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greengoblinswifey · 1 day ago

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Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.

warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)

You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.

Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.

The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.

As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.

Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.

With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.

As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.

You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.

You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.

But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.

The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.

“Hey baby— oh shit.”

His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.

“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.

Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”

With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.

The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.

As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.

“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.

You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.

“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.

“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.

Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”

With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.

“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.

Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.

With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.

He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”

“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.

“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”

You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”

“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”

With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.

Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.

“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.

You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”

You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”

“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”

With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.

He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.

“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”

The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”

He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.

With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”

You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.

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lemonlover1110 · 2 days ago

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𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] The Grand Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Summary: Toji has been stressing about this for the past week. He needs it to be perfect. He wants to tell his grandchildren about how grandpa was romantic and thoughtful once upon a time- He wants to set the standard high for them. Grandpa loves grandma like no other.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff

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“Does my tie look okay?” Toji feels ridiculous asking the question to his four-year-old but today is a very special occasion. It’s one of the most important days in Toji’s life, and he can trust that his son will tell him the truth.

“You’re too tall.” Megumi can’t reach all the way up to the tie, so Toji picks the little guy up and puts him on the bed. Megumi gets his grubby little hands on the tie and fixes it. He crooks his father’s tie, even though it was perfectly fine before– In Megumi’s eyes it looks perfect, which is what matters. Toji’s too nervous to even notice it, blindly accepting the judgment from Megumi.

“I think I’m ready.” Toji says, until Megumi’s hand rubs against the stubble on his face. Toji sighs, feeling pathetic for the way he acts tonight. “Okay, I have to shave.”

“Yeah, you don’t want her to say no.” Megumi responds, sitting down on the bed as his father walks away.

Toji is taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm down. He’s nervous, a feeling that rarely comes to Toji but when it does, it’s bad; it consumes him as a whole. He’s proposing to you tonight. After a year of dating, Toji decided that it’s time.

A year is not a long time by any means, but Toji just knows that you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. It’s undeniable, after all, it’s destiny. He just knows that you’re the woman he’s supposed to be with, and he doesn’t want to waste another minute.

Maybe it’s too soon, and he should hold off on the question. You’ve barely talked about marriage anyway, you’ve just talked about the fact that you do want to get married eventually. He can’t back down now, he already spent money on the proposal so he’ll try at the very least.

His hands are shaky as he puts the shaving cream on his face… He’s done this before, why does he feel so nervous? Granted, last time he proposed to a woman it was a spur of the moment decision, not a very detailed plan. He didn’t have time to think about it and back down like he does now.

“Am I coming with you?” Megumi barges into the bathroom, and Toji nearly cuts himself, startled by the little one.

“You’re staying with a friend.” Toji answers, and Megumi pouts. He wants to be included, not stay behind and hear about the spectacular night you and his father had. Why can’t he be included?

“I’m more fun than you.” Megumi says, and Toji laughs. There’s no doubt in Toji’s mind, but this doesn’t require Megumi and his way of providing entertainment. “I’m not going to bother you.”

“You still have to stay behind, Megumi.” Toji responds, and the child pouts. Megumi stomps away, and Toji rolls his eyes. What a dramatic child. “You’re going to have fun! Don’t throw a tantrum.”

Megumi somewhat helps Toji calm down his nerves. At least he gets a laugh out of the child’s attitude. Toji swears the child doesn’t get the attitude from him.

“Are you ready to go, Megumi?” Toji yells as he pats his face dry. He shouldn’t be asking the question when he’s not even close to being ready, but it’s easier to focus on someone else when you’re in Toji’s shoes. There’s no response which can only be one thing: Megumi’s too mad at Toji to care.

Toji walks out of the bathroom to get the rest of his shit together. He’s running behind, he promised he’d be at your door at seven but he’s going to be at least ten minutes late. He feels like he’s lost his head– Oh, he’s praying you accept because there’s no way he can propose again. He absolutely hates this feeling, he has no idea where to go and which step he should take next.

“I promise I’ll behave.” Megumi is following behind Toji, trying to convince his father to let him go. He just wants to be a part of this very special night, not be left behind with some loser. Toji ignores the child that follows behind like a lost puppy.

“Where’s my cologne?” Toji mutters, running around trying to find it. He’s lost his head. It’s not where it usually is which leads him to believe that the little bug that keeps pestering him is hiding items. He could go without it, but you often mention how he smells so good that you could just eat him. He’s trying to get everything in his favor tonight, so he can’t go off without the cologne. “Where did you put it, Megumi?”

“I don’t have it.” He claims, but one swift look at the child tells Toji all he needs to know. Toji begins to walk to the child’s bedroom, and the moment he steps into the room he notices a plushie that’s out of place. He moves it to the side to find his cologne and as well as the ring box.

“Megumi, what did I tell you about lying?” Toji sternly speaks, looking at the child that’s less than half his size. Megumi looks at his feet in shame, not because he feels bad but because he’s been caught.

“To only do it when it helps you.” Megumi responds, barely audible for the man. Toji doesn’t care to discipline the child too much, he’s running out of time. He’ll deal with Megumi later.

“I have to get going.” Toji looks at his watch, realizing that he should be out the door by this time. But he can’t leave Megumi alone at home, and Megumi isn’t ready yet. “Megumi, if you aren’t ready within the next five minutes, I’m leaving you home alone.”

“Okay…” He hates the hint of attitude that’s in Megumi’s voice. The child couldn’t care less. He doesn’t take Toji seriously, and Toji can’t stand it.

“You know what happens when a child your age is left home alone?” Instilling fear will surely work. Toji is fighting back a smirk when Megumi shakes his head. “A big ugly monster comes and takes them.”

“Uglier than you?” Megumi says, which makes Toji sigh. Perhaps he should be offended, but he’s used to Megumi’s mouthiness at this point. It’s just another night for Toji.

“Yeah, uglier than me and meaner as well. Now get ready.” Toji responds, though his tactic is not working. Megumi is unbothered, and Toji can’t afford to waste another second. It’s fine, Megumi isn’t really doing much, so he’ll be fine in pajamas.

“We’re leaving.” Toji picks the child up and carries him to the car. Megumi is kicking his feet, trying to break free from his father’s grip– To no avail, Toji is much stronger than Megumi. “Any chance you had of coming with me perished.”

“What does that mean?” Megumi asks while kicking his feet in the air. “Let me get my toys!”

“No, you made your choice. You wanted to be a brat, and now you’re going to Gojo’s place in your pajamas, with no shoes and no toys.” Toji feels a twinge of empathy for the child but he’s too irritated to let Megumi go back inside. Toji is running late, and tonight he wants you to have no doubts about him. He’s the perfect man for you, he has to showcase that in every possible way.

“I’m gonna run away!” Megumi yells, though he can’t do much when Toji holds him. Toji rolls his eyes. He knows that the neighbors hear how his child yells from the top of his lungs, but they know Megumi is a tad bit overdramatic.

“Right before your fifth birthday? Please do me the favor so I can sell your gift.” Toji responds which instantly calms Megumi down. That threat works like a charm, perhaps he should’ve led with that. “Gojo better tell me that you were an angel or else.”

“I’ll behave!” Megumi claims, needing his birthday gifts to be safe.

That was all it took for Megumi to behave for the rest of the night.

Toji’s hands are sweaty as he knocks on your door. His heart is about to beat out of his chest… All for what, a marriage proposal? Toji, a man that’s conquered many hearts because of how charming (and manipulative) he can be when he sets his heart on something. This shouldn’t be hard, he shouldn’t be nervous.

“Toji!” You exclaim as you open the door, looking as beautiful as ever tonight. He’s about to crap himself, he can’t propose. Your hands meet behind his neck before bringing him down to peck his lips. Your nose goes to the crook of his neck, and just as he expected, you tell him, “You smell so good, I could eat you.”

“I’m not opposed to that.” Toji chuckles as you press a subtle kiss on his neck. He pulls you into his embrace, hands resting on the small of your back. “You’re looking stunning tonight.”

“When am I not?” You reply with a laugh. You close the door behind you, and intertwine your arm with his before walking out. “Where are you taking me tonight, big boy?”

“It’s a surprise.” He tells you, and you squint as you look at him. Something is up with him, Toji doesn’t do surprises. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“What’s up with you?” You question, and you swear you see his cheeks turn pink. But Toji? That’s unlikely, your eyes must be deceiving you. You look away, knowing there’s no possibility that your boyfriend is blushing.

“There’s nothing up with me. Jumping to conclusions already?” He tries to play it off, which gives it away. There’s something up with him, and you’re going to figure it out.

“How’s Megumi?” You ask him, and Toji can say a lot but he decides on sighing. That’s all he needs to say, you know that the little guy can be stubborn. “What did he do this time?”

“Wanted to join our date.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh as well. You’d let the child join, you’re always happy to have Megumi with you… But Toji knows best. And you do appreciate not having to watch your mouth and being able to be as affectionate as you want to be with Toji.

“Poor little guy, you should’ve let him join.” You’re clearly joking, but Toji can’t help but roll his eyes. Megumi is such a cockblock that he should be studied by scientists, it should be impossible. Luckily he got rid of the child for the night.

“Can’t thank Satoru enough for taking him off my hands tonight.” Toji says, and you’re fighting back on smiling as you think about what tonight has in store for you. It’s going to be fun, that’s what you can gather from this.

“I’ll thank Satoru if you make tonight worth it.” You wink at him, and he should make some sort of remark that’ll make you chuckle, but he feels as if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He’s going to do it. He’s going to propose…

“Yeah…” He lets out an awkward laugh. You get to his car, and he opens the passenger door for you. You kiss his cheek, muttering a thank you before getting into his car. He takes a deep breath as he shuts the car door, muttering, “Tonight is going to be unforgettable.”

“Woah… This place is…” You’re sitting across from Toji, holding the menu in your hands and staring at the high prices. Toji has never taken you to a place this expensive before, and it makes you wonder what he has up his sleeve. “Nice.”

“Yeah, I want tonight to be spec– Nice.” He corrects himself before he gives it away. And then it hits you. Perhaps you should’ve known the moment he took you to a place where there is valet parking, but what matters is that now you know.

You thought it was next month, but apparently it’s tonight since Toji is going above and beyond. Your second year anniversary with Toji. Many questions pop into your head as you try to figure out how you’ve forgotten this very special night… And how did Toji even remember?

“Happy anniversary.” You smile, trying to play it off. It totally hadn’t slipped your mind. Toji looks puzzled as if he’s trying to figure something out. Your mind lands on his gift. A non-existent gift that you very obviously do not carry with you. You decide to lie, “I do have a gift for you, but it’s back at my place.”

“Happy anniversary.” He’s forcing himself to smile. He forgot that? How did he forget it? He had it marked on his calendar but guesses with being in a rush about a proposal and whatnot made it slip his mind. “I do have a gift for you as well.”

“What is it?” Your interest is piqued, and you really don’t want to wait till later to find out. You’re not as patient as you claim to be.

“What’s your gift?” Toji responds, and you roll your eyes. You haven’t figured it out yet, therefore you can’t give him a response.

“Fine, leave me guessing.” There’s a hint of attitude in your tone, something that Toji doesn’t care enough to fix. He has bigger issues right now. “What can I order? I know you’re not made of money.”

“That’s kind of rude.” Toji points out, holding back on laughing. You aren’t wrong though, but tonight is special. He wouldn’t take you to a place he couldn’t afford. “I brought you here because I can afford it. Order the whole menu if you want.”

“Really?” You raise a brow his way, and Toji clicks his tongue. He puts his hands up defensively before saying,

“You got me. Don’t order the whole menu, I don’t have that kind of money.” He laughs, and you chuckle.

“Thank you for bringing me here, dear. This is a very lovely place.” You reach over, and take his hands into yours. You feel just how sweaty his palms are, and you wonder why. It’s definitely not hot for him to be sweaty. “Toji, are you nervous?”

“Why would I– You know, I think we should celebrate.” Toji has to do it now, he might die if he waits till dessert. He’ll call over the waiter, and proceed with the plan that he had. He got the idea from some article on the internet, putting the ring in your drink and whatever follows. It’s not particularly romantic but for Toji it’s perfect. Toji’s charming, not romantic.

“Celebrate?” You question before remembering your anniversary. You feel bad for forgetting when he’s clearly put effort into tonight. You can fake it though. “Of course, let’s celebrate.”

Toji flags down the waiter, telling him to bring out champagne. Toji doesn’t drink, but tonight he'll make an exception. You also know he doesn’t drink, which makes you suspicious. Tonight is not an ordinary night.

“Two years already, huh? When are you proposing?” You tease him, and he nearly chokes on his own saliva. His eyes are wide and you feel the need to clarify. “I’m joking, babe. You don’t have to react like that.”

“React like what? I’m fine.” He says, and you’re having a hard time believing him. He’s nervous about something, it’s written all over his face. “You have to stop reading into things.”

“I’m not.” You respond, knowing that there’s something up with Toji. A man that’s usually stoic looks almost nervous. You won’t push him to give you an answer though, that surely won’t work with Toji.

“Finally.” Toji’s eyes glimmer at the sight of the glasses on the table. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak. To give the small speech that he wrote down with Megumi’s crayon. A small speech that he lost because Megumi poured a glass of water on it– But it’s fine, he memorized it.

“Cheers.” You grab the glass in front of you, and clink it with Toji’s. You furrow your brows, noticing that the liquid in Toji’s is shaking. He’s shaking. “Toji, are you okay? Are you cold?”

“They keep the place chilly.” He tries to laugh it off. He’s giving it away. Though he says it’s chilly, he’s sweating. But before you can question it, Toji chugs down his drink. There’s something wrong with him. He prompts you to drink as well, “It’s gonna get warm.”

“I’m not in a rush.” You look at him inquisitively. You love Toji, and you’ve gotten to know him pretty well. But you can’t know what’s going through his mind by merely looking at him. You grab your drink slowly, and bring the glass to your lips before taking a long sip of the champagne. Drinking from a glass has never been as awkward as it is now, feeling Toji’s eyes watching your every move.

“Toji, this is the last time I ask, what the fuck is up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated with him. He’s acting odd, and you wonder if you did something wrong.

“Look at the bottom of the glass.” He instructs you and you frown, grabbing the glass and inspecting the bottom of it. There’s nothing. Perhaps it’s because there’s some liquid, but apart from bubbles you spot nothing.

“What?” You question, and Toji loosens his tie. “Did you see something weird?”

“Is there nothing at the bottom?” Toji asks, and he almost loses his shit when you shake your head. His eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen, and suddenly the man stands up from his chair. He bites down his tongue before saying one simple word, “Bathroom.”

Before you can utter a word, Toji’s gone. What an odd man he is tonight.

Toji looks around the place, trying to find the dumb waiter that he tasked this with. The instructions are very clear, how could he mess that up? Toji’s eyes land on the waiter, and the poor man begins to tremble when he sees Toji’s terrifying glare. A predator has spotted its prey, and the prey is too slow to run away.

Toji grabs the waiter by his collar, dragging him from the kitchen to the back of the restaurant in a matter of seconds. Toji is pinning this twenty-something-year-old against the wall, making the poor man almost cry out to his mommy. Toji feels like he’s doing some shady business again.

“Where the fuck is that ring, boy? You know how much that cost me?! I’ll sell your intestines to make you pay.” Toji threatens; a threat that holds no weight, but sounds so natural as it rolls off Toji’s tongue.

“I-I don’t know, s-sir. I promise I put it in.” The waiter stumbles over his words, absolutely terrified of Toji. It’s a scary scene, specifically with how ravenous Toji looks. Toji’s hungry for blood, and he’s staring at the perfect target.

“Where the fuck is it? That damn ring cost me an arm and a leg.” Toji’s anger couldn’t be more clear than now. It’s absolutely terrifying for any bystander, and of course, the poor man that is pinned against the wall.

“Whose?” The young man is closing his eyes, scared that these moments might be his last. The grip on the collar tightens, Toji getting angrier by the second.

“You want to joke around with me? Is this funny to you?” Toji spits out, and the poor boy frantically shakes his head. Toji finally let’s go, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Get me your fucking manager.”

“Yessir.” The young man responds, body nearly falling to the ground as he struggles to find balance. At least Toji let him go. He’s alive, and he should be grateful.

“That took you long enough.” You chuckle, watching as Toji sits across from you once again. You want to ask if the reason why he was acting weird was because of a stomach bug, but Toji looks mad.

“Must’ve eaten something bad.” Toji mutters, as if upset. Though you understand having a stomach bug is not enjoyable, you don’t particularly understand why he looks mad.

“Do we have to go? Our celebration can wait.” You reassure him, but Toji shakes his head. He sighs.

“We have to celebrate our anniversary.” He responds, but you don’t want him to put his well being at risk to celebrate the date. Your celebration can wait until he gets better. Your hands reach over to grab his own, giving them a squeeze.

“I don’t want you to sit through a celebration while you’re feeling ill.” You watch him avert his gaze. You know he’s upset about this, and you think of how to make him feel better. You chuckle before confessing, “I forgot about our anniversary… I thought this was just going to be one of our usual dates but here you go, going above and beyond. So don’t feel bad if you want to cancel all of our plans, and call it a night. We can just go home, and I’ll make you tea to help your upset stomach.”

“I guess…” Toji is a fool. Putting a ring that expensive in a glass of champagne? For you? That man should’ve carved out your name on a mountain and asked you to marry him at the bare minimum. This place– The proposal and the restaurant is too trashy for what you deserve.

“I have to talk to the manager, will you give me a second?” Toji asks, and you furrow your brows. Was the incident in the bathroom that bad? You won’t question it. You don’t want to embarrass the man.

Toji comes back within five minutes, extending his hand for you to take. Without a doubt, you take it and leave with him. You’ll go anywhere that Toji wants to take you.

“You know–” You begin before shoving a fry into your mouth. Toji decided to take you to eat fast food before going home. Though he’s supposed to be sick, you’re both eating fast food in his car. Luckily he’s parked outside of the place, so in case an emergency does come up, he can run inside. “I’m surprised you remembered our anniversary but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Toji questions, reaching over and taking one of your fries since he already ate all of his. He eats fast– One thing about Toji, he’ll make sure he doesn’t have to share. You glare at his hand, and almost slap it away.

“That I’m the one that’s usually great at remembering dates.” You answer, and Toji tries to recall today’s date. Tonight he just got extremely lucky… In that sense at least. He’s calling it quits on tonight’s plan. He’ll perfect the proposal over the coming weeks. “But you know what they say: a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“Did you just compare me to a broken block?” He’s slightly offended by the question, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes makes him chuckle. As revenge, he reaches over and takes a couple more of your fries.

“Hey! Stop eating all of my food!” You scold him, and he fights back a smirk. He puts on a show of eating your food in front of you, showing off that he’s taken your fries and you can’t do anything about it. “You shouldn’t even be eating this with your stomach.”

“My stomach is fine.” He assures you, but you can’t take him seriously. Toji could be dying on a hospital bed, and he’d still reassure you that he’s completely fine. With how long it took him to come back from the bathroom, you doubt he’s okay.

“Are you sure? Because–”

“What do you think about getting married?” Toji cuts you off, not wanting to talk about an upset stomach or his shitting habits. You can’t help but giggle at the way he changes the conversation, especially from something so ridiculous to a serious matter.

“Why? Are you proposing?” You tease, and Toji rolls his eyes at your reaction. You chuckle before answering truthfully, “I’d love to get married to you someday. Anywhere, any time.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me for life.” Toji tries to joke, but it sounds very serious. He’s joking but at the same time he isn't. Not that you mind being stuck with him for life.

“Hmm… How about we go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married?” You propose and Toji begins to choke on the fry that he stole from you. He quickly grabs the soda and drinks like a wild man, while hitting his chest. You’re worried for a millisecond before you burst out laughing.

Toji coughs up his fry while the sound of your laughter fills up the car. Your hand goes to his back, caressing it as he calms down.

“Glad– That my– Near death experience is funny to you.” He’s still coughing. When he calms down, he’s glaring at you. A glare that many find intimidating. But you find it amusing, knowing Toji isn’t going to do anything.

“Could you imagine? Death by fry? I can’t decide if that’s an amazing or a pathetic way to go.” You say, and Toji rolls his eyes again.

“Fine, let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married.” Toji agrees. It definitely takes the weight of proposing off his shoulders.

You shake your head. “I was joking.”

“Like hell you were. I know how you women are. You’re joking, but you’re actually dropping hints.” He does air quotes, and you glare at him. The difference between you glaring at him, and him glaring at you is that he actually feels a twinge of fear when you look at him badly. He begins to laugh, putting his hands up defensively, “I was just messing around.”

“Like hell you were, punk.” You sound so serious that it scares him. Before he can even defend himself, your hand goes to his bicep and you proceed to lightly pinch him. He cries in pain, and you let go before leaning over to kiss the same spot.

You proceed to apologize in a high pitched voice, “Sowwy for hurting you, baby.”

“Okay, say it again but in a normal voice.” Toji replies, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m only apologizing with the baby voice. Take it or leave it.” You cross your arms, acting as if you have the upper hand in this situation.

“Leave it. I have enough with Megumi.” Toji responds, making you click your tongue.

“Are we picking up the little guy before going home?” You ask, and Toji hums in response. He almost forgot that his offspring is with your best friend for the night.

“Yeah. He’ll kill me if we don’t.”

You hum along to the tune of one of your favorite songs as Toji drives back to Gojo’s place. You tried to joke around with Toji some more, but after the drive started, he stopped paying attention. He looks pensive, and you wonder if it’s the same thoughts that were affecting him earlier.

“Oh, look, it’s raining.” You point out as if Toji hadn’t turned on the windshield wipers. You just want Toji to say something, but he’s suddenly gone mute.

Toji’s thoughts are about Megumi. The little cockblocker is going to spoil his plan. Megumi has kept his mouth shut for a whole week after finding out the plan, Toji knows the little guy isn’t going to hold it for much longer.

“Are you hot?” You ask as Toji lowers the air conditioning. He takes off his suit jacket at the red light, unable to contain the heat. It’s pretty cold out, but he’s acting a little odd tonight.

Before you know it, you’re outside of Satoru’s apartment complex. Your hand goes to the door handle, but before you open it, Toji speaks up, “Stay here. It’s raining.”

“I want to say hi to my little guy.” You say, but Toji shakes his head. He’ll refuse to let you out of the car.

“You’re sleeping over tonight anyway. I can’t protect both of you from the rain, and the last thing I need is you both being whiny babies because of a cold.” Toji responds, and you pout. Toji will let you figure out your own feelings while he goes to pick up Megumi.

“Stupid Toji.” You mutter when the car door shuts. At least he’s doing this to keep you well, but you can’t help but think this has something to do with his weird behavior. You begin to mock him, “You’re sleeping over anyway. Dumbass.”

You begin to turn up the temperature, freezing with the air conditioning on. But you feel a twinge of remorse while you do it, knowing that he’s going to be hot when he gets to the car. You turn the air conditioning down again, opting to take his jacket instead.

You put it on, and begin to feel his pockets. Maybe you’ll find some change… It’s not like Toji is going to notice a few coins missing. What’s his is yours, and what’s yours is yours. However the saying goes. A smirk comes to your lips when you feel something cold, “Bingo.”

“Huh?” Your expression quickly changes, your eyes becoming wide when you see that it’s not a coin. It’s something much more expensive. Something that answers everything. Why he took you to an expensive restaurant, why he was acting so weird, why he suddenly remembered your anniversary (though it hits you that it’s not the date, you assumed wrong).

You stare at it for what feels like forever. It looks like it’ll fit perfectly. You exit the car, not caring that it is drizzling out. You can withstand some water, what you can’t stand is sitting in the car alone with your own thoughts for another second. He’s coming out of the building, holding an umbrella over Megumi’s head.

“What are you doing out?!” Toji yells when he sees you outside of the car, wearing his jacket. He frowns, until he sees you hold something up. He doesn’t have to squint to see what it is, and he begins to freak out immediately. “Snoopy! Why were you going through that?!”

“Megumi, get in the car.” Toji hands the umbrella to the child, a task that Megumi is happy to take over. Toji walks over to you, attempting to snatch the ring out of your hands.

“What is this?” You ask, and Toji refuses to answer, focusing on getting the ring from your hands but you begin to move around. You can’t help but giggle as you watch a very frustrated Toji try to take a ring from you. “You won’t get it back until you answer.”

“Then…” Toji restrains you, grabbing both of your wrists. It’s an awkward position, one arm over your head while you hold the other in front of you. “We won’t move.”

“So much for not getting me sick.” You mention, and you know that he fights back a smile. You look into his eyes, seeing the uncertainty that consumes them. Toji was hoping tonight he’d have the perfect proposal, and when he realized that everything was going south, he backed out. Your heart melts at the thought of your big intimidating boyfriend getting worried because of this.

“Will you give it back?” He’s talking to you as if you were Megumi.

“I do–” You begin. “I’ll hold that for the ceremony.”

“Huh?” Toji lets go of your wrists, and you proceed to place the ring in the palm of his hand. You kiss the tip of his nose before pressing your forehead against his. Toji laughs, relief washing over him. “I didn’t even ask the question.”

“What are you waiting for?” You ask, and Toji pulls away.

He gets on one knee on the wet asphalt, holding the ring that nearly cost him his intestines, with the most genuine smile on his face. His eyes are brimming with love. He had a long sappy speech that he copied off the internet. Something overly romantic. Something disingenuous to his character.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” You nod excitedly, and Toji slips the ring on your finger before getting up from the ground and picking you up. He kisses you once. Then again. And again, and again.

“Eugh!” You both hear that makes the kissing stop. Megumi is waiting for you two to finish to properly greet you– One thing you notice, the umbrella is gone.

Toji sighs. Great, everyone is going to be sick for at least a week.

At least he’s getting married soon.

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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miyukisu · 3 days ago

Text

Better Bite the Bullet .ᐟ

❤︎ | He's just trying to be a good best friend by teaching you a useful skill in life... blowjobs (2k wc) ╰ feat. iwaizumi hajime (hq) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 10 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, childhood bestfriends, Oikawa mention, blowjobs, handjobs, no p in v, p*rn with plot, virgin! reader

minors do not interact

You've known Hajime since you were in diapers, long enough that he had grown indifferent to your antics. He hasn't even looked up once from his phone as you paced tirelessly around his bedroom. You were losing your shit and Hajime was sitting on his bed without a care in the world.

A bright idea came to you in the form of making your footsteps louder in hopes that it would annoy him enough to catch his attention. He clicks his tongue once before narrowing his eyes at your moving form.

But not even a second later, his eyes were back on his phone one again. "What the hell are you even doing?" he asked.

"Pacing around. Isn't it obvious?"

He grumbles, finally turning his phone off and throwing it to the side where it landed on his pillow with a soft thud. "No shit Sherlock. I meant what are you pacing around for? It's annoying."

Finally, you stop in your tracks, facing your childhood best friend with your lower lip between your teeth. You've been dying to tell him what was on your chest an hour ago. But now that you're about to spill the beans to him—you found yourself tripping over your words.

"I guess... um... Oikawa kinda asked me to hang out soon... um..."

Hajime's interest was piqued. Normally he wouldn't give two shits about who Oikawa asked out. But this time it was you. An uneasy feeling brewed in his stomach, like he had drank rancid milk.

"And you're worrying about it like some middle schooler? C'mon you're in college," he deflects. Of course, it was his defense mechanism—to act all tough and harsh with the revelation.

You crossed your arms in defense. "I get that... but it's THE Oikawa Tooru that we're talking about here."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? Is your head not screwed on properly?"

Hajime rolls his eyes. Not only were you about to be whisked away by Oikawa, but you had the gall to act like a total brat right now.

"He's just asking to hang out—what's so amazing about that?"

Truth be told, you hadn't thought this far into what it would be like if you had this conversation with Hajime. You figured you wouldn't have to divulge the second—more embarrassing—part of this whole event.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips. You screwed your eyes shut as if to prepare for the impact of his reaction on what you have to say next.

"A friend of mine told me that when he says something like that... it usually leads to... you know..."

Hajime's eyebrow perked then silence ensued. He knew what you meant, of course. He wasn't born yesterday.

"To what? Fucking?"

Your eyes shot open at his vulgar choice of words. That's exactly what you meant, but you didn't think he'd be so blunt about it. "I mean—if it does get to that... obviously I won't just go all the way with him. I haven't even talked to him that much," you say—backpedaling.

"You won't go all the way, but you'll go somewhere huh?" he pried further. He played it off like he was teasing or, worse yet, mocking. But he wanted to know; he knew his friend's intentions, but he didn't know yours.

You nervously bit your lip again. This was going to be the third revelation of tonight. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that you'd be having his conversation with your childhood best friend.

"Maybe... maybe, yeah... that's what I'm nervous about..."

The uneasy feeling had grown worse. Hajime swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. "Then just don't," he suggests. "You could always just hang out normally."

Another sigh escapes you and you decide to sit beside him—plopping down on the mattress. You ran your fingers through your hair, smoothing out any tangles that had built up.

"I just wanna experience something... you know? I'll only be young and in college once..." you admit. At this point, there was no use in hiding it. Hajime knew every substantial detail anyway.

This time, it was Hajime who sighed. Part of him still felt dread, but another felt pity for you.

"Jeez..."

Hearing his reaction, you felt the urge to stand up and find your bearings. But a warm hand grips your wrist before you could go. You turn to look back and see Hajime's determined expression.

"I'll teach you then."

────────────

Hajime was a 100% sure not a single rational thought was left in either of your heads. Somehow, he thought that if only you touched him and not vice versa—it would be fine. And, somehow, you agreed to it.

You gulped at the sight in front of you, Hajime leaning against the wall on his bed with his dick out of his sweats.

"Well... that's certainly... something..."

"Do you also plan on commenting about his dick when you see it?"

His sarcasm was hardly appreciated right now, especially since you were sure that your nerves would send you into a tailspin.

"No, of course not. I just—fuck, fine. Let's get to it," you say before scooting closer to him.

Carefully, you reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his shaft. Hajime hissed softly, but you were too concentrated to even notice.

Mesmerized, you swiped your thumb over his tip and gave him a soft tug. His jaw was clenched so hard, trying to act like none of this fazed him. But the way you treated him so delicately was arousing in its own way.

You begin stroking him faster. "Is this okay? It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No, but," Hajime pauses before placing his larger hand over yours. "You could do it better though."

He was now guiding you—actually teaching you how to jerk a guy off. Your eyes were fixated on the way both of your hands glided up and down his shaft, slippery from the immense amount of pre.

But his eyes were on your face. Oddly enough, he found it endearing how focused you were at the task on hand (quite literally). He watched every time your face scrunched, how your mouth was a bit agape, and how your eyebrows would quirk up sometimes.

It was cute, he thought.

As soon as you figured out the pace and pressure, he let go of your hand, allowing you free reign over his dick. You felt it twitch. It was most likely a good sign at least. Even better now that he had his eyes closed, head thrown back against the wall.

Maybe this was easier than you thought. Maybe you could do something else. So your hand slows and your eyes trail up to his face. "Hajime."

"What?"

"Can I use my mouth?"

All the air was knocked out of his lungs upon hearing the words that left you. "Huh? What for?"

"No one's gonna be impressed by a handjob. Guys already do it on their own all the time," you reason.

Hajime clicks his tongue. "You don't have to do that kind of thing yet when you're this inexperienced."

He tried staying stern despite the almost pleading look on your face. Hell, he wasn't even sure why he was denying you. He could have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock in a second and here he was—acting like a righteous fool when he doesn't have to be.

Again, he clicks his tongue. But, this time, not because of you. He's annoyed at himself for having no restraint... for having no shame that he's kind of taking advantage of his best friend's naivety.

But to hell with it.

"Okay," he relents. Hajime watches as you get even closer to him. Only then do you feel the nerves consume you once more.

The newfound confidence you had earlier had quickly dissipated as soon as you began leaning down. It didn't help that his natural manly scent was intoxicating. It was warm—you felt it against your face—and it was achingly hard.

You pucker your lips on instinct, accidentally kissing his tip instead. Hajime thought you were doing it on purpose to fuck with him, not realizing that you were tripping out of nervousness.

"Don't be a tease."

"I'm not!" you countered before quickly wrapping your lips around his cock. The warmth of your mouth sent shivers down his spine. But the slight grazing of your teeth on his sensitive shaft made him uncomfortable.

"Ah shit.... less teeth. Gotta hollow out your cheeks a bit."

Your jaw was already hurting. Though it probably had less to do with your skill and more to do with his size. He seemed more manageable with just a hand, but now that you're using your mouth, the task seemed gargantuan now.

But you still try. You do as he says and you feel his entire body relax a bit. It takes a lot of your concentration to make sure your teeth were out of the way and your lips provided enough suction.

That alone had Hajime seeing stars. It wasn't the best blowjob of his life, but seeing that it was your head bobbing up-and-down on his dick was a sensation in and of itself.

After getting used to the basics, you decide to throw in a little bit of tongue action. It caught him by complete surprise and a soft groan spilled from his lips.

Scared that you had hurt him, you were about to lift your head to ask him, but his hand quickly places itself on top of your head. He wasn't rough nor did he forcefully keep your head down.

Instead, he began caressing your hair—starting from the top of your head, going down to smooth your locks. It was his way of reassuring you that he felt fine—amazing even. You were doing a damn good job for someone who hasn't done this before.

Hajime avoided using his voice throughout the whole thing to make it less intimate and more 'educational' if that even made sense. But he understood that you probably needed more reassurance.

"That's it," he started. "You're doing so well... so well for me."

Hajime had filthier things to say otherwise, but again, this was supposed to be 'educational'.

As much as you want to keep up the pace that you built, your jaw was too sore for that. A bit of a break wouldn't hurt, so you retract yourself—tongue lolled out with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. The sight alone would have made him bust, but he kept his composure... somewhat.

"Oh fuck..."

His words spurred you on, however. You settled on suckling his tip while your hand worked on the rest of his length. Having the best of both worlds made his head spin. His leaking tip was the most sensitive it had ever been and the fast pace of your hand made the coil in his stomach tighter and tighter.

Hajime wanted nothing more but to come in your mouth—consider it as payment for him teaching you. His dick began to twitch again like earlier, but this time you noticed the way his abs would tense up. The dampness that had been pooling in your underwear ever since you had his dick in your hand was starting to become distracting. But you pulled through.

"Fuckkk... I'm coming in your mouth," he announced. Thick white ropes of hot cum painted your tongue. The flavor was odd—something you've never tasted before. It made your face contort a bit.

He tried catching his breath after that single mindblowing orgasm. But through his high, he noticed the hesitation on your face. "You don't have to swallow that you—"

But he stops mid-sentence as he watched you gulp down his fresh seed. You've gone this far—might as well.

Hajime swore that he felt his dick twitch back to life, ready for more. He wasn't sure what you did to him. But now he was certain that you absolutely shouldn't do this with anyone but him.

"Fuck... forget about that moron. Have fun with me instead."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Wow... I'm actually kinda proud of this one?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #hq #hq smut #kinktober #kintober 2024 #mksu.ktober 24 #mksu.works

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chuulyssa · 3 days ago

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jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

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mapis-putellas · 3 days ago

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𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕

Pairing: Alexia x you

Words: 1203

Warnings: none I don’t think

Summary: When alexia tears her Acl, your once perfect relationship falls apart.

The moment Alexia went down on the field, clutching her knee, you felt a hollow dread settle in your chest. Her face twisted in pain, teammates rushed to her side, and you could barely breathe as medics swarmed around her, trying to assess the damage. As Alexia was helped off the field, her face pale and tight with pain, you knew, deep down, that this was bad. The way she winced, the way her hand hovered over her knee protectively—it all pointed to the injury you both dreaded: an ACL tear.

The days that followed were a whirlwind. An MRI confirmed what everyone feared—she’d torn her ACL, and recovery would be long, arduous, and mentally draining. Alexia had always been fiercely independent, and the idea of months without being able to play, to train, or even walk without crutches seemed like a punishment. You’d heard stories of ACL recoveries; you knew they could change a person, but you never imagined it would impact Alexia so profoundly.

At first, she tried to hide her pain, and you were patient, doing everything you could to support her. You stayed by her side through every doctor’s appointment, every painful physio session, and every frustratingly slow step forward. But soon, her frustration started spilling over, and it seeped into your relationship.

It started with small things—she’d pull her hand away when you tried to help her, or she’d give curt, dismissive responses when you asked how she was feeling. You thought maybe she needed time to process, so you backed off, giving her space and trying to be as gentle as possible. But over the next few weeks, she withdrew further, snapping at you for the smallest things, her patience evaporating whenever you tried to help.

The Alexia you knew—the Alexia who was soft and affectionate, who’d tease you with a playful glint in her eye and make you feel like the most important person in the world—was nowhere in sight. Instead, she was like a stranger, her walls up and her anger simmering just below the surface.

One evening, you gently suggested she try the exercises the physio had given her. “I know it’s hard, but you’re making progress, Alexia. You’re doing so well.”

She rolled her eyes, letting out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, I don’t feel like I’m doing well, so maybe just… stop, okay?” Her tone was sharp, each word tinged with an anger she couldn’t seem to control.

You tried to stay calm. “I’m only trying to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Maybe I want to do it alone,” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “I don’t need you constantly hovering over me. I’m not some child.”

Her words stung, but you held back, not wanting to escalate things. “I’m not trying to hover. I just love you, and I want to support you. This isn’t easy for either of us, but we can get through it together.”

But she looked away, clenching her jaw. “Maybe I didn’t ask for your help, did I?”

That night, she barely acknowledged you, her gaze fixed somewhere distant, her face set in a hard expression that you barely recognized. It was as though she’d built a wall around herself, one you couldn’t penetrate no matter how hard you tried.

The breaking point came a few nights later, during what started as a simple conversation. You were trying to coax her into doing her knee exercises, knowing how crucial they were to her recovery, but she dismissed you, saying she’d do them later. You gently reminded her that she’d been saying the same thing all week, and that was when the argument erupted.

“Why are you always on my back about this?” she snapped, her voice rising with frustration. “It’s my leg, my life. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You clenched your fists, hurt bubbling up inside you. “Because I care about you, Alexia! You’re pushing everyone away, and you don’t see what it’s doing to us.”

“Oh, so now I’m a burden?” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what, Y/N?” she interrupted, her tone harsh. “Go on, say it. Say you don’t love me.”

You froze, her words cutting through you like a knife. Your heart pounded, anger and frustration mixing with the hurt that had been building up for weeks. “I don’t even recognize you anymore,” you said quietly, each word laced with pain. “You’re not the person I fell in love with.”

For a moment, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—regret, maybe? But it disappeared as quickly as it came, and she rolled her eyes, dismissing you with a scoff.

The casualness of it shattered you, and you felt tears welling up. You’d fought so hard to keep things together, but it was clear she didn’t want your help or your love right now. Without another word, you grabbed your things, the weight of her indifference pressing down on you as you left.

You didn’t know where else to go, so you went to Mapi and Ingrid’s place, tears streaming down your face as you tried to explain everything through sobs. Mapi’s face hardened, anger flashing in her eyes as she listened, while Ingrid wrapped you in a comforting hug, murmuring reassurances.

“Alexia’s hurting,” Ingrid said gently, rubbing your back as she held you. “This isn’t you she’s mad at—it’s the injury, the loss of control.”

Mapi nodded, though her jaw was clenched. “But that doesn’t mean she gets to treat you like this. You don’t deserve any of it, Y/N.”

They stayed with you through the night, Ingrid sitting beside you, holding your hand as you cried, and Mapi pacing the room, her frustration clear. Eventually, Mapi decided to go talk to Alexia herself, determined to set things straight.

Back at Alexia’s apartment, Mapi found her curled up on the couch, her face blotchy from crying. It was clear that Alexia hadn’t expected anyone to come by; she looked up, startled, as Mapi sat down across from her.

“Mapi…” Alexia started, her voice wavering.

But Mapi held up a hand, silencing her. “Do you realize what you’re doing, Alexia? Do you even realize what you said to Y/N?”

Alexia’s gaze dropped, guilt and shame flooding her expression. “I… I was just angry, Mapi. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Mapi’s voice softened, but her words were still firm. “I know it’s hard, Ale. I know better than anyone how an ACL injury can feel like the end of everything. But you don’t get to hurt the people who love you because of it.”

Alexia’s shoulders shook as she let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know how to do this, Mapi,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how to be… me anymore. It’s like this injury took everything.”

Mapi reached over, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re still you, Ale. You’re still loved. But you’re pushing away the one person who wants to help you through this. You need to apologize and make things right with her before it’s too late.”

Alexia nodded, tears streaming down her face as she realized the weight of her actions. She didn’t want to lose you, not over this, and yet, she’d been pushing you away.

Later that evening, Ingrid brought you back to Alexia’s apartment. As you stepped through the door, your heart felt heavy, unsure of what to expect. You could see Alexia waiting for you, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her expression one of remorse and vulnerability.

She took a shaky step toward you. “Y/N… I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness after everything I said, but I need you to know that I never meant it. I was just… I was so angry. At myself, at this injury… at everything.”

Your heart softened as you looked at her, seeing the regret in her eyes. “Alexia, I understand that you’re hurt and frustrated, but you didn’t have to push me away. I’m here to help you, to be with you, not to be shut out.”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I know. I know, and I’m so sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I didn’t see what I was doing to you… to us.”

Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She melted against you, her shoulders shaking as she clung to you, whispering apology after apology, her voice filled with guilt and desperation.

“I’m going to be better,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I promise I’ll communicate, I’ll let you in. Please… just don’t give up on me.”

You ran a hand through her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not giving up on you, Ale. I never would. But we have to do this together, okay? No more shutting me out.”

She nodded, sniffling as she pulled back to look at you, her hands still clutching your arms as if you might disappear. “I swear,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m going to be better. For us.”

You gave her a small smile, wiping away her tears as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Alexia. We’ll get through this, together.”

Relief flooded her expression, and she pulled you close, her arms wrapped tightly around you as she pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere she could reach. “Thank you, mi amor,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “I love you, more than anything.”

In that moment, as she held you close, you felt the warmth of the Alexia you’d fallen in love with, the one who was still there, despite the pain and anger. And together, you knew you’d find your way through, one step at a time.

Tags:

@goldenempyrean @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

#groucy alexia putellas #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso appreciation #alexia putellas

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redr0sewrites · 23 hours ago

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NNN Hcs with the Dc Batboys

🥀A/n: exactly what is sounds like‼️ i love writing no nut november hcs sm-

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader,

🥀Cw: smut, teasing, switch!reader, use of the term(s) prince/ss in Bruce's pt, dirty talk

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson:

bringing up NNN to Dick definitely raises a brow- at first he's a little confused, you don't want to have sex for an entire month? who would ever want that?

once you explain it though, i think he'd be really into it. he's definitely a little pouty that he can't even masturbate, and would probably complain if you were abstaining from sex without telling him why. once you convince him to join you though, he starts taking it very seriously

Dick has a bit of a competitive streak, so i definitely think he's in it to "beat you". he's teasing you endlessly, trying to get you to give in before the month ends (and theres definitely a high chance of him outlasting you)

actually suuuuuch an unfair tease, like genuinely he's soo annoying throughout the month. you walk by him wearing shorts? he's kneading your ass and giving it an appreciative slap. you don't have a shirt on for any reason whatsoever? he's coming up behind you and groping your chest, whether you have boobs or not, and whispering filthy things in your ear.

he's also big on teasing you in your sleep- you can't tell me Dick wouldn't have the biggest somnophilia kink ever so he's absolutely trying to get you worked up while your asleep, in hopes of you waking up and giving in

i honestly see two outcomes: he either makes it to the end of the month, or he gives up about 3/4 through. i feel like Dick has a pretty high libido, but i also think he has really good self control and can resist temptation so there's definitely some internal conflict on his end.

it gets to a point where, at the end of the month, because his libido is so high and he's been untouched for so long, he's like tweaking out over every touch and is becoming veeerrryyy needy and sensitive. this is probably the time period where he's most likely to give in as he's just soooo sensitive and can't even touch himself to get off! you have a much higher chance of getting Dick to give in once he reaches this threshold, and if you play your cards right he'll be squirming.

if he does make it through the month, expect to be woken up at 12:01 on the first of december with Dick humping your thigh and whining in your ear. he's NOT in control right now, he's way too needy and sensitive, and he's definitely okay with letting you use him to get off- he needs to cum just as bad as you do

gives you the most AMAZING orgasms after waiting a month, he's mounting you like an incubus and rutting into you like his life depends on it until your both whimpering and overstimulated ♥️

he's probably gonna be a little mean too, considering you made him wait soooo long <\\3

"hnhah- ffuck." Dick's soft breath tickles your ear as he nips at the lobe, his hips rocking heavily against yours. "c'mon, baby, you can give me another, please.." his cock twitches against your tummy, tip sticky and wet from previous orgasms.

"Dickie, i just came-" you whine, yet your body betrays you as your hips roll up to meet his. he chuckles breathlessly against the soft column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-soaked skin. "please, baby? jus' one more, f'me?" his tone is teasing, but you can tell he's desperate as you feel his cockhead twitch again. with a soft giggle, you nod, and Dick wastes no time in aligning himself with your hole. "you ready, hun?"

"mhm," you hum, and he slides in. your hole is already wet from previous orgasms, it had felt too good for Dick to not cum inside, and that only aided his sloppy thrusts as he rutted against you. your eyes flutter closed as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and Dick ducks back down to whisper in your ear as your orgasm draws closer. "so pretty, s'good for me, made me wait so long for this... ffucck- y'gonna cum for me, honey? gonna take it all?"

Jason Todd:

Jason is honestly a wild card, i think it could go a multitude of ways honestly depending on how you feel

when you suggest the idea to him, i either see him being a tiny bit petty and lowkey deciding to fuck you every day of november OR take it as a challenge and being determined to make it through the month with no screw ups.

if it ends up being the latter, than i feel as though Jason has a higher chance of succeeding then losing. i don't think his sex drive is super high, and he's also pretty stubborn, HOWEVER, you are his weak point, and if you end up teasing him or begging him, i can picture him snapping and fucking you

either way, he's at least making it through half the month if not longer.

the only way you'll get him to give in is if your REALLY desperate, because he could never see you needy- so teasing him or pleading with him to fuck you is probably how you can get him to break

i also see him teasing you, but only subtly. he'll wear those low rise sweatpants he knows you like around the house, he's shirtless more often than not, and somehow his hands always seem to find place on your thighs... what lovely coincidences!

Jason struggles more with not fucking you than not being able to masturbate. i honestly don't think he does so very often, so it wouldn't be much of an issue, but not being able to fuck you? not even being able to give you head? drives him insane.

all in all, Jason cares more about your satisfaction than his own. could probably go the whole month without your interference, but is probably pent up by the end of the month

speaking of pent up, he's going to be insane at the end of the month because you made him wait. probably going to be more dominant than usual, BUT he's still really gentle and sweet because he knows your sensitive,,, so its a win!

the first time he cums after no nut november he swears he sees stars, probably praises you to the moon and back over how perfect you are

i think he'd wait until the next day to ravish you, he'd let you both get your sleep, but encourages you both to take the day off and spend the day in bed catching up on lost time. december first is going to be a LOVELY day for you,,,,

"s'that feel good, baby?"

"ffuck- yes Jay, fucking me so good-" you whine into the pillows, drool soaking the fabric as Jason pounds into you from behind. strong arms frame your form as he fucks you, his dick just perfectly touching your g spot/prostate with each thrust.

"aren't you- hnghh- glad you took the day off? relaxed a bit?" Jason huffed, his breath tickling your ear as he tightened his one handed grip on your ass. "y'should let me take care of you more often, especially after waiting so long..." he coos, and you let out a strangled moan as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten faster and faster.

"y'gonna cum for me, pretty?"

"y-es, please, Jay-"

"shh, s'ok, me too, we'll cum together, okay honey?" he soothes, rocking against you as the bed frame quakes.

"gonna fill you up so nice," he murmurs under his breath, white curls plastered to his sweat-slick forehead. "gonna make you cum for every day i couldnt..."

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is making it through the month, no questions asked. it does not matter how deeply and truly he loves you, this man is IN IT TO WIN IT. he is absolutely making it through the month and will not budge i fear

theres a few nights where he's pent up and irritated after batman-ing and considers giving in, but he never does

when you first suggested NNN to him, he's probably a bit lukewarm to the idea, but whatever makes you happy 🤷 ngl he probably thought you were mad at him and this was a punishment or something at first😭

he honestly didn't think you'd end up actually going through with it, and if you end up giving in at some point in the month he'll definitely feign disappointment

"such a shame, i thought you were challenging me to this...game."

he's absolutely evil when it comes to teasing. he'll come up behind you and press gentle kisses on your neck, his large hands holding a firm grip on your waist, only to pull away with a practiced, professional smile as you begin to curl into his touch <\\3 he also plays up the Brucie Wayne persona, and is a lot more subtly seductive in an attempt to get you to break

keeping a firm hand on your lower back in public, giving you gifts (specifically lingerie, with a note attached that states, "for the end of the month"), and overall being a bit more possessive

when the month is over??? PREPARE. it's late, almost 2AM on december first, and the second he returns from patrolling he's finding you. doesn't even take the batsuit off, hell, he probably fucks you right there in the batcave, bent over the batcomputer. he's a little harsher than usual, and definitely more needy. he also tells you to take the day off, so he can.. spoil you for the entire day <3

let me just say, after so long of abstaining, he FUCKS, and he fucks you hard. you swear your seeing stars with each thrust, and he's genuinely insatiable. probably wants to breed you too... doesn't matter if you can get pregnant or not, he's fucking you full of his cum

the desk beneath you rattles with each thrust, and your thighs tremble as large, gloved hands find purchase on your soft skin. the rough, cold temperature of the leather provides delicious contrast to your lust-warmed skin, and you let out a wanton moan as Bruce thrusts heavy and deep inside.

"you like that, doll? like making me wait?" he practically growls in your ear, and you let out a stuttering moan.

"n-no, please, s'too much-"

"aw, poor thing. can't even take my cock... guess it has been a month after all, you'll need some time to get used to it i suppose." you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but just as you go to spit back a retort, he rolls his hips against your again. you shudder, clenching around him as his pace speeds up.

"so good f'me," he coos, almost cruel in his ministrations as he rubs harsh circles into the soft flesh of your thighs. Bruce's thrusts increase in pace, his tip rearranging your guts as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"o-oh! 'm gonna-"

"fuuck, i know, prince/ss. cum for me," he whispers, moving one hand to the small of your back, pushing you down more firmly against the desk. "you can take it."

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2pndr · 3 days ago

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Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form.

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit. But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory. The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid.

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk. There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask. We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out. It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character.

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to. Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter.

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar.

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together.

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl.

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you.

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point.

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

“Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets. An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second.

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread.

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you. Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence.

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

[FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you. There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell.

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic. Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place.

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty.

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance.

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation.

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there.

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen.

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table.

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words.

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.”

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now.

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip.

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air.

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes.

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar?

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding.

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod.

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck.

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first.

“ I’ll have the…”

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire.

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had. Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you.

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

“Please. Call me Minjeong.”

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to.

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly. Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way.

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions— you came up short.

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into.

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable.

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it.

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way.

“Make sure to call me, okay?”

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you. Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern. Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled.

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

#winter fluff #aespa fluff #minjeong fluff #minjeong x reader #winter x male reader #winter x reader #winter x you #winter #aespa winter #kim minjeong

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ssahotchnerr · 15 hours ago

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aaron’s wife going into labor on his birthday or the day before and gives birth on his birthday?

only more reasons to celebrate

happy birthday aaron 🥰 & the abridged version of ellie's debut!! (now it's official she and aaron share a birthday <3) cw; fem pregnant!reader, (sad) references to 9x5 and takes place end of 9x6, vague childbirth talk with no specific details, fluff!!! wc; 1.3k

"Happy almost birthday. I'll keep it on the DL." You heard Penelope utter to Aaron, faintly as she walked past him.

"Thank you." He replied, finding your eyes and offering a wink.

Come tomorrow, he was confident it would be anything but on the down low. He knew you, and although you were about ready to pop, you would go all out for him as much as you possibly could.

And he was right - you and Jack had already planned his day out to a T, beginning with a birthday banner and all.

"Okay everybody, I guess it's time-" Penelope spoke to the group, embracing her role as hostess, holding the team's very first Day of the Dead party.

You smiled to yourself at their brief exchange, your eyes flicking between the two of them. Your heart warmed, especially when Aaron sidled alongside you, a hand finding your lower back.

After the last few weeks, after what Aaron had endured, there was only more of a reason to celebrate. His close proximity; the heat radiating from his body, the smell of his cologne, choked you up immediately.

Sole reminders he was in fact, here.

Undergoing emergency surgery, fighting for his life - all of which nearly sent you into an early labor - once again he had defied all odds. It could've been very likely you could've been celebrating his birthday without him, talking to him through a candle as he and Jack did to Haley.

You immediately pushed the thought from your mind. It petrified you. Losing him. Bringing your baby into the world without him. Jack losing another parent. Life without Aaron. You couldn't afford to think like that.

And now, with that in the past, it finally felt as if life were settling back down. As much as it could, at least. The newest Hotchner addition soon to make their arrival into your family.

"Hey," You said softly, mumbling underneath Penelope's spiel. "I love you."

His hand moved from your back to your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "I love you."

But despite your want for a bit of normalcy, it was interrupted by twinge erupting in your body. It wasn't your first little pang either, but you figured - it couldn't be. Not yet.

JJ, on the other hand, was keyed in onto you. She's been studying you all night long, throughout all of Penelope's planned extravaganzas - appetizers, the remembrances, enjoying the party. From every movement, reaction, facial expression.

It wasn't until the strongest contraction hit, and when you were beginning to seriously question it. She, out of all people, would know. She nearly did the same thing herself.

"What?" You innocently asked, despite the fact you knew, as her intensifying stare hadn't lifted from you in a fair few minutes. You flinched slightly, pain written across your face. You lowered your hand, deciding against the hors d'oeuvres you had been reaching for.

"How far apart are they?"

That was all JJ had to say, causing an instant standstill in the room. Aaron's eyes widened as they shot to you, realization filling them within a second. The rest of the team's conversations came to a halt, anticipating eyes on you. An excited squeal escaped Penelope.

Everything after that was a blur. Aaron getting you to the car in a frenzy; a very calm, and collected frenzy. Getting to the hospital, checking in, and experiencing the highs and lows of childbirth. At one point, you certainly cut off the circulation in Aaron's hand.

Come mid morning and an epidural later, she was here.

"Sorry for overshadowing your birthday." You took a break from admiring the little one swaddled in your arms to glance at your husband. It was hard to tear your gaze away. She was perfect.

And not only did you feel an outpouring amount of love for her, but Aaron as well. Viewing him in a different, lovingly light. It felt as if your chest could burst with infatuation. She was half you, half him. The two of you brought this bundle of joy into the world, together.

"Are you kidding?" Aaron gave you an almost offended look from where he was seated beside you, before a smile overtook his face. He pressed a kiss to your temple, gazing at your daughter too. "This is easily, easily the best birthday I could ever imagine. You've given me the greatest gift. Thank you for making it even more special, sweetheart."

The happiness on your face grew, and he immediately gave you a kiss. You could feel his smile.

"Thank you for making me a Dad again."

Later in the day, Jack's head poked through the crack of the door, a grinning Jessica behind him.

"Hey," Aaron beckoned the two of them in, both entering slowly. Jess had a plastic tray of cupcakes in hand. Celebrations were in order, times two.

"Hi Mom, Dad."

Jack hesitantly approached, surprisingly shy. You imagined Jessica had given him the quiet talk on the way up. Either that, or maybe he was still a bit weary from when he visited Aaron in the hospital a few weeks ago - there was the smallest bit of worrisome furrowed in his brows.

Jess stepped off to the side, allowing the four of you to have your moment.

"Hi buddy." You greeted as your eyes immediately welled up, the emotion clear in your voice; overwhelmed from enduring childbirth, your hormones everywhere, and the pure happiness coursing through your veins. "Wanna meet your sister?"

It was surreal too; Jack finally meeting his little sibling. After months of excitement, preparation, talks of what life would be like with a new addition. The time had finally arrived.

Right now. Right now was the beginning of their bond that was sure to be the most special thing.

"Sister?" His face lit up, any remaining hesitations aside as he made it to your bedside, attempting to lean over to get a clearer view. "She's a girl?"

"Here, careful." Aaron's hands extended forward, helping him onto the hospital bed. You were sore, multiple IVs were poking into you, and to make certain the baby wasn't disrupted by any of the movement.

Jack nestled gently into your side, peering at her in absolute awe. The smallest of breaths left him, you could feel his exhale on your arm. "I can't believe that's really her. She's so tiny."

"Isn't she? Can you believe you were this small once?" You asked, adjusting the blanket to expose a bit more of her face. At the action, Aaron's posture straightened, ready to assist if needed, or to simply do it for you. He was definitely worried you'd somehow overexert yourself. "Are you up for holding her?"

Jack's expression widened, nodding vigorously as Aaron did help this time - moving her from your arms to his, and ensuring the back of her head was supported. The classic pillow-under-the elbow strategy.

Once settled, her eyes opened for a moment, blinking up at her big brother, as if she knew she was being held by him. Jack's gaze lifted in shock, glancing between you and Aaron. Once again, cue your tears.

"What's her name?"

"Eleanor." Aaron answered proudly, another smile tugging on his lips. You met his gaze, grinning.

"She shares a birthday with you Dad." Jack stated, using the side of his index finger to brush her cheek. "That's so cool. You guys are like twins."

"Yeah well, we'll see how much Eleanor likes it as she gets older."

You playfully rolled your eyes, your reaction causing a chuckle to exit Aaron. His hand found the back of your head, lovingly smoothing your hair down.

"It's very cool." Aaron still confirmed, his heart full. "I was just telling Mom, this is one the best presents I could ever receive."

"And two birthdays mean two birthday cakes." Jack looked up at his father, grinning from ear to ear. "Ellie will love it."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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pearlcigs · 2 days ago

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⋆ i know my girlfriend is a . . . witch! — tlou discord server

witch costume!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ ellie is normally very good at keeping her cool in public, but the way your tits look in that tight witch dress... god, it's like you put a love spell on her.

warnings ⋆ 1.70k ⋆ halloween smut, tried not to describe the outfit too much i hate that shit too but i had to for the plot my bad yall, ellie LOVESSS tits, car sex, subbyish ellie, pet names (babe), choking (e!receiving), getting caught :(

it was chilly, just as every halloween night that you could remember since you were a kid. you remember long sleeves under your princess costume and a puffy jacket once the night was over to keep you warm in the barren cold. you can reminisce fondly now and thank your parents for keeping you warm unlike back then when you thought they were trying to ruin your costume. however, your parents didn't take you out for halloween anymore, so you had no one to follow you around with a coat and reprimand you until you wore leggings under your dress.

you knew you would be cold when you found the simple black, velvety dress, choosing it since you knew you'd wear it more than once and your hard earned money wouldn't go to waste. it was simple, no broom stick or book of spells to go with the outfit, only a small witch's hat headband and the hope that one of the buttons didn't rip open when you took a deep breath. okay, maybe you got a size too small in your haste to find a halloween costume for the stupid party you had to attend with your girlfriend. it would do, right? you could just go exchange it in the morning for a larger size and in the mean time pray that you wont pass out from the lack of air flowing to your lungs.

you did have to admit though, the tightness of the dress accentuated your features, highlighting the best aspects of your body, more than just a little bit of cleavage being shown. you didn't have time to complain or admire your dress though, already far too late. you finished getting ready, a pair of thigh highs to complete the witchy vibe, fixing your makeup to be just right, a pair of shoes that were sure to give you blisters. by the time you had arrived at the party, people were already drunk. you fought the urge to roll your eyes, looking through the sea of intoxicated mindless college students, trying to find your lovely girlfriend who made you come to this shit show.

you spotted her in one of the corners, dina and jesse by her side. and of course they were wearing a cringey couple costume, a bold 's' on dina's white shirt and a bold 'p' on jesse's black shirt. you laughed to yourself, shaking your head as you pushed through the crowd to make it to them. ellie caught your eyes from across the room, dorky smile on her face to accompany her dork costume. she wore a batman shirt along with an attached cape, on brand for her. when you got closer, ellie could see what you chose to wear, her eyes widening as her eyes roamed over you. was it hot in there or was it just ellie?

in a matter of moments you were at her side, her heart beating out of her chest at the way you looked. she always said she had the prettiest girlfriend in the world, and tonight, you were proving it. she couldn't take her eyes off you, even as you leaned in to give a small kiss on the cheek to greet her. "wow... just wow." ellie finally speaks up, her hand that wasn't holding an alcoholic beverage finding the curve of your waist. you laugh, amused at her dorky reaction. "i got a size too small, do you think it's noticeable?" you inquired, smoothing out the wrinkles on the dress with your palm.

"it's, well, i mean, i don't..." she stutters over her words, this time earning laughs from jesse and dina. she didn't hear their laughs though, her heartbeat too loud in her ears. "it's fine, yeah, fine." she swallows, squeezing your waist slightly. it was no doubt that you were a very attractive woman and ellie made sure you knew that always. "i mean, beautiful. you look beautiful. not fine, beautiful." her words gave you butterflies in your stomach, even if she did butcher them at first. "smooth, ellie. real smooth." dina chimes in, big grin on her face from watching her friend try to flirt.

"shut up. the ladies love me." she protests, squeezing your waist even tighter and taking a sip of her drink. maybe she just needed some liquid courage. "ladies? plural?" you question, teasing her for her cocky attitude. "lady. lady! obviously just you. obviously. if any other girl wanted me, well, i'd just have to drop kick them, y'know babe?" you can't help the snort laugh that comes out of you at her nervous attempt to smooth things over. normally she was so calm and collected around you, but right now, she couldn't even think straight. the only thing she could think about was your tits and how good they looked in that dress.

the way the fabric hugged them, watching your chest rise and fall as you breathed. with each breath you took, they threatened to spill out. god, ellie just wanted to leave marks all over your chest. you could see clear as day that ellie was staring. the way she was ogling at you was making you confident and maybe a little horny. time went on, talking with some people, getting your own alcoholic drink (because what's a halloween party without getting drunk), even convincing ellie to dance with you. and still, the whole time, ellie was mesmerized by you.

it was well after midnight, jesse and dina no where to be found. "of course," ellie thinks to herself. they always disappeared when it was time to leave. ellie didn't want to wait any longer, leading you to the car. you told her you could just take an uber, same as how you got here, but she protested that she could take you home. the two of you waited in the car, ellie fiddling with the aux after texting jesse you were waiting in the car for them. the window was rolled down, reminding you of the chilly october breeze. you rolled the window back up, not wanting to catch a cold.

you stared at your window, watching kids with their parents roam around with their costumes and buckets of candy. you wanted that to be you and ellie one day. however, while you were thinking of ellie wholesomely, she was still drooling over your tits. i mean, you were alone now, a few marks wouldn't hurt anyone. "hey. you wanna, y'know?" she smiles awkwardly as she nods her head to the backseat. "just until dina and jesse get their asses out here." she continues on, trying her hardest to convince you to make out with her right now. she wanted to taste you on her lips.

you rolled your eyes at her feeble attempt to convince you but somehow her loser charm worked on you. and before you knew it, you were both in the backseat, grinding down on ellie as she kissed your neck and chest. pants and heavy breaths filled the car, half-assed moans falling from both of your lips. "your tits look so good. like.. fuck, babe." she rambled, leaving the marks she craved to leave all night on the exposed skin of your breast. "this dress is incredible." she continued on, just praising your entire existence at this point. "would look even better off though." she smiled like a nerd.

"dina and jesse will be here soon..." you tried to weakly protest, not making any effort to stop her as she unbuttons the dress. your tits immediately spilled out, and suddenly being able to breathe better. "they're probably somewhere fucking." ellie counteracted, not wasting a second to put her mouth on your nipples. you gripped her shoulders, grinding your hips down onto hers and cursing under your breath. you were so sensitive, craving ellie in a way you hadn't before. maybe it was a full moon, but then again it didn't really matter. all that mattered was ellie tongue gliding over your supple skin.

"i could cum just from looking at you." her voice is raspy, becoming drunk on your taste. "really?" you moan out, hands exploring ellie's body and sliding underneath her shirt. her skin was so warm, so inviting. "'course, babe." she mumbles, too focused on marking up your perfect body. "i need you so bad." you admitted, bringing one of yoru exploring hands up to her neck. she looks up at you, eyes almost rolling back at the notion of you choking her. she presses her lips against yours, her hand fumbling to find it's way under your dress and into your panties. she ran her fingers through your folds before pressing against your clit.

you moaned into the kiss, moving your hips with no rhythm to desperately feel the pleasure you crave. you pull away, eagerly lifting ellie's stupid batman shirt over her head to reveal her sports bra. you dragged your hand down her body, starting at her neck all thw way down to the button of her jeans, all while careless whines fall from your swollen lips. it was your turn to leave marks now, doing your best to keep your focus as you put your lips on her neck. "fuck, babe. this is so hot." ellie licked her lips and tilted her head back to really enjoy your kisses. her fingers never stop, working at your clit like that was their only job.

the windows of the car started to fog now, past hand prints from previous moments like this reappearing and being lewdly illuminated from the moon. just when you were about to unbutton ellie's pants, there was a knock on the window, pulling you both out of your blissful state. it was hard to see through clouded over windows, but the recognizable white shirt with an 's' on it made both you and ellie's heart rates pick up. ellie hand was out of your underwear faster than it went in. frantically, you rebuttoned your dress and ellie struggled to get her shirt back on. "of fucking course." ellie grumbled, and you were thinking the same exact thing. oh well, maybe next time, or maybe on the car ride home if ellie was feeling bold.

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us smut #tlou x reader #tlou smut #ellie smut #ellie x reader #kinktober

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lowkeyerror · 10 hours ago

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Ours Together

Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: Spoilers for Agatha All Along (entire series), Angsty, hurt/comfort (ig), Happy ending, Familiar!Reader, Familiar lore for this: They are weakened when away from the witch they are connected with, being with the witch amplifies powers, think of the familiar here as some mythical creature close to a witch but not exactly

Summary: When Agatha and coven summon a Green Witch to the road, they're surprised to be met with 2 people instead of 1. You yourself we're surprised and disappointed to be trapped with Rio and Agatha

An: Another one so soon... they're on my mind

Masterlist

“Uh who is that?”

The coven was so distracted by Agatha’s reaction to Rio, that no one saw you struggling to climb out of the ground behind her.

“I’m Y/n, and I could use some assistance,” you say stretching out your hand.

Teen and Alice are the one’s that eventually help you out of the ground.

“I though we only summoned one witch,” Jen eyes you skeptically.

“I'm sorry what?”

You take in your surroundings frowning at the darkness. Your frown grows even larger when you spot Rio and Agatha.

“We're on the witch's road and-”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Beg pardon?”

“The witch’s road it’s-”

You shake your head, “Not real.”

“Then explain this sweetheart?” Agatha speaks and you glare at her.

“You of all people know that the road is a scam,” your jaw clenches as you speak to her.

“You’re more feisty than I remember, pet,” her voice keeps a teasing aura around it.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at her, voice echoing, with your eyes being absorbed black.

The outburst makes everyone except Rio and Agatha jump back.

“Now, now ladies play nice,” Rio interjects.

“Send me home, now,” you speak to her.

Rio tilts her head, “I think I to want to stay awhile, just to see how things turn out.”

You groan and move to walk in the back of the pack. Agatha refocuses the group and they continue to move forward.

You watch as Rio attempts to rile up Agatha. You see the woman in purple stiffen a few times, throwing her hands around wildly. It makes you want to laugh, centuries pass, but her mannerisms stay easy to read.

Once Rio has had enough of Agatha she trails to the end of group by your side.

“Long time no see hot stuff,” she tries.

“Not long enough,” you shoot back at her.

Rio pouts, “I thought you came along to be reunited.”

“You know I have to go with you if you're summoned liked that,” you mumble mostly to yourself.

“Oh that's right, because we’re fated for each other,” Rio says dreamily.

“Because I'm your familiar,” you correct her.

She shrugs, “Same thing.”

You redirect the conversation, “Why haven't we left yet? You know as well as I do that this is not real.”

Her eyes shift to the ground, “You haven't missed her? Even a little?”

You inhale sharply, “Of course I have, but I respect her wanting nothing to do with us. Rio, we can never undo what we did to her.”

“It wasn't our fault,” her fist clench at her sides.

You guard drops for a moment. Your hand finds it’s way into her grip.

“I know,” you speak solemnly.

“Sometimes I wish-”

You squeeze her hand, “Don’t you dare. I loved him, you loved him, and she loved him.”

“I don’t understand why she let’s people think those things about her.”

“If there’s one thing Agatha still cares about, it’s her image. That’s one of the few marks on her life where she’s soft and no one can know that,” you whisper.

You feel Rio's eyes lingering on you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I don't want to do this here,” you refuse to look at her.

“Well this is the only chance I’ve gotten with either of you in a long time. I don’t want to waste it,” Rio shifts her gaze ahead of her.

“And who’s fault is that Rio?”

You attempt to take your hand out of her's, but she doesn't let you. You let out an irritated sigh.

“With you, it’s my fault. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

You didn't think you'd ever hear Death apologize. It was unexpected and you didn't know how to respond. You wanted to forgive her, but was this all she had to do to regain your trust?

“Did you know it hurts physically to keep my distance from you? As your familiar I’m supposed to stay relatively close to you. When I’m not it’s like my body is burning inside. I had to get used to that feeling after you kicked me out of your life. This is the first time in over 2 centuries that I'm not in pain.”

“I thought you would’ve come back,” she says it with more sorrow than sarcasm.

“Why would I, when it felt like you didn't want me?”

Your eyes lock on Agatha’s figure, “I wasn’t enough for you, either of you.”

Rio stops walking, “You were enough. You are enough. I became obsessed with finding Agatha and it sent me down a darker path than I realized. I wanted to find her so desperately that I let it affect things between us.”

You finally meet her eyes, “I loved her too. I feel like you always forgot, that my heart beats for her. That I belong to her just like I belong to you. I was already hurting then and then you-”

“Let’s move it losers the next trial is waiting,” Agatha says from the entrance of a house, that was not their before.

You finally free your hand from Rio's, “Forget it.”

You walk faster hoping to avoid anymore of this conversation. You go through the door and when you do it’s like you're in the 70’s.

The rest of the coven finds a mirror to check out their wardrobe. Teen points out a potential way to trigger the task and then they disperse. Leaving only you, Agatha, and Rio.

“Well don’t you look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” Agatha comes up behind you.

You turn getting ready to say something snarky, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the low cut of her shirt. The exposed skin looking better than you had remembered it. You begin to wonder if it still felt soft too.

“Boo,” Rio pops up behind Agatha.

You notice that Rio’s shirt also has a deep v cut. It makes you chuckle a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Agatha says, clearly annoyed by Rio’s present.

“I just think it’s funny the road gave you matching deep V’s.”

Rio chimes in, “It’s because we go together. Don’t we, Agatha?”

“No,” Agatha walks away after that.

You see Rio briefly deflate and you place a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll get her champ.”

“And you?” She looks at you in only the way that she can. Doe eyes, warmth & sorrow mixed together, pleading for the best outcome.

“I’m your familiar, Rio. Eventually it’s in my best interest to come back to you,” you reply and try to walk off.

“You are my love, Y/n. More than you’re my familiar,” her words stop you.

“Good to know,” is all you can manage to say before walking off.

You look around a bit, wondering exactly how this was all possible. You knew that road wasn't real, so where were you? What was this, and how did Agatha manage to get others to do this with her?

You notice after awhile Agatha and Rio are missing. Against your better judgment you look for them. You find them in what looks like a producer’s area. They’re stood next to each other talking about the glory days.

You don’t interfere until you see Agatha’s hand slide across the intercom. Before Rio can fall into Agatha’s poorly executed trap, you clear your throat interrupting the conversation.

You walk over cautiously, and fit yourself in-between the pair, effectively moving Agatha away from the intercom.

“Planning a character assassination so soon, Agatha? What’s the rush?”

Rio’s eyes land on the intercom and she laughs, “Clever as the day we met.”

“I see you’re taking her side again,” Agatha says pointedly.

“I never took sides and you know that,” you fire back at her.

Agatha scoffs, “Well you came out of the dirt together so…”

“You know how the summoning work Agatha, don’t play dumb,” you counter.

Agatha throws her hands up in exasperation, “So what, I’m supposed to believe that you two haven’t been living it up together this whole time.”

“Why do you think I was alone when I came to see Agnes?” Rio interjects.

Agatha stumbled for a moment, “Because it would’ve been weird to have another person with you in my show.”

“I haven’t seen Rio in close to 300 years,” you admit.

“ Boo hoo poor baby. That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Agatha mocks you.

Your voice takes on an echo again, “IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU LEFT ME!”

Your argument is interrupted by some loud distorted sound. It makes you cover your ears and close your eyes. You gather around Teen who played the record as a clue. The room begins to spin backwards like the record and the sound intensifies.

Agatha smashes the record player on the ground which immediately stops the song.

Lilia speaks up, “We’ve been cursed.”

Its only a matter of seconds before she screeches and hits the floor.

You see this and start muttering under your breath. Alice springs into action taking Rio’s knife and carving a circle around Lilia.

You keep chanting to yourself. Everyone but Agatha and Rio were concerned around Lilia.

“What are you doing?” Agatha questions, but you just keep chanting.

Your fingertips glow dully as you touch them to your shoulders.

“I am protecting myself,” you say once you’re finished.

Jen gets hit next and once again Alice draws a circle around her. Teen also gets attacked, being flung through the glass mirror. Alice reveals that the curse is hers after that. It’s generational, meaning that it is harder to expel than most.

“We have to sing the ballad,” Agatha says.

She goes back and forth with Alice before they come to an agreement. Everyone picks up and instrument except you. You sit as an audience member.

“What, you’re too cool to play?” Jen asks.

“You don’t need me to play, so I’m not playing,” you shoot back.

Teen tries to encourage you, “The more people we have, the easier this might be.”

Your eyes are engulfed by black once more and your voice echoes dangerously , “I’m not playing that song.”

Agatha can’t help but look at Rio in that moment. The pair are the only ones who know why you aren’t interested in singing the song.

“Let’s just start,” Agatha begins singing before anymore arguments could be made.

You hate what has become of the song. Nicky’s sweet song, was now the witch killer’s anthem. You felt like it was disgraceful. It hurt you even more when Agatha did nothing to stop the song from becoming some rock anthem. Finding out that Lorna used it to protect her own daughter softened the blow a little bit, but not entirely.

Watching them preform you notice Teen wincing while holding the guitar. Your eyes scan his body looking for indicators of injury. It’s not highly noticeable, but you spot blood seeping through his side.

Against your own beliefs you stand and begin to walk over to him. You sing the tune lowly under your breath, before taking the guitar from him.

You can see he wants to argue but you nod your head towards the seating area. Your eyes drop to his side to let him know, that you know that he’s hurt.

He looks annoyed, but takes a seat anyway opting to just sing the ballad instead.

Your eyes lock with Rio’s and you glance towards the kid. She shakes her head slightly and you focus on playing the song.

Once Alice defeats her curse, Teen is laid across the sitting area. His breathes are shallow. Agatha is the first to rush over to him.

“He’s bleeding we got to get him out of here.”

You all take him back to the road and lay him across a large stone. You sit back with Rio watching the group panic. The most panic being evident in Agatha.

She turns to Rio, “Don’t.”

The woman beside you makes no gesture. Agatha starts pleading with Jen to fix it.

“She needs water and moonlight,” you speak up.

It seems to give the potions witch an idea. Alice gathers the water and Jen starts chanting in the moonlight. She pours the water over Teen’s injury and it starts to close up.

Agatha’s falls upon you and Rio once more. Before she goes to help move Teen.

“You’re here for him, why?” You ask the woman beside you.

“That’s not his body. I can’t just-”

You shake your head, “You can. So why don’t you want to?”

“Once is already pushing the limit, but to let him get away with it twice. It’s not fair, it’s unbalanced,” Rio argues.

“What is 2 souls to the hundreds of thousands that perish daily? You have William and you will have the other. You and I both know that you don’t need the body to reap the soul.”

She sits quietly, no reply on her tongue.

“I think you’re here because Agatha is here,” you say.

She glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth, “Does it not bother you that she walks down this road with another woman’s son pretending that he’s ours? She knows he’s not.”

You look at the ground.

“I know you hate it, just like you hate what they did to his song,” Rio pushes further.

“Grief is different for everyone. Agatha is still grieving and I don't think she’ll ever stop. I can’t blame her, I grieve him every day. I know you do too,” you speak softly, getting up from your spot.

You leave her with those words. Maybe you shouldn’t seek her out, but you look for Agatha.

You come across the camp set up before you find Agatha.

“Do you have any scars Y/n?” Lilia is the one to ask.

You take a seat around the fire.

“A bunch, physical and emotional,” you lift your shirt.

There a long scar that goes diagonally across your stomach. Your finger caresses it gently.

“Jesus Christ,” Alice says.

“It’s fairly new,” you keep your eyes on the scar.

“What happened?” Lilia speaks gently.

It’s then that Agatha and Rio join the circle. The sit on either side of you, both looking at the scar.

“Got captured by some witches. They tried to kill me, harvest my organs, etc.”

“How did you get captured?” Agatha asks, not really believing your story.

Your leg starts to bounce a little, “Well, I wasn’t with anyone else and I hadn’t been around… the people I need for my power to be at my strongest. So I was weak in that sense.”

“How did you escape?” Jen asks.

You shook your head, “I got lucky. They got bored eventually because I um- I can’t really die. They ‘left me for dead’ so to speak, but Death never came for me.”

“You’re immortal?” Alice deadpans.

“No one is immortal, I’m just really hard to kill. I have an intense healing factor,” you admit.

“Then why the scars?”

You keep your gaze low, “Because I didn't have my full power. I had enough to close and heal the wound, but the longer I was there the harder it was to make them pretty.”

You hate the silence that follows.

You hear Agatha roll up her sleeve. She gives a one liner about some coven that she wiped out. It’s funny and everyone laughs. You can see it takes her by surprise and it puts a small smile on your face.

“I have scar,” Rio starts.

“No you don't,” you and Agatha say at the same time.

“Yes, I do,” Rio goes on to describe the most fragile parts of your relationship .

She’s vague but you can hear the hurt in her voice. She finishes the story, but doesn’t look at Agatha.

Agatha storms off first, Rio trailing behind her, and you hesitate but ultimately end up following Rio.

Agatha stands with her back towards the both of you. Rio chooses to stay behind her while you walk around to face her.

Agatha’s head lulls back onto Rio’s shoulder. One of her hands snakes it’s way under your shirt, running the path of the scar. You keep close to her, but don’t move.

She puckers her lips as if to kiss Rio. You can see the fight inside of the original green witch. She wants this so badly, but she must push.

You do it for her. Your hands gently grab Agatha’s face pulling her towards you. You close your eyes as your forehead rests against hers.

“My love, Teen is not-”

“I know,” she whispers, and she starts to pull away.

“Please,” you hold her in place. “Please, let me have you close for a second. Both of you.”

It had been centuries since the three of you were this close. The raging fire inside of you finally resting after all this time. The relief that spread through your body like a cooling agent.

Rio and Agatha both take notice for the first time, realizing how tense you had been since your appearance on the road.

“How long did they keep you?”

“Some years,” you answer quietly.

Agatha whips around to stare at Rio, “Where were you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rio redirects the blame.

“I left her with you so -”

“SHE WASN’T SOMETHING TO BE LEFT!” Rio let’s out an outburst. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “She is our familiar. Not mine, not yours, but ours together Agatha. It hurts her to be apart from either of us.”

“What did you want me to do? Forget what you did to my son?”

“OUR SON,” Rio’s voice booms louder than you ever heard it before. You swear the entire road shakes with the reverb.

You move forward to put a hand on Rio’s shoulder. You can feel her shaking with emotion. At first you think it’s anger, but then you see her tears fall.

“He was our son too Agatha. I didn’t want you to forgive me, I’ve never forgiven myself. I wanted you to mourn with me, with Y/n. I wanted us to have each other because we needed it.,” It’s defeated when Rio says it.

“I did mourn,” Agatha argues back.

“No, you didn’t,” you interrupt them, but your eyes were far away.

“How would you know you weren't there?” Agatha retaliates.

You sigh, “You act like I didn't want to be there. Like I was the one running and hiding. I know you haven't mourned because we wouldn’t be here if you had. We all know that this is not real. You’re singing his song… walking this road with this boy that you want to be him.”

“You can't deny my grief.”

“He asked you not to. You promised him, Aggie. It was his last promise.” Your voice cracks as your tears begin to form. “And you didn’t just break it, you took his song. Our song… and you used it to do the one thing he begged you not to.”

By this point you were choking on your sobs. The sight of you broke Agatha’s heart.

“I was grieving, I was angry, and I was alone!”

You fight her again, “You didn't have to be alone!”

“Well we can't go back and fix that, now can we?”

You groan, “No, but we can move forward if you just stop running.”

Rio stops the argument, “Enough! Y/n, she doesn’t care about us. The only person she cares about is herself.”

Agatha lets her anger out, shoving the green witch, “That’s bullshit.”

Rio shoves her back, “Is it now?”

Agatha spears Rio to the ground, “You know that I love both of you. That I care for you more than I’ve cared about anything other than my- our son.”

Rio flips their position so that she’s on top of Agatha, “Then why are we fighting?”

Agatha’s chest heaves up and down; Rio’s moves nearly the same. Agatha's hand reaches up to caress Rio’s face. At that same moment Rio leans in.

They kiss. You gasp , not at all expecting things to turn so quickly. A smile of relief coats your face as you watch them. You feel a pleasant warmth spreading across your chest.

“I love you,” Agatha says against Rio’s lips.

Rio smiles, “I love you too.”

“Finally,” you say exasperatedly, causing them both to laugh.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch like a weirdo or are you going to come over, pet?” Agatha says.

You roll your eyes, but continue to make your way over to them, “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

When you’re close enough Rio pulls you into her quickly stealing a kiss from you. You blush at her brash affection. You try to hide your face in her neck, but Agatha’s finger hooks under your chin.

“What do you suppose I call you then?”

You lean into her grasp, “Yours.”

Her lips graze yours as she speaks, “Mine.”

Your lips meet hers fiercely. She pulls you from Rio's lap fully onto hers. Instead of sliding up your shirt like before her hands travel lower. The feel on her fingers causes you to moan lowly, the sound echoing as your eyes filled with black.

“Not here, not yet,” you feel Rio’s breath tickling your neck.

You whine, “Centuries apart and still teasing.”

Agatha let out a hearty laugh, “Let’s get back to the others.”

Agatha and Rio are up first, helping you to your feet. You walk between them, feeling whole for the first time in a long time. Rio’s hand is in yours, while Agatha runs her fingers through your hair.

You still had things to work out amongst each other. One talk or a kiss cannot fix everything you’ve all been through. Yet talking and kisses amongst the three of you are known to be promises. Promises of a better future united together.

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #alice wu gulliver #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #billy maximoff

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adragonprinceswhore · 16 hours ago

Text

Make You Feel My Love

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, DUBCON (drunk sex), degradation, dirty talk, fingering, deepthroat, breathplay, spanking, P in V, hairpulling

A/N: Based on a request by anon, I hope you like this! Another spooky fic for the spooky season, Happy All Saint's Eve! 🖤

Word Count: 5100

Your breath turns into small clouds in the cold air as you step out of the office building, the chill of late autumn biting through your wool coat.

It’s already dark outside. The tall lamp-posts lining the empty streets cast a pale light over Cobbler’s Square, the business hub of King’s Landing. As you fumble with your gloves to put them on, your phone vibrates, breaking the silence of the still night. You glance down and see a message from an unknown number:

"Working overtime again?"

Your eyes linger on the screen. The message makes you shiver, it’s uncomfortably familiar yet oddly unsettling. You scan the sidewalk, wondering if someone from work might be pulling a prank at your expense, but there's no one around, just the faint murmur of traffic in the distance.

After a second of consideration, you decide it must’ve been someone texting the wrong number, so you slip the phone back into your pocket, and head toward the underground.

The one good thing about staying late at the office is that there’s always a free seat on the train. You take a seat, put in your earbuds and close your eyes, relieved that another stressful day is behind you.

Still, the strange text you’d received leaves a knot of unease tightening within you.

Your mind drifts to recent news reports about a man harassing women across the city. He’d been lurking around office buildings, the stories said, learning his victims’ routines, showing up at the same places, always at the wrong times.

The coincidence is eerie, almost too frightening to think about. So you pull out your phone, trying to distract your wandering mind.

You scroll through recent news, and just as you feel yourself relax a bit, another reminder of your recent distress pops up on your screen,

Aemond Targaryen.

It’s hard to keep up with recent affairs and not bump into him.

A member of the Targaryen family, one of the most powerful media dynasties in the country, he was untouchable, the kind of person people said was destined to rule the world. At first, he’d seemed like the everything a woman could wish for: captivating, attentive, always ready with grand gestures.

But as time passed, his attention turned darker.

His texts became constant, then invasive.

He’d ask where you were at all hours, demanding you kept your location tracker on at all times. He would question your friends, arguing they were ‘beneath you’. He even hinted at you quitting your job as a political reporter, a position you had studied and fought for for 8 years, to come work for him. “I’ll make you my personal assistant”, he’d said, “Keep you close in case I need anything.”

His controlling tendencies, paired with his arrogant worldview was what ultimately led you to break things off with him . And when you finally did, he’d accepted it with chilling calm; no fight, no anger, just a quiet nod.

You force the thought from your mind, stepping off the tube and onto the platform.

Once you’re home, you kick off your shoes, lock the door, and sink into the quiet solace of your apartment. You’re pouring a long-awaited glass of wine when your phone vibrates again.

The screen lights up, the same unknown number.

"I hope you got home safe."

The pit in your stomach returns.

It started off with little things.

Strange texts that seemed harmless enough. Then came the letters, always printed and neatly folded, never including a return address.

At first, you brushed them off. It was easy to wave away the unease, convincing yourself that it was a prank, a mix-up, maybe just a wrong number. They were never addressed specifically to you anyway.

A little discomfort, nothing more. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages began to change.

They weren’t just random or generic anymore; they became specific, too personal, with a familiar vocabulary that made your skin crawl. Whoever was sending them seemed to know you intimately; your routines and habits.

Things you had never shared with anyone.

The messages were like an invisible set of eyes, always watching from places you couldn’t see.

You still remember the first time you felt true fear. It was a Friday night when your phone rang, and you answered to hear nothing but dead silence.

No voice, no background noise, just the suffocating, empty void on the other end of the line. Stunned into silence, you waited, but the call never broke the silence.

Eventually, you hung up, convincing yourself that it was nothing, probably a misdial. But then the calls started coming more frequently. And with each passing second you had to listen to the silence on the other end, your unease grew.

The letters were even worse.

They began appearing not only in your mailbox, but slipped under your door as well, tucked into the gaps like sinister little secrets.

You remember holding one, your fingers trembling as you read the words, each line making your apartment feel smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. The messages never outright threatened, but their tone was unsettling, implying that the sender knew where you lived, what you did, even how you spent your quietest, most private moments.

Before they were impersonal, now they included your name as well.

You really shouldn’t walk alone at night.

The city is full of dangers, and someone as precious as you deserves better. I watch you sometimes, you know.

I watch the way you clutch your bag a little tighter when the shadows loom over you, how you shiver when the wind cuts through your coat. It makes me want to keep you safe.

You work so hard, staying late at the office. It must be exhausting, always pushing yourself. But don’t worry. I’m never far away. Watching. Waiting. Ready to step in if you ever need me.

Sleep well tonight.

I’ll be thinking of you.

The animalistic fear the letters brought out in you caused tears of despair to shine in your eyes. Never before had you felt so unsettled; robbed of your sanctuary and stripped bare under the unrelenting gaze of an unknown threat.

When you thought things couldn’t get worse, you notice it in the corner of your eye whenever you get off the tube. Someone has started following you home.

As with the other terrors, it began subtly.

A shadow moving just out of your line of sight, footsteps that kept the same rhythm as yours, only to fall silent when you turn to look.

Initially, you brushed it off as paranoia. The strange texts, calls and letters had made your nerves stand on high alert at all times. So you walk faster, clenching your keys in your hand, telling yourself you were imagining it.

But by now, it’s become undeniable.

On more than one occasion, you’ve glanced back and caught the outline of a figure lingering just far enough away to melt into the darkness.

Once, you thought you saw someone duck into an alley when you turned around too quickly, and the image haunted you for days.

Each night, the walk from the tube station to your building feels longer, the streetlights casting distorted shadows that play tricks on your mind. In retaliation, you cross the street randomly, change your route, but the feeling never fades.

The worst part is that the presence doesn’t make itself known.

It doesn’t shout or approach.

It simply waits.

Watches.

Now, whenever you walk home, every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes your heart beat fast and hard. You know someone is out there, tracking your every move.

Always lurking just out of reach.

The world around you has become a riddle of dark mysteries and hidden threats, and the sense of safety you once had feels like a distant memory.

You feel it every evening, that unnerving prickling sensation of being watched.

At the office, you catch glimpses of people who seem too familiar, faces that never linger but somehow stay with you.

On the train, you feel eyes on you, shadowy figures that seem to mirror your every move. Once or twice, you’ve even taken detours down different streets, slipping into shops just to lose whoever’s following you. But somehow, they’re always there, just at the edge of your vision, close enough to make your skin crawl but too far to confront.

Tonight, as you step onto the station platform, your heart hammers in your chest. It’s crowded, people weaving through the tiled halls, but even among the sea of strangers, you feel that presence nearby, watching.

You keep your head down, slipping into the crowd with hurried steps, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. Your throat feels tight, and each breath becomes an effort as you board the train and move toward an empty seat.

Sitting by the window, you try to focus on the reflection in the glass. Your face looks pale and unfamiliar; a distorted version of yourself, yet it’s the background you watch carefully, searching for that familiar silhouette or lingering stare. The lights flicker across the train’s interior as it pulls away from the platform, the steady hum of the tracks doing little to calm the creeping dread in your chest.

You finally reach your destination and exit quickly, walking down the street to your house in hurried steps.

Your eyes scan the dimly lit surroundings, every shadow and alleyway filling with the possibility of someone lurking. Halfway to your building, you spot it—a figure across the road, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the surrounding lamp-posts, watching you.

They don’t approach.

They don’t call out.

Just watch.

A chill crawls up your spine, but you force yourself to keep walking.

Each step feels like a lifetime as you quicken your pace, the distance to your front door stretching endlessly before you. The familiar sound of footsteps follows behind, soft but persistent, a reminder that you’re not alone.

You fumble for your keys, fingers shaking far too much for you to be graceful, and the moment the door swings open, you slip inside, pushing it shut and twisting the lock with a desperate click.

Safe.

At least, you think so.

You move to the window, pulling the curtains tightly closed and double-checking every lock, heart still racing. The eerie silence of your apartment only serves to amplify the tension, and you try to steady your breathing, pressing your back against the wall, reassuring yourself that you’re alone. But then your eyes fall to your phone on the counter, the screen lights up, casting a cold, unsettling glow across the room.

Another message from the unknown number.

“You looked scared tonight. No need to be. I’m just looking out for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and the room suddenly feels colder.

They were there, watching, close enough to see the fear in your eyes. You swipe through the messages, reading the last few words again and again, each one making it feel like the blood in your veins slowly turns to ice.

Every instinct tells you to delete everything, to block the number, but it won’t change the fact that they were there. They saw you. They know where you live, and they know you’re alone.

You check the locks once more, willing yourself to believe it’s just a cruel prank. But deep down, you know this is no mistake, no accident.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll file a report. You’ll talk to the police, maybe find a friend to stay with for a few nights. But as you lay down, staring into the dark, the words echo in your mind,

"No need to be scared. I’m just looking out for you."

You close your eyes, but the sleep you need feels too far away to be attainable, and all you can feel is that presence.

Just beyond the walls.

Watching.

Waiting.

It’s late at night when your phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up the dark room.

You’ve become almost numb to the sound of notifications, each one feeling like another weight to the stones of anxiety heavy on your chest.

You almost dismiss it, too exhausted to care for more ominous messages, but then that rush of fear washes over you once more.

It’s not a text message.

It’s a video, sent from the same unknown number that’s haunted you for weeks.

You hesitate, one finger hovering over the screen as dread, dark and thick like petrol, pools in your stomach.

Slowly, you tap to open it, holding your breath in fear of moving even slightly. The video is shaky, filmed through a crevice from a distance, as though captured by someone hiding just out of sight.

Still, you recognise the setting instantaneously.

The Targaryen summer house.

The video depicts two silhouettes; one laying on the bed of one of the many guest rooms of the vast mansion, the other with their head between the first person’s thighs.

The filmer zooms in on the long, silver hair of the person kneeling next to the bed, and your heart beats so fiercely it feels like it’ll leap out of your chest as the camera moves upwards, until it lands on your face, twisted in pleasure.

You remember the day clearly.

It was Aemond’s brother Aegon’s yearly summer party, an elaborate excuse for the Targaryen’s oldest boy to get shit-faced with the elite of Westeros.

Aemond, never a fan of crowds or parties, had lured you into one of the guest bedrooms for some ‘quality time’ together, which quickly escalated into sex on the crisp, expensive cotton sheets.

You raise the volume, and can clearly hear the shameless moans leaving your mouth as your ex boyfriend makes you come on his tongue.

Your stomach turns.

The camera lingers far too long on your face, zooming in and out, capturing not only the sounds of your bliss, but each twitch and change in your face.

An overpowering sense of nausea washes over you as you realize that even then, someone was there.

Someone was watching, recording your most vulnerable moments from the shadows.

The video cuts off abruptly, and a new message appears beneath it,

“Even then, I was closer than you thought.”

Your blood runs cold, and your hands start to shake.

The message confirms your deepest fear.

This isn’t a recent obsession.

Whoever this person is, they’ve been watching you for far longer than you imagined, lurking in the background of your life, inserting themselves into your most private memories.

You try to breathe, to think clearly, but the walls of your apartment once again close in on you, trapping you inside your body, fighting to run yet with nowhere to go.

The sense of violation is suffocating, and questions flood your mind.

How long have they been there?

How much have they seen?

Desperate and out of options, you swipe your thumb over the screen of your phone, and call the only other person who might have some answers.

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault.

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel.

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles.

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts.

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up.

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper,

“-you know”

“No, I don’t”

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye.

Does he not believe you?

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss.

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?”

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video.

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back,

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh”

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that,

“Aemond, please, I have more”

You sound so small. So defeated.

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry.

So cold.

Maybe it’s what you deserve?

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain”

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a month ago.

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you.

“Go on then”

“I-, I’ve been getting all these-”, your voice breaks into a sob as you speak about your recent nightmare.

You hadn’t dared speak to anyone about your recent terror, too afraid to acknowledge that what had occurred wasn’t simply some insane fever dream.

“-all these messages and letters from the same number that sent the video. I don’t know why but this person seems obsessed with me”

You hide your face behind one of your hands, mortified by the humiliation of openly crying at a cafe, next to your ex nonetheless.

Aemond observes you for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours, warming the skin of your cheek. He catches one of the tears falling from your lashes with his thumb,

“Send me screenshots of it all and I’ll have Criston’s team look through them. You know we own majority of King’s Guard Security, we’ll find whoever’s harassing you”

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe without a heavy stone of anxiety crushing your lungs.

You grab Aemond’s hand, warm and strong in your trembling grip, and squeeze it slightly,

“Thank you, Aemond”

Aemond convinces you to take a taxi home, lock the door, and distract your unease with something calming, like taking a bath.

You do just that, and the warm water enveloping you feels wonderfully comforting.

You sink deeper in the tub, disappearing into the calm warmth. Just as you breathe out a deep breath that had been stuck in your throat for far too long, a sharp knock to your front door disturbs your peace.

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over you, and suddenly you shiver in the warm bath, feeling a chill overtaking you from within.

Another knock.

You’re frozen in place.

Immobile.

Stuck in fear.

You don’t know how long you sit in the tub, waiting for the courage to stand, dry off, and peek out of the bathroom.

There are no more knocks, and when your fingers are wrinkly and stiff, you finally get out.

Peering out of the bathroom and at your front door, everything looks the same. Your eyes dart around the room until they fall on the small, white piece of paper on the floor.

You pick it up with trembling fingers, and open it.

Before, the letters you’d received had been neatly placed in envelopes and never hand-written.

This note is different.

Let me in.

Tears of desperation well up in your eyes once more and you toss the piece of paper away as if it had burned you.

Utterly hopeless, you reach for your phone, dialing the number to the one person that had been occupying your mind all day.

Aemond sends for a car to come pick you up, going as far as instructing the driver to personally come get you from your flat since you feared the stalker was still somewhere nearby, watching you.

It was Criston Cole himself that showed up at your door, a high-ranking security specialist at King’s Guard Security, often invited to do risk analyses for the government.

Being reduced to a chauffeur was definitely far below his station, but when Aemond Targaryen hands you a task personally, you comply.

You wearily eye the pistol strapped to his waist as he walks you to his car. Your glad that precautions are taken to ensure your safety, but also devastated by the fact that it's even necessary.

Will this be your new normal?

The drive to Aemond’s place doesn’t take long, and when you arrive, he offers you a slightly awkward hug in reassurance before pouring you a double whiskey,

“To calm your nerves”

You accept the drink and take a seat on the leather sofa placed in the middle of the large room. In front of you, tall windows show an exquisite view of King’s Landing, including all famous landmarks like Maegor’s Holdfast. To your right, tall bookcases of dark wood line the wall, cutting into the modern sleekness of Aemond’s home, making it more him.

You take a large sip of the whiskey, not minding the sharp taste that overtakes your mouth. The numbness of alcohol feels inviting after being on edge for so long.

Aemond takes a seat next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he sits closer than necessary on the wide sofa,

“You can stay here as long as you want”

“Thank you, Aemond. That’s very kind of you”

A small smile forms on his lips at your compliment, and he looks down at his hands. It’s almost a bashful look, and suddenly you guilty for the way you had so cold-heartedly dumped him.

Sure, he had been controlling, but if the last couple of weeks had proven anything, it was the fact that danger really lurks around every corner.

Maybe he had only been so controlling because he knew how dangerous King’s Landing truly is for young women? He had direct access to all cases filed with King’s Guard Security, he’s surely seen a lot.

When you’ve finished your glass, Aemond wordlessly tops it up.

You finish that too, chatting a bit about work and what you’d been up to recently, prompted by Aemond asking and eagerly listening.

Your cheeks feel hot from the whiskey, and when you’ve finished your second drink, you place it on the glass-covered coffee table and lean into Aemond only a little more, surprisingly relaxed.

Your eyes feel heavy as you look up at him,

“Thank you. For everything today”

When he smiles, those dimples that you once adored appear in his cheeks. He’s so beautiful in the soft light. So inviting.

“Don’t mention it. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe”

You’re not sure if it’s a sudden wave for adoration, the long-awaited relief, or the whiskey, but when you stretch your neck to kiss him, Aemond cups your cheek and runs his tongue over your lower lip.

Your fingers feel tingly as they play with the buttons of Aemond’s crisp shirt. Your face is still comfortably warm, and when his kisses travel down to your neck, you sigh in content and throw your head back.

You watch the skyline of King’s Landing through the tall windows of Aemond’s home; white lights decorating the skyscrapers competing in height. There’s a strange, red dot decorating one of them, occasionally blinking.

Your eyes narrow to inspect it further, but quickly close as Aemond’s fingers slip into your underwear,

“I’ve missed this”, he murmurs into your neck, and sucks at the skin.

“Me too”, you sigh.

His fingers know exactly how to work you, and after a few more tender kisses to your neck and deliberate flicks to your clit, you meet his fingers with your hips, desperate for more.

Just as you’re about to fall apart, Aemond withdraws his hand.

He slowly licks your essence from his sticky fingers, amused by your pathetic frown,

“Please, Aemond. Don’t be mean”

Seeing him savour the taste of your cunt only makes it ache more.

“I’m not. You know what I want”

Maybe if you had less alcohol in your body, you’d realise how bad this is.

Fucking your ex is never a good idea.

But the heat of the whiskey warming your senses makes you reckless, and you smile as you kneel on the floor in front of him.

With eager fingers, you pull down his zipper and take his cock in hand, already hard and pulsating in arousal. Wasting no time, you lean forward to lick the tip before ungraciously taking him into your mouth, sucking as if your life depended on it.

Aemond tuts above you, a disapproving noise you know from when you were dating. You look up just as he moves his hands to cradle your face, mischief dancing in his eyes,

“You can do better than that” he says and pushes deeper, until his cock is in your throat and you can’t breathe.

He releases a prolonged sigh and stays buried in your throat, stealing air from you.

The harsh pounding between your thighs intensifies as the oxygen to your brain cuts off. You look up at Aemond, who regards you with a sinister grin, and shoves his foot between your kneeling legs, pushing at your clit.

It’s the last push you need, a playful kick to your swollen nub, and you come with his cock still deep in your throat.

With no air to inhale and an excruciatingly consuming orgasm coursing through your body, you feel too light-headed to keep your eyes open, ready to succumb and disappear into the abyss of bliss that is the orgasm Aemond forces out of you.

Before you lose consciousness, Aemond pulls out, a glistening sting of spit falling from your lips and spilling down your chin.

Your ears are pounding from the rush of finally being able to breathe again, yet you hear it, like an echo in the distance.

He’s laughing.

“Fuck, that’s a good little slut”, he praises you, “Getting off on choking on my cock”

He catches the drool on your chin with one hand, and forces you to stand with the other. Your legs still shake, and you stagger forward, almost falling into him.

He laughs again, amused or condescending, you can't tell, and manoeuvres you to kneel on the sofa facing away from the city landscape.

He brings the hand covered in your drool between your cheeks, and trails it down to your clit. You gasp at the sting of overstimulation, but Aemond’s hand doesn’t budge,

“You weren’t supposed to come from that, dirty girl”, he taunts you with a playful yet harsh smack to your ass. You whine and try to pull away, it’s all too much.

“I wanted to tease you for a bit longer”, he whispers into your ear, and you can feel the leaking tip of his cock press between your cheeks,

“I won’t be mean though. My precious girl deserves better”

He slides in easily, the mess of your slickness, spit, and Aemond’s precum easing his path.

You lean forward to brace yourself against the backrest of the sofa as he starts to fuck you, pace quick and hard, just as you remember him liking it.

"Aemond", you moan and he goes harder, the smacks of his hips hitting the meat of your ass loud and vulgar in the quiet night,

“Say it again”, he orders and pulls at your hair so your head falls back, “Just like that, baby, you look so fucking hot when I fuck you”

When you don’t comply fast enough, he pulls at your hair harder. You cry out his name, and he rewards your submission with a kiss to your cheek,

“Good girl”

After that day, things change.

Aemond sends cars to pick you up from work so you won’t have to get on the tube. He distracts you from the eerie shiver that’s settled into your bones by bringing you out to dinner, to the cinema, to a new wine bar.

He allows you to lean against him whenever you talk about the nightmare that the last few weeks have been. He even puts an arm around you, and occasionally presses his lips to the crown of your head. And he always listens carefully.

The controlling tendencies that had previously chased you away now provide comfort.

He knows where you are at all times, so no one can steal you away.

He always answers your calls, so you never have to feel alone.

He always meets your needs, whether it’s letting you talk shit about your boss for hours, or excitedly chat about a book you just read.

He's always near.

Always ready.

Always watching.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you liked this and want more, check out my fic The Commune!

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