?” you asked with a grin, remembering how bashful he became when you did that favor for him. “And will you cuddle me too?”

“I’ll feed you the soup. Although, I won’t cuddle you,” in spite of his serious tone, you heeded the timid hint suppresed in it. “It would become a cycle of both of us getting sick.”

“Fine, fair point. That’d be silly.”

[lightlycareless]

This feels Naoya and Naohime coded 🤭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8RA51xG/

Hi anon!

Yes... yes it is. Definitely, there's no denying it. 🥺 aaghhhhh I don't have much to say since it's mostly written down below so I'll just jump to it!!

Warnings: none. fluff. Naoya and you are married and have 5 kids, Naohime is the last one that you ended up having much older :) you could say she wasn't planned but she's definitely wanted.

Happy reading!

I like seeing things like this considering the subtext that usually follows, in other words, since I always envisioned Naohime being around the time Naoya is more present at the estate… it means he’ll have more opportunities to record these little moments between the two and not just see them through his cellphone. (Being away from home, you doing all the recording… that kind of stuff)

 However, he’s quite disappointed that he’s not able to replicate the same level of cuteness you seemed to capture back in the day; while yours were heartwarming, a glimpse into your everyday… Naoya just shows how much of a struggling father he is, and how much Naohime doesn’t seem to like him.

“Oh, Naoya” you giggle upon hearing his dismayed lament. You had to leave for a few days to help out your family with some unprecedented clan matters, so naturally you miss your husband and baby so, so much. Thankfully, Naoya knew just what to do to remedy that.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think the same way about his own problem.

“I don’t think our peanut likes me that much, mochi.”

“That’s just how she always is, honey. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you; she’s always so excited to see you and play with you!” you reassure. “Though we do need to help her with that… it’s not healthy for her to have said outbursts…”

“I can agree with that, however, I think she wants to see you more than me right now.”

“Aw, don’t tell me that—it’ll just make me want to go back quicker!”

“Then do so. We miss you.”

“Ohhh, I will, then! I’ll tell my family to hurry so I can see my adorable baby and handsome husband.” You giggle, followed by a short moment of silence and a sigh. “Ah, remember when our kids were younger? It seems like it was only yesterday that we welcomed out little Naomi home… and now she’s almost 20!”

“I remember how giddy she was.” Naoya adds. “And talkative too—very talkative.”

“She was so cute too… I could literally listen to her babbles all day!” You gushed. “I wonder what she was saying…? Oh! Or how Naori would tightly hold onto my hand whenever we went out…”

“Now, don’t tell me you’re feeling—” he smirks, you shake your head.

“No, considering our age, it’s… too much.” You respond, almost lamenting so. Perhaps if the circumstances had been different, if taking care of children wasn’t so exhausting as it was gratifying, then… maybe.

Just maybe.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?” Naoya muses. “5 kids, almost ranked me out.”

“Yeah, we did. Definitely surpassed me.” You laugh. “I don’t know how we did it… but I’m glad we did. Guess my only regret is having paced them out so oddly; I don’t think Naomi enjoyed having a baby brother 8 years younger than her. It was clear she wanted someone to play with, not to look after.”

“No one knew what would happen, my love. But even then, I wouldn’t risk losing you.” Naoya responds. Though he agrees with your sentiment, he’d much rather... “I would’ve been happy nonetheless if we only had one child.”

“…Really? ‘Cause your long list of names imply otherwise…” you jest, he chuckles.

“What? I simply got inspired after Naomi—though I ran out of names by the 12th one.”

“5 was enough, then.” You conclude.

“More than enough, I’d say perfect.” He agrees. “…Thank you, for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, we did this together.”

“But you made me feel deserving of a family—that someone like me is still capable of being happy.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” You add, his heart skips a beat.

“I swear that I’ll find you in our next life and make things right this time around, since the very beginning.”

“Just to be with you is enough for me, Naoya. However, I do hope you don’t take long in finding me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I think we ought to prepare ourselves right now; how probably is it that we—ow!”

“Naoya! What is it?” you fret upon hearing Naoya gasp, followed by a sharp hiss. “Are you ok?”

“Ye—yeah. I’m fine, it’s just… Naohime here threw one of her toys right into my eye.” He explains, looking back to the baby who was now giggling—satisfied to have pulled her father’s attention back to her. “And the little devil is quite proud of it too…”

“Oh.” You say, both amused by her antics and worried about his wellbeing. “Guess our baby needs her papa more than her mama does; I’ll leave you to it, then. I still gotta do some things over here anyways.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Naoya says, pushing himself up off the ground and picking Naohime. She seems to retaliate for a moment, but eventually concedes, placing her small head on the crook of his neck while tightly grasping onto his hair—she’s not going down that easily! “Ah—We’ll be here for you until then.”

“Don’t forget to send me videos of my baby! And oh, be sure to get your eye checked too…” you add. “I’ll be coming soon too so just hang in there, honey. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me and our family while I’m away. I’ll be sure to… reward you.”

“You know you don’t have to, little mochi; but I won’t reject you.” He teases, you blush. “I can’t wait for the moment I’ll have you back in my arms.”

“Just wait for me. I love you so much, Naoya.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“Mnnah!” Naohime adds, almost as if she were bidding her farewells to you—or perhaps demanding her papa’s attention once more; either way, the two share another laugh before eventually hanging up, with Naoya returning to his baby and the demands she must have satisfied.

“Now, now, I’m here. What is it that you want, little peanut?”

Naohime blows a raspberry, making Naoya smirk.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Pa—pa!”

“Ah, so you do understand what I say? You just decide to ignore me, isn’t it?”

Naohime laugh once more.

A spoiled little princess, but he wouldn’t want her any other way.

🥺 while the most unruly of them all, she still has a special place in my heart. She's the kid that parents go far more easy on because she's the youngest and the parents are also older too lol. Still, I like to think that by the power of love (lol) she didn't turn out that bad :>

Anyways, thank you so much for sharing this with me. I hope you enjoyed this small thing I wrote! Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and  you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: kidnapping, angst

Summary: Your life hangs in the balance when it takes a dangerous turn. People are after the Princess of Yacleira, and they’ll do whatever possible to make sure they get what they want. Ben is called down to America to help out in any way that he can. After all, you’re still his Princess and he still has a duty to uphold.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: kidnapped au (2021) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Spencer walks into work the next day with his head hung low and a frown on his face. He didn’t even stop to get coffee which is shocking since he always has a craving for the sugary substance. Penelope and Derek walk out of the break room together and see how sad Spencer looks.

“Hey, you didn’t come back yesterday. How did it go?” she asks.

“She denied it all. I don’t know if I can be with someone who isn’t truthful.”

Penelope must have told Derek what happened because of what Derek says next.

“All you do is talk about this girl, man. I know how much you like her.”

Spencer can only shrug.

“Maybe there is a reason why she’s being so cagey. Maybe she’s scared of something.”

Spencer feels bad for not giving you time to explain yourself. It just came as a shock when he found out the girl he really likes isn’t the girl he likes at all. You’re someone different from a world he knows nothing about. He isn’t stupid. He saw the look of panic on your face when he showed you the articles. You’re scared but he mistook it as being guilty. Maybe you were but he shouldn’t have reacted that way.

“I’ll go back to her place later and talk to her. Right now, we have a case.”

Spencer forces you to the back of his mind so he can focus on his job. You don’t know what happened after you fell asleep in Don’s car but you have a feeling of dread that something isn’t right. You open your eyes and roll your head to the right since you’re still kind of out of it. The first thing you notice is a woman sitting behind a computer typing furiously. She hasn’t noticed you yet so you scan the rest of the room in curiosity.

There is a younger man with a boy-band haircut standing over a collection of knives. He grabs one of them and twirls the blade in his hands as if he’s trying to get used to the weight of it. Sitting on the couch to the left are two men relaxing--one of them has his arms draped over the back of the couch and the other has his right leg crossed over his left. You blink furiously to get your vision to focus because you recognize one of the men sitting on the couch.

“Jacob?”

All three men and the woman look in your direction when they hear your name.

“Ah, look who’s awake,” Jacob grins.

“What is going on?”

Panic sets in and you look down to see yourself tied to a chair in the middle of the room. You yank on your restraints but whoever tied you down did a good job in making sure you won’t go anywhere.

“Struggling is only going to make it worse.”

“What is going on?” you ask again, this time more sternly. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’ve been kidnapped. Where is Don? The last thing you remember is being in a car with Don. Yes, you were escaping. Oh, Spencer, I messed up. “Please, whatever you think I have, I don’t so you may as well just let me go.”

The front door into the house opens and you see someone you trusted walk in. Don heaves a black duffel bag onto the coffee table and points to the man who has his leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t say a word as he grabs the bag and opens it. Don hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time, not even as he approaches you. He grabs the armrests of your chair and leans down closer to you, and you crane your neck back to put some distance between you two.

“Don?”

“You’re going to make us a pretty penny.” He sees the look in your eyes. “God, you’re so trusting sometimes. You didn’t even bother checking to make sure I was Don.”

“What?” you whisper.

“My name is James and your mother and father would pay a great amount of money to get their daughter back, the Princess of Yacleira.”

You look around the room and see pictures of you as a barista and as a princess all over their wall. How could you not see James for who he really was? Mr. Boy-Band looks at you from the kitchen with a slight grin as he continues to twirl the knife in his hands.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you ask, looking at him with unshed tears in your eyes.

“Not if you behave. I’m not one for torture but Ryder is,” you look at Mr. Boy-Band who slams the sharp end of the knife into a cutting board, “and he won’t be gentle about it. Jacob and Kellen,” you look at the two men on the couch, “thrive on psychological torture. Macy,” you look at the woman behind the computer, “will go after the ones you love. You have no power here.”

“You won’t get away with this,” you glare.

“Oh, princess, we’ve been getting away with it before you stepped foot in this country.” He takes out a small digital camera from his pocket and aims it at you. “Say cheese, princess.”

He takes your picture knowing how scared and vulnerable you look. Please don’t hurt Spencer. Anyone but him. When Spencer got his lunch break, he headed over to your house to try and salvage whatever was left of your relationship. He tried calling you before he left but it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t answer. He knocks on your door and waits but after five minutes of waiting, he frowns.

“Who are you?”

Spencer turns to see an older muscular man standing on the sidewalk in front of your house.

“Spencer Reid. Who are you?” Spencer asks.

“My name is Benjamin and I’m trying to find Don Stockwell.”

“Yeah, he lives here with a young girl. I’m trying to get ahold of her but she isn’t answering. No one is answering the door which is a little concerning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I found out something about her and I didn't take it well. That was yesterday, and I was coming over here to apologize but she isn’t answering.”

Benjamin steps up to the door and takes out a key that he uses to get inside. Benjamin goes into protective mode and searches the place from top to bottom while Spencer stays by the front door, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t want to snoop but he also doesn’t want to leave. Ben seems like he knows Don well enough to do this, and Spencer has too many questions to want to leave right now.

“Where did they go?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know.” Ben approaches the basement door that is locked with a padlock. He takes out small bolt cutters and removes the padlock by force. “Do you always keep bolt cutters on you?”

“Stay up here.”

Benjamin walks down the stairs into the basement, glad that Spencer can at least follow directions. The basement is like any other with boxes and other junk piled up in different corners. However, there is a large ice chest by the far wall that’s plugged in. He walks over to it and opens the top, his heart dropping at the sight of his good friend stuffed inside with a bullet hole in his head. Don is dead and from the looks of it, he’s been dead for a while, possibly before you came to America. He closes the ice chest and walks back upstairs where Spencer is still waiting.

“What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“I’m an FBI profiler. Don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t talk about it,” Ben sighs.

Ben moves around Spencer to leave the apartment but Spencer’s words stop him.

“Does this have something to do with Yacleira?”

“What did you say?”

“I know Y/N is a princess. Of Yacleira, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, I’m in the FBI.”

Ben decides to take this leap of faith and trust Spencer because help from him is better than no help at all. He and Spencer walk to the kitchen table and sit down so they can talk.

“My name is Benjamin and I am the sole bodyguard of Princess Y/N.”

“Bodyguard? You let her leave Yacleira alone?”

“Listen, kid, she was miserable over there. She is at that age where she needs to marry, and her parents arranged for her to marry Prince Henry of Vosharia. You should have seen the tears in her eyes every time she had to do something wedding-related. I saved her from something far worse, trust me.”

Spencer didn’t know this ran so deep.

“What happened next?”

“I had this friend, Don Stockwell. We used to be in the Navy together. I got in contact with him and he offered to look after her, to give her a normal life. I needed to be as far away from this as possible but I thought she’d be safe here.”

“You said had. Don’s alive, isn’t he?”

“No. His body is downstairs in the basement stuffed into an ice chest. Whoever she’s been staying with isn’t Don.”

“I shouldn’t have left yesterday,” Spencer sighs in guilt.

“How do you know her?”

“We met in the coffee shop. She worked there. She’s amazing and I fell for her immediately.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer mumbles. “I shouldn’t have left yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who let her go without checking to make sure Don was okay.”

“Does her parents know?”

“That I was involved? No. They sent me here because of a photo of you two leaving a restaurant.”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs. “I didn’t know why she was panicking all night. I thought she was nervous.”

“I need to know who she is staying with. Can you help me with that?”

“Yeah.” Spencer checks the time on his watch. “I gotta head back anyway.”

“What are you going to do about the dead body in the basement?”

“I’ll call it in.”

Spencer does on his way back to the BAU with Benjamin following closely behind. JJ hasn’t presented a new case so Spencer hopes they can focus on this one until you’re back in your own bed safe and sound. Her own bed back in Yacleira where she belongs. Spencer casts his eyes down as he tries not to think of what you two will mean after they find you. He gathers everyone in the briefing room and explains what is going on.

“So, she’s really royalty?” Penelope asks.

“Yes, and she is the only heir to the throne, so I’d like to find her sooner rather than later.”

“Prentiss, take JJ with you to the Coffee Shop and ask around about her. Someone might have seen something,” Hotch says, and both women leave. “Garcia, I need everything you can on Don Stockwell.”

“Don is dead inside the house. He most likely died before she even stepped foot into this country.”

“I know, but something in his history might tell us something about the man she’s been staying with.”

“You’ve met him, right?” Ben asks Spencer who nods. “Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

“He has a huge scar running across his face. His hair covered some of it but I noticed it.”

“Fuck,” Benjamin curses. “Pardon my French.”

“Do you know this man?” Rossi asks.

“Yeah, I’m the one who gave him the damn scar. His name is James Volkov and he’s been after the princess for quite some time now, even in Yacleira. He attempted to overthrow the throne a couple of years ago, but the farthest he got was the front door. She never even saw him or knew he was after her. Her mother and father forbid me to mention it to her.”

“Let’s see what kind of dirty stuff James has in his closet,” Penelope says, typing on her laptop. “Not much is known about him except he was born in raised in Russia. Went to prison in Russia. Fled Russia. He’s been hiding in the States on and off for the past ten years.”

“Yeah, he owes a lot of people money and he thinks by overthrowing the Richmonds, he’ll get the money to finally be free. He knows damn well if he steps foot in Russia, he’d get arrested no matter how much money he has.”

“Can you track him?” Hotch asks Penelope.

“That’s easier said than done. He’s only ever used burner phones, he used a car he paid for with cash, rented monthly with Don’s name, and avoided all cameras that I can see. I only have him in view of a camera when he went to see Y/N at the Coffee Shop, and their house isn’t in the way of any cameras.”

“What about her phone? She must have had it with her when she went missing, right?”

“If he was desperate enough, he might still have it with him,” Rossi says.

Penelope types into her laptop and pulls up the signal from your phone.

“It’s pinging off three cell towers. It’s going to take a hot minute to track it.”

Ben takes out his phone and calls Kylen to report his findings. He doesn’t have to wait long knowing Kylen is eager for some news.

“We got something here. James Volkov--”

“That bastard?”

“What is it, Kylen?” Benjamin hears Calliope on the other side, her voice faint.

“He fled to America and posed as someone Y/N trusted. He’s been taking care of her but kidnapped her. We’re trying to locate both of them right now.”

Kylen covers the phone with his hand and relays the news to the King and Queen. Even with the speaker covered, Benjamin can hear Calliope cry for her daughter. Benjamin waits five seconds, then ten, then twenty. Something is happening over there or else Kylen would have torn Benjamin a new one for sending her here. It won’t take a genius to figure out his involvement.

“What is it?” Ben asks.

“We got something. An email.”

“An email?” Hotch and Rossi look at Ben who then places Kylen on speakerphone. “What did the email say?”

“A ransom note for Y/N’s safety, demanding one hundred million American dollars.”

“How do we know they actually have her?”

“It’s better for you if you see for yourself.” Kylen sends over the email that Benjamin looks over. His blood runs cold when he sees a picture of you tied and gagged with tears running down your cheeks. “If they don’t comply in twenty-four hours, they’ll remove a limb for each hour past it.”

“Kylen--”

“The King and Queen are heading down there right now to deal with this directly. You better have a good story as to why Don Stockwell was supposed to be the person she was to meet, and why you two were Navy buddies.”

Kylen hangs up without waiting to hear what Benjamin says. He taps the end of his phone on the table in thought and Penelope’s laptop pings.

“I got her phone’s last known location.” Penelope puts the map on the big screen so everyone can see it. “It’s at a gas station on the edge of town.”

“I’m not surprised he ditched it,” Ben grumbles.

JJ and Emily come back from the Coffee Shop with a notepad in Em’s hands.

“So, there is nothing on James or Don, but we did get someone that visited her a few times during her employment. They didn’t get the name of the man, but the manager, Cindy, was able to provide a description. We looked back on the cameras and we told her to send it to you,” JJ says to Pen.

Penelope pulls up the cameras and clicks into the video file that was sent over to her. As clear as day, the man who visited you is on camera. Benjamin shakes his head, having not recognized the man.

“I don’t know who that is. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Should I release this to the press?” JJ asks.

“Wouldn’t that pressure them to hurt Y/N?” Benjamin asks.

He might not have been with you for a few months, but he is still your bodyguard. He still cares for you.

“He might be right,” Rossi says.

“No, not yet. Not until we have more information,” Hotch says to her.

Ben resumes tapping his phone on the table. He should have never let you leave Yacleira. At the very least, he should have checked to make sure Don was doing okay. He wanted to give you as normal life as possible which meant cutting you off from Yacleira and its people as much as he could. On the other hand, Spencer feels guilty for leaving you yesterday. He should have given you a chance to explain.

Maybe then your life wouldn’t be hanging in the balance.

x

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[tiramisuandlove]

Changed fate

Featuring— Suguru Geto x gn!Reader

Summary— in every timeline Suguru Geto and you are meant to find each other and fall in love. The problem is that Suguru Geto is long gone on his self destructive path and he is ready to do anything to not be in love with you. Oh well, what is one failed timeline when you are together in every other ones.

Warnings— descriptions of death and pain . Angst. Fluff.

Note— please inform me if I missed something since I’m still new to writing and tags. English is not my first language so there may be mistakes I have missed.

I Strangers

Peaceful.

Your life was peaceful. Your small bakery was gaining attention, your cup of coffee was tasting better with every next day and the single dad( you assume since there was lack of a ring around his finger) of two girl was making butterflies appear in your stomach. It started innocently. You didn't wanted to gain a crush on this handsome stranger.

One day , early in the cold December morning he opened the door of your shop. You can still remember it as if it was yesterday. With your back facing the door while preparing the last set of deserts. The clink of the ball announced his presence and caught your attention. You were quick to face the register , to face him but once you did you were left breathless.

Eternal. It was true that you have never meet such a beautiful person as him before. His dark raven hair elegantly styled, tempting you to caress it. Slow and careful , there was a sure feeling inside you that he would enjoy it. His dark purple eyes were pulling you not only because of their rarity but also of their familiarity.

His eyes , they were as if not belonging to a stranger but someone dear. Someone who once hold you so intimately and carefully as if you were the most precious thing to that man.

What a bizarre thing to think , right? You should stop consuming so much media around romance . Look at where it got you, fantasying about a stranger.

You were broken out of your thoughts by his polite cough. Ah yes , your job.

" Will it be okay to order now?" His voice. Oh god , his voice smitten you. The smoothness of it was alluring , and yet you felt as if something was missing . As if he was not supposed to talk with you like that. It was lacking emotion.

You needed a rest for sure , cause you were begging to analyse his tone as if you knew this man. It doesn't matter that you felt as if he was faking his politeness or that you could sense the distaste for you in his glaze . You were overthinking . Even if it was true , he was just a stranger he was free to not like you.

You packed his order , two crepes with strawberries and cream and send him off. Not without asking to come visit your bakery again.

II Acquaintances

You didn't expected to see him again so soon , especially accompanied by two young girls . Him having daughters didn't come as strange to you, somehow you easily envisioned him as a dad.

You learn when asking that he adopted them. Another thing that should have surprised you but didn't.

You could see a slip of a genuine smile , sincere care towards his daughters . Unlike the first visit , this time the man sounded more at ease. You tried not to stare. You tried to calm your fast beating heart.

Luckily , you were to busy with your inner turmoil to notice the comments going between them.

Your lingering eyes were quite obvious to all of them. The girls were not trying to be quite with their growing distaste of you. How dare a monkey normal person like you stare at Geto- sama.

Tho , their words died down once they noticed him not paying attention . He wasn't looking at them no more. Suguru Geto 's eyes were lock on you figure , watching you so attentively. The sign left the twin speechless but they quickly come to the silent conclusion.

' The feeling in his eyes is far from hatred and akin to adoration.'

lll Friends

A whole year have past since the first encounter you two had , and many more have happened since then.

The small exchange of words grow to full on conversation. The stern out of politeness smile turn into a sincere one.

The closeness was getting short. You didn't wanted to assume but you also knew that the brushing of fingers wasn't caused only by you. Sometimes the twins even tag along in his visits . Your start with them was rocky but eventually they seemed to warm up to you, if your crepes being their favorites was enough of an evidence .

Life was becoming sweeter . Their regular presences in your life brought light that kept you warm in the cold month of December.

Till the night of 23.12 that is.

You have seen them earlier today , as they visits in the morning hours. By now your shop was closed as you were preparing some baked goodies. Having no one to share Christmas with for yet another year wasn't so nice but your neighbors were always kind enough to check up on you. That was the reason behind your predicament, being still in your shop.

You wanted to pay back their kindness with something fresh as possible. You knew how exciting the feeling of fresh baked bread was. The steam coming out of it , the softness that makes easier to break of a piece of it. You didn't know a bigger and more meaningful gift that you can give in return than that.

You were to lost in the making that you didn't notice how late was becoming. Neither did you notice the sound of broken glass. The steps that were coming close to the back room where you were just getting the last bread out of the oven were left unheard. You felt it before seeing him.

The feelings of weight wasn't new. There were moments before , where you have felt it. Usually on your shoulders making it painful to move them. Geto , the nice man he is somehow had been able to ease the pain every time with small touches.

This time it was way more stronger and painful making your fall on your knees and grasp the fabric of your shirt , right where your heart was. It was as if something was trying to get inside of your body and destroy it. As you tried to calm your breath you noticed him.

Suguru Geto was right there in the corner , watching you so coldly that it would have been the most hurtful thing that have ever happened to you if it was in any other scenario than now. It holds a second place after whether is making you breath harder and harder by the minute .

" it's going to be okay. I will put you out of your misery " he begin moving towards you. His look that you would have called eternal before were now frightening you. He was threateningly tall especially for you figure that was almost laying down on the flow .

" it would be over soon , don't worry"

" S-stay a-a..agh" pain. Everything was hurting . Your skin was burning and if you dared to look under your shirt you would have seen your skin peeling. Your heart. The goal was your heart and you couldn't fight it.

By now your fate was obvious, you were dying. The ugly and desperate cries was coming out of your mouth. Louder and louder as you pathetically tried to fight with the invisible monster that was eating you alive.

Your sounds were muffled as big , warm and otherwise comforting hand was put on your mouth. The hold was tight and strong as your eyes unconsciously move to meet his. The deep purple that you grow to admire and maybe even love met your dying out one. You didn't had the strength to show of your surprise , the first one regarding him, once you didn't saw malice but sadness in his eyes.

He was crying for the same person he was killing . Then why. Oh why. Why was this happening to you. Why was he the one to torments you if he was feeling sadness, remorse.

You were enable to focus on his words as he spoke , but even the ones you caught were not making any sense.

" … in another life … shouldn't have been … sorcer…"

As the live was living your body you could only think how this was the only time you didn't felt a sense of Deja vu as if it was not meant to happen. As if Suguru Geto did something wrong , not something meant to be. He grasp the fate in his two hands and bound it to his will , by killing the person meant to save him from the dark path he craved for himself. Marking the start of Christmas Eve the day you died.

IV lovers

Walking up in your bed and having the time to look around your room , to feel the layers of blankets and amount of pillows was rare for you. The girls , Mimiko and Nanako was gift for you and Suguru but sometimes it was to much. So to be able to wake up naturally and not by them meant only one thing. Suguru took care of them and left you to oversleep.

" look like my plan of being the one to wake you up was ruined huh?" There was the devil when you were thinking about him . His steps silent as always. he was leaning on the door frame with cup of coffee giving you that teasing smile of his that make you giggle every time in return.

Having now the freedom and time you let your eyes observe his matching set of comfy sweatpants and cami top and was it a sigh to behold. He was more tempting than the fresh cup of coffee.

" You may want to first wake up properly before doing anything else my love " the deep familiar laugh of his were making your heart go crazy even after years of being together.

" what? Is it to much to ask for a morning kiss from my husband?" Sitting on the middle of your king size bed you were patiently waiting for him to move closer

" kiss when I didn't even get a thanks from you" oh right , his look distracted you so easily that you forgot.

"Thank y-"

Suguru didn't leave you to finish as his soft lips were pressed against yours for a kiss . Quick but loving non the less .

" Here is your coffee" his velvety voice whispering against your lips were making your whole body burn. He took the place next to you while handling you the cup.

Letting out a sigh, both from being sleepy and the comfort you felt as your head rested on his shoulder.

" is something wrong? Usually you wouldn't stay at bed when we have the time for just us two"

Without moving your face , not wanting to meet his eyes when saying such thing, you replied.

" I had a terrible nightmare " he didn't said anything but putted his hand on your tight giving it small squeeze to inform you he was listening " I know it was just a dream but it was so vivid. You and the girls didn't know me , even despised me. There were some kind of spirits ? Monster ? And you… at the end you …" another comfortable squeeze . It was okay , dreams are just that. " you killed me"

At the last statement Suguru moved so he could meet your eyes. Cupping gently your face he comforted you.

"It's okay love, dreams are not real. I'm here , real and loving you." To make it clear to you he spent good two minutes to kiss your face while saying how much he adores you.

It was not needed but you were not going to stop him by any means. You knew he was right. No way Suguru Geto would ever danger your life, even more end it himself.

Both you and him were always going to be intertwined , that you were sure of . Your fate was for you two to be together, and fate couldn't be changed. Right?

[nalyra-dreaming]

Some comments on episode 3 / episode 10 - SPOILERS * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Daniel not wanting to eat the living fish…. yeah I can empathize

Raglan James - Is that a real name???? (LOL)

Love the banter

Daniel doubting how many Rashid’s there are… indeed

I like that they’re echoing Louis being away in last season this one as well

The underlying threat of Armand being able to kill them all if he so chose

That audio visualization will become important still I bet

How do you hide from the cloud indeed

Louis being asleep during the day?! Why this time? He was awake during the day before?

“Lestat’s prophetic vision”

Yes, be snarky Daniel :)

Flashback!!!!

Ugh incineration by fire gift

Oh Armand watching Lestat as harlequin - he has it baaaaad

Armand hinting that Lestat has powers he has not touched, and them talking to each other in their minds….

Viens a moi! Come to me!!! There it is! Armand said it to Lestat, yes baby!

And Armand admitting to stalking and then kidnapping.

And I love that they’re doing it all in French - I cannot quite judge but hope it’s well done

mhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh YES I CANNOT LIE I APPRECIATE IT AND I LOVE IT

the time freezing was so well done

Gosh Nicki. Gosh that feeding

to summarize: Liar, liar, pants on fire (LOL), but I love it. Ah yes, great fanfic, I like

Great now I will imagine Lestat and Armand beeeeeeeep in that box for ETERNITY lol

And Daniel… not buying it lol

“He abandoned xyz”… ohhhh there we have it. There we have it (not). The crux of the whole matter.

Louis knows what’s up. Deep down he knows. But them matching the stories is almost cute.

Claudia humbling herself like this to be part of it all breaks my heart

The sneezing made me cry with laughter

Ahhhh the wet room. And the rats. And the tombs. The tombs. Ohhhhh they’re so gonna lock Louis up there later. Oh boy.

“That’s a bit german” re the incinerator !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Holy shit?!)

God Lestat interrupting that moment. And Armand sensing “Bruce”. Daaaamn.

Daniel getting distracted but the Talamasca. Who have access to his computer. (!!!)

“Where is Claudia at this point” 😔 (and no answer)

Santiago’s maker being down in the tombs is IMMENSELY interesting. WHO THE FUCK IS HE

Also him telling Claudia that her lies are almost convincing….

The “come to me” scene. Even better in total. Oh Louis. Armand calling him out on it.

And the philosophical discussion there. The admission despite the warning. Something Louis ALMOST remembers…

“that’s debatable” - “she did”. Oh MAN LOUIS

“I told you I loved you” - “And you said nothing.” Holy hell.

THAT KISS. the music.

It’s RAW.

God they’re on another level

AND THE PHOTO: Lestat being there… and then vanishing!!!!

Louis knows. He knows. Also that little story Claudia makes up there… oof.

The Bacon triptych - that is so weird. WHO wants to buy it. I BET that’s important.

And Daniel using the time to go through the material and find the proof of the theater burning.

The coven pressuring Armand. I LOVED that. The trepidation. Ugh.

And them throwing Louis out when she is initiated. Does he know of the five laws??????

And Claudia’s expression at the laws. Oh maaaannnnnn.

And I KNEW it!! Armand is playing with the fire there “threatening” Louis. I mean, he ultimately doesn’t, but he ALMOST does. The discussion in the sewers. The foreshadowing once more. Louis calling on what Armand promised, and Armand throwing the lies into his face. DAMN.

And Armand stating that Claudia won’t be there for long.

God I knew the coven would go and humiliate Claudia with that role. I knew it. Damn. Her face.

“The Savage Garden”. The roaring of the fire behind Louis. More foreshadowing.

“Did he break you? Or did you break him?” 😭😭

A century ago. Yesterday. So much pain.

That kiss. And Louis inviting Armand in on the premise that he won’t kill him!!!!!!!!!! Holy shit.

NO PAIN.

AAAAALLLLLLL THE PAIN.

Argh, loved it, maybe a favorite so far. There is so much going on. So much foreshadowing. So much knowledge suppressed, or endured. So much bitter realization. So many things hinted at and introduced.

Also, as clear as it is (and was said in the episode insider) that this is Armand’s little fanfic version… (as Assad how much of it is used to "paint Armand in a good light"?!) :))) . It was a LOT of fun. :)

And that banquet scene will be in the next episode already!! Whoop whoop, cannot wait!