#I hope you all like these as much as I do

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[astonmartinii]

day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco

view all comments

user1: yall global warming might just be real

user2: you're only just realising it now ?

charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?

yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?

charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you

oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(

charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?

yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside

charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see

oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us

user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't

user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?

user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george

user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner

yourusername: please don't give them any ideas

oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩

landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?

yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?

landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents

oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo

landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL

yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man

landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?

yourusername: no.

user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her

user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure

view all comments

user10: i personally blame all of you for this

user11: and what??? i'm so excited

user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass

charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/

maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking

charles_leclerc: how would you know?

maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog

charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???

maxverstappen1: NO?

yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen

charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?

yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out

user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year

user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?

yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless

yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help

maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT

oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them

maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping

oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well

user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?

user16: a comedic genius

yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you

oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you

yourusername: i love you more

alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic

yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?

alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone

yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli

olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))

view all comments

user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie

olliebearman: i think it's cute

olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke

user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family

olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)

yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!

user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear

charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days

user19: sorry?

charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER

fernandoalo_oficial: and me?

charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man

fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are

charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion

fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children

charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit

charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA

maxverstappen1: well....

pepemarti: hi !!!

dinobeganovic: hey.....

yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie

user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them

lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting

yourusername: tell me about it

olliebearman: but not me :(

yourusername: no we love you

oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one

olliebearman: omg thank you :3

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris

yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless

view all comments

user22: what was the dress code here?

landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm

yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?

landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...

yourusername: yk what, whatever !

user23: omg of course leo was there as well

yourusername: we only invited charles for him

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

landonorris: he was invited ????

oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more

landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is

yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT

oscarpiastri: god i love you

yourusername: i love you even more

oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible

yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas

oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch

yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you

oscarpiastri: you're so romantic

georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence

yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???

oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way

maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off

georgerussell63: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well

maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me

maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently

yourusername: awwww thanks max!

oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy

georgerussell63: how did i lose this?

user24: max out here getting wags on his side

maxverstappen1: that's my ma

maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest

maxverstappen1: that's my home girl

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and 1,094,577 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍

view all comments

user25: oh they want me dead

user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake

user27: drop the recipe please xxx

yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it

user28: woman of the people

yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...

oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs

landonorris: he's not wrong

maxverstappen1: you're in my will now

charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law

yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?

charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension

landonorris: like father like son

charles_leclerc: huh?

landonorris: huh?

oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!

yourusername: fine.

yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality

yourusername: happy?

oscarpiastri: yes

oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS

maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight

georgerussell63: @fia i told yall

yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?

georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER

yourusername: you'll never prove it :P

user29: oscar is such a sassy man

yourusername: he gets it from his momma

oscarpiastri: and you :)

yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you

landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???

oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,130,672 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law

view all comments

user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now

user32: i NEED to know who asked for them

alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m

oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?

charles_leclerc: semantics

oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much

charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!

oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man

charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie

olliebearman: score !!!

user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they

user34: i think we're stuck with it

charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???

charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand

yourusername: he does have amazing taste

oscarpiastri: thank you :3

yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx

oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march

charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?

charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)

kimiantonelli: score !!!

yourusername: we would love to !

oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?

charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that

oscarpiastri: okay?

user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news

yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him

oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people

user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn

fin.

note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Ariana Grande said in an interview regarding the loathing era of Glinda and Elphaba's relationship that they are immediately fascinated with each other and part of what makes them initially have a negative reaction is that they both recognize in the other aspects of themselves, and parts they don't yet accept or feel comfortable with. Now, I will be the first to say: that sounds gay af. But in a serious analytical sense: that interpretation by Ariana is incredibly insightful because when you think about it, yeah — Elphaba wants the beauty and popularity that Galinda has (but feels wrong for it because she finds it shallow and dumb and thinks she's above that, so she just suppresses it in the hopes that the Right People will be able to look past her unpopularity and value her for her) and Galinda truly wants not only the intellectual recognition but the peculiar power to say NO to established reality that Elphaba has (but she is constantly being overlooked and prejudged as a shallow airhead, and despite receiving plenty of surface-level attention and affection feels like an outsider: like she's always wearing a mask, never fully connecting with anyone because her truest self is much too ✨🌈Unusually and Exceedingly Peculiar🌈✨ to ever let anybody else witness). They're both the first and only ones to see what the other wanted everyone to see in them, and in the process fall in love both with each other AND with those hidden centers of themselves.

They don't loathe each other — they loathe what the other makes them feel, which is twofold: the ✨🌈Sudden and New🌈✨ feelings, obviously; BUT ALSO some very deep-seated, old feelings that nobody else could (or would) ever confront.

tl;dr: it's the good ol' sapphic experience of "Do I Wanna Be Her or Bang Her?™" — except the "be her" would involve radical self-acceptance (hard pass), and neither of them have figured out that "bang her" is an option yet. Which is what makes their relationship so beautiful: they don't merely complete each other in the "they fit together like puzzle pieces" way — they complete each other in the "they helped each other to fall in love with the parts of themselves they'd spent their whole lives loathing" way. "Handprint on my heart" and all that. The best possible resolution to the "Do I Wanna Be Her or Bang Her?" conundrum: "We're Being Us Together AND We're Banging".

[pathologicalreid]

merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.

in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol

To: xreader@gmail.com From: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com Subject: Merry Christmas

Hey,

Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.

Good afternoon,

Much too formal.

Hello,

Too rigid.

Darling,

I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.

Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  

Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.

That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.

You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.

There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?

I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.

It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.

Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.

I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.

I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.

Merry Christmas,

Spencer

He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.

To: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com From: mailer-daemon@googlemail.com Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)

Message blocked.

Your message to xreader@gmail.com has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.

[andypantsx3]

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty—and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[moody-alcoholic]

Part 2 as promised.

Part 1

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, assault, mentions of SA, torture, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort.

_____________________

Ghost flicks the ash off his cigarette. 

“Do we know who we’re looking for?" Gaz asks. It's a pointless question. They know who they’re looking for. You’ve been mentioning a guy at work who has been getting a little too handsy. 

You were going to confront him in the new year with your boss. You didn’t want to ruin anyone's Christmas, now yours is ruined. 

People are starting to leave the office building now, it’s just past midnight. They watch in silence concealed in the darkness down an alleyway a few buildings from your workplace. Maybe this was the alley you were found down. It’s dark and cold, the businesses are all closed, it would have been easy to coerce you down, it makes his stomach drop. Someone hurt you, he hurt you. 

“Should have taken care of this sooner.” Gaz says. Ghost just hums watching as the lights in the buildings go off. The last few people are filtering out the building. Ghost straightens up flicking his cigarette but to the floor. 

“That’s him.” Ghost says, blowing out the smoke before reaching up to pull the familiar balaclava down over his face. 

_____________________

When the police arrive you feel somewhat sober. Your body is sore, your head throbbing. Seeing them walk in with all their gear makes you nervous. All of a sudden you feel like you’ve done something wrong. 

Johnny never leaves your side, he holds your hand stroking it with his thumb while the female officer asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. You still can’t remember what happened. You can piece it together though, you can tell by the hushed voices and the somber looks from people. 

The worst is the pain, the ache in your body every time you move, the bruises hurt the most.  Sometimes Johnny runs his fingers over them, his eyes going dark and he lets out a sigh. John stands at the end of the bed still, his gaze never leaves you unless someone enters the room. You just want to go home. 

The most embarrassing part is when they have to take pictures of your injuries. Your swollen eye is now turning black and blue. There’s bruises around your neck, talking hurts, swallowing’s worse. The nurse gives you more painkillers but it just makes you feel sick. 

John talks with the officers and the nurse after they’re done. Johnny tries to keep your attention on him. You feel embarrassed, the nurse said they did a rape kit, you don’t even remember that, the police need to take it for evidence. That makes silent tears come, you can’t stop them. 

“C’mon, none of that love.” Johnny says reaching up to brush them away. 

“I want to go home,” you sob. 

“We’ll be home soon, promise,” he smiles. You want a shower, you want to scrub your body clean. You feel dirty, your stomach is turning as your mind wanders to the unthinkable. You hope you never remember what happened, you fear you won’t be so lucky.

_____________________

Ghost’s fist meets his cheek, his nose is broken, his jaw will be next. Not now though, now they need him to talk. 

“Price says he’s on his way.” Gaz says as he walks back over to him. “Asked you not to kill him.” Ghost just grunts. 

Ryan, that's his name. You never mentioned that to them, you didn’t mention much just that he was making you uncomfortable. Gaz was right they should have dealt with this sooner. They shouldn’t have let you go to the party alone. Even before you left you had reservations. 

Ryan hasn’t said much. He was very drunk when they picked him up. He seems pretty sober now, he’s scared. 

Good, he should be.

Ghost wonders if you were scared, when you were assaulted. It doesn’t seem like you remember much, for your sake he hopes it stays that way. 

The door to the secluded warehouse opens, the sound of slamming metal echoes in the space. John bought this place a few months ago, used to store scrap metal. The place still smells of rust, but it’s outside the city center, it’s quiet and that's all they need. 

Price walks over coming out of the darkness. He doesn’t say a word, just takes in the scene. Ryan looks up, his eyes glued on the new person walking up to him. Price grabs the back of a chair and places it in front of him before sitting down. 

“Ryan, right?” He asks. The man nods. “Had a good night? He doesn’t move. 

“Do you like your job?” He nods again. Price leans forward. “So, let's have a chat about what happened tonight.” 

“Nothing happened tonight,” he says, swallowing hard. Price smiles at him for a second before sitting back up.

“Let’s try that again. What happened at the party?” Ryan looks confused for a second. Blood is still dripping from his nose, Price sighs this is going to be a long night. 

“Wait, is this all about her?” He asks looking up past Price at Ghost. “Look I don’t know what you think happened but she came onto me.” 

Price hums his hands gripping his thighs before getting up and moving the chair away. “Thing is, I just don’t believe you.” Ghost steps back over to him. 

“I’m telling the truth.” He pleads. 

“Nope, try again.” Price says. Ghost’s fist crashes into Ryans face. His head snaps uncomfortably, he spits blood coughing. 

“So what happened at the party?” Price asks again. 

“Who the fuck even are you!?” He shouts looking round at the 3 men standing in front of him.  

“That doesn’t matter.” Price says, Ryan scoffs spitting again. 

“Why do you care?” He asks, looking around at everyone. 

“It’s a simple question.” Price says bending down so his head is level with his face. “We can be here all night. Or you can be honest with us.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, there’s a shake in his voice. The adrenaline and alcohol pumping through his system is filling him with confidence. They have to break that first. Price sighs moving back to stand with Gaz. 

This time Ghost’s fist slams into his stomach. He buckles over in pain, crying out as he pants. Price doesn’t wait, striding over to him grabbing his hair, pulling his head back. 

“Okay, okay. But she was drunk!” He shouts, trying to fight Price’s grip. His arms and legs are tied to the chair. Price doesn’t let go of his head holding it back as far as it will go. 

“No. Try again.” Price says through gritted teeth. 

“I didn't do anything!” He says between breaths. Price looks up at Ghost and nods, Ghost unfolds his arms going back over to the car. 

“We can make this very uncomfortable for you. All we need is the truth.” Price says, pulling his head again. 

“I don’t know anything.” There’s a whimper in his voice, a crack in his confidence. They're getting there. Price forces his head straight as Ghost comes back over to them twirling the knife in his hand. Ryans eyes go wide, his arms and legs pulling on the restraints. Price keeps his grip firm on his head forcing him to look at Ghost’s hulking figure moving towards him. 

“Last chance.” Price says. Ryan doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked onto Ghost. 

“I-I didn't-” He sucks in a breath of air swallowing. “She was drunk!” 

Price sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at Ghost, he can see the disgust behind his lieutenants eyes. 

Ghost plunges the knife into his thigh. Price lets go of Rhyn’s head as he screams.

_____________________

John left almost an hour ago. Johnny recommended a bath instead of a shower, so you could soak and warm up. He gets in the bath with you pulling your back up against his chest as you sit between his legs. The bath was a good idea, the water is almost too hot but you don’t mind. 

It feels good to be in Johnny’s arms. He helps you rub soap over your body. He’s gentle, pressing kisses on your shoulders avoiding your neck. You sigh, relaxing back into him. Your head is still stuffy, it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask. 

“Out, they’ll be back soon don’t worry.” He says his voice is warm in your ear. His arms squeeze you closer to him. The memories of the night seem to be just out of reach, you remember a face though. 

“I know who it was,” you say your voice catches in your throat. 

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” His hand comes to push hair behind your ear. You smile, you don’t want to talk about it but maybe it will help. 

“I have work tomorrow.” Your stomach sinks. The thought of going back to that place with him there. Having to spend the days avoiding him, brushing off his hands as they squeeze your ass or his fingers press against your breasts. You were going to talk to your boss about him in the new year. 

“No you don’t, don’t worry about anything.” He says kissing your shoulder again. You shiver, the water has lost its heat. Johnny shifts pushing you forward. 

“C’mon let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.” You don’t know if you believe him but he gets out the bath leaving you alone and cold. You feel dirty, used. You feel panic rising in your chest. As soon as you hear the door to the room open you lay down in the tub closing your eyes and holding your breath. 

Your mind goes back to the alley, it’s like flashes in your vision, the dump trash bin you’re uncomfortably bent over. A hand over your mouth then round your neck. The pain, the pain is unbelievable. You don’t remember how it happened, how you ended up there, the next thing you remember is a party of drunk women finding you. Then the paramedics showed up. 

Your lungs burn but you don’t care. You deserve the pain. Hands grip your arms pulling you up out of the water. 

“Christ love,” Johnny says, holding you against him as you pant sucking in breaths of air. The panting turns to sobbing. He reaches, pulling the plug out the bath and picking you up in his arms. 

“I know, love I know.” He takes you into the bedroom putting you down on the bed. You pull your legs up to your chest. Johnny dries you, rubbing you down while you sob. He brings pyjamas over, he helps you change, pulling the fresh clothes on you. You still feel dirty, maybe it will always be like this. You don’t want it to be like this.

“It hurts.” You say as he climbs into bed behind you. His arms wrap around you pulling your back against his chest. 

“You’re okay lass, you’re safe.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s not, it's not going to be okay. You just hope whatever the others are doing they’re safe. You miss them, you want to see them again. You want everything to go back to normal 

…

Simon crawls into the bed with you and Johnny. You’re asleep on Johnny’s chest. He shuffles up against your back wrapping his arm around you both. His hair is still wet from the shower. He kisses the top of your head. Johnny stirs feeling a hand grip his hip. 

“Did you get him?” Johnny asks, his voice still sleepy. 

“Yeah, we got him.” 

_____________________

[street-smarts00]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 

WC: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)

Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 

This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 

What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 

You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 

You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 

While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 

He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 

“Are you at least winning?” 

He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 

That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 

Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 

Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 

“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 

JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 

“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 

JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 

He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 

“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 

Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 

You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 

“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 

Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?

You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.

“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.

When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 

Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 

“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.

Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 

“Did you paint this?” He asked.

You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 

A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 

“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 

The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 

“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 

“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 

The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 

The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 

You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 

Not that he had to know you loved him. 

He didn’t know that. Right? 

As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 

You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 

“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 

You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.

“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 

He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 

You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”

His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 

He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.

“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”

You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“

“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 

“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 

“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”

”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  

The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.

”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 

While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 

“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”

“But, that was three months ago.”

He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”

Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 

“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 

You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 

His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 

Your heart damn near stopped. 

“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 

“I’d love to,” you beamed. 

His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 

You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”

“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 

God he was cute. 

“That sounds great.”

[koalayoo]

Men who talk a certain way.

They carry themselves with elegance, talk with a poised cadence unique to them. They hold themselves upright and have an air of superiority. A cunning look, signature smirk, firm hand; these are staples of their character, they know how to strike a deal. Whether for their people or their own gain, they intimidate those to gain an advantage no matter how many exploits gone through or people exploited.

People either love or fear them.

They’re important.

It’s no surprise that they sit at the centre of the table at a meeting, commanding attention. All eyes are on them, gripping their every word. Prompt nods and murmurs of agreements follow. They’re smart too. Incredible wit and perceptiveness as they continuously glance at everyone, especially you.

Fuck, and they’re hot too.

It makes your blood run hot. Jolts shoot throughout your body and you avert your gaze. It was stupid to you to be losing your cool for a man who felt indifferent about your existence. Maybe that isn’t the right word. 

Sometimes, you would question whether he hated you. Whenever you needed a pen, your hands brushed against one another for a second and he would quickly pull back as if being stung by a bee with a slight scowl forming on his face. If the piles of paper you needed to finish took too long, he would be adamant you finish for the night, which is all fine and dandy if he wasn’t looking for help from others to complete your work. He even reprimanded you, talked to you in that familiar stern tone once for not having your priorities in place when a stranger came up to you in a flirtatious manner as if you could control that. 

He pissed you off. 

Why couldn’t he care about you like a normal person?

However, you were wrong about all of it. He cared too much.

When your fingers grazed him he was ridden with guilt, these were the same hands he would think about at night. Imagine tracing the sharp edges of his skin. He would shut his eyes and throw his head back, replacing his hands with your own. Try to commit the soft feel of yours to his. Would you go slow or fast? He wondered. How would you hold him? Would you let him make a mess? His thoughts would trail on and on questioning your grip, your face, what you would say.

So, it was no surprise when he saw you working yourself to exhaustion that he wanted you to rest. That was his duty after all. Only he could do that. The eyes that he desperately wanted to see glazed over with a lust filled haze needed to be well rested first. That way, he could slowly see them become drunk for him, turning red, bloodshot from just how well he would treat you.

And it was especially no surprise that when another person had the audacity to want you too, he had to stop them. Sure, you didn’t deserve the scolding but he would make you feel so much better later on. He just had to be patient.

Had to keep his tone steady and tame. Pretend to treat you just like everyone else. Even if you thought he hated you. He could fuck you like that too if you wanted. He would give you anything you wanted. However, you didn’t deserve to know how depraved he truly was.

There was a thought that lingered at the forefront of his mind. If you found out just how he imagined you, would you leave? He figured you might feel disgusted, a man of his caliber, his power, wanting to succumb to you. And so he continued to talk. Continued to keep his tone steady. Keep his tone tame. 

He would keep himself in line; refined. Because if you found out how he was imagining you, perhaps then this man would truly feel fear.

fantasising about...

Sylus, NEUVILLETTE, Jing Yuan, Welt, Sunday, DAN HENG, Artem, Zhongli!, Gepard, Alhaitham?, Cyno ...and anyone else you're thinking of

Hope you liked this! Inspired by the song 'Talk' by Hozier. Specifically the line, "So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you." Please give it a listen! It was in my Spotify Top 5 it's so good and captures the vibe I was trying to go for with this. Sorry for the yap. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[xo-adeline]

"To change for you..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Things the Blue Lock boys do after picking it up from you Feat. Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, and Rin Itoshi

AN: I have the freaking cutest idea for a Wakasuki fanfic but nobody knows him and it's so sad...

Michael Kaiser ⋆°• ☁︎ - Listening to certain songs that he knows you like when he’s traveling

He never realized that he would have missed you this much when he was traveling. For the few months that he was still back in Germany with you, the thoughts of traveling had crossed his mind many times, and with a scoff and the thoughts that he used to do it alone all the time pushed the ideas to the back of his brain, well until now; Now when he was sitting on the Bastard München bus on the way to the PXG stadium for their next match, the long, almost 14-hour, bus ride they had, and every second since he had been on that bus, he missed you. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, including you. So what better way than to either A. attempt to text you, But that sounded desperate, or B. do something that reminded him of you. And with his limited options, he scrolled his phone to find something that could bring him back to the thought of you, even if you weren’t there with him. To which that’s when he found it. A couple of weeks ago you had stolen his phone, saying that you were just looking at the weather, but rather, you knew he had a Spotify account and only listened to the songs he wanted to, so you put together a playlist for him of some songs you think he should listen to, including some of your favorites. He couldn’t help but give a little smile when he saw the playlist cover being a picture of the two of you at one of his previous games, and within no time he pressed the play button and started to listen through the songs, thoughts of you running through his head matching up with every song lyric.

Isagi Yoichi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Using more creative insults on the field after you used them against him

It all started a couple weeks after you had started dating and you got into a little spat about where to go for dinner, him trying to be nice and let you decide and you being indecisive and pushing it back on him. All going relatively nicely until you turned around and said:

“You decide, you wet noodle! I can’t pick.”

And he stood there for a second, a little surprised. A wet noodle? That wasn’t something you heard every day. So he let out a slight chuckled and picked a place he knew you would like and the two of you went there for dinner that night. The same thing with a couple other insults had happened a few times, being called a multitude of other things, and even hearing you’d snide comments sometimes about how you hoped that a person that cut you off in traffic ‘stepped into a puddle with only socks on.’

Now with these thoughts inside his head, and Barou running his mouth he could only turn towards him and give a dirty glare before pulling this out of his pocket:

“I hope you’re sleeves slide down while you’re washing your hands.”

Before turning back around and heading anywhere else in the building where he wasn’t. To which the rest of the people standing there could only look surprised, the same guy who called Barou much worse, just wished a minor inconvenience on him? What was happening?

Nagi Seishiro ⋆°• ☁︎ - Showing a little more effort rather than just in scoring goals

Reo could only look confused at the white-haired man as he was actually trying on some of the new training regiments given to them by Chris Prince. Even when he looked over to the coach, he looked a little shocked. It wasn’t that Nagi didn’t try, it’s that he had never tried this hard before. He did everything just enough for it to be acceptable and then move on with his life, well that was until he saw how hard you worked for things. He never understood why people worked hard until you had come home with a good grade on your test, the same test he had watched you work for hours and hours trying to study the material and cram into your head before you had to take it. The way that you smiled and were so excited that the work you did paid off gave him this spark of inspiration that he needed to see what it was like to train hard and then have that achievement pay off in the end. So when he went back to practice, he tried harder than he ever did before, even earning a couple comments asking if he was okay, or if he was dying and trying a little harder was his dying wish. All of which he responded a simple ‘no’ to before walking off to get water or work on something else. The only person who could actually figure out the truth was Reo, who had asked him if it had something to do with you. He just shrugged and nodded.

“They came home all happy one time because they studied hard and got a good grade and I wanted to know what that felt like… They clung onto me for a whole 15 minutes after… and I liked it so maybe If I do good I can do that to them..”

Reo could only laugh a little as he watched Nagi walk away. He would definitely have to send you a thank you card, Chris Prince’s signature in there as well as he had tried to ask Nagi the same question and it totally backfired.

Shidou Ryusei ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to settle arguments with words instead of his foot

The famous fighter, Shidou Ryusei, was actually trying to have a conversation. Nobody ever thought there would be a day. Well, except for one person, you. The same person who had told him off a multitude of times that he can’t just hurt people whenever he was pissed off at them, and there were much better ways to go about it. Even after days of him trying to get you to see his side of it, and you already, after hearing his explanation a few weeks ago, deeming it not the best way to settle things. So here he was now, putting his ego aside to make sure that Loki or Ego didn’t have to call you for the 4th time this week to try to get him to behave and attempt to try to not kick Rin square in the face after he stole a goal from him. Even Loki was surprised when Shidou was about to raise his foot, just to stop himself, mutter something, and then turn to Rin, attempting to try and talk it out. The first thought in everybody's mind, was this even Shidou? After Rin had walked away from him Loki came jogging over to him and trying to make sure he was okay.

“Ya’ I’m fine, jus’ the pretty thing back home ya’ always have to call told me to get my shit together, so I’m tryin’ talk it out with lower lashes.”

Loki looked surprised, I mean he knew from talking to you before that you were close with Shidou, but little did he know that you basically had the man wrapped around you’re finger. They’ve been trying to get him to talk something out for the entire time he was in Blue Lock, but he leaves for a few days and comes back a whole new person? The staff would be sending you thank you cards, as well as a small gift instead of having to pay the hospital bills from anybody else Shidou would’ve sent.

Rin Itoshi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to be a little nicer to others

The world must have stopped turning and we were all gonna die. That was the only thing Isagi could think after he heard Rin actually complimenting somebody. Was it a backhanded compliment? Absolutely, but did he still say something nice to Nanase, yes. Isagi could only stare in shock as he walked over to him next, ready to be degraded or ignored for anything he did, until Rin stopped, cursing under his breath.

“You’re a shitty person, but at least you can score a decent goal..”

The world stopped, he was sure of it. There was no way the Rin Itoshi, had just come up to him and told him he could score a decent goal. So when he stood there a little confused Rin couldn’t help but curse a little more.

“This isn’t because I like you. It’s because I like my partner. Got it?”

And with that he headed off again, going who knows where.

Thought he didn’t learn the fully story until much later on when Shidou had been talking about it Charles and he had overheard. Apparently, Rin’s partner had been pretty upset when they realized that he was pretty mean overall, and wanted him to at least attempt being nicer, so the next time he saw somebody he knew he at least tried to give them a compliment, just attempting to make his partner a little less upset with him.

Isagi knew that it was just a little thing, but lord, he was sure that if Rin would go around complimenting other people, if you asked for the world to burn, he would set it on fire just so you wouldn’t be upset.

[planetpedri]

hiii……. lando comes home and shows reader his new haircut?

Lover // over the moon 𖦹 Lando Norris !

Summary. Lando hadn’t told you about his haircut and he was.. well, scared to show you.. but your response quickly put his worried to rest.

Word count. 395+

Disclaimers. basically fluff idk

Bea speaks! okay so i don’t really know where i was going w this..? i hate it but i hope vee likes it!!….

Lando’s voice calling out your name only had you momentarily pausing, the wet plate in your hand nearly slipping. “In the kitchen!” You call out over your shoulder, setting the dish into the dishwasher.

His foot steps are soft on the wooden floor as he slowly makes his way toward you, “how was your day?” He asks casually when you don’t immediately turn to greet him.

Your lip curves, “good. And yours?”

Lando, still nervous, his stomach doing flips at the thought of anything but a good reaction from you—gingerly steps closer, his arms slithering around your waist. The action elicited a small laugh from you, tipping your head to the side as he placed a kiss to your shoulder.

“Better now.” He mumbles against your skin. “Also, don’t like—freak out or anything, but..”

The sweet moment was well over. You spin around in his arm, eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Lando is silent as your eyes dart over his head, your fingertips pressing into his cheeks as you push it side to side.

“Why was I not consulted?” Your eyebrows lift and your gaze drops to his eyes. Noticing the worry displayed across your boyfriend’s adorable face, you soften. “I’m not complaining. Just.. well, i’m surprised! That’s all.”

His expression lifts at your comforting words, “it was an impulsive decision, plus.. Oscar and I had a bet. I lost.”

A laugh tumbles off your lips, “what?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The man grumbles lowly. “Do you like it or is a beanie going to have to make an appearance?”

Feigning to think, your finger grazes his cheek. “I actually,” you pause, tilting his head again, examining the way the sides slowly faded, “I actually love it.” Your tone was almost surprised, like you hadn’t thought you’d actually like it so much.

“Yeah?” His face lights up one again, his smile lifting to show his tooth gap. “Good.”

Mirroring his wide smile, you place a kiss to his mouth. “I have to finish cleaning the dishes.” You pull away and pat his cheek. “Next time you want a haircut, tell me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He says, voice full of amusement before stepping back and making his way to the fridge. All anxieties he had about your disapproval, long since faded.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lando posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @sakashq @joaoflms @h4vertzz

[kekewrites]

tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues

Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.

It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.

Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.

That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.

***

You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.

He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.

It's not a bad thing.

But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.

"Come on... Don't look at me like that."

He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.

Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.

"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.

He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.

"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.

Thump, thump, thump.

Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.

He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.

"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.

"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"

He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.

Were you trying to say welcome back?

His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."

You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"

Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.

Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...

It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.

"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.

Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.

His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.

"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.

He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."

When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."

Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.

His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."

It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.

"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.

You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.

Oh.

It's starting again hm?

Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.

***

The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"

Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.

His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he demands.

And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.

But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.

"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.

He'll do anything for his girl.

Anything.

[flemingology]

O is for the only one I see ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 2 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you and Alexia have your first communication mishap after a family meeting gone wrong

warnings: argument, miscommunication, insecure reader

wc: 7.9k

an: i hope you understand the concept lol. i think the name 'miniseries' makes it sound like it's all gonna be 1 continuous story but it's more a one-shot vibe based on a lyric each time, as i describe in the summary. nonetheless, hope you enjoy!

In the past few months, Alexia had seamlessly become a part of your every day in ways you never thought possible. From her quiet insistence on walking you to your car after late dinners to the way she texted you pictures of her travels when she was away for games, it felt... natural. Easy, even. But meeting her family? That was a whole new level, one you weren’t sure you were ready for.

The way Alexia spoke about her family never failed to fill you with warmth. The way she, her mother and her sister bonded together over the course of their lives was something you could only admire. They were pillars in her life, the people she would fall back on when everything else in her life seemed to be going south. And now, you were about to meet them. It wasn’t just nerves bubbling under the surface, it was the nagging doubt if you were going to fit in. If they would approve of you, think of you worthy enough to date their daughter.

Alexia didn’t date. Hadn’t, in a good few years. She held herself to high standards and her family knew that, so they only wanted what was best for her. Whether that’s what you were, they’d have to see. What if they don’t like you?

“You know they’re going to love you,” Alexia said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, as you smoothed down your shirt for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. You shot her a glare. “You say that now. Wait until Alba starts grilling me like a detective.” She laughed, walking over to you and fixing your collar. She cradled your face, hands on your cheeks and pressed a reassuring, lingering kiss against your lips. “If Alba says anything, I’ll handle her. I just want you to be yourself.” You shot her a grateful smile, turning your gaze back at the mirror, taking your appearance in another time.

“Do you think this is too much? Or… not enough? I can change if you want, I have another couple options laying on the bed.” Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and some of your nerves settled at the warmth that radiated from her embrace. She pressed gentle kisses against the side of your neck, you leaning your head back against her shoulder to allow her more space. “You look perfect. My family is not expecting royalty, you know. They’re just excited to meet you.” You turned in her grasp then, tucking a couple strands of hair behind her ear. “Excited to meet me? Or excited to see if I’m good enough for you?”

Your girlfriend–– it still felt surreal to call her that, chuckled at that, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Mi vida, stop. They won’t judge you. Mami will probably try and feed you whatever she’s been cooking since this morning the second you walk through the door, and my sister will ask you a hundred questions about how we met.” You stayed silent at that, taking a moment of appreciation for the kindness and understanding that came from your lover.

“You’re overthinking. They’re going to love you. How could they not?” Alexia tilted your head back up, her eyes meeting yours. “Because I’m not… you. I don’t have the perfect career or the perfect family. What if they think I’m not good enough?”

Alexia bit her lip at that, before taking your hand and leading you back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You did, your knees on either side as you faced her again. “First of all, I’m not perfect. And second, that’s not how my family works. They don’t care about status or titles. All they care about is kindness, respect, and whether you make me happy.” The Spaniard rested her forehead against yours as she spoke.

“And do I?” “Every single day.”

As you left the bedroom together, Alexia threw another look towards you over her shoulder. “Oh, and for the record, if anyone asks you about football. The answer is always Barca.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at her words. “Noted. You’re going to owe me for this.” “Dinner with the Putellas clan is a small price to pay. Trust me.”

The apartment door clicked shut behind you, and you’re met with the cold afternoon air on a wintery Saturday in Barcelona. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around your figure, already cursing yourself for having dressed too lightly for the occasion. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the quiet neighbourhood, the orange-yellow hues bouncing off the cobblestone pavement beneath your feet. You despised Winter. Despised the cold, despised the dark mornings and dark evenings.

Alexia’s car brought you back to your senses. It’s familiar, and the way Alexia’s perfume lingers and mixes with the faint sense of leather calmed you down. The soft hum of the engine the only sound between the two of you. You couldn’t bear the silence any longer though, as if it was weighing you down with each passing minute.

“Okay, let’s set some expectations. What’s the worst thing your family could say or ask tonight?” Alexia glanced over at you, an amused smile on your face as she expertly manoeuvred the steering wheel one-handed. “Worst thing? Hmm… Mami might ask if you know how to make paella. She likes to test people on their cooking knowledge.” You scoffed nervously at her words. “Great. Let me just Google how not to butcher a classic Spanish dish before we get there.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you. “Relax. You could burn your toast and they’d still like you.” You didn’t respond at that, and that led to your girlfriend briefly squeezing your knee, and then resting her hand on your thigh. “I’m serious. You don’t have to impress anyone. Just… be yourself.” You looked out the window, looking at the passing cars. “I wish I had your confidence.” “You don’t need that. You have mine.”

The roads were quiet for the time of day, but there’s a faint hum of life outside. The city felt alive but not overwhelming. Alexia’s playlist waltzed through the background, the songs that remind you of your lover calming your senses once again. You noticed the way she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, her relaxed demeanor helping you stay calm. You didn’t want to mess this up. It had been a while since Alexia had seen her family, properly, for more than a couple short moments after a game. Somehow, you hadn’t met them yet. The games you went to, they couldn’t come and vice versa. It was Alexia’s mum that insisted she brought you to the family dinner, something that on its own should’ve calmed your nerves, but the rational part of your brain was completely at the mercy of the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt.

The journey didn’t take as long as expected, traffic not nearly as bad as either of you had foreseen. Alexia’s hand was tracing soft, reassuring patterns on your thigh and your hand was on top of hers, steadling grounding yourself with her touch. Before you knew it, Alexia pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. “Oh God, I didn’t realize we were here already.” Alexia chuckled, but stayed silent for a moment. She let you come to your senses, knowing you were going to be fine, but just needed a moment to ground yourself. Your eyes searched the area, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cars that were all around the house. “Baby, how many people are here tonight?” Alexia winced at that, having forgotten to mention that it was never only close family when the Putellas’s came together. She tried to remain casual, though. “Eh, maybe like 20 people? Just a small group. It’ll be okay, amor.” You mumbled something incoherently under your breath and Alexia wished it wasn’t you cursing her out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as you opened your door and stepped outside.

“So, any final words?” You questioned, your hand resting on the doorbell, not quite ready to ring yet. “Smile. Be yourself. Don’t let mami overwhelm you with food.” You cocked your eyebrows at her. “Mhm, that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail at one of those things?” Alexia pressed a kiss against your temple, mumbling her next words against your hair. “Then you’d still look cute failing.” You rolled your eyes. “Such a charmer, Alexia. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “Completely. But seriously, you’ve got this.” Your girlfriend took your hand in hers for a second and gave a reassuring squeeze, before she eventually rang the doorbell.

Eli’s face lit up inexplicably wide at the sight of her daughter. “Mi niña, look at you, you’re finally here.” She pulled Alexia into a tight hug first, and by Alexia’s body language, you could tell that she needed this. She practically smothered her daughter with affection, but Alexia quickly became second best the moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softening into one of pure warmth. “And you must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about!” Before you could even fully process her words, she’s wrapping you in a firm, welcoming embrace. The scent of her lavender perfume and something faintly sweet invaded your senses, and it immediately struck you as a homely feeling. Her hug lingered just long enough to feel sincere, and when she pulled back, her hands settled gently on your shoulders.

“Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out here in the cold. I’ve been so excited to meet you." Alexia watched the interaction with a fond smile, her gaze flickering between you and her mum as you stepped into the warmth of the house. It felt almost surreal. The cozy hum of voices from the living room, the inviting smell of food wafting from the kitchen. You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this; this immediate sense of belonging. You couldn’t help but glance at Alexia, a smile creeping onto your face despite your earlier nerves. She noticed, her own smile widening in response.

But as Eli ushered you both further inside, you caught a fleeting glance exchanged between Alexia and her mum. It’s quick, almost unnoticeable, but something about it tugged at the edge of your thoughts. Maybe it was the slight furrow in Eli’s brow that smoothed out too quickly, or the way Alexia’s smile dimmed just a fraction before she responded. It passed before you could think too much of it, overshadowed by Eli’s bright chatter as she guided you toward the living room. But the seed of doubt was planted, small but persistent.

The living room buzzed with warmth and chatter as Eli guided you inside. The people gathered are lively, her relatives talking over one another, kids darting around in a chaotic blur, and a general air of familiarity you can almost taste. “Come, let me introduce you,” Eli said with a bright smile, tugging you further into the room. Alexia stayed close, her hand lightly resting at your lower back, an anchor as you’re passed from one family member to the next.

First, it’s Alexia’s aunt. A lively woman with curly hair and a booming laugh, pulled you into a tight hug as though she’s known you for years. “Oh, so this is her,” she said knowingly, nudging Alexia with a grin. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she is.” “Tía” Alexia mumbled, her ears turning pink, but the playful reprimand only made her aunt laugh harder. “And polite, too, I bet,” the aunt added, turning to you. “Please, call me Tía Marta. Now tell me, is she as much of a neat freak at home as she was when she was a kid? She used to get mad if I folded a towel the ‘wrong way.’” Alexia groaned behind you, but you laughed, feeling a little more at ease.

Up next is Alexia’s grandmother. She was smaller than you expected, her frame delicate but her spirit vibrant. She took your hands in hers, her skin soft and warm, and looked up at you with kind, twinkling eyes. “Eres preciosa, niña,” she said softly, her voice comforting. You managed a thank you in your best Spanish, and she beamed with pride. “Her Spanish is good!” she told Alexia in Catalan, patting your hand. “Abuela,” Alexia interjected gently, translating for you with a smile. “She says you’re beautiful.” “Well, she’s beautiful too,” you responded shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under the older woman’s approving gaze.

Then suddenly, a young cousin, the boy probably no older than six, bolted toward Alexia the second he walked in, arms wide and squealing her name. Alexia catched him mid-run, spinning him around effortlessly. It struck a chord somewhere inside of you, but you weren’t ready to develop the thought yet that was simmering at the back of your mind. “Who’s this?” the little boy asked once he’s settled in Alexia’s arms, pointing at you.

“This is my... friend,” Alexia said carefully, glancing at you with a flicker of hesitation. The little boy looked at you curiously before deciding, “She’s pretty. Do you like Spiderman?” Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh, yes? I think he’s cool.” “Good,” the cousin declared, nodding seriously. “Because I don’t like boring people.” You shared a laugh with Alexia, who shook her head fondly.

At one point a couple minutes later, an uncle, already stationed near the appetizers, offered you a small plate. “Try this,” he said, holding up a slice of jamón ibérico. “This is the best you’ll ever taste.” You accepted it, and the flavor immediately melted on your tongue. “Wow,” you exhale, impressed. He grinned, nodding approvingly. “I told you. Good taste,” he said, pointing at you before winking at Alexia. “This one’s a keeper, eh?” Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even had the croquetas yet.” “Croquetas?” you asked, curious. “Just wait,” Alexia replied, her smirk confident.

Eli stole you away then, leading you with her to the sofa. “She talks about you, you know,” she said quietly, handing you a glass of wine. You blinked in surprise. “She does?” “Every time we talk,” she said with a smile, her eyes soft as they glanced toward Alexia. “You make her happy.” Your heart swelled, and you glanced at your girlfriend across the room, who was talking to her cousin again. She must’ve felt your eyes on her because she looked back, offering a small smile that’s just for you.

But then, there was a change in the air. It was not outright hostility, not even close. But as the introductions continued– they seemed endless, there was a distinct feeling in the back of your mind that you couldn’t ignore. A couple of the older relatives asked pointed questions about your work. Questions that felt almost like challenges, though they were wrapped in polite tones. “So, what do you do exactly? Must be quite demanding, no?” You answered as best as you can, without wanting to seem too affected by the unpleasant tone you’re being spoken to. 

As you were chatting with another of Alexia’s cousins, one of her aunts– not the one that welcomed you so warmly earlier, interrupted the conversation with a comment that caught you off guard. “Well, I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks dating a footballer is all glamour and fame. It’s hard work, you know.” The words are said with a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. Almost. But there’s something about the way her eyes lingered on you, as though she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. “Oh no, I wouldn’t think that at all.” You stammered, trying to laugh it off. Before you could say more, Alexia stepped in smoothly. It’s like she felt the discomfort oozing off you through the room, and she was by your side in a mere couple seconds to defuse the situation. “She’s not one of those people. Trust me.” Her aunt gave a small nod, her smile tight as she moved on to another conversation.

The exchange left you rattled, though you’re not entirely sure why. It wasn’t outright rude, but it felt like a test, one you’re not certain you passed. As the evening went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were under a microscope. Most of the family was kind and welcoming, but a few interactions left a sour taste, small enough to make you doubt whether you’re overthinking it or not.

Your mind drifted back to the glance Alexia exchanged with her mom earlier. Was it about you? Were they worried about bringing you into this tightly-knit family dynamic? You glanced at Alexia, who was across the room now, laughing with her sister. She looked completely at ease, as though she belonged in this moment in a way you could never hope to. The doubt crept in again, insidious and unwelcome. Did you really fit into her world?

The room was alive with conversation and laughter, but your thoughts felt far too loud. You were perched at the edge of the couch, smiling politely as Eli chatted animatedly with a group of relatives nearby. Alexia caught your eye from across the room, her easy smile fading when she saw the tension in your shoulders. Excusing herself from the conversation she’s in, she made her way over to you, her movements casual so as not to draw attention. She sat next to you, her hand comfortingly placed on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” You take a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, because the last thing you’d want is to be a burden. “Yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed”, you eventually settled on. Her hand softly brushed against your knee and it brought you a sense of comfort. “They already love you, you know.” Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself believe them. You nod, offering her a small smile. Thanks. I think I just need a minute to adjust.” Your girlfriend squeezed your knee and then stood up, moving back across the room to where she was before she came over to you. 

You started to relax again, letting the hum of conversations wash over you, but then you heard it; a hushed voice from somewhere nearby, just loud enough to catch your ear. “She seems nice, but do you think she’s really with Alexia for the right reasons? I mean, it must be intimidating, dating someone like her. Maybe she just likes the idea of it.” The words hit like a gut punch. You glanced around, trying to place the speaker, and your stomach sank when you saw it’s the same cousin who’d been teasing earlier. She was speaking to another relative, who nodded slightly but didn’t add anything to the comment.

“Well, she does seem a bit… out of her depth. But Alexia must see something in her.” “Yeah, but for how long? I mean, Alexia needs someone who can handle all of this. The attention, the traveling, the pressure. Do you think she’s that kind of person?”

Your pulse quickened and your fingers tightened around your glass. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Why were they even talking about this? Your stomach sank further with each word. You fought the urge to stand up and defend yourself, although you weren’t quite sure you’d know what to say if you did. Were you really out of your depth?

You glanced back toward Alexia, wishing she’d somehow heard the exchange, wishing you could share the burden of what had just been said. But even if she had been closer, would you have had the courage to repeat the words? The thought of telling her felt unbearable. What if she agreed, even a little? What if, instead of reassuring you, she hesitated? You tell yourself off, firmly. It was Alexia that brought you here, Alexia that wanted you here. She wouldn’t hesitate. But before you can dwell on what you heard too much, dinner is being served and you’re all called to the living room.

The dining room was warm and inviting, with a large wooden table set for everyone. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations. Alexia was seated beside you, and her presence helped calm your nerves, even though the earlier comments still lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the moment, enjoy the evening with Alexia’s family and forget about what you overheard earlier

.“So, tell us more about yourself. Alexia mentioned you work on some pretty impressive projects.” It was Eli’s voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. You were glad that everyone seemed to be in their own conversations, only a couple relatives really listening in to what you were going to answer.

“Oh, it’s nothing too special. I mostly enjoy being behind the scenes, making sure everything runs smoothly.” You worry, overthinking every word as if the people around you would be nitpicking every single thing that you said.

“Well, Alexia couldn’t stop talking about how talented you are. She doesn’t say that about just anyone, you know.” Her words made you feel a little more at ease, but the shadow of doubt from earlier lingered.

Dinner went smoothly for the rest. Conversation flowed easily between a couple of you, the steadying presence of your girlfriend aside you doing just enough to ground you. During a lighter moment, someone shared a funny story about Alexia’s childhood.

“Did you know Alexia used to practice free kicks in the yard until she knocked over the flower pots? I think my parents banned football from the garden for a year!” The family laughs, and Alexia playfully rolls her eyes, leaning in closer to you. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”

At some point, a little further down the evening, Alexia leans in quietly, her hand brushing against yours under the table. “You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet.” she asks softly. You force a smile, one you know she won’t believe, but it’s the best you could muster up. “I’m fine. Just taking everything in.” She didn’t push, but her eyes lingered, and you knew she was onto you. But you appreciated her for not pushing.

As the meal ends and people begin to move around, Alexia finds a quiet moment with you, sensing your unease. “You’ve been amazing tonight, you know? I can see how much they like you.” You found yourself in a quiet corner in the kitchen, and you allowed yourself to circle your arms around her neck, Alexia’s resting around your waist. “You think so? It’s just… a lot to take in.” Alexia nodded, briefly brushing her lips against your forehead. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you’re doing great. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could handle it.”

-

The silence in the car was heavy, but Alexia didn't push. She glanced at you every now and then, her brows knitting together in quiet concern at the expression on your face. She decided she could do no wrong by testing the waters. “You were amazing tonight,” she said softly. You nodded with a small smile, but it was forced. You continued staring out the window, replaying the events from the night over and over again, especially the words from one of Alexia’s aunts kept on ringing in the back of your mind.

The car ride felt uneasy. It wasn’t usual for you both to be so quiet, and it almost felt awkward. You knew you weren’t doing the right thing by not telling your girlfriend what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt as if, if you would recite the words that were spoken by one of her relatives, that she’d agree. That she’d realize that they were right, that you’re out of your depth and not made for someone with a schedule like hers. So you stayed silent. As much as it hurt you to ignore Alexia’s silent advances throughout the drive, whether that be a hand on your knee or a soft touch on your thigh, you didn’t dare speak up. Not if that meant you would put your relationship at risk.

When Alexia pulled into the driveway of your apartment block, you could feel the hesitation in her movements. You unbuckled your seatbelt and she did the same, but before you could reach the door handle, you felt her hand on your wrist. “Amor, wait…,” she spoke softly. You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before leaning back against the car seat. “You did great tonight. I promise. It was everything I hoped for. I’m so glad you finally met my family and they love you. Te lo prometo.” You gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but you couldn’t help but melt in the kiss that followed. You really shouldn’t have, should’ve held your walls up, because you knew you were in for a rough night as soon as your girlfriend left. But when she kissed you with that much fervour, pouring so many unspoken words in it, you couldn’t help but be at her mercy. “Call me tomorrow?” You nodded, but you weren’t sure you would. Stepping out of her car felt like floodgates opening. The emotions hit you like a brick: insecurity, shame, and the growing belief that this relationship was a mistake.

-

You ignored Alexia’s calls the following day. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt like every new word you spoke to her would bring her closer to realizing that you weren’t enough for her. Her texts start off light, reassuring. But when she realizes that you’re not going to reply, they come with an urge.

From: Ale I hope you’re feeling better today, amor. Let me know when you’re free?

From: Ale Hey, I’m getting worried. Are you okay?

From: Ale Please talk to me. Did something happen?

You read them but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Each message felt like a dagger, reminding you of what you’re running from.

As the day dragged on, the insecurities became louder. What if you’re just another thing for her to take care of? You’re nothing compared to the people she’s surrounded with on a day-to-day basis. Her teammates, her family, they’re all… extraordinary. Alexia deserves someone who fits into her world effortlessly.  Not someone who feels like they’re constantly falling short.

You started analyzing every moment with Alexia, wondering if you’ve been blind to signs that this was doomed from the start. You were not made for this world. Not made for her. So you did the thing that you thought was best for you, best for her, you decided not to reply to anything she sent you. She’d get over it, she had so many other things on her mind that she probably wouldn’t even think twice. You’d get over it too, eventually. At some point. Probably. Maybe.

But God, were you wrong. On the other side of Barcelona, your girlfriend was miserable. She had sensed something was off since the evening before, but she didn’t want to pry, knowing that usually didn’t help her case in trying to get anything out of you. But now, as the afternoon bled into evening and she still hadn’t heard from you, prying was the only thing she wished she did. As far as she knew, things had gone quite well with her family. There wasn’t anything that she could remember that would warrant such a response from you, so she felt like her hands were tied in what to do.

She wanted nothing more than things to work out with you. She hadn’t felt like she felt about you in ages. You got her, you understood her, and she was so incredibly grateful for you. You were like a breath of fresh air in her clouded, busy life. So when she didn’t hear from you for a day, Alexia curled up into herself. She was worried, insecure, in her head and making up all kinds of scenarios that were way too obscure, but she couldn’t help thinking them anyway. What if you didn’t want her anymore after meeting her family? Was it not what you expected? Did someone tell you something about her that struck a wrong chord?

Despite the overwhelming thoughts that clouded her mind, Alexia manages to get out of her sofa that evening and try a different approach to get you back.

-

It’s well past 9pm when you receive a voicemail from Alexia, and you can’t help but listen to it. The prospect of hearing her voice was too good to turn down.

“Hola, mi vida. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but please talk to me. We’re a team, you know? You and I. Just the two of us. Let me in and we’ll work out what’s on your mind. And, check your front door for me. Te amo. So much.”

You hadn’t realized tears had welled up in your eyes at the sound of her voice, until one was rolling over your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, not ready to be vulnerable about this yet. Not when she was being so sweet. You mustered up the courage to get out of bed, walking the way up to the front door of your apartment. You checked the peephole, but nobody was there. You opened the door and spotted a bright bouquet of red and white roses on the ground, accompanied with a little envelope. Your first thought was about how Alexia had gotten into your building, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that right now. You picked up the flowers and smelled them, a faint hint of her perfume mixing with the fresh scent of the roses. It hit you hard then, another few tears escaping your eyes.

The letter that came with, was even sweeter. It wasn’t much, not a love letter by any means, but just a small couple reminders of how much she loved you. That she was proud of you. That she couldn’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. It only felt more guilt rise up in you. How could you treat this woman, who clearly loved you to the moon and back, so poorly? But the guilt wasn’t enough to overshadow the insecurities. At least, not yet. 

-

The office was dimly lit, the desk cluttered with blueprints, pencils, and a cold coffee cup that you’re not sure you even took a sip from. When things got rough, work is where you turned to in life. Work didn’t make you insecure. Work didn’t make you doubt yourself. It was always there. Steady. A pillar of strength that would never disappoint you. You weren’t the only one who knew that, though. As long as it took you to open up about your professional life to a certain blonde, she now knew everything about the ins and outs of your life as an interior architect. She too, knew that this was where you retreated when things weren’t going your way. To experience some sort of stability. To make you feel like even though everything else around you was crumbling, you still had this. The hum of the building and the outside traffic was the only sound until the door swung open abruptly, startling you.

Alexia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She looked out of place here, her casual sweater and jeans standing stark against the sterile, professional backdrop. She didn’t speak right away, just stood there, her gaze fixed on you. The silence felt suffocating. You haven’t turned around yet, but the mere presence of the person gave away who it was.

“I knew you’d be here,” she started with. “You shouldn’t have come.” You had turned around on your seat now, but were still avoiding her gaze. As much as you wanted to look at her, take her in, because you missed her, missed her more than you could put into words, you didn’t. Because then it would take approximately 3 seconds for you to give up the facade that you’d been putting on, and you weren’t ready for that. Not when you weren’t good enough for her. She stepped closer. “What else was I supposed to do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for almost 2 days. I’ve been losing my mind wondering what I did wrong.”

There was a sense of hostility in her voice, and you didn’t like it. But, you guess you deserved it. You finally met her gaze then, and if it weren’t for the bags underneath her eyes and the concerned look on her face, you really would’ve thought she was angry at you. You stood up from your desk, taking a couple tentative steps toward her and crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t do anything, Alexia. This is on me.” You knew it was weak, and not good enough. But you couldn’t give her much more than that. “That’s not good enough. I deserve more than silence, don’t you think?”

Your throat is tightening, but you try your best not to let it sound in your voice. “I needed time to think.” “Time to think about what, y/n? If you even want to be with me?” You frowned then, looking up at her. You didn’t know it had cut so deep with her. It’d only been a day and a half, and you hadn't given her any clues on what this could be about, so for her to have made this assumption took you aback. It’s not what you wanted, or… maybe it was? It was best for the both of you, either way.

You decided at that moment it was best for you to open up, to relieve some of the tension for the woman standing in front of you. “I’m not good for you, Alexia. Can’t you see that? Your cousin, your family, they see it. And they’re right.” The Spaniard’s face hardens at that, her brows knitting together. ““I don’t belong in your world. I don’t know how to fit into it, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will. You deserve someone who can stand next to you without feeling like they’re constantly falling short.”

Alexia closes the distance between you, and you can feel her breath against your face as she speaks. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You think I care what anyone else thinks? My family? My cousin? Do you think I’d be here right now, chasing after you, if I thought you weren’t good enough for me?” You interrupt her, but it’s a futile attempt. “No, you don’t understand-” “You don’t understand! I chose you! I want you! Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

It’s like someone opened up a can of bottled feelings within Alexia. You’d voiced it many times to her that you thought you weren’t good enough for her, and each time she’d patiently coaxed you back to her, melting your insecurities away with whispered promises and lingering kisses. What you didn’t know is that it had also taken an effect on her. She just wanted you to believe her, to be happy with her, to stop thinking that you weren’t what she wanted or deserved.

“Because I’m scared, Alexia! I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize they were right. That I’m just this… nobody who got lucky. That I’ll never be enough for you.” Alexia’s expression softens slightly, but her frustration remains. She runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but still firm. ““You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough. But I can’t keep fighting to convince you of that if you’re not willing to believe it yourself.”

The words hit you like a dagger. Of all the ways the conversation could go, you hadn’t expected that. And it only further confirmed your thoughts. Alexia was realizing that this wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe I’m doing this for you, Alexia. Maybe you’ll thank me someday.” Alexia’s voice was sharp as she replied. “Don’t you dare make this decision for me.” You flinch, but remain silent.

She steps back then, running her hands across her face. “I don’t know what else to say to you right now.” Her eyes linger on your figure a little longer, but then she’s gone. The sound of the door falling shut feels deafening, and you finally let the tears flow that you’d been holding in throughout the conversation. Argument? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

As she storms out of the studio, the cool night air hits her like a wall. Her chest feels tight, and her hands tremble slightly as she fumbles to unlock her car. She hesitates for a moment, gripping the door handle, debating whether to turn back. But the ache in her heart makes it hard to think clearly, and she sinks into the driver’s seat, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

She didn’t know how it could’ve escalated this quick. For her, the meeting with her family went well. Of course, there was the odd comment, but she didn’t think it was major enough to cause an upset like this. It seemed like, in one day, you’d built a wall so high that she couldn’t reach you anymore.

She bites her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but a few slip out anyway. She feels a mix of anger, heartbreak and guilt, but above all that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She drives around aimlessly, not ready to drive home. Before long, Alexia realizes that she didn’t handle the argument in the right way. Instead of calming you down, she yelled, too lost in trying to make you see what she sees. By the time she finally gets home, she’s emotionally drained. She sits at her kitchen table, the undeniable sting from the unanswered calls and texts still there. Alexia had never felt this way about anyone, ever before in her life. And she wasn’t going to let you walk away because of some stupid comment or your own doubts. You were hers, and she was going to remind you of that even if it took everything she had.

Alexia starts her plan to get you back the next day. She comes to terms that barging into the studio again wouldn’t make it better, so she starts with something simple. She drives to your place and slides a little handwritten note under the door, a small one that says, “I love you. No matter what they say, no matter what you think. You are everything to me. Please, let me prove it. A.” She also sends flowers to your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a little note attached to it, “You’re the only one I see.” She’s patient, very patient, but when she hasn’t heard anything from you by the evening, she starts pacing around her apartment.

She had done quite well at keeping busy throughout the day. After quickly dropping off the note, she went to training and was able to keep her mind off the situation for a couple hours. But when she came home, deep in the afternoon, and she couldn’t even get her post-training nap in because she was thinking about you, she knew she wasn’t gonna get anywhere.

Her fingers hover over your contact, but the prospect of rejection makes her hesitate. She lingers, but eventually decides it’s best not to. She was gonna let you come to her. And you did. The next morning, somehow you’d remembered that today was a day off for Alexia. She was sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her daily cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. The doorbell startled her, not really expecting anyone at this time of day, especially not when she was still wearing her pajamas. But when she looks through the peephole, noticing your figure on the other side of the door, her heart skips a beat. She scrambles to unlock the door and open it for you, but when her eyes land on you it feels like all is right in the world. She has to refrain herself from throwing her into your arms, knowing that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now. She gives you a small smile, one you return, and the warmth that spreads through her chest at the little gesture is unimaginable. She steps aside then, letting you inside of her apartment.

It doesn’t take long for Alexia to crack. She makes you a coffee and joins you on the sofa, and you had planned to start the conversation, but she didn’t let you. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. “For yelling, for walking out, for everything. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, nodding, fiddling with your hands. “I… I wasn’t trying to push you away, Alexia. I just-” “You’re scared,” she interrupts, and a relief washes over you at the realization that she understands your feelings. “And I get that. But, please, I need you to talk to me, not shut me out.”

There’s a couple moments of silence, and you readjust your position on the couch, your knees now flush to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It was the only way to stop yourself from curling into her. You wouldn’t get to say what you wanted if you did. “It’s not just fear,” you admit. “It’s everything. What your cousin said, it wasn’t just about me. It was about us. Like I don’t belong in your world. Like- Like I’m just… some fling that you’ll outgrow.”

Alexia’s face hardens, jaw tightening and she reaches a hand out, but quickly retreats. “Don’t let them get to you, por favor. She doesn’t know anything about us, about you.” “But what if she’s right?” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not enough? For you, for your family, for-” Alexia does follow through with her hand then, placing it on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “Stop.” Her voice is firm but not harsh, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You are everything.” Your eyes meet hers, and you’re looking for anything that gives away she’s not speaking the truth. That she doesn’t mean this, that she’s just saying this out of pity. But you can’t find it. The only thing you find is a couple unshed tears, showing just how much emotion she’s pouring into this moment. “Do you know how much I love you? How much I admire you? Your kindness, strength, the way you light up any room without even trying. You’re the only one I want.” You go to speak up, but she lifts her hand in protest.

“What someone else thinks, whether it’s my family, my friends or anyone, doesn’t matter to me. You matter. You make me happy, and that’s all I care about. And if my cousin, or anyone else has a problem with that, they’ll have to say that to my face. And not behind your or my back.” Alexia straightens slightly, retreating her hand from your knee and placing them in her lap. “But I know I didn’t handle this right, and I’m sorry for that too,” she says earnestly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was frustrated because I hate seeing you doubt yourself, especially when you’re so good to me, so good for me. I want to be better for you, better for us. But you need to let me in.”

You swallow hard, her words from the last couple minutes sinking in. You couldn’t believe how you deserved the woman sitting in front of you right now. So good, so honest, and all she wanted was you. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or… seem weak, I guess.” Alexia shakes her head, her gaze soft. “You’re not weak. And you’re never going to hurt me by telling me how you feel. We’re a team, remember? On the same side, mi amor.” The pet name sends a wave of warmth through you that you only now realize you missed terribly. “Besides,” she adds, her tone lighter now, “if our relationship has had to endure all the teasing from my teammates and the comments from fans, I’m sure we can handle a little communication hiccup.”

You laugh softly, and Alexia grins, relief washing over her. “There it is,” she says, her thumb brushing a tear off your cheek that you didn’t even know was there. “There’s my girl.” You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest lifting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, too. For shutting you out. I’ll try to do better.” Alexia leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together.”

As the tension melts away, Alexia pulls you up, wrapping her arms tightly around you. The warmth of her embrace makes the world outside. She tilts her head to rest against yours, her voice soft as she speaks. “You’re never allowed to disappear like that again,” Alexia murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “Do you know how much I missed you? Two days felt like two years.” You nestle further into her, your arms circling her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed space to think. But it wasn’t worth it. Being without you felt awful. I just kept convincing myself that you were better off without me and vice versa, but I know that’s not true.”

Alexia pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb brushes gently over your cheek as she smiles, her expression soft. “You don’t have to run away to think, cariño. Just come to me, and we’ll figure it out together. Always.”

The weight of the past days begins to fade away as Alexia leans down and brushes her lips lightly against your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek. Each kiss feels like a promise, her way to say that everything’s going to be okay. “Stop,” you say, giggling softly, though you don’t actually want her to stop. “You’re making it impossible to stay mad at myself.” “Good,” Alexia says with a smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. “Because I’m not done making it up to you yet.”

She shifts, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into her lap. You hesitate for a moment, but her arms tighten around your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she asks softly, her lips brushing your ear. You nod, melting into her touch. “More than okay.” Her hands trail up and down your back in soothing strokes as you rest your head on her shoulder. The two of you sit like that for a while, in silence, before you take a nap together on the couch. As you lay in her arms, you know that that’s where you’re supposed to be. And you’re gonna battle every single one of your insecurities that tells you differently.

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[oya-oya-okay]

@skibidibabygirl OHHHH😭💖💖💖💖💖

Dear, Im very flattered by your kind words!! Thank you very much!😭💕💖💗💖💕

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH TOO/p❤️❤️❤️ You're also a very sweet and charming person!!😭💗💕💖♥️ I hope that you will always be happy and will do what you like!🥰🥰🥰🥰

In fact, this year I've met a lot of people who have shown me a lot of kindness😭🙏❤️💗❤️💗 Im grateful to everyone who has been kind to me!!!🥰♥️💗💖💕💗💕💗 I'M VERY BAD AT WORDS, LMAO😭❤️❤️❤️💦💦💦 EVERYTHING SLIPS OUT OF MY HEAD. But I hope that next year and in the future we will all have fun and enjoy creativity no matter what!🛐💖💗💖💗💕 Thank you all VERY much!!!🤗💗💗💗💕💕💕💖💖💖♥️♥️♥️

[sonarspace]

⋆⁺₊ HOLLY, JOLLY, SINFUL

꒰ synopsis. where the krampus you feared is far from the monster in the stories, and santa isn’t the saint you thought he was.

content. santa/krampus au. sukuna x fem!reader. nsfw. rough sēx, orāl (f! receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgāsms, size kink, and possessive sukuna.

wc. 6k

an. a little spin on a christmas tale, i hope you guys like it. happy early christmas to those who celebrate <3

the north pole buzzed with a frenzy unlike any december before. the workshop, usually a well-oiled machine of holiday cheer, was on the brink of chaos. elves darted across the floor, their faces pale, their hands trembling as they struggled to stay productive amidst the rising tension.

toys had disappeared. not just a few, but sleighs worth of carefully crafted gifts, all set to be delivered to children across the world.

“gone,” whispered a senior elf, his voice trembling as he held up an empty inventory list. “every last one.”

“how could this happen?” another elf demanded, their voice sharp with fear. “no one gets past santa’s wards. no one.”

you worked silently, sorting a batch of unfinished trains, though your hands trembled as much as theirs. the tension in the room was suffocating, each whispered fear clawing at the edges of your composure.

you weren’t the most experienced elf—far from it—but even you could sense the weight of what had happened. christmas wasn’t just a season; it was magic, a promise of joy to the world. and without the toys, that magic would crumble.

“it’s him,” someone whispered behind you, their voice low and ominous. “krampus.”

the name hung in the air like a curse.

you’d heard the stories growing up, tales of a monstrous being who lived in the frozen expanse of the south pole. krampus, they said, was the shadow of christmas, a creature who thrived on misery and chaos. his four arms were said to be lined with claws, his horns sharp enough to pierce steel.

but no one believed the stories. not really.

until now.

the grand hall was quieter than you’d ever heard it.

rows of elves stood shoulder to shoulder, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of the towering christmas tree. despite the festive decorations, the atmosphere was heavy, the usual cheer replaced by unease.

santa stood at the head of the room, his crimson coat gleaming in the firelight. his sharp crimson eyes swept over the crowd, and the tension in the room seemed to deepen.

“this was no accident,” santa said, his voice cutting through the silence. “the toys have been stolen. and the wards around the north pole have been breached.”

a ripple of shock ran through the crowd.

“krampus has made his move,” santa continued. “and if we don’t act quickly, christmas will be ruined.”

the whispers began again, this time louder, more frantic.

“he’s real?” someone asked, their voice tinged with disbelief.

“of course he’s real,” another snapped. “who else could have done this?”

you stayed silent, your heart pounding as santa’s words sank in.

“we must retrieve the gifts,” santa said. “but the south pole is treacherous, and krampus is no ordinary foe. this will require courage—and skill.”

his gaze swept over the crowd again, lingering on the senior elves who avoided his eyes.

“who will go?”

the room fell silent.

your hands clenched into fists.

you could feel the weight of your fellow elves’ fear, their unwillingness to step forward. the journey would be dangerous, and the thought of facing krampus—the supposed monster of legend—was enough to send even the bravest elves into hiding.

but as the silence stretched on, something inside you stirred.

if no one else would act, then who would?

before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped forward.

“i’ll do it.”

the words rang out in the hall, louder than you’d expected.

all eyes turned to you, a mix of admiration, surprise, and doubt flickering in their gazes.

santa’s sharp gaze settled on you, his expression unreadable.

“you’re brave,” he said after a moment, his tone even. “but this will not be easy.”

“i can handle it,” you said, forcing your voice to remain steady.

before santa could respond, the air changed.

a sudden chill swept through the hall, snuffing out the candles in an instant. the elves gasped, their breath visible in the freezing air.

the temperature plummeted, and an unnatural wind began to swirl, carrying with it a deep, mocking laugh.

“so this is the great north pole,” a voice boomed, the sound reverberating through the hall like thunder. it was smooth and resonant, laced with cruel amusement.

“weak, fragile, desperate,” the voice continued. “you send a mere elf to face me? is that the best you can do, kenjaku?”

the air seemed to pulse with the weight of the voice, a presence you could feel but not see.

you glanced at santa, your confusion growing. kenjaku? who was that?

“show yourself, krampus,” santa growled, his jaw tightening.

the voice laughed again, colder this time.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you? but no, not yet,” krampus said, his tone dripping with mockery. “come to me, kenjaku. or are you too much of a coward to face what you stole?”

the words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

santa’s expression darkened, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“i’ll come,” he said finally, his voice tight with restrained anger.

the meeting ended in a flurry of nervous energy. elves whispered among themselves, their voices rising and falling like waves as they tried to make sense of what they’d just heard.

you stayed behind, packing supplies for the journey. the staff santa had given you—infused with ancient christmas magic—felt warm in your hands, a faint glow emanating from its carved surface.

“are you sure about this?” one of the senior elves asked, their voice hesitant as they approached you.

“i don’t have a choice,” you replied, your voice firm. “someone has to do it.”

they nodded, though their expression remained troubled. “be careful,” they said before turning to leave.

you glanced at santa, who stood by the fire, his gaze distant. his usual commanding presence felt… strained, as though the weight of krampus’s words had unsettled him.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story—something he wasn’t telling you.

but there was no time to dwell on it. the journey to the south pole awaited, and whatever lay ahead, you would face it head-on.

the journey to the south pole was grueling.

the snow felt sharper here, more like shards of glass than soft flakes. the bitter cold seemed to seep through every layer of clothing, chilling you to your bones. this wasn’t like the north pole—the light, the cheer, the magic. this place felt… wrong.

santa led the way, his crimson coat stark against the endless expanse of gray and white. the silence between you was heavy, broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot and the howling wind.

“are we close?” you asked, gripping your staff tightly as its faint glow pulsed in your hand.

“closer than i’d like,” santa replied, his tone clipped.

you frowned. his usual steady demeanor felt off. there was none of the quiet confidence you’d grown used to—just tension, coiled and sharp.

“what is this place?” you pressed, glancing at the jagged ice formations jutting out of the ground like broken glass.

“krampus’s domain,” santa said. “his influence twists the land. the closer we get, the more dangerous it becomes.”

a shiver ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

the attack came without warning.

the ground trembled beneath your feet, the snow cracking and shifting as shadowy figures emerged from the storm.

“what’s that?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“bandits,” santa said sharply, his hand tightening around his staff.

before you could respond, they were upon you. their movements were quick and unnatural, their jagged weapons carved from ice glinting in the dim light.

“stay close,” santa ordered.

you raised your staff, its glow flaring as the first bandit lunged toward you. the magic coursed through you, sending a pulse of energy that knocked them back.

but there were too many.

you swung the staff again, the force of the blow sending another bandit sprawling into the snow. but for every one you struck down, two more seemed to take their place.

a sharp blow to your side sent you stumbling, the staff slipping from your grasp. you fell to your knees, gasping for breath as pain radiated through your ribs.

“help me!” you shouted, turning to santa.

but he wasn’t there.

your heart sank as you scanned the storm, the wind tearing at your cloak. “santa!” you called again, desperation rising in your voice.

there was no answer.

the bandits closed in, their twisted faces leering down at you.

“still breathing, are you?”

the voice was deep, smooth, and laced with a hint of amusement.

you blinked, your vision blurry as the storm raged around you. a figure crouched beside you, his sharp features coming into focus as the wind whipped through his wild, pink hair.

“who…” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“relax,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

he leaned closer, his crimson eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

“bandits,” he muttered, glancing at the torn fabric of your cloak. “you’re lucky they didn’t finish the job.”

before you could respond, he slipped a thick cloak around your trembling form, his four arms moving with surprising gentleness.

“can you stand?” he asked.

you shook your head weakly, your body refusing to cooperate.

“figured as much,” he said with a faint smirk.

before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest. the warmth of his skin seeped through the layers of fabric, and you found yourself leaning into him, unable to resist.

“who are you?” you asked weakly.

“someone who doesn’t leave people to die in the snow,” he replied dryly.

the warmth of his shelter was a shock after the brutal cold outside.

he set you down on a plush couch near the fire, his movements careful as he adjusted the blanket around your shoulders.

“drink this,” he said, handing you a steaming mug.

the spiced cider was rich and warm, flooding your senses with comfort. you sipped it cautiously, watching as he crouched beside you.

“what were you doing out there?” he asked, his crimson eyes sharp and searching.

you hesitated, glancing down at the mug in your hands. “you wouldn’t believe me if i told you.”

his lips curved into a faint smirk. “try me.”

you swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “i came here with santa claus,” you began hesitantly, watching his reaction.

his eyes widened slightly, but not with disbelief. there was something else in his gaze—an intensity you couldn’t quite place, as if he were seeing you for the first time.

you felt the need to explain, to justify yourself. “i know it sounds ridiculous,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. “but… santa claus is real. he exists for those who choose to believe in him.”

to your surprise, his expression softened. the smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.

“and you believe,” he said, his tone calm.

“i do,” you admitted. “it’s not just about the toys or the magic. it’s about hope. about believing that even in the darkest times, there’s something good in the world.”

he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “a rare thing, these days,” he said quietly.

his reaction surprised you. instead of mockery, there was understanding in his gaze, a warmth that made your chest tighten.

“so, you’re here with him,” he said after a moment.

“yes,” you replied. “santa sent me to find krampus and retrieve the stolen gifts.”

his eyes darkened slightly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than felt natural. it wasn’t skepticism or anger—it was something deeper, more intense.

how could kenjaku have someone like you by his side? your quiet strength, your rare beauty, your unwavering belief in something so pure. the thought ignited something sharp and bitter in his chest.

you shifted under his gaze, mistaking his silence for doubt. “i know it sounds ridiculous,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “but i promise, it’s real. everything—santa, the north pole, the magic—it’s all real.”

“i don’t think it’s ridiculous,” he said, interrupting you gently.

you blinked, caught off guard. “you don’t?”

his lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “not at all,” he said, his voice low. “some things are worth believing in, even if the rest of the world doesn’t understand.”

his words lingered in the air between you, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to fade into the background.

“you’re not what i expected,” he said finally, his voice softer now.

neither was he.

the storm outside had grown fiercer, the wind howling against the walls of the shelter as if the very land were angry. inside, the fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the room.

you watched your rescuer as he paced near the hearth, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. the tension in his movements was palpable, his four arms crossing and uncrossing as if he were fighting an internal battle.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “you came here with kenjaku.”

you frowned. “who?”

his gaze snapped to yours, sharp and incredulous. “kenjaku,” he repeated, his tone laced with disdain. “the man you call santa claus.”

your stomach twisted at his words, the weight of the name unfamiliar and wrong. “that’s not his name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it is,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “you’ve been lied to.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the intensity in his gaze silenced you. there was no mockery, no smugness—only a simmering anger that made your breath catch.

“you don’t know, do you?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, softer. “what he’s done.”

“what are you talking about?” you said, your chest tightening as the weight of his words pressed down on you.

he sighed, running a hand through his pink hair, his tattoos glowing faintly as his anger simmered just beneath the surface.

“centuries ago,” he began, his voice steady but edged with bitterness, “i was chosen to bear the mantle of santa claus. the magic of christmas—the ancient power that keeps this world in balance—was mine by right. but kenjaku didn’t think i was fit for the role. he wanted it for himself.”

you stared at him, your mind reeling as his words sank in.

“he used forbidden magic,” sukuna continued, his voice darkening, “to seal me here, in the south pole. he took everything from me—my title, my power, my purpose—and left me to rot in this frozen wasteland.”

the crackle of the fire was the only sound as his words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

“and now he sends you,” he said, his gaze narrowing. “to clean up his mess.”

“that’s not true,” you said, though your voice wavered. “he wouldn’t…”

“wouldn’t he?” sukuna interrupted, stepping closer. “then tell me, where is he now? why did he leave you to die?”

the question hit like a blow, the memory of the bandits and kenjaku’s disappearance flashing in your mind.

“maybe he had no choice,” you said weakly, though even you didn’t believe the words.

sukuna snorted, his expression twisting into a bitter smile. “you’re too kind for your own good.”

you looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

“you still don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “he’s been using you. just like he uses everyone else.”

the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence.

sukuna stiffened, his tattoos glowing brighter as he turned toward the door. his crimson eyes burned with anger, his four arms flexing as he prepared for what was coming.

“stay here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

before you could respond, the door burst open, a gust of icy wind swirling into the room.

and there, standing in the doorway, was kenjaku—santa claus.

“so this is where you’ve been hiding,” kenjaku said, his voice smooth, almost amused.

sukuna’s growl rumbled through the room like distant thunder. “you’ve got some nerve showing your face here.”

kenjaku stepped inside, his crimson coat gleaming in the firelight. his gaze swept over the room, lingering on you for a moment before returning to sukuna.

“you always were dramatic,” kenjaku said, his tone sharp.

“and you always were a liar,” sukuna shot back, his voice venomous.

you stood frozen, your heart pounding as the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

“why did you leave me?” you demanded, your voice cutting through the standoff.

kenjaku’s gaze softened, though there was something calculating in his expression. “i had no choice,” he said smoothly. “the bandits were too many. if i’d stayed, we both would have died.”

“that’s bullshit,” sukuna spat, stepping forward. “you left her because she wasn’t worth the effort to you.”

“don’t listen to him,” kenjaku said, his voice soothing as he turned to you. “he’s krampus. he’s the reason we’re in this mess.”

“and you’re the reason she almost died,” sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous.

kenjaku ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “he’s manipulating you,” he said, his tone firm but calm. “he wants you to trust him so he can use you against me.”

you hesitated, your gaze flickering between them.

“don’t listen to him,” sukuna said, his eyes burning as he looked at you. “you know the truth.”

you took a deep breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“you left me to die,” you said to kenjaku, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest. “he didn’t.”

kenjaku’s expression faltered, the first crack in his calm facade.

“you don’t understand,” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

raising your staff, you stepped closer to sukuna, the magic within it surging as you made your choice.

“she’s not yours to manipulate,” sukuna snarled, stepping in front of you as kenjaku’s face twisted in rage.

the fight was chaos.

magic crackled through the air, the room trembling as sukuna and kenjaku clashed. sukuna moved with raw power, his four arms striking with precision as his tattoos glowed with unrestrained energy. kenjaku countered with sharp, calculated attacks, his crimson coat billowing around him as he fought with a ruthless efficiency.

you held your ground, the staff in your hands glowing as you channeled your own magic. when kenjaku’s attacks threatened to overwhelm sukuna, you stepped in, the power of the north pole surging through you as you deflected the blows.

“stay out of this!” kenjaku snapped, his voice rising in frustration.

“no,” you said firmly, your gaze steady. “i’m done following your orders.”

sukuna smirked, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to kenjaku. “looks like you’ve lost your grip,” he taunted.

kenjaku roared, his attacks growing wilder, more desperate. but together, you and sukuna were unstoppable—a force that even the self-proclaimed santa couldn’t overcome.

the clash reached its peak with a deafening explosion of magic. sparks of crimson and gold danced through the air as sukuna’s raw power collided with kenjaku’s calculated strikes. the very walls of the shelter trembled under the weight of their battle, cracks snaking along the icy structure.

you gripped the staff tightly, its glow steady in your hands as you prepared to deflect another attack aimed at sukuna.

“is that all you’ve got?” sukuna snarled, his four arms moving with devastating precision as he sent a powerful strike toward kenjaku.

kenjaku staggered, his crimson coat scorched and torn, his sharp features twisted in frustration. his usual smug confidence had begun to falter, his attacks growing more desperate.

“this isn’t over,” kenjaku hissed, his voice laced with venom as he stepped back, his hands crackling with dark magic.

“oh, it is,” sukuna growled, his tattoos glowing brighter as he advanced. “you’re done hiding behind lies, kenjaku.”

you stepped forward, raising your staff. the magic within it surged, intertwining with sukuna’s energy as you sent a pulse of light toward kenjaku.

he barely had time to deflect it before sukuna was upon him, his fists slamming into kenjaku’s barrier with enough force to shatter it. the power of the strike sent kenjaku flying backward, crashing into the icy wall with a thunderous crack.

kenjaku struggled to rise, his movements slow and unsteady. his crimson eyes burned with rage as he glared at you and sukuna.

“you think this changes anything?” he spat, his voice trembling with anger. “you think you can take my place?”

“it was never your place to begin with,” sukuna said coldly, stepping forward.

you watched as sukuna loomed over kenjaku, his presence dominating the room. for a moment, you thought he might strike the final blow, but instead, he stepped back, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“you’re not worth it,” sukuna said, his voice low and sharp. “but you’re finished. you’ll never hold the mantle again.”

with a flick of his hand, sukuna unleashed a burst of energy that sent kenjaku hurtling out of the shelter and into the storm. the force of it was so immense that the very air seemed to ripple, the storm outside swallowing kenjaku whole.

silence followed, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

you lowered the staff, your hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“is it over?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sukuna turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “it’s over,” he said, his voice steady.

the tension in your chest eased, and you sank onto the couch, exhaustion washing over you.

sukuna moved to the hearth, his four arms lowering as the glow of his tattoos dimmed. he leaned against the wall, his crimson eyes watching you closely.

“you fought well,” he said after a moment, his tone quiet.

“so did you,” you replied, offering him a small, tired smile.

his lips twitched into a faint smirk, though there was a warmth in his gaze that made your cheeks flush.

the journey back to the north pole was a blur of ice and wind, but this time, you weren’t alone.

sukuna walked beside you, his presence steady and protective. he carried the stolen gifts in a large sack slung over his shoulder, his four arms making the burden look effortless.

when you finally crossed the threshold of the north pole, the light and magic of the workshop washed over you like a wave. elves gathered in the grand hall, their faces alight with relief and joy as they saw the gifts restored.

but their excitement faltered when they saw sukuna. whispers rippled through the crowd, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

“it’s okay,” you said, stepping forward. “he’s not our enemy.”

santa’s empty throne loomed at the head of the room, and sukuna’s gaze lingered on it, his expression unreadable.

“it’s yours now,” you said softly, your voice carrying only to him.

he glanced at you, his crimson eyes narrowing. “you think they’ll accept me?”

“they will,” you said, your voice firm. “because they’ll see what i see.”

his lips curved into a faint smile, and he stepped forward, his presence commanding as he approached the throne.

when he sat, the air seemed to shift, the ancient magic of christmas surging through the hall. the elves stared in awe as the throne’s glow brightened, its magic recognizing sukuna as the rightful santa.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of activity as christmas was saved and the gifts delivered. but when it was all over, and the workshop quieted for the long rest of the year, sukuna sought you out.

he found you in the quiet of your room, the glow of the north pole’s lights filtering through the window.

“come with me,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

you followed him without hesitation, his presence drawing you in like a magnet. he led you to his chambers—his now, as the new santa. the room was warm and inviting, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

“you saved me,” he said, turning to face you. his crimson eyes softened, his tattoos glowing faintly in the dim light. “you trusted me when no one else would.”

“you deserved it,” you said quietly.

he stepped closer, his four arms wrapping around you as his lips curved into a smirk. “and now, i intend to thank you properly.”

the air between you seemed to hum with energy, his gaze locking onto yours as the distance between you disappeared.

his chambers were steeped in a heavy, intoxicating warmth, the flickering firelight reflecting off the deep crimson furnishings and casting shadows that seemed to breathe with the rhythm of the room. the air itself felt alive, humming with a raw energy that matched the man standing before you.

sukuna leaned casually against the ornate four-poster bed, his broad shoulders and muscular arms giving the impression of effortless power. his crimson eyes burned with an intensity that pinned you in place, their sharpness softened only slightly by the faint curl of his lips.

“you don’t need to stand there like a nervous little rabbit,” he said, his voice low and teasing, a delicious rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “come here.”

the way he said it—smooth and commanding, with a promise of something that made your stomach flutter—left you no choice but to obey.

you stepped closer, your heart pounding with each step, until you were standing in front of him.

“you saved christmas,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours as his four arms moved to surround you. the first hand slid to your waist, his grip firm but not overbearing, while another rested gently on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “and more than that… you saved me.”

“i didn’t do it alone,” you replied, your voice a whisper under the weight of his attention.

he tilted his head, strands of soft pink hair falling into his face as his smirk widened. his thumb traced lazily over your cheek, the pad of it brushing just beneath your lips, lingering like he was daring you to take a bite. “always so modest,” he murmured, voice like velvet dragged over steel. “but tonight isn’t about me. it’s about you.”

his words settled low in your stomach, molten and heavy, and before you could think to reply, his lips were on yours.

the kiss wasn’t gentle. sukuna didn’t ask—he took. his mouth moved over yours with a slow, deliberate hunger that left no room for hesitation. his tongue brushed against your bottom lip before sliding inside, tasting you, claiming you with a heat that left you lightheaded.

his hands—strong, calloused, and just the right amount of rough—moved without direction, as if instinct alone drove them. one slid up the bare skin of your back, tugging you against him until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you. another drifted lower, fingers curving to squeeze your thigh, pulling it higher against his hip.

the third tangled into your hair, twisting at the roots with just enough pressure to make you whimper against his mouth. the way he touched you—too many hands, too much strength—left you dizzy and burning.

“fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to catch your lower lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before releasing you. his voice was husky, breath ragged, but his smirk never faded. “already trembling?”

“maybe you should do something about it,” you shot back, though your voice barely rose above a whisper.

his gaze flicked over you, crimson eyes glinting with something darker.

“oh, i intend to.”

before you could react, sukuna swept you up—two hands beneath your thighs, one cradling your back, the last trailing teasingly down your spine. he carried you toward the bed like you weighed nothing, the heat of his body seeping through every layer between you.

when he dropped you onto the plush sheets, he hovered at the edge of the bed, gaze raking over you with the kind of attention that left your skin flushed.

“strip.”

the single word hung heavy in the air, rasping low and deep, more command than request.

your fingers trembled as you pulled at the fabric, peeling away each layer under his watchful eyes.

by the time the last piece fell to the floor, sukuna knelt between your legs, hands spreading your thighs apart with an ease that made your breath catch.

“look at you,” he murmured, his pink hair falling over his forehead as his gaze darkened. thick fingers traced a slow path along the soft skin of your inner thigh, rough fingertips catching on each sensitive dip. “all spread out for me.”

his breath was hot as he lowered his head, lips brushing feather-light kisses over the inside of your legs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

when he finally reached your center, he paused—close enough for you to feel the soft puff of his exhale, but not enough to satisfy the ache blooming between your thighs.

“mine,” he growled, voice vibrating against your skin.

and then his mouth was on you.

his tongue traced a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit, flicking over the sensitive nub with a precision that left your head spinning.

you gasped, fingers flying to his hair, tugging hard at the strands of pink that curled between your knuckles.

he groaned into you, the vibration of his voice sending another jolt straight through your core.

“so fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, the words muffled by the slick heat of his mouth.

his tongue lapped at you in slow, torturous circles, switching between soft flicks and hard strokes that left your thighs trembling.

when his finger pressed into you—thick and unrelenting—you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out.

his crimson eyes flicked up, locking onto yours. “louder,” he commanded, curling his finger inside you until he found that spot that made your hips jerk.

“sukuna,” you gasped, nails digging into his scalp.

his smirk widened against you, but he didn’t relent. another finger joined the first, stretching you just enough to make your toes curl.

“that’s it,” he purred, dragging his tongue over your clit with every pulse of his fingers. “say my name again.”

your breath hitched as heat coiled low in your belly, winding tighter with each stroke.

“sukuna,” you whimpered, body arching into his touch as the pressure inside you built to the edge.

“good girl.”

his tongue moved faster, fingers thrusting deeper until the coil snapped, pleasure flooding your senses so sharply that you swore you saw white.

you writhed beneath him, body trembling with each wave of release, but sukuna didn’t stop. his mouth and hands dragged you through the aftershocks, prolonging the heat until your legs shook violently around his head.

when he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistened, and the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers sent another rush of heat flooding your core.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice rough and low as he hovered over you, his cock pressing against your entrance.

you could feel him—hot, thick, and far too big.

“you’re gonna take every inch,” he growled, tilting your hips higher as he teased your entrance with the tip.

his cock dragged through your slick folds, each shallow thrust making you ache with want.

“look at me.”

your eyes snapped to his, and the sight of him left you breathless. his crimson gaze burned with possession, pink strands of hair falling into his face as he slowly sank inside, stretching you inch by inch.

your nails dug into his shoulders as your head fell back against the pillow.

“sukuna,” you gasped, breath breaking as he filled you completely.

his name spilled from your lips in a breathy moan as he bottomed out, the thick press of his cock stretching you to your limit. sukuna stilled, letting you adjust, his four hands roaming your body in slow, reverent strokes—calloused palms smoothing over your hips, thighs, and breasts as if to memorize every inch.

“fuck,” he rasped, one of his thumbs dragging lazily over your swollen clit. “you’re takin’ me so well. look how deep i am.”

your eyes fluttered open just in time to catch the glint in his gaze, his crimson irises smoldering as he pressed down on the slight bulge in your abdomen.

“you feel that?” he smirked, applying just enough pressure to make you keen. “so full of me already.”

your head fell back, a soft whimper tumbling from your throat as he rolled his hips, the slow drag of him pulling out leaving you trembling.

“stay with me, baby,” he growled, catching your chin between his fingers and tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “i wanna see that pretty face while i fuck you.”

he snapped his hips forward again, the sudden force driving a gasp from your lips. sukuna’s smirk widened as he found his rhythm, each thrust harder, deeper—grinding against that sensitive spot inside that left your thighs trembling around his waist.

“goddamn,” he hissed, leaning down to bite at the curve of your shoulder, his teeth dragging against your flushed skin. “tight little thing. you were made for me.”

your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto as he drove you closer to the edge with every snap of his hips.

“sukuna—please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

“please what?” he teased, dipping his head to suck a bruise just above your collarbone, his tongue flicking over the mark. “you gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

“i—” your voice broke as he angled his thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against that spot so perfectly you thought you might unravel on the spot.

sukuna grinned, reading the desperation in your eyes as if it fueled him. “ah, there it is,” he murmured, lips brushing against your jaw. “that sweet little spot that makes you fall apart.”

his pace quickened, hips pistoning into you with a brutal precision that sent molten pleasure ripping through your veins.

“you close, baby?” he growled, his voice gravelly as his four hands anchored you to the bed—one pressing down against your lower stomach, two gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, and the last tangling in your hair, tugging gently as he sucked at the curve of your throat.

you could only nod, your breath catching as the tension in your core coiled tighter, dangerously close to snapping.

“then cum for me,” he ordered, dragging his thumb over your clit in tight, merciless circles. “let me feel you.”

his words were all it took—your body arched off the bed, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and all-consuming.

sukuna groaned low in his chest, his thrusts growing rougher, sloppier as your walls pulsed around him, milking him for all he was worth.

“fuck, baby,” he snarled, burying himself to the hilt one last time as he came, the heat of his release flooding you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

for a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound between you the ragged cadence of your breathing and the faint crackle of the fire.

for a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound between you the ragged cadence of your breathing and the faint crackle of the fire.

sukuna leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the bruising way he’d just taken you. his hands, once gripping you with unrelenting force, now traced gentle patterns along your waist, grounding you in the quiet intimacy that followed.

“an elf always belongs with santa,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender, as if the words carried a weight neither of you fully understood until now.

your heart skipped at the quiet conviction in his tone, warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth.

you brushed a hand through his pink hair, letting the strands curl around your fingers as you smiled softly. “guess that makes me yours then.”