#ugly life day sweater

[trooperst-3v3]

Busy making an ugly Life Day sweater for Hux.

I haven't had time to knit in a while, and I'm a bit rushed, so it isn't exactly up to my normal standards of quality.

But it's for an ugly sweater contest, not a fashion show. It'll do just fine.

[incomescrane]

local author and flashlight enthusiast gets bullied by various horrors for his ugly christmas sweater

[greyias]

After much dithering. I finally figured out Grey's new, very not snowy weather appropriate, Life Day party dress:

And as stills do not do the absolute sparkliness justice, some motion:

[queen-scribbles]

Ilum Party 2023

My turn for Ilum party pics! :D Oh, wait, nameplates off...

that's better. Less cluttered, at least. Still chaotic, bc what's an Ilum party without utter chaos? :D

I have some interesting angle shots from inside the party bus before it imploded 😅

story time!

only in got interrupted by a sarlacc and a murder mystery. 😅😅

Nerf calf made a friend!

And Elara and @greyias' Theron can't help but gossip about their ridiculous- I mean beloved spouses.

I didn't get the shots I thought I had of the dance-off, danger conga(IT LIVES), and a few other things, but still very fun evening.

Let's see who I can remember to tag @vexa-legacy @sealeneee @shifting-waters @sassheliosazuras, @eorzeashan, @thievinghippo, @touyagirl @oolathurman

[i-just-like-commenting]

Uh, Finnrey fans... ($30, coming October 2023)

[iced-squid]

Meet Wyn Halford. He’s a girlboss and a malewife. The most sleep deprived man alive. His blood is 50% sugar and 50% caffeine. Canonically owns a “Kiss the Cook” apron. [image below the cut.]

[stealingpotatoes]

I think instead of an ugly Christmas sweater, Cal has an ugly Christmas poncho

YES absolutely (except it'd be an ugly life day poncho, ig)

[dreamsteddie]

I think Steddie both have pretty high levels of rizz, just never with each other

Let me explain.

When Steve is flirting with someone he's usually able to strike that balance between embracing himself just enough for them to be endeared and suave enough to compliment them in sweet, charming ways. While he does strike out from time to time, he's mostly able to score the dates he wants.

Eddie is too much of a freak for anyone in Hawkins to take him on, but he can lean into the theatrics and "bad boy" image enough to charm some people against their better judgment, similar to how he flirted with Chrissy. He doesn't usually get the date, and usually isn't even angling for one, but he does get himself out of some potentially sticky situations (as well as create some new ones).

When they start trying to flirt with each other? They both enter their flop eras hard.

Steve becomes clumsy and bumbling in a way he's never experienced before. He's tripping over imaginary runs in the carpet, smacking into door frames, and biting his own tongue whenever Eddie is around. He tries to lean over the counter at work to look up at Eddie when he comes into the store and his elbow lips, leaving him with a busted chin for almost a week.

Eddie, on the other hand, who prides himself on his eloquence suddenly can't get a correct sentence out of his mouth to save his life. He goes to Steve's house with a complete choose-your-own-adventure style script ready to woo Steve, he's prepared for every possibility, but when he gets there he accidentally implies that Steve's sweater is ugly and that Eddie can't do simple addition all in one disaster conversation.

Their lack of ability to flirt with each other delays their inevitable admittance of feelings by at least three months. If not for the heavy intervention of all the party members plus Corroded Coffin, they may still be pining to this day.

[littlechivalry]

Wedding Bell Blues

(no Upside Down AU, meet-ugly, Baker!Steve/wedding singer!Eddie)

--

Eddie is a wedding musician and it's pretty great actually. It's not the rock star life he dreamed of but it's a damned sight better than most people including him expected of Al Munson's little boy.

Eddie gets to play music. For a living. And he does pretty well. He gets to dress up a little snazzy. He gets free fancy food and a couple of drinks. And he gets to shoot his shot with anybody that looks like fun.

He's good at it too. That's the best part. His younger years spent being a low level drug dealer and a high level weirdo mean he can read a room in an instant. He gets the playlist from the bride usually, presses for some other song ideas, and he can tell who to take requests from at six paces. And who to ignore from across the room.

It's a good time.

Unfortunately not all ceremonies can be winners and based on the tension Eddie has felt from almost everyone involved in today's wedding it was going to be a tough gig.

Everything starts in an hour but Eddie isn't on until the reception so he has plenty of time to grab a smoke before soundcheck. He knows the venue pretty well and there's an alcove next to the vendor loading area. Nice flowers, a decent bench, and it's nowhere near the dumpsters.

This venue butts up against a small patch of woodland and Eddie wonders if he might have time to check it out, see if there's anything inspiring. He doesn't hike but he does enjoy a walk in nature.

Before he gets the chance a baby blue van with 'Steve's Sweets' painted across the side pulls up, blocking his sight line.

He mourns the loss of his view right up until the driver pops the door open and climbs out.

Oh, the beauties nature provides.

Acid wash jeans which under any other circumstances Eddie would laugh at are lovingly hugging possibly the finest ass he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The rest of the picture - when he can drag his attention away - is pretty choice too. A soft looking pink sweater, sleeves pushed up to expose sun bronzed skin making Eddie idly wonder if the man is that tan all over.

The crowning glory is a gorgeous head of hair framing a face that Eddie can only describe as pretty.

Eddie tries to turn his attention back to his cigarette. Admiring someone is one thing, leering like a creep is entirely different.

He takes a last drag and drops the filter on the gravel, grinding it out under his feet. Mentally he says farewell to the handsome stranger and turns to go back inside.

Eddie takes two steps before a suit clad man comes out of the building and pushes past him in a rush.

"Steven."

The man's not yelling, but his voice is the kind of loud that demands to be heard.

Eddie turns to watch as the man approaches the van and the other guy, Steve apparently, standing in front of it.

"What the hell are you doing here dressed like that."

Eddie should go inside. This isn't his business. But one of the perks of working weddings was the drama and this was very promising.

He stays where he is, standing just in front of the door. In case either man looks in his direction Eddie actually mimes patting at his jacket like he is looking for his smokes.

"I'm delivering a cake, Dick. And if it wasn't for Diana I wouldn't even be doing that much. She deserves to get something good out of this day."

Eddie bites back a smile, lowering his head a little so he can still watch what was happening ideally without being noticed.

"You will refer to me as father. I believe I have earned at least that much respect."

Eddie feels his eyebrows rise. This kind of drama was another part of why he likes weddings. Better than the soap operas he watches with Uncle Wayne.

"Sure," Steve snorts. "Tell you what, I'll compromise," and he continues, "Riiichaaaard."

"Grow up, Steven. You were invited here as a guest. You had better have a tuxedo in that stupid truck of yours, the ceremony starts in an hour."

"I was hired to bake a cake. Part of my fee includes delivery. That is literally the only reason I'm here. You and the future ex-Mrs Harrington will have to celebrate without me. Try not to cry yourself to sleep about it."

"You little asshole," Richard snarls. "You think you're better than me. You think I wanted you here? You owe me your presence. I have important people coming to this wedding and I need them to see my dutiful son at my side."

The baker laughs, a low nasty chuckle that sends a perverse shiver down Eddie's back.

"Tell you what, Dick, I'm booked up today but I'll come to your next wedding." Eddie looks up to see Steve is grinning, bright and as sharp as a knife. "I'll even get you a toaster."

Eddie lurches in place as he sees Richard lunge towards Steve. He is too far away to stop the man but he has to do something.

Before he takes a step the door swings open again and a petite woman comes rushing out.

"Richard?"

Eddie watches as she runs forward tugging at the satin bathrobe she is wrapped in. She freezes a few feet away from what had been brewing into a nasty fight.

"Steve? You're here-- oh, but your suit! Richard? What's going on?"

The older man doesn't turn around, doesn't seem to notice her at all but Eddie watches Steve gingerly move until he is standing between his father and the woman.

"Hey Diana," he says softly. "Sorry you had to see this, dad and me just have a difference of opinion. Everything's fine."

Eddie feels something in him clench. He is very familiar with the tone in Steve's voice. He had heard it from his uncle Wayne to his dad when he was a little kid. It is soft but firm, implacable. Eddie isn't sure exactly what is coming but he can tell Steve knew and that it would be bad.

The venue usually had at least two security patrolling the grounds, more if the reception was expected to be contentious. Eddie doesn't know where they are right now but hopefully not far.

"See what you've done Steven? God, you're useless."

"Richard, don't say that," Diana says, her voice rising.

The older man is turning from pink to red and Eddie can see Steve moving slowly, shifting his father's attention to him.

"That's me, Richard. Useless Steve. Flunked out of college and he bakes cookies like some kind of fairy. You sure you want to parade your failure of a son in front of the hoi polloi?"

Eddie hears Diana's gasp from where he's standing. "Steve, what are you talking about? Richard what's going on?"

Richard turns his glare on her and Eddie feels himself moving forward almost against his own will. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there but he's never been the bystander type.

Steve just laughs. Bright and angry. "I'm not sure what my father told you about our relationship but we don't have one."

"No," she says. "Your father-- he told me-- "

When Eddie met her a few weeks ago he had seen a confident, charming woman that knew exactly what she wanted and was excited to be married. Now she looks confused, maybe even scared.

Eddie has gotten closer to this whole altercation than he wanted to be but since he is there and it looks like Steve and Richard are busy trying to glare holes in each other Eddie steps up to Diana and lightly grasps her elbow.

She startles and turns to face him. Her eyes are wide, wet and staring.

"Mr. Munson," she asks, softly.

Eddie tries to smile. "Mr. Munson is my uncle, ma'am. It's Eddie. Let's get you out of here, okay? Back inside."

Eddie is able to gently guide her a few steps away. He hates turning his back on the other two men but he needs to get Diana out of reach for whatever is about to happen.

"I dont understand," the bride mutters. "Steve used to be such a sweet boy. Mr. Harrin-- Richard. Oh, I'm so silly. Richard. He said-- this is so embarassing."

Her voice is pitched and tight and if she isn't crying yet she would be soon. Eddie resolves to get her inside and into the arms of literally any friendly face.

"Hey," Eddie says. "Let's just--" he scrambles for a name. Anna? Annie? "Amy, right? Your maid of honor? Let's get you to her, okay. You can sit down."

Diana nods.

Behind him he can hear Richard and Steve hissing noxious words back and forth. There is no shouting but the air is heavy and hot with anger. Even though he was outside Eddie feels like he can't breathe.

Eddie gets Diana to the door, hadn't realized how close they really were, maybe 30 feet if that. It's open, anxious faces framed in weathered oak. He hands Diana off to her Maid of Honor who quickly sweeps the woman deeper into the hall and then he nods to Patricia Abernathy, the event space manager.

"Think we're gonna have a cancellation," he says, nodding towards the departing woman.

She rolls her eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised. I had a bad feeling about this one."

Eddie scoffs. "You have a bad feeling about all of them."

He turns to face where the two men are still in a stand off in front of the van. "You're not wrong though, I think. At least I hope they cancel."

Patricia snorts. "We got the deposits locked down and the contract is airtight so if they cancel we still get fifty percent of the remaining fee. I'll take that for the rest of the day off."

"You got a date, Patty? And it's not me? You're breaking my heart."

"Ha," she says flatly. "That pretty boy is more your type and from the way he's talking you're in with a chance. Now you keep an eye on those two. Security is on their way, we'll see if they can get here before these guys start really butting heads."

Eddie nods. It isn't the first time he had been called on to help manage fractious families.

He turns back in time to see Richard take a swing at Steve. The younger guy steps back out of the way and Eddie can hear his mocking laugh as far away as the door.

He moves closer to the two of them. Eddie isn't going to get in the middle of the fight but maybe if he reminds them there are other people around that might be enough to calm them down.

He watches Richard lunge forward and swing again. This time Steve can't move away fast enough and the blow glances off of his cheek.

"Hey," Eddie calls, now jogging towards them. "Hey, knock it off! You wanna fight take it somewhere else!"

Steve turns to face Eddie, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something but all that comes out is a low grunt as Richard hits him in the shoulder and shoves him to the ground.

Eddie throws himself forward, pushing Richard away. "What do you think you're doing," he shouts in the man's face but Richard doesn't seem to hear, pressing back against Eddie.

"You little bastard," Richard shouts at his son. "You're worthless! I don't know why I bothered."

"Go to hell," Steve replies.

That seems to make Richard even angrier which Eddie hadn't thought was possible. He isn't sure he will be able to hold him off much longer.

"Hey, what's going on here," a low even voice calls. It is the venue security guard, his partner just behind him with a hand on his radio.

Eddie feels himself relax and then stumbles back as Richard pushes him aside to fall on his son again.

Eddie turns to see both guards trying to pull the older man away as he continues to hit his son, screaming obscenities.

Not sure how to help, Eddie stands by. When he sees an opening he lunges forward and takes hold of Steve's shoulders, pulling him back and away.

The younger man fights against him at first, eyes closed and arms up in front of his face.  Eddie figures he probably didn't know whose hands are on him.

"Hey. Hey. It's me, Eddie. Shit. I work here. You're safe, security has your dad. You're safe."

Eddie steps back, loosening his grip on Steve but still keeping one hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth him.

A few feet away Richard is still twisting, trying to get free and attack his son again, but Eddie can see the guards have a good hold on him and it doesn't look like they will be letting go any time soon.

As Steve calms down Eddie lets go of his shoulder, instead crouching next to him. "You doing okay? I saw you had you hands up but he got a few hits in."

Steve lowers his arms and sits upright. He twists his neck back and forth and shifts his shoulders before opening his eyes and looking up at Eddie. "I'm okay. I'm fine. God, it's a soap opera isn't it? Fuck."

Eddie lets himself drop into a seat next to the other man. They both watch in silence as the guards march Steve's father around the corner to the front of the event hall.

"You know the bride? Diana," the guy asks. "She was my babysitter. When I was eleven."

"Oof," Eddie says. "So she was--"

"Seventeen then, and now it's been twenty years for her and about three wives for him."

"Scandalous," Eddie murmurs. He sees Steve smile and feels relieved. "What will people say. The 'hoi polloi' I believe you called them?"

Steve snorts. "A crowd of empty suits that exist solely to tell my dad how respected he is. Will he get arrested?"

"Maybe," Eddie says. "I think that might be up to you. It's assault at least."

"Ugh," Steve says, rubbing his face. "That's all I need. I'm trying to get him out of my life."

"Well," Eddie says. "I can attest that jail is very good at keeping deadbeat dads out of your life."

Steve starts laughing and then winces, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

"Shit, you are hurt," Eddie says, scrambling to his feet. "Do you need an ambulance? Patty probably called 911 by now."

Steve waves him off. "I'm fine. This is not my first fight and my old man hits-- well, I was gonna say 'like a girl' but then my best friend would kick my ass and I'm way more scared of her," Steve says, laughing softly.

He looks up at Eddie and holds out his free hand. "You gonna help me up? Or is chivalry dead?"

"Chivalry," Eddie repeats. "You a damsel in distress?"

"I might as well be," Steve says. "Now come on."

Eddie laughs and reaches down, gently guiding Steve back to his feet. He feels the man's weight leaning on him for a few seconds and despite the circumstances Eddie has to admit Steve feels good in his arms.

Once he is steady Steve steps back and Eddie lets him go.

Steve moves to the van and leans up against the metal surface. Eddie walks over to join him.

"So," Steve says. "What next?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. The wedding is canceled, for sure. For today at least."

"Just for today? You think she'll marry him still?"

Eddie shrugs. "I have no idea. I wouldn't but then I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."

Steve leans back, tapping his head against the van a few times before he turns back to Eddie. "You know the worst part? This was my last delivery. Now, I have to deal with this stupid cake. Three tiers of lemon and raspberry." He laughs. "Do you think a homeless shelter will take a wedding cake?"

Eddie grins. "I don't see why not. At least something good will come out of today."

Steve looks up towards the hall. "I feel like I should say something-- to Diana, I mean. She was always really nice to me, she deserved better than this."

"I have found that good or bad people rarely get what they deserve. You don't really owe her anything but I can't fault the impulse." Turning towards the hall, Eddie gestures for Steve to follow him. "Just-- just don't apologize for him? Okay?"

Steve walks in silence for a few steps before he coughs roughly. His voice is thick and choked and he coughs again. "I, uh, I stopped apologizing for him a long time ago. His faults are his own. I just wish I didn't get dragged into it."

Eddie laughs. "I know that song."

"Yeah," Steve asks.

Eddie nods. They are at the door and he pulls it open for the other man, gesturing him in with a bow.

Steve stops in the doorway as Eddie stands up again. He is framed by the light inside and the scent of hothouse roses comes drifting out into the open air. Eddie can picture him suddenly in that moment standing at a balcony limned by moonlight.

"Hey Sunshine," Eddie says softly. "Buy me a drink and we can trade stories?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah," he says, with a small laugh. "Sure, why not." He holds up his hands, still dirty and scraped from the asphalt. "Help me get cleaned up and let me say something to Diana. Then we can talk."

Eddie nods, reaches out, and places his hands gently over Steve's. "Sounds good to me."

[trooperst-3v3]

Took half a day off so I could work on Hux's Life Day sweater, which features Snow Miser with a steel chair.

Think I'm also gonna make a sweater for Ben Solo which features Heat Miser with a folding table. Because I love spreading both Life Day cheer and drama.

Not sure if Ben Solo can even make himself solid enough to wear a sweater, but I'm confident he can figure something out.

[koalayoo]

ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ, ʙᴏʏ

michael kaiser x gn!reader

content: pure fluff for the most part, soft! bf kaiser, reference to his backstory, kind of cocky, better than my last fic for sure

author's note: wanted to write a good christmasy bday fic for him. bit late, apologies. not really proofread or beta'd. apologies again.

wc. 1.3k

Kaiser had never celebrated Christmas.

Christmas was also his birthday.

That means Kaiser has never celebrated his birthday.

This was what had become apparent to you in your relationship with Kaiser, when all the walls between you two had become bulldozed and you realised, yeah, this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. You had come to understand that with Kaiser’s upbringing and all that he would have probably never received a gift from his father. You wonder if at that age he knew what Christmas was.

Then you started tumbling head-first into a hole of unanswered questions. What would he have even done for his birthday? Was anyone there to ever celebrate with him? You knew how bad he had it growing up, you regrettably knew. Part of you wished you didn’t know how bad it was, hoped that sometimes his father grew to be lenient or that maybe the old women in town that would see him around knew his name. Knew him to be more than Michael “professional neighbour thief” Kaiser and instead as the kid he was. That was just wishful thinking though.

He had received gifts, which was expected. He was a pro athlete but he also had Ness from the age of 15 who had most definitely gifted him something you assumed but weren’t privy to the details. However, he hadn’t celebrated. Hadn’t experienced true Christmas joy. He doesn’t know the feeling of waking up early and ripping open the wrapping paper on specially curated gifts that sit under the tree you both decorated together. Hasn’t felt what it’s like making cookies with the radios ruffled Christmas carols sputtering in the background. Wearing matching sweaters while watching stupidly predictable themed rom coms. Making a wreath to put on the front door. Kissing under the mistletoe. Ughhh, there was so much you needed to show him.

So, you did just that.

As soon as December started, you did your utmost best to get him into the festive spirit.

On the 1st, you brought home a tree and excitedly decorated it with Kaiser. Putting various coloured ornaments on, some the typical solid coloured balls, others with stripes and patterns, differing sizes, differing shapes. Then, Kaiser had placed you on his shoulders so that you could place the star on the tippity top despite your insistence it be him.

On the 5th, you went shopping with two very important things in mind. A wreath, and some ugly sweaters. On the way you slipped in some ingredients for cookies too.

On the 14th, you had started wrapping some presents. You had both agreed 3 presents was a good amount to give one another but you couldn’t help but feel a gnaw at the back of your head. It was also his birthday, you just had to double it.

On the 17th, you had put the wreath up which welcomed him home from a long day at practice.

On the 22nd, you had finally worn the sweaters which you had taken a polaroid of before promptly taking them off, sweltering from the heat of the oven that was baking the cookies you both had put hours into making. Later that night, bad christmas movie #1 was watched.

The 23rd and 24th followed a similar routine. Jam out to a different song before you got sick of it and watch another bad christmas movie. 

Then, it was the day.

All the extra presents you hid from him were placed under the tree and you made hot cocoa for two. You had to work quickly, Kaiser was used to waking up at the odd early hours of the morning and there was no doubt he would feel you missing next to him.

Soon, he had stumbled down the stairs and was greeted with you wrapping a blanket around him. You had pulled him down onto the floor and planted a present in front of him, a chaste kiss pressed against his forehead.

“Happy Birthday, handsome.” You whispered softly into the air.

He had begun to wake up more and noticed the excessive amount of presents under the tree. He looked at the presents, then at you, and an eyebrow raised comically.

“And, Merry Christmas too, I guess…” You playfully rolled your eyes with a small smile appearing on your face. “Although that one’s of lesser importance.”

He sighs although he can’t help the small upwards tilt of his lips. “Thought we agreed on 3 each?” “Yeah, but it’s your birthday too! I wasn’t gonna be one of those people, ya know? The ones who just say the Christmas presents are also their birthday presents. You deserve to be celebrated twice.” 

“Yeah but-” And you briefly cut him off because if there was one thing you knew about Kaiser which was wrapped behind layers just like the presents was this feeling of foreboding. That he didn’t deserve this. However, your job as his brilliant partner was to teach him to sit there and take it.

So you started to celebrate, taking turns ripping the presents you both put love and care into wrapping. For every 2 gifts Kaiser opened, you opened one of yours in tandem. You giggled seeing him get you exactly what you wanted and teased him when a small blush appeared on his face when he got the same.

Although, there was one last present you wanted to give him.

A house full of love.

You wanted him to learn this holiday season that you were truly never leaving. Not like his mother, or even his begrudging father. That you were full of love for him and everything that came with choosing him. The arguments, the boundaries, the fear; you couldn’t fix it but you could help and that’s the sentiment you hoped to get across.

Later that day when you finished putting your gifts away and throwing the egregious amount of wrapping paper, you enter the living room to see Kaiser plotting. 

Before you can fully enter he spits out, “Stay right there.” You murmur in acknowledgement and stay put, eyes trailing the figure that is walking towards you suspiciously, one hand placed firmly behind him. You shoot him a questioning look to which he shakes his head, not budging.

“Should invite Ness over.” 

“Why would we do that?” He questions. “Fine with just me and you here, no?”

“Season of forgiveness, champ. Do I need to teach you how to be a good friend too?”

He’s stalked all the way over to you now. He towers above you and the hand he isn’t hiding comes to hold the top of the frame, leaning down towards you. His shirt lifts a little. You look. Then you look back at your boyfriend who has leaned in even closer.

His nose nudges against yours and you knew this was one of his ways of trying to assert dominance with the way a small brazen smirk made its way to his face. Could this guy try not to be a dick for one day? You notice the way his lips brush against yours slightly and you sigh, trying not to be pulled in.

“Answer?”

“Mmm, I’ll think about it?” He chuckles and leans in to swoop your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It didn’t last long because his smile broke the seal between you two apart. His eyes have a gleam in them and they flick up causing you to do the same.

Oh. 

A mistletoe.

“When did you learn about this one?” You whisper softly, genuinely curious.

“I had a tough childhood, doesn’t mean I lived under a rock.” He laughs again, this time more joyfully. You’re not sure whether it’s the fact that he successfully tricked you or that you truly rendered him this clueless.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. You see the sliver of magenta hair through the window panels near the door before you hear him.

Oh.

Maybe Kaiser doesn’t need you to guide him after all.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Title is from December by Ariana Grande. Thanks for reading!

[bwabys-scenarios]

Princess(NSFW)

Yandere!Kurapika x Chubby!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: nsfw, breeding, yandere behavior, Kurapika is enamored with you, reader’s body is made fun of(not by Kurapika), violence, death

A/N: the food throwing scene is based on something that happened to me in school LOL

HXH Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter @sweetmiri

He can’t get enough of you, really. From the moment he met you, Kurapika was immediately pulled in by your sweet voice and soft frame.

Everything from your cute chubby cheeks to your pretty plump lips had his heart racing.

Of course, Kurapika wasn’t the type to talk for looks alone. You were more kind and patient than he thought possible, always there for him when he needed support or comfort, and never getting upset when he would leave for unspecified periods of time.

You were always so understanding, so sweet and unapologetically you. A ray of sunshine was the only way he could describe you. Even the cloudiest days couldn’t dull your shine.

To him, you were an angel, his princess. Anything you asked for, he would hand deliver if it meant you would give him that pretty smile of yours.

He just adored you endlessly, nothing made him more happy than being by your side.

Kurapika, however, was unfortunately quite shy. It’s not that he didn’t want to share his feelings with you, he just… was afraid of rejection. So, while on missions or away from you, he would stare at your picture, sighing as he dreamed of a life where the two of you could be together.

It wasn’t long before his little crush started to grow into something more… obsessive. After all, the two of you were close, were you not? When he would announce he was coming to visit, you would drop all other plans so you’d be available for him. That meant something, right?

So today, as he took you shopping, Kurapika decided it was about time to tell you how he really felt.

“How does this look?”

You walked out of the changing room in a tight miniskirt and a sweater, making Kurapika glad he wore his loose fitted tabard today.

You plump tummy and soft thighs made his dick twitch, and he cleared his throat as he crossed his legs, his cheeks red. “Y-you look great, (Name).”

Once you changed, he added the clothes to the steadily growing pile of things he wanted to buy you. Kurapika couldn’t help it, you just looked amazing in everything you put on.

Kurapika paid for your clothes before taking his hand in yours. “How about some ice cream? It’s pretty warm out.”

“Ooo, that sounds really yummy-“

The two paused when they heard someone muffling their laugh nearby. Kurapika eyes narrowed before cutting to the left.

“Pfft! Are you sure she needs ice cream?”

You shrunk into yourself as a group of girls and their boyfriends laughed to themselves. Kurapika hated this, he hated seeing you try to hide yourself due to the rude comments of others. You never had anything bad to say about another person, so why were you the one always being insulted and belittled?

“Come on, there’s no need to listen to the words of those with an ugly heart.”

He attempted to guide you away, only for you to yelp when a piece of food was thrown at you.

“There, fatty. If you’re so hungry, eat that.”

Kurapika stood completely still, his eyes on the stain now on your sweater. It had been a gift from him, a soft pink cashmere sweater that you loved.

“K-Kurapika, let’s just go…”

After being friends with Kurapika for a long time, you knew that the scarlet hue taking over his eyes meant trouble in this context. You tried to fight back the tears of humiliation and hurt to prevent Kurapika from going on a rampage.

“I-I’m okay, we can just wash my sweater later. Let’s go to m-my apartment…”

He let out a shaky breath, glaring daggers at the group before gently squeezing your hand. “Alright, angel. Let’s go.”

You sighed in relief, unaware that the quick glance Kurapika made was enough to pick up on several things to later identify the group of people.

They wore jackets with a local college’s symbol, and a few of them still had their part time job uniforms on. ‘Not only are they scum, they’re stupid too. It won’t take much to destroy their lives, and they handed me their information on a silver platter.’

But he wasn’t focused on that now. Kurapika instead shifted his attention to you. Just like you knew when he was about to snap, he knew when you were about to break.

“(Name)… you don’t have to keep up a brave face. What those people said was rude and uncalled for.”

He brought his hand to your face, gently wiping away the stray tears that fell down your soft chubby cheeks. “I’m sorry, (Name). Today was supposed to be a fun day out. Now it’s ruined…”

“It’s not your fault…” you said softly, leaning into his touch. “I was… getting tired anyways. We can hang out at my apartment for a bit instead, eat some snacks and watch a movie.”

Kurapika smiled, his eyes softening as he gave your cheek a light squeeze. “That sounds lovely. I much prefer time spent alone with you to days out anyways.”

————————

Kurapika was currently trying his best not to get hard as (Name) snuggled up with him on the couch, your head resting on his chest.

It wasn’t easy being in love with (Name) and not knowing if you felt the same. You were so sweet and affectionate, always wanting to be held and cared for, but he wasn’t sure if you wanted this attention from him alone, or if you were just this way with everyone.

“Kurapika, kisses…”

His head felt fuzzy and he could hardly move without the bulge forming in his pants throbbing, but Kurapika leaned down and peppered kisses on your cheeks and forehead. “Are you feeling any better now?”

You smiled, your chubby cheeks warm as you leaned into his snuggles. “Yeah… I feel very warm and happy right now.”

He traced circles into the soft flesh of your belly, nuzzling his face against your neck. “That’s a relief. I never want to see you upset, (Name).”

His warm breath fanned against your neck, his lips grazing your jaw. It made you feel funny, and your squirming didn’t escape his watch.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft… but with a husky edge. Kurapika traced circles into your thigh with the tip of his fingers.

You shivered, and that caught his attention. His eyes lit up before he smirked, gently groping your fat thigh. “Come on, if something’s wrong you should tell me, sweetheart…”

“Mmph… feels weird, Pika… when you get this close I feel all warm and fuzzy…”

He felt something warm spreading through his body, and when he began to subconsciously guide your hips over the bulge in his pants, the two of you both moaned in unison.

Kurapika was quick to slip your skirt up, his hand groping your soft, fleshy ass. Your panties were soaked, he could see the wet spot spreading as his fingers lightly ran over your clothed clit.

Every soft whine and whimper that left your plump lips had his cock twitching, begging for release. He wanted you to know how much he desired you, how badly he needed to be inside your pretty, fat pussy.

Although all he wanted to do was slip your panties to the side and fuck you right there, Kurapika was in love with you. He didn’t want his first time with you to be quick and fueled by lust.

So he scooped you up, much to your chagrin. You whined and complained, but he shut you up with a kiss to your forehead.

“Holding you in my arms is the highest honor. (Name)… I adore you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He laid you down on your bed, pinning your wrists above you head before kissing down your neck. “I want you…”

Your little plea for him made him bite back a groan. He could tell that you were getting restless by the way your hips bucked into his. You… wanted him.

“You already have me…” he murmured, your panties being tugged down with one hand while his lips met yours. “My body, heart, and soul, it all belongs to you. It has since the moment we met.”

The two of you shared a kiss as his tip pressed into you. He held onto your hand, letting you squeeze it as he entered you for the first time.

He was in heaven, nothing had ever given him so much pleasure before. Kurapika bit on his lip, trying not to cum on the spot.

“God, (Name)…”

He pulled back his hips and pushed back in, shuddering I’m ecstasy.

“P-Pika…”

He blinked, the fog of pleasure clearing from his mind. Tears were pouring down your burning cheeks, and he could see a bit of blood dripping from your warm cunt.

He was your first.

“F-fuck, (Name)..!”

Kurapika panicked, instantly leaning forward to check you over. You were sniffling, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“J-just hurts a little… my first time…” you managed to get out through your sniffles.

Soft, sweet kisses were placed all over your face, and he nuzzled your cheek. “I’m so sorry, princess. I…”

You leaned into his kisses, nuzzling him back. “It’s okay… I know you’d never hurt me on purpose…”

The two of you lay there, connected in the most intimate way while you shared kisses and soft words of love. It was enough to make you blush, seeing how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

The pain ebbed away into pleasure, and soon enough you were moving your hips, your eyes growing hazy. “M-mmm… can you..?”

“Y-yeah…”

He was panting too, hips stuttering as he tried his best to hold back for you. If anyone on this planet loved you, it was Kurapika.

The second his cock pulled out and fully sunk into you again, you both let out a breathy moan. It’s like the two of you were in sync.

He buried his face into your neck as his hips rutted into yours, only the sounds of skin agaisnt skin and whines of pleasure could be heard in that dark room.

“I love you… god, I love you so much (Name)…”

The next day, dark hickeys would litter your neck, but tonight it looked so tender and pure… he had to cover it in his marks so everyone would know you were taken.

Each bite, each suck had you crying out, pain mixing with pleasure. His grip on your hips was like iron, keeping you in place so he could pound into your pussy until you saw stars.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Kurapika had always been gentle with you, never in a million would he ever think of hurting you on purpose, but tonight he left unintentional bruises everywhere he touched you.

He just had to have you as close as possible, your bodies pressed against each other so closely that you could feel his heart beat against your breast.

All he could think of was cumming inside of you, the thought of your belly heavy and swollen with his young flooding his mind.

And by the end of the night, he was curled up around you, his finger tracing circles over your belly. Both of you were exhausted, but happy.

“I love you too, Kurapika…” you whispered, resting your head on his chest as you drifted off.

His fingers gently played with your hair as he lost himself in thought. If he wanted you to be happy and safe… he would have to get his hands dirty.

Kurapika never wanted you to be sad again… and he had an idea on how to help.

——————

The sound of something big being dragged across the floor could be heard, along with a wet THWACK!

“P-please! We’re sorry, we d-didn’t know she was important to you! Just let us go!”

Kurapika dragged a man by the hair and threw him against the wall, his form slumping before falling on top of the various other bodies that were piling up.

“Let you go? No… I couldn’t risk that. How do I know you wouldn’t just find another person to take out all of your anger on?”

Kurapika held up a piece of paper, waving it in the man’s face. “Your mother abandoned you when you were just a child, and now you take out your mommy issues on women that look like her.”

The picture revealed a plump woman in her thirties that had the same body type as you.

He tilted his head towards a girl that was tied up, her head still fuzzy from being drugged. “Does your girlfriend over there know you’re a serial killer? You spend your days harassing random women on the street, then bring women that look like your mother home to torture them before they’re slaughtered.”

Kurapika stabbed the man through the leg, causing screams to tear through the cool night air. “You’ve gotten off easy for domestic abuse charges because your father is on the police force… but I’m not sure daddy can save you now.”

He stepped on the man’s face, taking a drag off of a cigarette. You hated him smoking, but right now he needed it. “I was going to just beat the shit out of you until you got the message… but seems like letting you back on the streets is just going to put my princess in danger.”

After putting the cigarette out on the man’s eye and listening to him scream, Kurapika brought down his foot again and again until all that was left was a bloody mush.

By then, the woman had begun waking up, and screamed. “N-no, don’t hurt me!”

The blonde turned, blood splattered across his face. “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He pulled out a gun and shot her, then sighed. “See? An instant death.”

Fire spread across the area, the smell of burning skin and flesh alerting people nearby. Kurapika had already fled the scene, and was washing off at a hotel.

Killing wasn’t something he enjoyed… but if it was for you, he could do it. He never wanted you to be afraid or in danger, and anyone who made you cry was unforgivable.

You were sitting on the couch, watching a movie when he got home. It was late, but thankfully you were still up. After all that killing, he needed the comfort.

“Pika, you’re just in time! I just started this new movie, I heard it’s really good!”

He smiled, plopping down next to you and leaning his head in your shoulder. You smelt so good and your body was warm and inviting, he couldn’t hep but bring you close and bury his face into your neck.

“You know I would do anything for you, right (Name)?”

His scarlet eyes looked up at you, and for a moment… you were strangely uneasy. They seemed almost… crazed.

“W-what do you mean?”

But as quick as you spotted it, his eyes were back to normal. “Nothing, nothing.”

He pulled you into his lap, inhaling your scent. “What’s the movie about?”

You knew Kurapika had violent tendencies… but in your heart, you wanted to believe he was a good man, and would never hurt anyone. He was your lover, your best friend… but god did you worry about him.

As the two of you went to sleep that night, he held you as close as possible, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I would kill for you, you know… and… maybe I already have.”

You weren’t sure why he said that all of a sudden, but he stayed completely calm, as if it was the most normal statement in the world.

“Kurapika… you don’t have to do that… please… don’t.”

You caressed his cheek, looking into his soft brown eyes… and decided to ignore his words.

“Goodnight, love.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he held your face in his hands. “(Name)…”

Before he could say anything else, he sighed and smiled fondly at you. “… goodnight.”

As you slept, a strange possessive feeling crept into his heart, and his grip tightened until you whimpered in his sleep.

He would kill for you, end anyone that tried to hurt you or take you away…

Kurapika kissed the top of your head and promised himself that he’d toss his morals aside if it meant keeping you safe.

Anything for you, his princess.

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - 2024

Guess who's backkkkk??? Ok so I know that I am late but only by like 4 days? So not too bad. Anyway! Welcome to Prince's 2024 Fic Rec List! I am now aiming to do a list every year (and more if we are lucky but let's not promise that hehe). As always here are my top 10 fics I read and a special bonus mention !

Perfect Star That Hid by thebigoblin (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

He turns his hand— It’s not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name. His soulmate’s name. He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?

Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation. “My Christmas gift to you, nephew.” Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. “I’d like you to meet your soul mate.” *** Derek's uncle Peter decides to get a little more creative this Christmas by finding Derek's soulmate and stuffing him in a box with a pretty bow on top.

Stiles Stilinski, Magical PI by suzvoy (1/1 | 21K | Mature)

Stiles is a Private Investigator, only not really. He's also magical, but only close up. One thing he's really good at is lusting over people from afar, which is why it's a problem when Laura Hale hires him to help her brother.

Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee (3/3 | 12K | Explicit)

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits. Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side. So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.

Welcome to the Jingle by Jmeelee (1/1 | 1K | Mature)

Derek could admit—only to himself, of course, never out loud—that he was a little desperate to make new holiday traditions with his (officially all adults now thank god) pack. But his ideas had run more along the lines of a cozy take-out dinner at his new apartment, an ugly sweater or white elephant party, or maybe volunteering at the local soup kitchen. It had not involved spending Christmas Eve at Jungle.

Hey Dad, Derek Hale Is In My Room. Bring Your Gun. by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 767 | Teen)

Being the Sheriff's kid is hard enough. Having a seemingly over-protective father who's more concerned about your bad influence than your ex-murder-suspect werewolf boyfriend is so much worse.

"The point is, I'm an adult," he amends, heaving a weary sigh as he attempts to salvage whatever is left of his dignity. "I can make my own decisions, and I choose Derek. He makes me happy. He's a good guy. He treats me well. He looks out for me, keeps me safe. He's responsible and respectful and a complete gentleman, and I really think that if you just got to know him a little better, you'd really—" The Sheriff holds up a hand, effectively cutting Stiles off mid-ramble. "I like Derek just fine," he says, and the smile that spreads across his face is warm and genuine. "You do?" Stiles falters, completely thrown. "Wait, so then why—" The Sheriff's fond smile turns to one of wry amusement. "It's you I don't trust, Stiles," he says around a hearty chuckle. "I've raised you for 18 years, I know exactly what kind of mischief you're capable of. Wouldn't want you dragging that nice, respectable boy into any trouble."

The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway... right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.

Over the Hedge(witch) by rororowyourboat (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Derek moves into a new house with Laura and he is flustered by the hot gardener next door who is always just slightly dirty.

And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved by suchfun (1/1 | 14K | Teen)

"Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay." "You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?" Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood." Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head." "Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles. "I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead." Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."

Remember What's Lost by AMatchInWater (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Wild Hunt AU, Stiles gets taken and Derek instantly knows something is wrong with his memory, but just doesn't know what until Lydia calls him, begging for his help to get Stiles back because she thinks they have the strongest connection. When Derek saves Stiles he stops at nothing to finally get what's his.

princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic has a heck of a lot of emotions and when Derek fell to his knees, my heart broke. you gotta read it to find out why! don't worry I will never read or rec unhappy endings)

Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead (1/1 | 15K | Explicit)

Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late? ______________________________________________________ “Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked. “I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly. And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?

That is all for 2024 my friends! Please remember to give kudos and leave comments for all our amazing Sterek writers. I know I'd be lost without you all. Thank you!

[tlou-reid]

Apple Spice Cake ❆ Aaron Hotchner

☃︎ SUMMARY: you and aaron attend the BAU christmas party and get some alone time after. part three of the baked goodies series.

☃︎WARNINGS: mainly smut MDNI, oral (fem receiving), fingering, piv, dirty talk, mentions of drinking, i think that's it lmk if i missed anything

☃︎NOTE: i was under the influence of prescription flu medicine the whole time i wrote this so if it is bad or there are mistakes i apologize. i also apologize for this being a week late, i was basically dead from the flu.

swiftmas materlist ❅ baked goodies ❅ cheese danishes

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“Under the mistletoe, watching the fire flow, and telling me, ‘I love you’. Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm, where every wish comes true.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, one last time, smoothing your hands over the red fabric that adorned your body. Aaron laughed from behind you, placing his hands on your hips. “Yes, my love, I am sure.” 

You weren’t sure if it was the holiday air or if Aaron being off for a whole week was boosting his mood, but you were not complaining. He had been so kind, so loving, recently, and it was turning your heart into mush. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, checking you out in the mirror one last time, before disappearing to find Jack and make sure he was dressed and ready.

You made your way to the kitchen, going to put your finishing touches on the cake you had made to bring with you. You had also baked a few sugar cookies and a small tray of brownies to take to the party. Everything was laid out neatly, each decorated with a Christmas icing and sprinkles.

“Can I have one yet?” Jack groaned as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked absolutely adorable, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater and with a red beanie on his head. “We both know the answer to that,” You laughed at him. You had spent the last 24 hours telling him he had to wait until you all arrived at Rossi’s house, but he could not take no for an answer.

Aaron joined you and Jack in the kitchen, each of you grabbed a dessert, and you made your way out the door. Jack was in charge of protecting the cookies and the brownies while Aaron drove, and you held onto the prized possession: the gorgeous apple spiced cake. The drive was filled with Christmas music playing on the radio and jokes being thrown around.

You couldn’t be happier with the way life turned out after your and Aaron’s conversation. It had been about a month, cases for Aaron had slowed down, and you and Jack were building a relationship. Aaron had told him you were his girlfriend and he was very accepting of it. You didn’t want to replace his mom, just be another woman he could turn to when he needed. Everything was going well.

The Christmas party will be your first time officially meeting Aaron’s team. He had talked about them a ton, telling you how they are his family, the way they were there for him when Haley passed, how they helped with Jack when he needed someone to, and the pivotal role they had when he returned from witness protection. You had a lot to live up to and you did not want to blow it.

So, safe to say, you were a bit nervous. You knew at the end of the day Aaron loved you and you knew nothing could change that, but you wanted a good first impression. Hence, the massive amount of desserts and the expensive red dress you adorned.

Aaron made his way to the passenger side of the car, grabbing the cake from you so you could step out of the car and not stumble in the boots you wore. You took the cake back from him, wanting to present it yourself. With desserts in hand, you three marched up to David Rossi’s door, allowing Aaron to knock. “You know you don’t have to knock,” An older man, whom you figured was Rossi, said as he opened the door. He had a glass of wine in his hand, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, and flour spots covering his black t-shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight.

Rossi held the door open as you all piled through. You stood confidently behind Aaron, looking around at his ginormous house. “Where can I sit this?” You asked, lifting the cake for emphasis. “Y/N!” Rossi cheered. “Hello, Mr. Rossi,” You blushed, withdrawing farther behind Aaron, not being comfortable with all of the attention. Leading you to the kitchen, Rossi uses his hand to brush you off, “Drop the Mr., too formal for me.” You giggled, “Yes, sir.”

“Y/N!” He scolded, clearing a spot on the counter for your cake, “Stop with the formalities,” You were laughing at him again. You carefully sat the cake down, not wanting to mess it up. Jack and Aaron followed you in, with a blonde lady trailing behind them. “Is she here?” You heard her question from behind Aaron, presuming she was talking about you. “She is,” Aaron laughed, “Don’t scare her away.”

Listening to Aaron laugh was something the team was still getting used to. It had become more frequent in the past month, but there were no complaints coming from them.

“She’s going to love me,” Penelope hushed Aaron, before turning to you. “Hi!” She practically squealed, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “I’m Penelope Garcia, residential tech nerd of the BAU.” She introduced when she pulled away, giving you a silly salute. “You’re scaring her,” Rossi piped in from where he was finishing the food prep. Everyone in the kitchen let out a laugh.

After a few more minutes of playful banter, Penelope was dragging you away, to Rossi’s large dining room. “Look who I found!” She was squealing again, pulling you by your hand to sit down next to her. You’re met with a few more faces, not knowing who was who. The only one you could place from Aaron’s rambling was Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius of the group. He was easily recognizable by his flowing hair, resembling a boyband member, just as Aaron had said.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You sheepishly introduce yourself, giving the table a small wave. Your head follows around the table as everyone introduces themselves. JJ, Will, Henry, Michael, Spencer, Luke, Emily, Matt, Kristy, and Krystall. After introductions, you all were sent into a fit of laughter as Jack rushes in to greet Henry. They take off quickly, going to get into something (that you know is definitely your brownies).

It doesn’t take long for Aaron and Rossi to join you at the table, allowing dinner to start. After introductions, the conversation flowed naturally. You passed around different pastas and sauces, which all tasted delicious, and sipped on expensive wines.

Aaron was quite tipsy, having not had alcohol in quite a bit. His hand was comfortably on your thigh as everyone relaxed before dessert. His body weight was leaning into you, but you were not complaining at all. You all sat there for a while, just chatting. It wasn’t until Jack reappeared at your side, whispering, “Can we have dessert now?” With a chuckle you rose from your chair to go cut the cake.

You loaded desserts up, moving them from the trays you’d brought them in to platters Rossi had left out for you. Jack helped you carry them in, with Henry following closely behind with a stack of small dessert plates and a cup of small forks. “Ooooooh!” Luke cooed as you arrived in the dining room. Everyone dipped into their favorites, earning you tons of praise.

“You’re pretty when you blush,” Aaron slurred in your ear as everyone ate. “Thank you,” You replied, sheepishly, not used to him complimenting you in public. “I’m gonna make you blush more later,” He lowered his voice, once again returning his hand to your thigh. He moved it higher up as he continued, “When it’s just you and me.”

“Just us?” You asked, knowing Jack was supposed to be going home with you. As much as you wanted to enjoy his drunken attempts at dirty talk, you were nervous about the people around and focusing on the technicalities. Aaron’s face was practically in your neck as he answered, “Mhm, Jack’s going to JJ’s. Just gonna be us tonight.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he returned to an upright position.

“Everyone full?” Rossi asked after clearing the table of empty plates. Everyone let out an exaggerated sound of agreement, with Matt’s “Yes, Sir,” sticking out amongst the crowd. Rossi moved to light his fireplace, and then reached for a deck of cards.

That’s how the night ended, with different card games and bets made, lit up by Rossi’s fireplace. It was a nice time, and gave Aaron time to sober up quite a bit.

“Night, Hotch,” Emily called as you two walked out the door. You had been dismissed with hugs and promises of a girls night, so Aaron’s goodbyes paled in comparison. Aaron opened the passenger side door for you before claiming his spot in the driver’s seat. “You had a good night?” He asked as he buckled up and returned his hand to your thigh, for probably the thousandth time tonight. “I did, but you better get my brownie pan back from Dave. That’s my nice one,” You teased. Aaron smiled, “I will, I will.”

The drive was peaceful, with Christmas music filling the car and Aaron rubbing soft circles on your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder if Aaron recalled the promise he’d made to you when he was much drunker than he is now. You could feel your panties getting wetter as you thought about it, his touch doing nothing but fueling the dirty thoughts in your brain.

“You need to run over and grab anything?” With your houses being so close, you didn’t have much stuff at Aaron’s house. You usually opted for his clothes anyways, so you gave him a nod, and marched into his home. Aaron followed closely, resting his hand on your hip as he reached from behind you to insert his key. You held the door for him as you walked in.

You had hardly gotten your shoes off before Aaron’s hands were back on your hips. He pulled you close, holding you up against his torso. “You looked so pretty,” He murmured, moving to press hard kisses into your neck, “In your dress.”

You turned yourself around so you could wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him on his lips. “And you looked quite handsome,” You gushed, emphasizing the statement with a kiss to his cheek. It wasn’t very often that you were the one who got to love on Aaron, so you took your chances when he let you. 

You stepped away, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the bedroom. You sat him down on the edge before moving to straddle him. You could feel his hardened cock against your wet core. His hands wrapped around your waist, once again pulling you close. Aaron kissed you with a fervor, showcasing all of the love he held for you. It was slow, your lips slotting together, his hands continually trying to pull you close. It was all he wanted. You. You. You.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, switching you so that you were laying at the top of the bed. His hands moved to pull down your dress and he helped you lift your midsection so he could get it all the way off. That left you in the red bra and white panties you’d chosen. You weren’t planning on having a night like this, but you opted to keep the Christmas spirit as you’d gotten dressed.

Aaron’s eyes looked over you like you were a priceless piece at the museum. You could feel your cheeks heating up under his stare, knowing he had kept his promise from earlier. “Merry Christmas,” You whispered, wanting to break the ever growing tension in the room. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.” He whispered back as he moved to press kisses to your chest. He sucked and licked across your chest, stopping to toy with each of your nipples, before peppering kisses down your stomach. Aaron laid himself between your legs, then reached up to pull down your panties. He hesitated for just a second to make eye contact with you, waiting for a nod of permission.

After you granted it, his hands more quick to slide your underwear down your legs, discarding it somewhere in the room. Aaron’s large hands rubbed up each leg as his mouth made contact with your center. He laid his tongue flat, licking a broad stripe up you, collecting as much of your wetness as he could. “Always taste so good,” He pulled away for just a second to mumble. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself.

His tongue moved skillfully, tracing through your folds and stopping to circle your clit. Your hands were latched in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. Aaron took this as further encouragement, moving his right hand from your thigh to your pussy, collecting your juices before pushing in just a single finger.

He pumped it in and out at a steady pace as he drew circles on your clit with his tongue. You could feel your body start to tighten, getting closer to your release. “Aaron!” You whined, tugging on his hair again, “Need more!” He complied, inserting another finger and increasing his speed of both his hand and his tongue. You yanked at his hair again, eliciting a groan from him. The vibration felt so good on your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to orgasm.

Aaron inserted one more finger, giving you a slight burn with the stretch of his wide digits. You came on his tongue and around his finger with a loud moan of his name. He didn’t stop, continuing to pump three fingers into you. His mouth pulled away, because he did not want to overstimulate you too much, and he wanted to see your pretty face as you came down from your high.

He was painfully hard, pushing his waist into the bed desperate for some kind of friction as he watched you. He didn’t pull away until you froze, letting out deep breaths from your orgasm. Aaron moved to lay next to you, pressing a kiss just above your ear. It was quiet for a few moments.

That was broken when Aaron slurred a, “Thank you,” against the top of your head. He sounded drunk again, only it wasn’t from alcohol, no, it was from tasting you on his tongue. “For what?” You replied, rolling over to lay on his chest. “Letting me taste you,” He answered. “You can do that whenever you want.”

Aaron rubbed along your naked body, stopping to finally remove the bra he had accidentally left you in. He was waiting for you to initiate the next round, knowing you wanted a moment to come down before he was bringing you to orgasm again. He knew you were ready when you began sucking harsh marks into his collar bones. It was an intentional placement, one that no one could see.

You slid your teeth across his bone, giving him a delicious burning feeling. He moaned at the pain. “Wanna ride you but you made my legs tired,” You pouted, jutting your bottom lip out to defend your point. He laughed, “You can always do that tomorrow.” Your pout was replaced with a smile as you nodded at him.

Aaron stood for just a moment to remove the clothes he had on. As he climbed back in the bed he guided you to lay on your back, before climbing on top. He didn’t make you do any work as he inserted himself into you.

“So wet,” He mumbled. “All for you,” You sweetly replied. His movements started off slow, allowing you to adjust to his thick dick. The burn from earlier was back as he stretched you again, but it hurt in all the right ways. “More,” You whined, again, needing to feel him deeper in you. Aaron sped up his thrusts, and buried his head in your shoulder. He focused on pressing kisses there so he wouldn’t finish so quickly. 

He was so riled up. You had him half-hard before you’d even left the house, dressed up in your pretty dress and carrying sweet desserts you’d made for him and his team. All he could think about while he ate dinner was how he wanted to be devouring you instead.

“Fuck,” He moaned as he moved to hold himself up on his elbows. You weren’t sure what he was thinking about, but he was fucking you hard now. The bed shook as he drove himself into you, banging against the wall. “Looked so fucking pretty today,” He whined, drawing out the word ‘pretty’.

Aaron kept a steady rhythm, showering you in compliments and emphasizing each of them with a hard push of his cock. You were a mess of moans under him, puttering out whines of his name. His left hand slid down the expanse of your body to stop on your thigh, hiking it up to his hip. You could feel him so much deeper at this angle. “Gonna come on my cock now, honey?” He ushered, feeling your walls tighten around him.

All you could do was whine out a “mhm”, too preoccupied with the addicting feeling of him dragging his dick in and out of you to string together coherent sentences. He murmured encouragements in your ear, trying to get you there before he found his own release.

His wish was granted as you dug your nails into his back, holding on as you reached your orgasm. You whined his name and squeezed his dick in the perfect way, and he was finishing right after you. Aaron’s thrusts slowed down as he finished.

You held him tight to you, not letting him pull out. His body was basically limp, exhausted after the long day and his wonderful orgasm. You two laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the afterglow. “You okay, baby?” You whispered in his ear. He just nodded against you, not having the energy to answer.

His dick had completely softened by the time he rolled off of you, allowing you to quickly hop in the shower. It was no surprise that he was asleep when you got out. You threw on one of his shirts before climbing in next to you.

You got comfortable, pulling the blanket up to your chin and wiggling next to Aaron. As if it was muscle memory, he wrapped his arm around you. “I love you.” You said, not expecting him to reply. To your surprise, he pressed a sloppy kiss to the back of your head, “I love you, too.”

[captain-hawks]

hi dee, merry christmas eve eve.

if you’re still taking drabble requests, i propose reuniting with famous ex-bf sae at a hometown xmas party

i don’t forgive you (but please don’t hold me to it) 🎀 itoshi sae x f!reader

4k — 18+, exes to lovers, infidelity (not sae x reader’s relationship), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, angst with a hopeful ending, playing fast and loose with sae’s timeline, timeskip

a/n: i listened to phoebe bridgers - punisher (the album) on repeat nonstop while writing this. recommended for the vibes!

“I knew you hated me. But I didn’t realize just how much until tonight.”

A voice interrupts the silence on the back porch of the Itoshi household, its owner someone that you’ve spent the better part of the night avoiding. Your tongue caresses the back of your teeth, fingers subtly tightening their grip against the wooden railing. 

It feels like it might snow.

“Since when do you come back here for Christmas? Did you need to come sign some hometown autographs to boost your ego?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm as you stare out into the dark backyard, rather than turning your gaze to the ghost now standing beside you. 

Itoshi Sae laughs, and the sound cracks against your ribcage like a whip.

It reverberates against the grooves and fissures that still linger there, ones that might as well have been carved by his own hand. It races through you like a cold wind. It makes your lungs burn. 

You find it difficult to breathe for a moment.

And it takes everything in you to appear as unbothered by it all as you wish you were. As you’d like him to believe. 

“I heard from Rin that you’re working on your master’s degree now.”

That’s not any of your goddamn business, you think to yourself. 

“Rin has a big mouth—and since when are you two on speaking terms?”

Sae shrugs, leaving you to stew for a moment as you try to decide whether or not to be annoyed that Rin neglected to share that pertinent bit of information with you.

To be fair, the nearest object usually becomes a projectile weapon by your hand whenever the mention of Rin even having a brother comes up in conversation though. 

At the very least, you’ve stayed close with one of the Itoshi brothers.

And it’s bad enough that you have to dodge Sae’s stupidly famous name like the plague any time you dare to indulge in any piece of football media for Rin’s sake. Fuck him for being so good. 

(At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. Rather than believing the alternative—that you’re just pathetically hyper aware of Sae in his absence, of all the space he left behind in your life. That five years later, you’re still slowly bleeding out from something that shattered into so many pieces, you don’t think you’ll ever find the last sliver.)

Inhaling sharply, you finally turn to face him. 

It’s not fair, not really—what the sight of him still does to you, even now. Even after all this time. 

Sae’s hair is tousled in a purposeful way, and his eyes are still as sharp as ever. He’s wearing sleek boots and fitted, dark wash jeans, his upper half covered by a jacket that’s likely as expensive as it appears.

He looks far better than he has any right to while you’re standing out here wearing a silly, ugly Christmas sweater that’s an annual staple of Itoshi holiday parties (your parents have been neighbors with them since you were a kid, so you know the drill by now). 

You try not to think about how you fell in love for the first time with the man standing five steps away from you here, between this dark backyard and the one nestled beside it. Beneath the shade of towering oak trees, in the plush grass on warm summer days with sticky popsicle fingers and sweat-slick skin. 

About how terribly you missed him when he left for Spain.

How you didn’t fully understand what you felt until he came back to Japan after you graduated high school. 

How you fell in love with him all over again. 

How he kissed you for the first time in this very spot, with one hand on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You remember the way this very railing felt as it pressed into your back, the humid summer air and the buzz of the cicadas and the fireflies that winked in and out of sight around you. 

How you fell a little more in love with him every day over the four years that followed.

And you remember that you were standing here when Sae called you five years ago and told you that he’d cancelled his flight. That he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. 

That he didn’t think things were working anymore.

You couldn’t have disagreed more, but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. 

“Why are you here, Sae?”

He looks out into the darkness beyond in the yard before turning back to you. “Rin said you’re engaged.”

Self-consciously, you tuck the hand adorned with said diamond ring into your pocket. 

Sae’s eyes track the movement. 

“And?”

“That was quick,” he says calmly. 

The anger that rears up inside of you is so quick and sudden, you hardly have a chance to reign it in. 

“We’ve been together for two years. When you know, you know,” you shrug, ignoring the raw feeling at the back of your throat as you push the words out. 

Sae’s quiet for a moment, taking the subtle jab for what it is. “Where is he tonight?”

This time, you don’t hold back. “What, were you hoping to be politely introduced as the reason why I was a fucking emotionally unstable mess when he met me?”

His facial expression flickers. “I’m not going to apologize for not letting you continue to burn yourself out juggling a long distance relationship and a university degree between time zones. For not letting you choose me over your dream internship.”

“So you broke up with me over the phone three days before Christmas and mailed me all of my shit and went radio silent for five years? To show how much you cared about me?”

Sae takes two steps forward, shortening the distance between the two of you with tangible purpose. 

“You would have tried to talk me out of it, to come up with a solution that wouldn’t have worked.”

You nod, voice bordering on a frantic laugh. “So you made the choice for both of us. Because you know best.”

“Do you think I wasn’t hurting?”

Turning away, you wrap your arms around yourself, the cold finally seeping in past the adrenaline pumping through your veins, sinking into your bones in a way that makes you ache. 

“The only thing that could possibly hurt you is football.”

This time, it’s Sae that laughs, but it’s less amused and more self-deprecating now. And without warning, something heavy and warm settles around your shoulders, the musky scent of cologne enveloping you. 

Sae comes to stand in front of you, leaving you wearing his jacket. 

He’s wearing the goddamn stupid, ugly Christmas sweater with a dog on it that you bought for him years ago. 

“You’re wrong,” he says quietly, breath coming out as a white, whispy cloud of condensation. 

You wish you were. 

Ripping off his jacket, you shove it back into his arms before storming back inside, heart on the verge of pounding its way out of your chest and through the slats on the deck to burrow into the dirt below. 

—

You manage to avoid Sae for the next hour or so, mingling amongst other party guests and pointedly ignoring all of the excited chatter about the footballer’s festive homecoming. 

Rin doesn’t push, not in front of everyone, but you can tell by the concerned way he keeps glancing over at you that he’s aware you and Sae have talked. 

It’s only on your way to use the upstairs bathroom, hoping to glean a moment of quiet after your time out on the porch was so spectacularly ruined, that you find yourself distracted. 

There’s a dim light on in Sae’s childhood bedroom. 

And this is where he finds you again, standing frozen in the doorway and staring at the constellations projected on the walls by the small sphere-shaped lamp sitting on the desk in the corner of his room. 

The two of you used to lie on his bedroom floor for hours staring at the stars on his ceiling. 

“Does he make you happy?”

You’re expecting it this time when you hear Sae’s voice.

“Do you feel that’s any of your business?” you ask tiredly. 

He slowly walks past you into the room, sweater and jacket both seemingly discarded downstairs. He’s stripped down to a white t-shirt now, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I made myself let you go so that you could be with someone who would make you as happy as you deserve. I don’t think I deserve your answer, but I’d like to know.”

You curl your toes against the carpet beneath your feet—just like you used to every time a silly teenage confession for him was trembling on the tip of your tongue. 

Your engagement ring feels cool and heavy on your finger. 

You hate him, hate this. Hate this effortless vice grip he still has on your weak heart. 

“You made me happy,” you tell him, voice hardly above a whisper. 

You hate that you know he made the right choice. 

Sae blinks. 

You would have left everything behind for him—school, your career, your future. 

You were content with weekends spent tangled up in hotel rooms between his games, with failed exams and missed assignments and a life spent in suitcases. 

“Aren’t you dating that model?” you blurt out, scrambling for something. Anything. 

He nods but doesn’t offer anything else. 

“Well, why didn’t you bring her here?” It’s a battle to keep your voice steady. 

“I didn’t want to.”

He—

“What, you didn’t want her to see you jealous if I brought my fiancé?” you joke. 

Sae lets out a huff of air—it might be a laugh.

“Something like that,” he responds quietly, gaze shifting to the window.

“Tell me why you’re here,” you say again.

The sound of voices climbing the stairs floats through the open door, and you step further into the room, pushing it closed and locking it behind you before crossing your arms. You’d rather not be interrupted by his drunk aunts. 

“I wanted to know how it would feel.”

You tilt your head. “How what would feel?”

He gestures to your hand, to the new diamond just hardly glinting in the low light. “Seeing a ring on your finger, knowing I didn’t put it there myself.”

The ground beneath your feet feels marginally less solid as your gut churns and your nerves sway. Your teeth sink into your cheek, pain blossoming as you bite down. 

“And?”

Sae runs a hand through his hair. 

“I hate it.” 

It’s blunt and raw, the way the words slide off of his tongue. And he stares at you when it says it, refusing to break eye contact. You take a step toward him, no reasonable explanation for the movement beyond the fucked up magnetism that still pulls you toward this false promise of true north. 

“Why, would you have gotten me something nicer?”

It’s dizzying, this conversation. The way words keep coming out of your mouth unbidden, filling the gaps in years worth of silence. Stroking a bruise, scraping a scar. 

“You hate gold,” he replies evenly, and your hand subconsciously goes to your neck. To where a silver chain sat for years before you finally tore it off and threw it in an envelope marked with Sae’s address. 

His eyes wordlessly track the movement. 

“Do I?”

He steps toward you, closing the dwindling gap further. And you swear you can feel it—a subtle charge in the air. 

Sae nods, reaching out to lightly take your hand in his. He holds it up to inspect. “And this diamond’s too big. Too square. You like small stones, something vintage.”

He’s right. 

You stare at him, all too aware of the familiar feeling of his skin against your own. 

“You sound confident.”

He knows he’s right. 

And he doesn’t falter. “There’s been a ring sitting in a small, velvet box in the back of my closet for five years. I haven’t forgotten what it looks like.”

A—

Words die feebly in your throat as you weakly croak, “—what?”

Sae sits down on the edge of his bed, looking down at his own hands. “I had it all planned out. I was so fucking nervous, it was ridiculous. And then I woke up that morning and realized that I was being selfish trying to tie you down to me permanently.”

He meets your gaze as you stare back at him, dumbfounded. Your knees feel weak.

“You were going to propose?”

Sae nods.

You move to stand in front of him, your socked feet nudging his own. “Did you fly all the way home to finally tell me that?”

He looks up at you. “I don’t know.”

You’re not sure what happens first—the brush of your knees against his own or the spreading of his thighs. But you find yourself between his legs all the same, denim resting against your sheer stockings and the fabric of your skirt.

“What am I supposed to do with this information, Sae?”

His eyes burn through you. 

“Tell me to get rid of the ring. Tell me you want nothing to do with me. Tell me you hate me.”

His words strike like flint against the raw edges of your nerves.

“I hate you,” you tell him, even as you reach out let your fingers ghost along the curve of his jaw.

Sae’s eyes fall shut, and he leans into your touch.

You let your hand slide higher, into the soft locks of his hair. 

His intake of breath is audible.

“I hate that you left me. I hate that you made the choice without me. I hate that you were right, because I never would have come this far in my career, and I never would have gone this far with my education.”

“I’m sorry—” His voice comes out hoarse, and he collapses forward, head pressed against your abdomen.

“I hate that I still love you, even now. Even after all this time.”

Sae’s arms wrap around the backs of your legs even as he mumbles, “Don’t say that.”

You feel like you could catch fire at any moment. 

“Why not?”

He shifts his head, rubbing his face against the bottom edge of your sweater, and the material rides up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. 

“I don’t deserve to hear it.”

You drag your hand to the back of his head, tugging the hair there to tilt his chin upward to meet your gaze once more. Your heart lurches in your chest at the sight before you.

“Probably not, but you decided to kick off honesty hour, so.”

Sae tips his head back downward, his breath hot where his mouth rests against the bare skin above the waist of your skirt.

“I wish you’d tell me not to touch you.”

You shiver. “Should I?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

You don’t answer him as every reasonable part of you goes quiet, drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears and the reckless desire that shamelessly shudders its way down your spine.

“And if I don’t?”

It’s pointed this time, the way Sae’s lips press to your stomach in an open-mouthed kiss. 

Logically, you know this isn’t right—standing here between your ex-boyfriend’s legs in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. Not with an engagement ring on your finger. Not when he’s got a girlfriend waiting on him somewhere. Not when this well should be dry, this bridge should be burned.

The bruise should be gone and the scar should be healed.

But—

But you’ve known him more than half of your life.

And for as much as the past five years have hurt—

For as much as you’ve missed him.

For as much as you’ve wanted to forget him.

For as much as you want to hate him.

—you’ve never regretted anything when it comes to Itoshi Sae.

Not once.

You climb onto the bed, straddling Sae’s lap. He reaches up, pointer finger curling beneath your chin as his thumb presses against the edge of your bottom lip.

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man if you don’t tell me to stop,” he murmurs.

Your pulse quickens, and you part your lips slightly, heat flooding your gut as Sae slides his thumb into your mouth. 

This is a terrible idea.

You flick your tongue against the tip of the digit, and he holds your gaze as he slowly pulls his thumb back out.

“I want you to touch me,” you finally say.

Sae’s other hand, now resting at the base of your spine, slides up your back, stopping once he’s cupping the back of your head. He leans in, forehead resting against your own.

You’re maddeningly aware of every single spot his body is touching yours.

“Say it again.”

You let your nose brush against the side of his as you murmur, “Touch me, Sae.”

It drags all of the air from your lungs—the feeling of Sae’s lips crashing into yours.

His mouth greets you like a long-lost lover, like a dog-eared page. Like worn in soles and the perpetual creak in the step at the bottom of the stairs. 

His lips move with the purpose of car tires down a street you’ve known most of your life. With the muscle memory of feet across a childhood home in the dark. 

Tongue dancing against the seam of your mouth, your lips part for him, desire and longing cresting in equal measure as he grasps your hips and pulls you impossibly closer.

Sae kisses you like he hasn’t kissed you in five years.

He kisses you like no time has passed at all.

He kisses you like he wants to tell you something more between tongues and teeth, between slick saliva and gasping breaths. 

You don’t mean for it to come out so desperate, so needy—the way you breathe out his name when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites and sucks his way to the edge before letting go.

“Sae.”

You hardly have time to register the way the room spins when Sae’s grip on you shifts, your back softly colliding with the mattress as you find him staring down at you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

You shake your head, and he moves backward, pushing up your skirt, spreading your legs and settling down between your thighs. In the meantime, you slip off your sweater and toss it aside. Sae watches you do it, watches the way the tight black tank top you’re wearing underneath clings to your body, the way your peaked nipples sit on display through the fabric of your thin bralette. 

The heat that licks within your abdomen flares white-hot when he drags a thumb against your mound, your stockings already damp from the arousal soaking through your underwear.

There’s a slight tug in the material, followed by a ripping sound.

“Really?”

“There was already a hole.”

“You’re lying.”

Sae shrugs, but he doesn’t look sorry about it. “Yeah.”

You don’t have a chance to give him a hard time about ripping your stockings, not when you’re suddenly met with the feeling of two of his fingers sliding through the slick, creamy folds of your bare, soaked slit. 

“Sae,” you whine.

The bed creaks when you buck your hips upward while he circles his middle finger around the outer edges of your fluttering hole.

“You have to be quiet,” he murmurs, staring at you intently as he slowly slides a finger into your tight channel. 

You try to swallow it down, the moan that dangles at the edges of your lips while the slender digit slips deeper into your cunt. But as you tightly grasp the sheets on either side of you, it’s a lost cause when he pulls it out, only to stuff it back in up to the last knuckle. 

Sae’s mouth closes over yours, tongue sliding in past your lips in a messy, spit soaked kiss. You moan into it as he slowly finger fucks you, one digit becoming two, his thumb stroking your swollen, aching clit with each stroke, with every thrust. 

“Always loved how wet you get for me,” he rasps before capturing your tongue between his lips and sucking on it, the sounds nearly as filthy as the slick, creamy squelch of your cunt around his fingers.

You gasp, spine arching, thighs spreading wider as you rock into his touch, hands stretching downward until they brush the stiff press of Sae’s erection against the zipper of his jeans.

He groans into your mouth before pulling back, murmuring against your lips. “Are you sure—”

You squeeze his cock through his pants in return, kissing him again. 

Sae’s exhale is labored as he extricates his drenched fingers from your pussy just long enough to kick off his jeans and boxer briefs, leaving both in a discarded pile on the floor as he climbs back on top of you.

Your soaked panties and stockings are a lost cause by now, not worth the battle of peeling off, not when the torn hole allows him to rub the leaking head of his cock against your slit all the same. Tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes as stares down at you while he eases his shaft into the grip of your cunt inch by inch, until he’s balls deep and your legs are wrapped around his waist tugging him impossibly deeper. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, one hand splayed at the back of your head, the other sliding up your shirt and beneath your bra to palm at your breasts.

Just the sensation of his thumb stroking its way across one of your pebbled nipples alone has you twitching beneath him, cunt grinding against the base of his shaft. Your muscles tremble with pleasure as Sae pulls out of you, only to rock back in. The room echoes with the wet sounds of your pussy swallowing his cock, the accompanying little moans begging to trickle out past your lips silenced by the two fingers he slides into your mouth in turn.

Because Sae hasn’t forgotten any of the little ways to take you apart, not at all.

There’s no apprehension in the way you shamelessly suck on his fingers, a trail of drool spilling out past your lips and dripping down your chin, the arousal churning between your legs going molten. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs—if for no reason other than the fact that he knows what it’ll do to you.

And the way your pussy clenches down on his cock makes it abundantly clear.

The corner of Sae’s mouth lifts, caught somewhere between a smirk and a rueful smile. It’s the satisfaction that he still knows you, that this is more than just muscle memory. 

He knows you like the stars know the night sky.

Like the shore knows the tide.

He kisses you again, languid and deep. Like this means so much more than a quick fuck on a cold December night caught in the throes of the liminal space of his childhood bedroom.

Like this means so much more than finally ending it where it all began.

“I love you,” Sae gasps against your lips as he thrusts into you.

The coil wrapped tightly in your gut unfurls, rapid and quick, and a scorching wave of pleasure washes over you as your cunt spasms and contracts around his length.

“I love you, too,” you choke out, bordering on a sob, and Sae’s fingers brush away the tear that slips down your cheek as he fucks you through your climax.

You can feel when he’s on the verge of pulling out, and you shake your head. His lips crash back into yours with a rough groan as his cock pulses inside of you, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum deep in your cunt.

Sae eventually collapses beside you, rather than climbing off of the bed, and he pulls you to his chest. You lie there like that for a moment before slowly sitting up, and he watches you quietly as you raise both hands, grasping your occupied ring finger. The sound of metal clinking against wood echoes in the silence of Sae’s bedroom as you turn to the nightstand before laying back down beside him.

He takes your now-empty hand in his, pressing his lips to the heel of your palm. 

Like the shore knows the tide.

[rufflebuttercup]

drunk words are sober thoughts | spencer reid

summary: spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why. it can't be anything bad, right?

a/n: if i had a nickel for every time my reader got drunk and confessed their feelings for spencer, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day! <3 requests are open!

note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mention of alcohol, reader gets quite drunk, drunk confessions and kisses

word count: 3,422

Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto your head as you weaved with purpose through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, creating a cosmic-sized splash that effectively soaked you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico. 

After a long, strenuous day at work, you had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch, and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was being neglected in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d hopped onto a train and you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. 

Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. Or anyone, for that matter. Spencer was the type to get sassy and downright passive aggressive whenever he was mad at someone - you’d witnessed that first-hand early on in your friendship, and it had practically scarred you for life. This was different, though, and the silence seemed to be much more painful. You’d tried to speak to him multiple times throughout the day, but he’d managed to evade you, and he’d barely even made eye contact with you for more than a millisecond. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, but your overthinking, people-pleasing tendencies were starting to rear their ugly head. 

Another car splashed through the puddles at such a breakneck speed that you ended up getting completely soaked. You immediately began to grumble, and your shoes made a squeaky sound as you continued trudging down the street, “Spencer, I am going to kill you.”

Eventually, you found yourself outside of Spencer’s apartment. You crossed your eyes as you watched a water droplet drip from the tip of your nose. You were cold, and damp, and you were very much aware that you were leaving puddles on the carpet. You shuffled in place in the hopes that you didn’t soak one particular spot too much. You knocked on the door, and then you waited, and then you waited some more. You were beginning to wonder if he was even home at all.

Eventually, there was a shuffling noise on the other side of the door, and then you heard a lock being slid out of place. The door cracked open, and Spencer’s head popped out. His eyes widened slightly as he saw you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you shook your head free of water droplets, making yourself look like a wet dog, “Can I come in?”

Spencer hesitated, and his eyes flickered up and down your figure. For a moment, you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, “Yeah. Come in,” he spoke after a pause, and he shuffled aside, “You must be freezing.”

You nodded at him in gratitude, and you slid past him, “Yeah,” you laughed a little, your teeth chattering. Spencer’s apartment was warm and cozy with the heating system on full blast, a stark contrast to the miserable conditions outside, “You could say that.”

“Hang on. Let me just…” Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of his apartment that you assumed was his bedroom. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with one of his thread-worn sweaters, “Here.”

You took the sweater from him, and you slipped it over your head. It was big on you. Far too big, actually. But it was warm. That was all you cared about, “Thanks, Spence.”

A silence fell over the two of you. An uncomfortable one. Spencer’s eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to focus on anything except for you, “So…”

You immediately cut him off, “I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?”

“What?” Spencer started a little at your question, “Of course, you haven’t. Why would you…”

A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over you, and you fiddled with the hem of the sweater, “You know you can always tell me if I’ve done something wrong,” you began to ramble. It was a trademark you had whenever you were slightly nervous, “I don’t mind. I won’t get mad, or offended, or…”

“Hey. Stop,” it was Spencer’s turn to cut you off, “Why would you think you’ve done anything wrong?”

You sighed, and you ran a hand through your wet hair, “Spence, you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

ꨄ︎

You triumphantly clutched the two movie tickets in your balled up fist, “I did it!”

Derek’s eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, “Great. What did you do?”

“I got the tickets! I waited all morning for these!” you excitedly shoved them into Derek’s face, almost punching him straight in the nose, “Look!”

“Yeah, I know what movie tickets are,” he swatted your arm away, “What are they for?”

“Mother!” your voice almost came out as an excited squeal, and it was only after Derek raised an eyebrow at you that you realized how strange your words sounded without context, “It’s a South Korean movie. They’re doing a screening of it later this week at a film festival in New York, and they haven’t translated it yet, so it’s still entirely in the original language.”

“I didn’t know you knew Korean.”

“I don’t. At least, not entirely,” you shrugged, “I’m not exactly conversational, but I can understand bits and pieces. I was talking to Spencer about it the other day, and we both decided we’d go together, and…” you paused, eyes narrowing when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No. What?”

Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, “It’s not my place.”

“That’s quite literally never stopped you before,” you rolled your eyes, “What’s wrong? Do you think it’s a bad idea? I mean, I thought he’d enjoy it.”

Derek hummed in amused agreement, “There’s something he’d enjoy a lot more.”

“Derek. Just…” you were about to respond, but you were interrupted by the chiming of the elevator. Your eyes lit up as Spencer stepped out, “Oh! Spence!” you had to jog to catch up with his quick pace, “Look. I managed to get us those tickets. We can go together!”

“I don’t think I can.”

Spencer’s answer made you falter, and the smile that had been plastered onto your face dropped, “But, I thought you were looking forward to seeing it. I am. It’s not until next week, so…”

“No. It’s fine. You go and see it, though. You’ll enjoy it a lot more on your own, I’m sure.”

You came to a standstill at that, and your mouth hung open as Spencer took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file that he already had waiting, “What was that?”

Derek sidled up to you, “What was what?”

“That,” you waved your hand in Spencer’s direction, “He brushed me off? I didn’t even do anything.”

“Oh, you definitely did,” Derek took another one of those suspicious sips of his coffee, “Quite a lot, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Derek,” you warned him, “You sip that coffee like that one more time and it’s going straight out of the window.”

“Hey! This was expensive.”

ꨄ︎

Spencer’s neck began to turn a shade of pink, and the blush seemed to spread all the way up to the tips of his ears, “I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Don’t deny it Spencer. Please. That makes it worse,” you said, “All day, you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve barely managed to speak two words to you without you escaping into the next room.”

Spencer shuffled a little on the spot, avoiding your eyes, “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you did,” with a sigh, you dramatically flopped onto his couch, “I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather you get all passive aggressive with me like you usually do when you’re mad at someone. At least then I’d know that I’d done something wrong.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’ve obviously done something,” you shot back at him, “You never ignore anyone. Least of all, me. It’s like you suddenly hate me.”

“Hate you? I could never…” Spencer trailed off, and he sat down on the couch beside you. There was an undeniable gap between the two of you that you hated, “You really don’t know what you did, do you?”

“If I did, do you think I’d be here?”

Spencer sighed, “The other night, when we all went out after work,” he started, his tone almost hesitant, “What do you remember?” 

“We went to O'Keeffe's, and Prentiss got us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up on the spot, and…” you froze, “Oh. Oh no,” you groaned, “Please don’t tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set.”

The corners of Spencer’s lips twitched into a smirk at that, “It was quite good, actually,” he bit back a laugh, “Some interesting choreography, too.”

You groaned again, and you sank into the couch cushions as you buried your face in your hands, “This is the worst day of my life.”

“That’s it? You don’t remember anything else?”

“No,” you shook your head, peeking at him through your fingers, “What else did I do? Drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?” your brow furrowed at Spencer’s hesitation, “Spence…”

“You kissed me.”

“What?!”

ꨄ︎

Spencer and Derek were standing out on the busy street, occasionally glancing at the door to O'Keeffe's. The music from inside was still blaring, even though it was 2.am. Most of the team had gone home for the night, leaving only the select few stragglers behind. 

The door to the bar slammed open, and Spencer and Derek immediately looked in the general direction. Derek snorted out a laugh, and Spencer chuckled, “Do you think they’re going to be alright?”

Meanwhile, at the door, you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street. You had your arms thrown around each other, and it was clear that the two of you were struggling to stay standing. You were both the lightweights of the team, “I love you so much, Pen.”

“I love you, too, my sweet angel,” Penelope let go of you momentarily so she could grab your shoulders and shake you, “You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world.”

It was at that moment - the moment where Penelope’s voice got a little too high-pitched and squeaky - that Derek stepped in, “Alright. Let’s pack it up,” he slid in between the two of you, “I think we best get you two home,” it wasn’t a question.

“And you,” Penelope whirled on Derek, prodding him in the chest with her index finger, “You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen,” she cupped his cheeks, squishing them together, “Look at you. You… You magnificent Green god of a man.”

“Mr. Magnificent,” you followed up with a giggle, puffing out your chest and putting on your best impression of Derek, “Look out. Here comes Mr. Magnificent. Watch your doors.”

“Okay. Alright. As much as I’m loving this conversation we’re having,” he took hold of Penelope’s shoulders and firmly began steering her down the street, “You need to go home.”

“Speak soon, my love,” you blew a kiss in the general direction that Derek and Penelope had gone off in, and then you turned to Spencer, “Let’s go!” you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.

“Woah! Hey!” Spencer ran to catch up with you, “You’re not going home on your own.”

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes, and you grabbed Spencer’s wrist, “You’re coming with me, you silly genius.”

Spencer let out a yelp as you dragged him down the street. He had to apologize profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, “Slow down,” he called out, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

You paused at that, and you pursed your lips as you tried to string together a coherent thought, “This way!” you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not,” you tried to march off once more, but you stopped a few steps away and swiveled on your heel, “Oh.”

Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, “Told you. You’re…”

“We’re going the wrong way!”

“We?!”

For a long moment, you and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence. The only sound came from you as you hummed a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from O'Keeffe's, and you usually could’ve walked the distance in two minutes. It took you close to ten considering how often you decided to stop and take notice of every little thing that caught your eye. 

At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind that, though. Your skin tingled as he squeezed your hand, and it made you giggle. You always were the type to get too giggly and hyper when you’d had too much to drink.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, grumbling in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered on the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s broken.”

“I know it’s broken.”

You collapsed onto the stairs with a soft thud. Your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”

Spencer sighed and turned to you, another one of those amused smiles lighting up his face as he saw you staring at the ceiling - even though you were staring at absolutely nothing, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”

“I will be if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”

“Tenth.”

“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he pulled you to your feet as he began guiding you up the stairs almost one step at a time, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, tugging on his hand, “No. No. I have a secret.”

If you weren’t being so cute, then Spencer would’ve been exasperated by this point. You clearly needed your bed, and he so desperately wanted his, “What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” you giggled, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”

“Fine,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer, “Can you tell me now?”

“No,” you grabbed his jacket, tugging him so close that his face was right against yours, “There. Close enough,” you giggled once more, and you leaned in so close that your lips were almost on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure, unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” it wasn’t often that you saw Spencer at a loss for words, “You want to kiss me?!”

You hummed in response, and you clapped your hands excitedly, “Yeah! Can I kiss you?” you asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet, “Because I really want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It made you laugh harder than you already were, “I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of delight, “Yeah. Okay. You can kiss me.”

The next noise out of your mouth was a squeal, “Yay!” you barely gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. You felt fireworks exploding in your mind, but you weren’t entirely sure if they were because of the kiss or the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the best moments of your life.

After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”

“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again? Pretty please?”

Your plea got a genuine laugh out of Spencer. He was half-tempted to kiss you again, but he shook his head, “No. We’re waiting until you’re sober before we do that again,” he took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”

“No fair. I hate hangovers,” you whined. You were interrupted when you tripped on the stairs and almost face planted right into the carpet. It was pure luck Spencer caught you before you did, “Ow. Who put that there?”

ꨄ︎

“Oh my God,” all you could really do was stare at Spencer with your mouth wide open. It was a wonder your face wasn’t burning, “Spence, I…” everything made so much sense - the strange glances, the teasing comments, all of it - “I am so sorry. I…”

“No. No. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through your tone. He closed the distance between you, too, which you appreciated. At least he didn’t hate you, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind.”

You thought you’d finally managed to get over the first wave of shock, but then it all hit you once again, “You didn’t?”

From the moment you’d first walked into the BAU on your very first day, you’d fancied Spencer more than you’d ever fancied anyone ever before. You couldn’t explain it. Then, as your working relationship turned into an actual outside-of-work friendship, you decided it was easier to keep quiet about your feelings for him than risk ruining the good relationship that the two of you already had. 

“But… But I was drunk, and…”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow up at that, “Are you saying you didn’t mean it?”

“No. Of course, I meant it,” you corrected him, immediately faltering when you saw that smug smirk on his face, “Shut up,” it was hard to act annoyed when the goofiest grin imaginable was taking over your face, “I didn’t think you’d actually kiss me.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well. You were pretty insistent. It’s hard to say no to you,” he rubbed his shoulder, wincing a little, “I’m pretty sure you almost broke my shoulder after you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”

At that, you sunk as far as you could into the couch cushions as if you were willing to disappear into them, “I hate you,” you attempted to weakly swat at him.”

“Your drunk self says otherwise,” Spencer laughed, deflecting your swat and catching your hand instead, “To be honest, if you hadn’t lost every single one of your inhibitions that night, I’m pretty sure we’d still be calling this a friendship.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Oh? Is that not what this is?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer countered, “Do you usually go around kissing your best friends?”

“Personally, no. But I don’t judge, so…” you trailed off, and your eyes flitted to Spencer’s lips for a brief second, “So, if I clearly didn’t mind, and you didn’t mind, then does that mean I get to kiss you again? Sober, this time, obviously.”

"Yeah. I suppose that’s exactly what this means,” Spencer scooted a little closer, and now the gap between the two of you was non-existent, “It’s good to know that you’ll actually remember this one.”

You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine, and you definitely felt it, too, “Yeah. Me too. I can’t believe I don’t even remember our first kiss,” Spencer was about to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest to stop him, “You’re definitely not mad at me, though, right?”

Spencer chuckled, and he shook his head, “You’re impossible. Of course, I’m not mad.”

“Good. Just checking,” you took your hand off his chest, instead choosing to place it on his hip, “You can kiss me now.”