#That funny little girl… slipping through my fingers all the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iniquitousyearning · 2 months ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 31st. tom riddle — breeding kink, raw sex.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom has a dream about fucking you raw, and decides it’s time he ditches the self-restraint.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, needy tom riddle, fingering, slight begging, desperate sex, PIV, creampie, incoherent babbling/dirty talk, breeding kink, literally the most feralized and needy and pathetic tom i have ever written .

You wake up to the feeling of Tom at your back, sometime within the early hours of the morning.

Not an unusual occurrence, per say, but you're vaguely aware of the fact that the desperate way he's gripping your waist and pressing against you isn't just par for the course—something's off—and you don't get to wonder or question what exactly it is because within a second he's pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring your name, and stealing your cognitive function before you even get the chance to wake.

"What—" you manage to get out, just as his hand slides up the front of your shirt and his lips continue mouthing against your neck.

"Hm?" He murmurs, as if he's doing nothing unusual, as if you aren't completely aware he's pressed up against you like an animal in heat.

"Are you," you're struggling to get the words out as his lips graze the spot on the nape of your neck that makes your breath catch. "Okay?"

He stills for a moment at that, before he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat, as if the question is almost funny somehow. "Should I not be?"

"I just...mmf—" a whole body shudder goes through you as his hand reaches the underside of your breasts; palming, squeezing. "You seem—different."

"Different," he echos against your neck with a smile. "In what way?"

"Uh, needier—oh," his hand slips from your chest to the front of your pyjama pants, grinding his erection against your ass. "What's—gotten into you—"

"You, of course," he husks, and the fact that he can be cocky while he's practically pinning you to his chest is the perfect bloody summary of him. "Who else?"

"Well—I mean—" the words leave your lips in a hissing moan as his hand, that beautiful, steady hand—slips under your waistband and wastes no time in finding your clit, long fingers swirling tight little circles against it. "What—ohhh—"

"You do know that you're asking way too many questions," he whispers, teeth nipping at your ear lobe as he runs his index and middle fingers down your slit. "I'd rather you be moaning my name as opposed to doing a million cross-examinations on my behaviour."

Well, that certainly shuts you up, at least on the verbal side of things—because the gasp that leaves your lips is not entirely something you can control, considering the fact that you're suddenly very aware of just how badly he seems to need you right now.

"I think that was progress," he croons between open-mouthed kisses, absentmindedly making you shiver and jerk as his fingers resume rubbing and massaging your clit. "Good girl."

You whimper faintly at that, and you wish you could hate the way you react to the praise on principle only—but that's kind of hard to do when it's him, and he's doing the praising in the first place. So instead, you just try to keep any kind of higher brain function intact, regardless of it being a losing battle at this point.

"I just need you," he practically groans, and it's the strangest thing to hear him say when he's usually just fine being all smug and self-composed. "I need to feel you, now."

It's the closest thing to him pleading that you think you've ever heard, and the guttural moan you let out as he slips one of those long slender fingers inside your embarrassingly slick cunt is the closest thing to feral as you're sure you've ever been.

"Need," you whimper as your hips jerk, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it's a sound you've made and not some kind of vocal fry of his. "Need me, why?"

He doesn't answer right away, not in words—just sucks your earlobe into his mouth in a way that makes you want to scream. "You're not usually this difficult."

"M'tired." The argument is weak, at best, but you're not exactly in any kind of frame of mind to try and make sense of the situation. "And you're—intense—"

"Yes," he murmurs, that smug tone still needling your eternal irritation. "And if you must know, it really is because of you. I had a dream about you." He punctuates the sentence by slipping a second finger into your slick heat, and you barely manage to keep a whimpering moan inside that you just know he would love to hear. "Fuck. It was a beautiful dream."

He bites at your ear again, and it occurs to you that the desperate edge to his voice might have something to do with just how good the dream of you felt—or how badly he'd clearly wanted it to be real.

You suddenly need to hear every goddamn detail.

"Felt you for once, without protection," he tells you, as if reading your mind, and you whimper at what you're pretty sure is a pretty profound confession. "Even better than I thought you'd feel—fuck—"

"You're not the only one who's thought about that," you manage to get out, and you're not even being coy about it—at this point you're simply trying to deal with the realization that Tom Riddle having a wet dream about you is apparently enough to turn you into a pathetic, drooling mess. "But you are the one who's always been insistent on using condoms."

Oh, the low growl he lets out at that is a dangerous sound—it's low and guttural and it makes you realize that there's a very real chance this is going to go somewhere you might have trouble walking away from.

"Yes, well," he pauses, and you can practically feel the fire in his eyes. "I'm just realizing I might have been a bit of a fool."

"You, admitting you're a fool?" You somehow give a half-assed scoff at the idea as you try to hold onto your sanity. "I think hell just froze over."

He laughs at that—actually laughs, and it does strange things to your insides to have it directed at you.

"Maybe I'm just in a very specific sort of mood."

"Oh?" You manage to raise an eyebrow. "And what kind of mood is that?"

"The kind of mood," he says, in an almost growl that you're trying to interpret through the haze of trying not to moan, "where I throw all reason out the window. The kind of mood where I forget all self-restraint."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you," you choke out, because that is true, but you're only half-thinking through your words before you say them, half your brain stolen by the curling of his fingers inside you, massaging your slick walls. "You don't usually—"

"Never," he cuts you off, like he's fully aware of just how different this is and trying not to admit it. "Until you."

Well, you don't know what to say to that—because you know him, and you know he doesn't usually lose himself in things like this, not like he's apparently doing now.

"Oh?" You gasp, as his thumb sweeps over your clit, making your eyes roll. "So I've made you reckless."

His answer comes in the form of a low, grunting sound of agreement, his grip on your body shifting a bit as he pulls you back tighter to his chest, rutting his erection against your ass.

"You've done more than that," he murmurs with a sigh right in your ear as his slick fingers slip out to draw wet little circles against your clit. "Fuck it. I need to feel you—please, let me fuck you right. No protection."

Oh sweet Mother of Merlin.

There were a lot of words in that sentence that you were fucking sure, just a minute ago, were entirely out of the question for him. Not a soul on god’s green earth could have prepared you for the feeling that utterance just invoked—and you can't help but let out a helpless, wanton groan in response—his fingers driving you directly to the very edge of climax—

"I need a word out of you," he grits, and you realize then that you're both at the mercy of something he can only half control as he ruts against you again, his fingers slowing as if he's edging you— "please."

You wish you could give him something teasing, snarky, maybe even witty. Something to needle him for just how beside himself he is, something to call him out for the feralized broken thing he's seemingly been reduced to.

But you can't, because your climax is right there, and he's moving his fingers too slow, denying you of it on purpose—

"Yes," you whimper, the word like an answer to a prayer you hadn't even known you were praying for, and you realize somewhere behind your consciousness that you're desperate and aching inside for so many reasons, all of them because of him. "Please, fuck. Please, do it—I need—to cum—"

And at those words—that plea—the need in them, there's no stopping the sound that tears itself out of his throat, and before you can even think he's jerking your pyjama pants off your thighs—

"Wanna feel it—" he hisses as he frees himself next, tugging you against him and lifting your thigh toward your head. "Need to feel you cum when I'm inside you."

Oh, and at this point you're begging that you'll survive this.

You're at his mercy, as you've been before, but in a completely different way—one that seems to be fueled by whatever animalistic thing is driving him today, and you're left with no defense besides the knowledge that he's doing this because if he didn't, he may just lose his goddamn mind.

And for as much trouble you generally get into by enjoying him being cocky and in control of the narrative, this—this is something you've never once experienced. Tom on the edge of falling completely apart in his need for you, desperation and need taking a front seat to his usual restraint and control.

He's between your thighs before you can blink, and then he's pushing in. "Oh, fuck."

It's a sensation that's completely different when there's no barrier between you, and you're pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that the animal in his chest has risen to the surface, taking you by the throat, you would have gasped out in a moan so loud it woke the entire fucking country—but somehow, someway, you manage to tame it.

His face buries in the crook of your shoulder, and it's a sound of guttural relief as his breath goes shaky and unsteady right in your ear.

"Feels so good," he whispers as he sinks in—as his thick, throbbing dick disappears into your greedy cunt. "Too good."

'Too good' feels like the exact wrong thing to say right now, at least in your mind, because you're pretty sure you'll take the fact that this feels so good you're scared it might kill you to your grave.

"Oh my god." You manage to get out the words through the haze, and you're barely even sure what you're saying, your head thrown back against his shoulder, his arm coming up to wrap around your throat. "Oh my god, Tom."

He responds with a shaky curse of your name, and you’re absolutely certain somewhere in you is exploding, something in your gut is coiled so tight it's like holding in the biggest possible secret of the world that you're desperate to scream to someone—

"So wet. So tight. I'm never starving myself of this again." It's a confession that steals your breath, and you struggle to keep breathing, struggling with trying to keep your world from spinning away as he starts to make shallow, languid thrusts into you, free hand slipping down to your clit. "Let me feel it. Let me feel it all."

You keen. "Fuck! Please."

It's the only word you can manage in a half-hysterical moan, your hand grabbing onto the one he's wrapped around your throat as if he's saving you from certain destruction, as if he's the only lifeline you'll ever find—and maybe, you think that's okay, because you're so used by him in so many ways that right now you don't even want another.

"T-tom—" his fingers swirl your clit in perfect time with his thrusts and you're clenching so tight your entire body is almost stiff. "Tommmm—I'm fucking—"

His teeth bite down on your shoulder with such ferocity you'd think he wanted it to bleed, and you're not even sure it's intentional as his body tenses against yours, tugging you back like he's trying to crush you into his chest.

"Yes. Yes," he hisses again, and it's broken. "Please give it to me."

'Please give it to me' are the best five words you've ever heard from his mouth, you think with the quarter of your brain that’s still functioning—and it's like you've been waiting for permission without realizing it, because you feel fireworks going off behind your eyes a moment later.

"Oh fuckk! Yes, yes, oh!"

You cry out, so loud you'd be nervous about someone hearing you if the pleasure wracking your body wasn't so powerful you're pretty sure you're going to feel it all the way into next week—and there's a sound like something coming undone against your skin as his teeth dig deeper into your shoulder, a sound that's like a low, guttural moan of your name before he shutters something in half-broken words you're not even sure he's meant to.

"Oh yes—god, you're tight—fuck—"

You can't answer him, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later it's all painfully forgotten with the way he lets out another moan against your shoulder—

"That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Just like that."

It's the pet name that does something to your insides, twisting them up in a way you can't quite parse through the haze, but it's enough in the moment to make tears prick unbidden at the corner of your eyes as he jerks against you, his breaths coming in shaky, heavy pants against your skin as his own climax draw closer, and there's no way this wasn't something you both needed that neither knew how to ask for.

"Tom," you manage to whimper, and it sounds like a prayer of your own creation. "Tom—"

It's like he needed to hear you moan his name like that in a way that's primal—because in that moment his hand moves from your neck to your hair, and he clenches his fist into it, pulling, and it's enough to make a shattered moan force its way out of your chest and up to your throat.

"M'close. Mmm. So fucking close," he hisses against your skin. "M'gonna—fill this tight cunt."

And god, it should be alarming, because you've always been careful, careful, careful—because you've always known the risks, the consequences, but right now you're having a hard time remembering why you ever thought it was a terrible, terrible idea to let him do this.

"You're—Tom—you—"

"I know,” he groans, and it's like a plea, as if you're saying something out loud that he doesn't want to admit he knows— "just take it. Let me—fucking breed you."

There's a moment where your chest seems to constrict violently at that, where you're almost sure you must have a heart condition because it feels like skipping a beat is the under-explanation of the century, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and god if it wasn't as profoundly hot as you know it shouldn't be.

“Jesus—Tom—“ there're a lot of things you know you should be saying, things you'd planned to say—or not do, as the case may be—but the only thing that leaves your lips at this moment is, “please."

And he doesn't know if it's a plea or a prayer, but either way it’s all the same because there’s no stopping the sound that leaves his lips as your answer sinks into his brain, as the meaning sinks into his bones: the low, guttural, primal sound of a man losing pieces of himself in something that he doesn't care to stop.

"Oh—" he chokes out. "Oh god—"

It's like it's taking him like he wants it to, stealing him up in a way that both makes him feel both more whole than he's ever been and like he's lost more of himself than he can possibly cope with at every other moment all at once, and you're pretty damn sure you'll be the only thing that survives it, in the end—

And then, he explodes. "Fuck—"

It's a choked-off sound that tears violently into the room without his permission, one that claws its way out of his chest and up his throat in a way that feels simultaneously like falling into and being pushed off of a cliff straight into oblivion—

"Mmm yes. Yes. Take it—" he's twitching inside you, hips trembling as he pumps his release deep within your walls. "Fuck. Fuck yes."

There's a million and one responses to everything he's done and said in the last few minutes that dance on the tip of your tongue, but you're not entirely sure you have the mental capacity to do more than manage a shaky whimper at this point, and all you're even remotely sure you can do is respond to his own moans and gasps with ones of your own.

"Tom," you whimper as he finally slows. As you both work to catch your breath. "I wish you had dreams like that more often."

He just laughs, a breathless, unsteady thing.

"That's my fucking girl." He mutters. "All mine."

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indulgentdaydream · 1 year ago

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Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

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meleeyz · 3 months ago

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┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗦 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Thank you so much for the support on the first oneshot, this is mostly fluff because I have to heal the wounds in my heart that arc two left behind.

୨୧ I'm still learning how to use masterlists and stuff (😿) but you can send me requests if you want! For now I'm only going to write about Ekko (or until I learn how to use tumblr) then I'll post the list of characters I could write for.

୨୧ Inspired by some headcanons of @blllllllllllllllllllue

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The Firelights’ hideout always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but your little corner was a chaos. It was where you crafted, creating not just the masks that symbolized your rebellion but tiny pieces of identity for your comrades.

"Something like this?" you asked, holding up a rough sketch for the recruit seated across from you. He was new to the team and still shy around most people, but with you, he seemed to relax, likely due to your welcoming demeanor.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, leaning in to inspect it. "But, uh, could you make the eyes a little bigger? I want it to look more… intense."

“Intense. Got it.” You jotted down the adjustment in the margins, smiling as you worked. “Anything else?”

The recruit hesitated for a moment before glancing at you sheepishly. “So, uh, are you Ekko’s girl? Like… his girlfriend?”

The question caught you so off guard that the pencil slipped from your fingers. Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrambled to compose yourself.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean—yes. I am.”

The recruit grinned.

“Thought so. He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart did a funny little flip, equal parts warmth and embarrassment.

“He does?”

“Yeah. Like, a lot. You’d think you hung the moon or something”

The boy’s teasing tone made you flush deeper. Before you could decide whether to be mortified or flattered, another voice broke through.

“Hey! Ekko’s looking for you!” A little boy poked his head in the door, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting. ��Said it’s important.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You turned back to the recruit, already rising to your feet. “I’ve got everything I need for your mask. I’ll start on it soon.”

“Take your time,” he replied, giving you a knowing look as you walked out.

He nodded, and with a small wave, you left the workshop and made your way to Ekko’s space.

The closer you got to Ekko’s workshop, the quieter the base became, the energy from the rest of the Firelights retreating into the distance. You pushed the door open cautiously, only to find the room eerily calm. The usual clatter of tools and the whir of machinery were absent.

When you stepped inside the workshop, the quiet was almost eerie. Tools and half-built gadgets lay scattered across Ekko’s workbench, but there was no sign of him.

“Ekko?” you called, glancing around.

No answer.

A small knot of worry tightened in your chest.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny—”

Before you could finish, arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground. You let out a startled yelp as you were spun around, your voice mixing with laughter that bubbled up despite yourself.

“Ekko!” you cried, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably as he set you down, his grin impossibly wide. “You scared the life out of me, you jerk!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he admitted, still chuckling. His voice carried that familiar mix of playfulness and warmth that always made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You swatted at his arm, trying to suppress a smile.

“What did you need me for, anyway? And don’t say it was just to scare me.”

“Relax, Firefly,” he teased, stepping back. “I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“If this is another prank—”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. Just trust me.”

After a brief hesitation, you sighed and shut your eyes.

“Okay, but if you throw something at me—”

“Shh. No peeking.”

You heard him moving around, the soft clang of metal and the scrape of something being picked up. Your curiosity burned, but you kept your eyes closed, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.

“Alright,” Ekko said finally. “Open.”

When you did, your breath caught. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers—each one was intricately crafted from scrap metal, their petals shaped and welded together with incredible precision. They shimmered faintly in the light, their edges polished to a soft gleam.

“I made these for you,” Ekko said, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react. His smile, though, was radiant, the little gap in his front teeth only adding to its charm. “You like them?”

“Like them?” you echoed, reaching out to take the bouquet. “Ekko, they’re beautiful. You made these?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking both proud and bashful.

“Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate something… different. Real flowers don’t last long down here”

You turned the bouquet in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. Each flower was unique, and the care he’d put into them was evident in every detail. Your chest felt tight with emotion as you looked back at him.

“Why, though? What’s the occasion?”

Ekko’s grin returned, mischievous but endearing.

“The right way to ask my girlfriend out on a date. Tonight.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

“A date?”

“Yeah. Thought it was time we did something just for us. No missions. Just you and me.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. “So, what do you say?”

A warm, fuzzy silence hung between you, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes tying your tongue. Your gaze flicked to his lips, the same thought clearly mirrored in his mind as he leaned closer.

The moment stretched as the world outside seemed to blur and fade. Just as your lips were about to meet—

“Oh, uh, sorry!”

Both you and Ekko jumped apart as the recruit from earlier barged in, a sheepish look on his face.

“I just—uh—I had another idea for the mask and thought—”

Ekko sighed loudly, his previous grumpiness overtaking his usual charm.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll just—uh—leave” the recruit stammered, already retreating back through the door.

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “We can talk about it later.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away as you stepped back.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?”

Ekko’s pout was almost comical.

“You owe me, Firefly.”

As you turned to leave, you blew him a playful kiss. Ekko grinned, pretending to catch it in midair and press it to his chest.

“See you later.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

#ekko x reader #arcane x reader

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2cupids · 2 months ago

Text

SUCKING OFF TOJI

warnings. oral (m. receiving), cheating, videotaping, petnames, brief solo masturbątion, cümshot, petnames, toji threatens to blackmail you. mdni (17+).

“fuckin’ nasty bitch.” toji laughs above you as the camera flash from his phone comes on as he starts to record you on your knees.

slobber coats your chin and neck as you messily suck his cock, bobbing your head back and forth with hollowed cheeks, letting his fat tip graze the back of your throat each time.

“i oughta send this to that boyfriend of yours... show him how you’re sucking another man’s dick.” toji threatens, “bet the little fucker would piss himself.”

you can hear the self-satisfaction in his voice at his twisted threat and it takes everything in you to not pull away and call him an asshole.

so instead, you pinch his thigh to show you don’t find his comment funny. but you can’t deny that his words do excite you even if it’s just a tiny bit. you know toji well enough to know he wouldn’t do that, but the thought of him sending the video to your boyfriend makes your pussy throb.

a string of saliva connects the head of toji’s cock to your swollen bottom lip as you pull away. your big, watery eyes look into the camera lens before traveling up further and landing on toji’s face.

“please, toj… don’t.” the hint of sarcasm in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed as you ‘beg’ him not to, and toji obviously picks up on it.

he takes his hand off the back of your head and brings it down to caress your cheek as his lips curl into a grin. “damn slut. you don’t have an ounce of remorse in you… do ya?”

the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile, betraying the innocent expression that you’ve put on for the camera. eventually a few seconds later you have no choice but to admit he’s right with a simple shake of your head.

“that’s my girl.” toji praises you and there’s a twinkle in your eyes upon hearing his words.

you part your lips again and take his dick back in your mouth, solely focusing on sucking the tip and letting your hands do the rest.

you flick your tongue over his slit and circle your tongue around the head, causing him to shudder. a quiet whimper slips past his lips as he hovers over you. his knees feel weaker with each passing second that your warm mouth continues working on him.

“ohhh, shit.” toji throws his head back, groaning. “let me cum on that pretty face, huh?”

you hum and pull off his length once again. you watch him take his thick cock in his hand and start jerking himself off just the way he likes whenever he’s close like this.

the phone shakes in toji’s hand and the video isn’t stable anymore but that’s the least of his worries right now. as toji looks down at you through hooded eyes and a light sheen of sweat sets on top his forehead, “so good to me.. you know that, doll?” toji pants.

you make a sound in acknowledgment and smile at him.

“f-fuckk! gonna bust any second now.”

“yeah?” you speak softly while rubbing his thigh. “let me have it, baby.”

you open your mouth and tilt your head back, eagerly waiting for him to release his load all over your face. a loud groan erupts from toji’s chest and seconds later you feel his hot cum land on your face and tongue.

toji’s chest heaves up and down as he catches his breath and watches you swallow his seed. you wipe off the cum that landed on your face and pop it into your mouth, licking your finger clean. you take in his blissed out expression before reminding him to end the video, to which he scoffs and says he was about to.

he looks down at his phone and scrolls through the video, satisfied with how well it turned out. he gently cups your chin, rubbing his thumb over your jaw and gazing down at you with a slightly sinister look.

“hope you don’t ever plan on leaving me, pretty girl.” toji says quietly, turning the phone so it's facing you as the video continues to play. “because this video? it ain’t going nowhere, honey. i’ll use it however i want to always get my way.”

#𐙚 .. 2cupids #jjk smut #anime smut #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x you #toji zenin #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk x black reader #jjk toji

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viennakarma · 3 months ago

Text

Funny Little Girl

Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+ daughter)

Summary: When Lewis' little girl gets sick while he's away, he starts contemplating.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: female!reader, husband!Lewis, Dad!Lewis, fluff, little bit hurt/comfort, daughter is sick, Lewis is worried, hospital, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I wrote this in a spur of the moment at 2 am last night, no beta we die like men. It was genuinely supposed to be a blurb but my brain took over and ran with it. (Once again in my girl dad!Lewis agenda)

Feedback and comments are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter! | BUY ME A COFFEE ☕️

Lewis was restless.

He hadn’t spoken to you since the morning, and usually, by this time you would’ve already texted him a good morning message or even a silly lazy picture.

He knew, obviously with him being away on a race weekend, it was natural that the time difference stood between you, but this time he wasn’t too far from home, just a few hours ahead, so he found it strange that you hadn’t texted him yet. He left a couple messages for you again, but they were only delivered. He tried to call once but it rang and you never picked up.

Then an hour or so later, when he was in the middle of a meeting, he got a call from you, a FaceTime call. Worried, he immediately interrupted the meeting, asking for a ten minute break and scurried off to his room.

He picked up as soon as he closed the door behind himself. On the screen, he could see you, still in your sleeping clothes, and Ivy was on your lap. Lewis stared at his daughter and from one single look he could tell she was not looking well.

“Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts earlier…” You said first thing.

“What happened?” Lewis frowned.

“Ivy woke up a little under the weather today. She’s a little feverish.”

He looked at his daughter on the screen again, she wasn’t paying attention to him, her eyes red rimmed like she had been crying, in her hands, tightly held was Brendon the Kraken, her favorite plush toy, and her blankie. She had a beanie on and a pacifier. She was looking at the TV, not minding him or her mom.

“How’s she doing? Are you thinking of taking her to the hospital?” He asked, his heart tightening in his chest.

“Not yet, I think the fever might go down soon. If it doesn’t then I’ll take her to see the doctor,” you explained, rubbing Ivy’s shoulder as she snuggled up to you and Lewis wished he was home with you and Ivy, taking care of his little girl who was just a little under three, “how is everything going? Ready for the race later?”

Lewis bit back a comment of how he just wanted to go home to his wife and to his baby girl. How he wanted to snuggle up with Ivy on the couch with lots of blankets to keep her warm while watching silly cartoons. But instead, he smiled a little and talked about the race for a minute. He knew that if you knew he was sad, you were gonna be sad too, so he just pretended everything was fine and his heart wasn’t broken for being away from his family.

Ivy was a toddler, and he was aware toddlers were a little under the weather all the time and it usually wasn’t that big of a deal. Hell, he had been home a couple of times when his daughter had a little cold before. But every time it happened when he was away, it ripped his heart apart just the same.

“Will you keep me updated on Ivy?” He asked, looking at your sweet face on the screen.

“Of course, and if I take too long to reply, don’t rip your hair off with worry, okay?” You said with a fond smile. You gently nudged Ivy, pulling her pacifier out, “look, baby, say hi to daddy…”

Ivy looked at the screen, and her little lips turned into a pout, her eyes watering.

“Daddy! Want daddy!” She said, starting to cry as she made grabby hands to the screen.

Lewis felt like his heart was being torn open with a jackhammer, the pleading look in Ivy’s eyes, wanting comfort from her daddy and him being a couple of countries away, unable to teleport to her side to hold her.

“Shhh, it’s okay, love, daddy is coming home soon, isn’t he?” You said, trying to comfort your daughter, but she kept crying, fat tears wetting her chubby cheeks.

“I’m going home soon, sweetheart, I promise. Daddy’s gonna be there soon,” he said through the screen, but Ivy only seemed to grow even more agitated, her cries louder. He knew the fact that she was sick was probably playing a part in making her big emotions come out. He tried more comforting words, but both Ivy was agitated and you were trying to comfort as best as you could.

Lewis watched the screen for a few more seconds, swallowing a painful lump in his throat, seeing his daughter’s urgency in having him closer, her big brown eyes wet with tears and the grabby hands towards him as if he could just go home through the screen and pick her up in his arms.

“Sorry, love,” you said, picking up Ivy and she cried against your shoulder, “I’ll hang up to calm her down, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”

“If anything, anything really happens you can call me anytime.” He said, hearing your little whimpering through the screen, “love you two.”

“We love you, Lewis,” you blew him a quick kiss and hung up.

Lewis stared at the black screen for a long time, not really looking, just remembering the look on his little girl’s face as she wanted him close. He swallowed a couple times more, and he decided to text his dad and stepmom to go check on you and Ivy if they had some free time back home.

He went back to his pre-race meeting with a pit in his stomach. He had to make an herculean effort to be present on the race weekend and not let his mind wander back to you and Ivy. He checked a few more texts, and you kept him updated every once in a while. First telling him you got Ivy to eat something, then you sent him a picture of Ivy taking a nap on your chest, and she looked a little better, but you told him she was still a little feverish, but luckily her temperature hadn’t gone up.

Before going to the race, he warned one of the team’s assistants to keep a close eye on his phone, knowing you’d still be sending him updates on your daughter.

He finished the race P4, which wasn’t a bad finishing position but as soon as he was out of the car, he was thinking of Ivy again. When he checked his phone, your last text had been before the race started, a quick selfie wishing him good luck, but after that, there was not a single text from you, and he started worrying all over again.

“If my wife calls or texts, I need you to interrupt anything I’m doing and get the phone to me, okay? No matter what,” he said to the assistant, handing his phone again before going out to the post race interviews.

He was only half-heartedly replying during the interviews, worried that the assistant had not gone to him not even one moment, which could only mean you had not called yet.

Once the interviews were done, he went back to the assistant to check on his phone and he saw three missed calls from you and two from his dad. His stomach instantly dropped.

“I said to get the phone to me if my wife called,” He looked at the assistant who looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I tried, Lewis! The PR lady didn’t even let me through the door. I told her it was your wife and an emergency, but…” The guy defended himself, pointing to the F1 PR coordinator, who looked at Lewis with wide eyes.

“You don’t ever do that again, understood? My family is my priority and you shouldn’t have interfered when he was under explicit orders to find me as soon as my wife called.” Lewis said, he was calm but his voice was firm and left no room for questioning. The woman only nodded, spurting some excuse and apology.

He barely waved her off before finding a secluded little room to check his phone. In the texts, you had warned him that Ivy got worse and you were taking her to the hospital. He immediately called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. He tried a couple more times before trying his dad, who luckily picked up.

“Dad? Where are they?” He said.

“I brought your girls to the hospital, they put Ivy in a room and the doctor is checking her up now. We’re in the waiting room now, so as soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know. Your wife’s phone died, so it’s probably best to talk to me.”

Lewis exhaled, still feeling nervous but a little more comforted that you weren’t alone with Ivy in a moment like this.

“Can you send me the address of the hospital? I’m going straight there. And please, keep me updated.”

After hanging up, Lewis immediately went to find the team to let them know his daughter was sick and he needed to get home as soon as possible, rescheduling the post-race debriefing. He didn’t even get back to the hotel, since he had his suitcase with him at the paddock, he just called his connections and got himself a helicopter back home.

He arrived at the hospital you and Ivy were in a couple of hours later, going straight inside and finding his dad in the waiting room, chatting with a nurse. He hugged his dad, who told him you were inside with Ivy, and the nurse took Lewis and Anthony there.

Lewis entered the room where you were, sitting before the hospital bed, and Ivy was lying on the bed, holding her plushie with one hand and holding her mom’s hand with the other. She looked the same as she had in the FaceTime call that morning.

“Daddy!” Ivy squealed, and Lewis rushed inside, hugging her tightly, careful minding the IV drip in her arm. She smelled the same as always, baby shampoo and home. Lewis inhaled into her curly hair and kissed her cheek.

“Hi, baby… I’m sorry dad took too long to arrive. How is my baby girl doing?” He asked, gently putting her down on the bed, but she grasped his coat as if to stop him from leaving again. He leaned over the bed and pecked your cheek, “Hi, my love…”

You quickly explained to Lewis that that doctor had checked on Ivy and you were waiting for him to bring the results in. Lewis comforted Ivy for a moment, before walking around the bed to hug you. You looked tired, and he imagined you had spent the whole day dealing with a sick, fussy toddler.

“Have you eaten today?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“In the morning,” You mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle caress of his knuckles on your cheeks.

“Wanna go home to rest and eat while I stay here with Ivy?” He offered, despite already knowing your reply.

“Of course not, I’m not leaving her side,” You said, rolling your eyes and he smiled.

“Dad, will you take my lovely wife to the cafeteria and make sure she eats something?” Lewis said to his dad, who was still chatting with Ivy. He immediately accepted, and Lewis removed his own coat, putting it around you, “We’ll wait here, okay?”

You nodded and left with Anthony just as Lewis turned to Ivy.

“Are you feeling cold, baby?” He asked the little girl, who looked fussy and sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she nodded.

Ivy made grabby hands, whispering for Daddy, and Lewis got into the hospital bed with her, pulling her to lay on his chest as he adjusted the blankets around her. Her skin was still warm to the touch, and he held her close, wrapping both arms around his little girl while she spoke about her day, whining about her day and about being sick. She was always extra clingy when he came back from his trips.

Lewis gently played with her curls while she spoke, muttering his uh-hu, and yeah, and his of course, baby, until she started slurring out the words and slowly falling asleep.

He smiled, despite the worry, he was glad to be there finally, to be with his wife and daughter.

When you came back to the room, Ivy was sleeping against Lewis’ chest just like she used to do as a newborn, Lewis gently rubbing her back and getting drool in his shirt. You handed him a coffee, and he drank without moving a muscle so as to not wake up your little girl.

The doctor came a few minutes later, checking on Ivy and making sure she was fine and the fever was subsiding, he said it was just a little cold and prescribed a couple of meds.

Lewis carried your little girl to the car seat, while you hugged Anthony goodbye and thanked him profusely for keeping you company when you were going to the hospital earlier. After that, you went home driving, Lewis in the passenger seat.

Arriving home, Lewis carried Ivy to her little bed, tucking her in and touching her forehead to make sure the fever was really gone. When he returned to the bedroom, you had taken a quick shower and was dressed in soft, comfortable pajamas.

“How are you, love?” He asked as you walked lazily up to him and he wrapped his arms around your mirror, pulling you into his chest.

“Just a little tired…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips, walking you back towards the bed.

“Thank you for taking care of her today, love. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for most of it…” He whispered affectionately into your skin.

“It’s okay, you had work… I’m glad you came straight home to us.” You muttered as he placed you in bed, tucking you in.

“I love you,” He tugged your hand and kissed your knuckles.

He let you fall asleep while he took a quick shower too, changing into PJs before going to check on Ivy again. The doctor had assured that the medicine would take her out for the night, but she’d be totally better the following morning.

When he got in bed with you again, pulling you closer, his arm around your middle, his leg between yours and your face pressed into his chest, he finally breathed. He had been tense the whole day from being away from you and Ivy, worry gnawing at him, and guilt for being away in moments like these. Not only tough moments like this, but also the happy ones. He wondered what else he’d miss of Ivy growing up, and he had missed so much already.

That was the first time he truly contemplated retirement.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fic #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lh44 #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lh44 x reader #Spotify

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phantomsies · 5 months ago

Text

my dress up darling • ony

convincing your friend to go to a convention with you turned out to be the best idea ever!…but it’s what happens before the event even arrives that makes it all the more fun..

📝: blerd!ony, black fem!reader (plus size coded), PWP, finger sucking, thigh riding, fingering, handjob, pet names used (mama, baby, she slips up and calls him daddy), lots of praise, tit/nipple play, nasty hotel sex, tiny mentions of blood + injury, reader is a seamstress/cosplayer, missionary, squirting, friends to lovers, lots of humor and banter, creampie, aftercare

word count: 6.3K

this was a lil something I’ve been wanting to write for the longest bc blerd!ony altered my brain chemistry and I miss him tremendously (and the next time I go to a con, I’m totally not hoping to manifest a tall, darkskin, nerdy cosplayer bf🌚 just joking y’all! That would literally never happen. But I hope y’all enjoy this

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ow..damn, this hurts already..”

“You good over there, mama? What’s wrong?”

the deep voice belted out in a rather low and calm tone..cool and collected, that’s how he always was. Nonchalant to a fault and that was just one of the many things you loved about him. Hence why you had invited him along to this little venture in the first place. However, at the moment…you quite frankly could not stand his ass! Through gray colored contacts, (y/n) shot the tall male next to you an icy glare..one signifying just how ‘good’ you were!

“Oh, I’m just fine, Ony. Despite the fact that my legs are still shaking and I’m sore as hell.”

a statement that should not have garnered a single chuckle out of anyone had your very handsome homeboy doubling over in laughter. He could tell by the look on your face that you were still a little peeved at him for the previous night and this morning. Honestly, you’d never want to fight a single person in your life but if you thought you could beat him, you’d ask him to spar just one time. “What the hell is so funny?” “Nothing at all, you just seem a lil’ stressed.” Feigning his humor as he pressed the key fob to lock the doors of his 2022 Camaro..a beautiful specimen, much like the man driving it. Honestly, it should’ve been illegal to be this fine but you knew exactly what you were signing up for when you decided to come to this convention with him! Three days full of dressing up, video games and all of the collectible items and rare figurines that one’s nerdy little heart could desire. It was an event that you had been looking forward to for months and it was only the icing on the cake when your favorite cashier turned cosplay buddy decided to tag along! You’d discovered Onyakopon’s, or just Ony as everyone called him; his love for nerdy things after you came into his store on a late night with a random anime shirt on and he was all hyped to see someone else that looked like him, especially a girl..that was into this same stuff. Since that day, the two of you spoke every chance you got to gush over your favorite shows and game series, all but holding up the lines to do so. Soon, that bond carried over outside of his workplace and the two of you began hanging out. Even going to a manga and anime cafe for your first outing. You were so excited to have a friend who shared your similar interests. Eventually, you divulged to Ony that you were a cosplayer and that’s when he stumbled upon your Instagram page. Which was littered with photos of you in beautiful costumes…some very detailed and intricate and others..very revealing and sexy! Make no mistake, he drew an issue with neither one but to see your duality from a girl who walked around in long graphic tees with characters on them and sweatpants to seeing you with your ass out, dressed as one of his fictional crushes, had him very conflicted! But what impressed him even more was the fact that each one of those beautiful outfits you were wearing?

You had hand sewn each one yourself! Spending weeks at a time crafting each one. Hence why your page was so much more bare than other girls he’d seen doing the same craft. It wasn’t that you loved it any less, you just didn’t have the luxury of tossing on any old, run of the mill Amazon ensemble from some third party buyer whose plus sizes looked like they’d fit a middle schooler at best. So instead of giving it up altogether, you took the liberty of learning how to stitch them together yourself to ensure the perfect fit. So naturally, it came as no surprise that when you revealed this secret to him, he wanted you to curate his very first cosplay as well! Ony had long since dreamed of dressing up as characters such as Kratos, Jin Kazuma and all the other badass video game giants he adored. Not only did go out and purchase hundreds of dollars worth of materials for you to make his dream costume come to life, but he offered to cover the costs of everything for the weekend. Just because he was so gracious to you and excited to be going. You made it your mission to ensure that he’d be left in awe when he put it on! The character in question? None other than Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat and you decided to accompany him as the antagonist’s wife, Sindel. You both looked incredible. But leading up this moment, things had gotten a little out of control, thanks to your companion over there!..who didn’t seem to be phased at all.

“Aye listen, to be fair, you started it. I just finished it.” Prompting you to smack your lips and cut your eyes at the shirtless male. Who was glistening in the sunlight and not making matters any better. “Whatever, I think you were betting on sum’ shit like that to happen.” “Shit, I ain’t mad that it did and I know you not either.”

but just what was Ony referring to? Well…it all began last night in the hotel room…

flashback

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ony! Can you stay still, please? I’m tryna finish this last piece.”

“C’mon, ma. Can’t you do it later on?”

“If it gets any later, imma be sleep so no. You can pause that damn game and wait for me to finish sewing this on.”

it was around eight thirty at night..dark had fallen cast over the skies and faint crackles of thunder resounded throughout the air. Luckily, the two of you were safe from any potential storms in the confines of your spacious hotel room. A luxury, double bed suite at the Best Western; only two blocks away from the convention venue. The last thing either of you wanted to be worried about was having to drive forever to get there and then have no parking or having to wait in a long line. It was a mistake you’d made several times when attending these events alone but Ony wanted his very first time to be absolutely perfect. Not to mention, he didn’t want you having to walk far in your heels. DragonCon was by far one of the largest conventions in the country and people of all kinds came to the illustrious event to have fun, make friends and of course, show off their cosplays. You and Ony had decided on the video game greats, Sindel and Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat. You had loved Sindel since you first began playing the series and she became your favorite. So a year ago, you decided to craft her iconic purple suit and the staff to go along with it. So you were all set aside. But he wasn’t going to be as easy…because at the moment, while you were trying to put together the final touches on his outfit, he was clicking away at a controller, which made it difficult to get the stitching right. But you knew how it went…when you found yourself gridlocked in an important match or battle and couldn’t stop at the moment.

“Awww, c’mon! You keep blocking, bro. I hate this damn combo—“

it was at that moment when you were bringing the curved needle up through the loin cloth piece and securing the stitch, did he jump and not only cause you to lose balance, but send that needle right through your finger! Poking the index pad and breaking the skin. “OW!” On instinct, you’d jump back and immediately, Ony dropped his controller, finally breaking focus on what he was doing. You were bleeding but nothing too major. Alas though, he felt instantaneously guilty and reached for you. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Making an attempt to check on you. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel bad so you’d downplay your pain and try to brush it off. But he was quick to run to the bathroom to grab some paper and bandages to help clean it up. “Here, you sit down..I got you.” You could tell he was remorseful by the way he flew into action but it was just a part of the craft. You’d lost count of how many times you’d singed yourself with a hot glue gun or poked yourself with a needle. Hell, you still had a giant scar on your arm from the time you sliced it, trying to cut material for a prop. It was certainly on the tamer side of the injuries you’d sustained. But just knowing that he was even remotely responsible for your pain, he couldn’t handle that.

“Ony, I’m fine. Really..I’ll just wrap it up later..”

“Nah, I should’ve stopped like you said. That’s my fault.” There was a sudden shift in his tone and you didn’t like it! There was no need for him to feel guilty. But here he was, sitting next to you on the bed as he gently cusped your hand and began first aid. He was a true sweetheart if you’d ever met one. He’d start by wiping it away and cleaning it thoroughly. You told him that a bandaid would only get in the way and keep snagging so you’d just leave it uncovered.

“You good? How you feel?” A question that elicited a laugh from you. You didn’t understand why he was so worked up over something so trivial. “I told you I’m okay. You ain’t got to worry, I’m a big girl. It’s gon’ take more than a lil’ ass needle to break me.” It was then that the two of you found yourselves face to face on the edge of the bed. Everything else had seemed to fall silent or as menial background noise. You noticed that he couldn’t stop staring at you and that he was still clutching your hand. Those deep set eyes of his remained focused on you as he casually slid his thumb across your own. “Yeah..I know. But I just wanna make you straight, that’s all..you know I care about you.” The sentiment sends flutters throughout your stomach. He was so sweet and attentive..it really shocked you that no woman had snatched him up already. He was incredibly handsome, respectful and always kind. You were happy to have someone like him in your life.

“I appreciate that..I’m just happy you decided to come with me. It means a lot. I usually do this by myself so I feel a lot better with you around.”

by now, the mood had shifted from slightly intense to..something far more sensual. Serene and quiet, as if the two of you were lovers confessing your feelings under moonlight. Truth be told, you’d never pictured yourselves as anything other than friends up until that moment. But you were always each other’s ‘person’. Attached and glued at the hip and loving the sense of happiness you brought one another. This peace and safety that came with knowing you could be your authentic selves. Inching closer, Ony would bridge the gap of space between your bodies and place a hand on your thigh. “Well you know I wouldn’t have missed this for anything..getting to be alone with you? It’s the highlight of my year..dressing up and getting to experience my first con with my fine ass girl? I couldn’t ask for better.” You’d feel your skin run hot and pangs shooting off in your stomach as he uttered the words in that deep drawl. You couldn’t believe he was so infatuated with you. Granted, you were beautiful and there wasn’t a time that you doubted yourself but he was unreal. Those pearly white teeth, that gorgeous dark skin, chiseled physique and that height..he nearly drove you insane when you were measuring him for all the pieces and you caught a glimpse of that v-line! Right now, your minds were on a one track path and there was no chance of it derailing.

“..Ony..”

because of this, neither of you could fight your urges a second longer and he’d pose a question you’d been dying to hear. “..Can I kiss you? Lemme thank you for helping me..” and without hesitation.. “I think you know the answer.” ..you gave him the green light. In a matter of moments, he’d curl a finger underneath your chin before pulling your face closer and pressing your mouths together. His soft lips collided with your own and eventually, you’d begin to make out. Shoving your tongues around inside of each other’s jaws. Your palm would creep up to cup his face and you’d find yourselves locked in a heated moment of passion. You found yourselves tangled up; hands colliding and caressing the opposite frame and by the time you came up for air, yours were roaming underneath his tank top and his were all up your slightly parted thighs.

“Here..sit on my lap.” Commanding with such suaveness, you couldn’t move fast enough as those perfectly manicured fingers waved you towards him. Ony would chew at his lower lip after licking; his signature mannerism when he was feeling a bit aroused by you. He’d done it so many times, that he had to quell it and be on his best behavior. But now, he couldn’t be too vexed to do so. He wanted you and you’d realize just how much before the night was over. You’d follow his command, propping yourself on his muscular thigh. It was decorated by a single tattoo of Shenron from Dragon Ball Z, surrounded by the eight balls. It was such beautiful work but if Ony could be rather frank…he wanted nothing more than to have you grinding yourself on it or watch that ass clap against it! A depraved thought but a real one nonetheless.

“I think you deserve a break, baby..been working so hard tryna’ get me right…lemme take care of you for a lil’ bit.” It was once you were stationed on his lap with those legs slightly parted, did he resume those sloppy yet gentle pecks. Intermittently shoving his tongue into your mouth. He’d slowly trail those fingertips across your covered skin; still sheathed by those tights underneath your skirt that you’d worn at dinner. Rips had plagued the inner corners as they’d always done…it was nearly impossible for you to keep those or a pair of fishnets with how thick your flesh was. That didn’t seem to bother him at all though. To Ony, it was the most attractive shit a woman could have. He loved how soft and supple your skin was..always scented with cocoa butter and that sweet perfume he loved so much. He loved how your features just made everything you wore, cosplay or otherwise..look so accentuated. He couldn’t get enough. Meanwhile, those nimble digits worked their way up your skirt and stopped just a centimeter short of your aching center. Unbeknownst to him, this was the first time you’d been so close to a man and in such an intimate setting. But make no mistake, you weren’t scared. In fact, you invited the idea of having him be the first one to ‘deflower’ you.

“You gon’ let me do that, baby?..Can I play with this pretty pussy?..”

the lewd question sending pangs throughout the pit of your belly. You didn’t even hesitate to provide him an answer and before you knew it, he was ripping out the seat of those tights and peeling your panties back. As he suspected, you were dripping. He just knew you’d be some pressure but this was his first bit of confirmation. As you sat idly on his lap, Ony began to toy around with your cunt. Brushing ever so slightly over that clit and running his finger pads along your folds and lips..it was so sticky and he was certain that it tasted even better. A theory he’d put to the test soon enough. However, at the moment, he just wanted to get you stimulated. He wanted to see those cute little reactions when he rubbed on your aching bud and teased it over your hole. Your arm clenched around the back of his neck as you held on for leverage. You’d watch his every move. Following his pace step for step and it was agonizing to see him going so slowly. You needed him to do his worst already!

“Mmm…I knew this shit was gon’ be wet but damn..look at my fingers already and I ain’t even stuck ‘em in..”

referring to the copious amounts of slick coating the tips as he swiped up and down. Over the sound of the crisp air blowing from the vents, he could hear your stirred up secretions, only growing by the minute. And of course, those cute little moans escaping your throat. “Ony…fuck.” “Oh you like that, huh? Like when I play in this pretty hole, don’t you, mama?” All but rhetorically questioning when he finally decided to plunge his middle and index inside simultaneously; nearly making you come undone right there. You couldn’t even elicit a response until he gained a rhythm and slowly worked you over. A single strand of drool seeped from your lips as he gently thrusted those digits back and forth. He could sense just how tight you were from his digits alone. The anticipation to be inside of you was growing stronger. But for now, he’d hide his time and focus solely on your pleasure. Those gentle brown eyes were fluttering and had even rolled back whilst you rolled your hips in a circular motion to meet his movements while incoherent babble left your mouth. But that wouldn’t suffice..he needed to hear you say it.

“Unt uh..use your words, baby. I need to know I’m making you feel good..” and alas, he’d get his answer when he sped up his pace and clutched a hand around your throat. Squeezing ever so slightly to garner his desired reaction. Ony wouldn’t consider himself to be super dominant by any means but he loved taking control to show his girl she had nothing to worry about.

“Y-yeah, daddy. It feels so fucking good.” The name slipping out casually as you pounced up and down on those two fingers. You’d felt a slight tinge of embarrassment but Ony on the other hand? Felt empowered. He never really cared for the term but hearing you utter it with those mellifluous moans, he was reconsidering! In fact, he needed to hear it again. “That’s my good girl…here, lemme take this off too.” Referencing your tube top that had been housing those ample breasts and concealed under your sweater at the restaurant. For now though, he wanted to see his gifts unwrapped. “Fuck..these big ass titties so pretty, baby. I love the way they sit up..”

it was then that he’d bury his face between them and alternate between each one’s nipple while his fingers remained nestled inside of that warmth. They’d slowly work around, twisting until they prodded your g-spot and his tongue swirled those brown buds, lapping and licking. A combination of the stimulating movements had caused you to make quite the mess of his leg with creamy juices spilling forth. You were squirming, becoming restless and in need of an orgasm already. But Ony was enjoying this far more than he should and couldn’t be vexed to stop right now.

“You so fucking pretty, baby. I swear I be so happy when you’re around..”

doting on you constantly whilst working over your sweet spot. He could tell just how excited you had become, just by the way you writhed and squealed as well. In truth, you’d never been in a situation quite like this one. You look so salacious yet so innocent and it wasn’t something that was lost on Ony. In fact, he wanted to further exploit it..

“Open that mouth..” the command followed by you promptly obeying and him gliding those same digits that were just inside of you onto your tongue. It was such a cute sight..watching you suckle on his fingers with those brown doe eyes fixated on him. This was something that he could never grow tired of..reducing his pretty little best friend to his adorable slut! You’d whimper heavily around those digits, moaning and still rutting yourself against his exposed upper thigh. Meanwhile, he was pushing those digits in and out, even getting you to gag and drool a bit from the movements. “Fuck…there you go. Suck them fingers, baby. Taste that pretty pussy f’r me. Yeah, you know your shit good. Fine ass..” which prompted you to giggle. It wasn’t a compliment you received often and honestly, you never doubted that you were beautiful but it was something about him affirming you that made your heart flutter. Suddenly, his low drawl ascended a half a pitch higher when you’d snake your smaller hand into his shorts. You’d continue to be pacified on his fingers whilst jerking him off. You were inconsolable and when you noticed that very visible tent in his bottoms, you had to move.

“Oh my gosh—shit…keep playing wit’ it, just like that…stroke that fucking dick..” growling as he forced his digits a little more down your throat; depressing your tongue along the way and causing you to keep emitting drool. Which served as the perfect lubricant to his already leaking cock. “Mmmm…Ony. Need you to fuck me..” “..you want this dick, baby?” Neither of you could take much more of this teasing and when he’d utter the fateful question, asking if you wanted to go further, you didn’t even hesitate. Despite never being intimate with a man prior. Your only partners were women or your lovely assortment of toys that you’d stashed away in your dresser. Honestly, with your arsenal..you saw little to no need to even entertain these dudes. Any feeling or sensation they could bring forth, your Rose Toy and Bad Dragon could replicate times ten! However, it was something about Ony and the way he made you feel. Not just in an erotic sense, but an emotional one as well. You felt so safe and comfortable in his presence, that it only felt natural to submit. He brought forth your feminine energy and allowed you to thrive in it.

“Here, lay down f’r me, mama. Just like that..and keep them legs spread.”

upon giving you instructions, he’d long since removed you from his lap and allowed you lie flat against the mattress; just awaiting his next move. Your tits were still sitting up, spilled out of the tube top, shuffled around your belly..and those sheer fishnets were as good as torn. It was such a sexy view, that Ony didn’t even want to undress you. However, he stripped all of his clothing down and immediately joined you back on the bed. He’d hover above you with his shaft in hand, stroking slowly. The expression on your face told it all…and he couldn’t help but to laugh. “What’s wrong, baby? You look nervous.” To which all you could do was swallow the lump in your throat. Granted, you didn’t know what an actual human’s length was supposed to look like but from the girth of his and how nearly reached the end of his thigh, nervous was an understatement. What if you couldn’t handle it? What if you embarrassed yourself?!..

“Well don’t be..you know imma take my time witchu’..I been waiting on this a long time.” Whispering to you as he leaned down and met your gaze with warm eyes and gentle smile. Brushing your cheek with that cock still in his opposite palm, he’d place small kisses atop your forehead and eventually your lips. “You just tell me what I need to do..this is yours now. I wanna make you feel good..” but it was a given, blatantly obvious even at this point. You needed every last part and inch of him..with your reassurance, he asked once more if it were okay to keep going and you’d grant him permission with a palm of your own to the side of his face..whispering to him to put it inside of you. Cooing with sweet nothings and whiny breaths, (y/n) begged Ony to fulfill your wish and it wasn’t long before your eyes went wide and your face went flush..

“Oh God—“ “Fuck…”

in that moment, the sounds of squelching flesh, along with breathy gasps emitted into the room. The two of you clashed and joined as one, right there on the crisp sheets of that king bed. The first few inches of his cock embedded deep between your warm, massaging walls and it was a sensation that could only be described as euphoric. Your legs instinctively coiled his waist, your hands to the sides of his head and his arms on either side of your body. Lying there, awaiting his next move. But alas, he had to regain his composure. Out of fear of sounding a bit too egregious, he’d keep his thoughts to himself but you were most certainly the best pussy he’d ever felt and he hadn’t even made his first thrust! Even so, Ony released a deep grunt and focused his attention back to your pretty face. “You good, baby?..Can I start moving?” This question required a bit more consideration, as you need time to adjust. That initial feeling brought forth a pleasurable yet slightly painful feeling..you didn’t make it a point to disclose to him that you were technically a ‘virgin’..but seeing as how it wasn’t the very first time you’d felt penetration, you didn’t feel it important. Besides, at that very moment. None of the proverbial details really made a difference. All that mattered was that the two of you were comfortably, willing and all ready to take this next step. And after a moment of quick breaths and whimpers, you’d instruct him to keep moving. In which he’d make one full thrust in and out..

“Agghhh…fuck..there we go, baby. In and out..” eventually, you’d fall into a rhythm of kisses that mimicked his thrusts..each one slower than the last but full nonetheless. This was so you could get acclimated with the shape and size of his member. It was a bit much and by the expression on your face, Ony knew he couldn’t start out drilling your shit!..as badly as he wanted to..

“Yeah..you takin’ my dick so good, baby..you feel so warm..” doting on you whilst your tongues swished around one another’s mouths. Sloppy, wet and steamy; an ideal combination. Coupled with that of the slow, deep thrusts in and out of your tight cunt. One thing that you loved about him was that he wasn’t afraid to be vocal. He didn’t shy from the fact that he was feeling good and wanted everyone to know. “Mmmm…Onyyyy…” “I know, mama. I know..” it went without saying, you were certainly enjoying this and he’d do everything he could to make the situation the best he could. Keeping you reigned in close to his chest, Ony persisted with his thrusts, trying to slowly get you to conform to his shape and so far, it was working.

“There you go, baby. Open that shit up..lemme have it.” Soon, the sounds of thumping and smacking began to fill the atmosphere and you’d feel those strokes become a little faster. It was then that you’d feel the swollen tip of that girthy cock not only stretching you out but precisely hitting your spot as well. Once he knew this was your sought after core, he’d hone in on it and pound away with precise thrusts; even rolling his hips and reaching a hand down to massage your clit. You’d have a moment where you’d falter and that, along with those beautiful eyes rolled back. “Fuck!..f-fuck..yes!” However, he thrived off the satisfaction of seeing your expressions and how they shifted, the deeper he got.

“Unt uh..eyes up here. Lemme see that pretty face while I fuck you..gimme that pussy, baby. Yes..”

You found his commands so sexy and soothing. His voice was soft yet stern and you felt comforted by his tone. It was no wonder that you’d become nearly entranced by him. The smacking sounds only grew louder and that was thanks to the fact that you were a dripping puddle between your thighs. Pearly white secretions leaking everywhere, even coating his shaft entirely and making quite the mess. In one fell swoop, Ony shifted from cradling you to his own body, to pinning your legs to the mattress and spreading you wide open. From this angle, he’d have an ideal view of those voluptuous tits bouncing each time he thrusted. Or just how that plump cunt looked swallowing his cock.

“Oooh..you creaming all over my dick, baby…shit’s so fucking sexy. You like the way this shit feels?” “Y-yes, daddy. Thank you, thank you!—“ declaring so with his thumb pad rolling on your clit and a long trail of saliva coating your lips. He didn’t relent, even when you’d squeeze down on him. It was every bit of eight inches and you’d nearly taken all of it at this point..you couldn’t believe it. “I just knew your shit was good..knew this pussy was the best just by looking at you.”

which made the both of you break into a slight giggle. But you certainly had help getting to this point. This was a newfound sensation and your body was reacting accordingly.

“You bring it out of me..fucking me like this—“ the incoherent babble was followed by something that would only further prove his point. When he’d keep gliding back and forth, speeding up his movements..that’s when it happened…

“Oh shit!—“ “AHH!! FUCK!…” as you’d whimper and cry out, even pawing at his abs as those streams of juices began to spill out and hit not only the linen underneath but his torso as well. Marking his decadent skin with splashes of your liquid. He’d never seen and you’d never experienced anything like it!

“..look at you squirting on that dick, baby...” although you were beginning to feel depleted, your body craved more of him. You wanted to keep going until either of you could move another inch. A wish that would soon come to fruition when you felt Ony’s thrusts become a bit more sporadic and off rhythm. He’d begin to falter, falling prey to your sex. Admittedly, it’d been ages since he’d had sex or a proper orgasm to boot but you were on a whole other playing field! The plush of those thighs, the ripple of that pudgy tummy and big tits, not to mention, the warmth of your wet hole…it was simply too much for him to fathom!

“Onyyyy!..” the louder you cried out, clawing into his skin; albeit his back or his abdomen, the more motivated he became to give you the most pleasure he could possibly help you attain. Even so, he’d make certain of your well-being all throughout. Asking if you were okay to keep moving..not doing so without explicit instructions and checking constantly to see if your expressions matched your sounds. He only wanted tears brought forth from joy and ecstasy, not pain. But the smile plastered on your face was pretty indicative of how good you felt! “Haaa..yeah, baby. I’m right here—tell me what you need…”

clinging to the last semblance of dominance he could muster, Ony slowed his pace down back to the original and held you close once more. He needed it..not just your body, but you in your entirety. He needed to hear you say that he was the one that you desired…that he could officially be your special person and never let you go for as long as he lived. It was all he had wanted, since the day he first cast eyes on you. When he first saw you in those shirts and sweats with his favorite series on it and when he first saw you in those cosplays. It was a moment that he not only wanted to remember but keep reliving. He wanted what the two of you had to last for an eternity…“..I love you....” the words sending your heart fluttering like butterflies in a garden. It was all you had been waiting to hear come from his mouth. Ony thought he’d never truly be able to utter the phrase and it has substantial weight behind it but now, he’d found his one and only who made the words come to life.

“I love you too, Ony…” so with a gentle stroke of your fingers to the side of his face, right there in that hotel room…the two of you consummated what had long since been established. The feelings of adoration for one another that could not be contained. It wasn’t long before either of you would reach your peak and before long, he was heaving and holding onto you with the last remnants of his strength.

“..come. Come for me, Ony…come in me..”

With that, you’d answer his earlier question and he’d have no problem fulfilling your request! He’d spotted you taking your birth control pills once you returned from dinner so any qualms he had dissipated. “I’m coming!…imma nut—“ veins bulge from his forehead and hands as he continues rutting into you. Ony’s fingertips grasped the headboard behind you and would serve as his balance as every ounce of his warm seed began to trickle into your inviting womb..you’d both reach that climatic peak together and following your stream of sexual secretions, was a trail of joyous tears shrouding your faces. Heavy gasps and breathless whimpers escaped your throats before you collapsed into one another’s arms. Once you were both back in the realm of reality, lying underneath him, (y/n) didn’t waste another moment before pulling him into a searing, passionate kiss. One that neither of you wanted to break.

but alas, your gazes would meet and you’d break into a fit of light chuckles.

“How you feel? You good?”

“Oh I’m just fine…are you good?”

poking fun at one another’s reactions in that final moment of ecstasy. But you were both feeling quite well after that. And you wanted nothing more than to keep reveling in it but tomorrow the big day awaited and you both needed rest…

“I’m straight…I mean, shit…you put it on me for real..where you learn to do them lil’ tricks at?” Referring to your earlier display of waterworks but you’d have to tease him once. “A lady never reveals her secrets..” you’d tease back, pursing a finger to his lips before he’d slowly began to pull out, dragging a string of pearlescent cum along with him and splattering a bit on your tummy on the way out. “Besides, I gotta finish your outfit before I fall asleep—“ “Unt uh…you ain’t getting up until you drink sum’ and wipe off. I can get you some snacks from downstairs too.” That’s when he’d roll over and crawl out of the bed, going over to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth and some water from the mini fridge adjacent to the foot of the mattress. He wasn’t going to let you up until he made certain you could handle it. That was Ony’s overprotective nature for you. But it came from nothing but the purest intentions.

“That is not necessary. I’ll be fine.” “Yeah, but you my girl…and imma always take care of you. So hush.” Kissing your forehead ever so gently before sitting at your side and running that rag over your skin. It felt quite nice and you were glad he made you rest for a moment because your body had been through a foreign experience and he made every single second of it magical…you knew that you wanted to create more memories like this with him for as long as possible. Albeit a convention, a date or even kicking it at his place as you watched him play video games. You just wanted to remain in his presence and remain his girl forever.

“Aye, you gone let me sleep in the wet spot?..I wanna stay cool tonight.”

“..Ony, get away from me, please.”

even if he did work the last good nerve you had sometimes!

748 notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 3 months ago

Text

AGORA HILLS- JOSH WASHINGTON

pairing: bestfriend!josh x onlyfans!reader

word count: idkk sorry i wrote this in one sitting in the app

summary: the whole group thinks you're an innocent angel, but josh found your little secret account on onlyfans a few weeks earlier. little do you know, he wants to be a feature.

warning: IMPLIED SMUT (like they basically do it oki), fingering, praise, dumbifaction, swearing, petnames, size kink, manhandling, mocking/ teasing, filmed sexual activity

not spell checked im sorry if theres any mistakes!

"boy, you're the one, you're the only man/ me and you on my OnlyFans/ holy cow, you're the holy trin'/ hold me down when a hole need dick"- doja cat, agora hills

josh felt like a complete and total pervert.

he couldn't help but let his gaze linger as he stared at you from across the room. he was undressing you with his eyes, leaving every trace of you vulnerable, despite your clothes still being on, trying to ignore him and focus on the rest of the group.

it was late in the night, everyone sitting around the fire in the lodge, warming themselves before bed. drinks had been passed around, some blunts smoked here and there.

but he was high off of the info he had about you. and you didn't even know- and it was killing him.

josh's attraction had been bubbling up for quite some time, and he couldn't help but think you wanted him too. a sweet, innocent, naive girl, too scared to hurt a fly- you often became flustered at his comments and flirty remarks. with you- he wasn't even trying to be funny, or witty.

he was so fucking truthful when he always whistled at you, giving your hip a gentle pat as he'd put his arm around you from behind. pipsqueak was your name, because he was so much bigger then you.

everyone was.

but as sexual secrets were being passed around, and you claimed you had none, everyone teasing you- he knew that wasn't true. he was scrolling only fans as one did on a late friday night after smoking- and he had stumbled across something that made his heart drop, his dick get even harder.

it was you- though you didnt show your face, he could tell just from your body it was you. the body he fantasized over for so many nights, here- in front of him.

and just his luck, you were letting people join for free on this one night. it was fate. clicking on yoru profile, he skimmed through all your content, few things- as it looked like you had started not too long ago.

he couldn't help but touch himself as he stared at your naked mirror selfies, or little skirts, and if he was lucky- a video of you touching yourself with your skirt hiked up.

the skirt you wore now was the same on in that video. he watched as you hid your face in embrassment at everyones teasing, and couldnt help but let his lips curl up into a smirk.

"fine, if you havent done anything, do you at least like someone?" you murmered somethin lowly, turning your head towards the fire.

"what was that pipsqueak?" he taunted, his long leg reaching over to nudge your leg. "do i have to?"

"yes bitch! we all spilled, you gotta give us something here."

you took a breath, eyes catching his for a split second. "i like josh."

"ayooo i knew it!" mike grinned cheekly, looking over at josh. "we all knew that." jess teased, nudging your arm.

"don't hold that over my head please." you begged at josh and he winked. "everything is over your head baby." he teased and you groaned.

"alright. well just cause i said that, i deserve a hot shower before bed. goodnight gang." you stood up, giving the group a little salute before turning in the wrong direction.

"wrong direction pips." josh called, making the others laugh. he had to come and direct you, turning you the other way, his hand rubbing little circles on your back, fingers slipping under your shirt.

he was warm and you couldnt help but lean into him as he waved goodnight to the group, throwing them a wink as he guided you down the hall to your room.

"so you like me, hm?"

"that was a drunk thought." you sputtered out as he guided you futher from the group.

"you've had two drinks and a puff of my blunt. you're sober baby."

"whatever.." you mumbled under your breath, making him chuckle. you bit your lip as his hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers stretching down to brush the curve of your ass.

god you wanted him. it was fucking killing you, and him. his cock strained against his jeans, and he wasnt sure how much longer he could wait.

it was like a leash had snapped, when you had admitted to having a crush on him, and even that you wanted to fuck him. he had all the conformation he needed.

"you stumbled into the empty bedroom and he turned the lock, walking over to you- making you stumble back and hit the edge of the bed.

"so you wanna fuck me? is that it?"

"dont taunt me." you moaned softly, fingers gripping the sheets subtly.

"im not trying to taunt you baby, you know i just joke. but you really want me to fuck you? i thought you were miss innocent?" he toyed, leaning down enough to make you go down on your elbows. he bit his lip, eyes tracing your cleavage through your top. your breath went shallow.

"i am joshy i swear."

"really miss pornstar?" you froze.

"i'm not a pornstar joshy dont be silly." his eyebrow cocked, and he leaned close enough you were pratically smuthered by his large frame, tounge darting out to lap at your neck.

"is that so misskittycat?" you moaned as he nipped your neck, teeth biting the skin playfully.

"i dont know what your talking about.."

"you touch yourself so pretty baby. ya know i touched myself to that? it was so much better then in my head. such a pretty pussy." he hummed.

"maybe you can show me how you touch yourself so i can, yeah?"

at this point, you were putty. you couldnt hold up the innocent act any longer. youd do anythng he'd ask, and do it happily.

"i think about you when i do it." you confessed, and he chuckled deeply.

"yeah? you wanna say that to the camera sweetheart?" you turned, seeing an old camcorder opened on the dresser.

"wh-"

"dont worry, its not on. just had it here from a few trips ago. did you want me to turn it on?"

your eyes widdened. "d-did you want to?"

"i asked you the question pips." he smiled as he placed his large hands on your hips, fingers brushing your skin and making you dizzy/

"w-we could film ah- content if you want.."

"yeah?" his voice dropped, and you felt yourself swoon as he kissed you gently, slipping his tounge in your mouth faster then you could think. "yeah" you moaned out as he moved his hands down to push your legs open.

he broke the kiss, reaching over with ease to click the camera on, and you watched as the little red light started to blink. "we're rolling honey. but its just you and me okay? just focus- hey- focus on me okay?" he gripped your chin and guided your gaze back to him. you dumbly nodded, leaning into his touch.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, guiding your hand down to touch your soaked panties. you nodded.

"why dont you show me how you touch yourself baby? so i do it just how you like." you felt heat rise in your cheeks, limbs tingely as you dipped your hands down your panties.

"cmon show the camera baby." he manhandled you, picking you up with ease to turn you around, tugging your panties to the side. you shamelessly dipped your finger inside, moaning softly as you curled it.

"oh yeah like that?" he teased, finger darting up to rub your clit. you squrimed at the pressure he applied, rubbing slow gentle circles. "y-yes fuck joshy"

"oh dont get shy on me now." he laughed, taking your finger out to replace it with his own. you let out a gasp, a look of surprise on your face at the larger sensation, his fingers reaching spots you didnt even know fingers could reach.

"oh i know baby, its so much bigger then yours hm?" his fingers curled and you bowed, letting out a loud moan as you squirmed again. his dirty talk had your head going empty like static on an old tv.

"yeah baby im gonna take such good care of you."

#josh washington #josh washington smut #joshua washington #josh until dawn #until dawn josh #josh washington x reader #josh washington imagines #josh washington x you #until dawn fanart #until dawn #until dawn remake #until dawn remaster #sam until dawn #until dawn 2 #rami malek #rami malek x reader

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rinsoap · 7 months ago

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THEM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

includes : ken ryuguji and baji keisuke. they are in their late teens/early 20s.

note : UR WELCOME TO THE FOURTEEN REQS IN MY INBOX BEGGING FOR BAJI CONTENT! i was gonna write mitsuya and mikey but i got tired lol

ken ryuguji as your boyfriend.

he loves taking you out on his bike. he likes how you hold him so tightly, and he likes the feeling of your cheek pressed against his back. when you first asked him, he was a little wary at first because he was kind of scared you might get hurt, but who was he to say no to his girl?

the girls at the brothel fucking love you. you exchange makeup tips and self care remedies, they pinch your cheek and tell you how cute you are. "hi love, what are you doing here looking so pretty!? ain't she pretty, kenny? yeahh he thinks so, look at him, he's blushing" "'course i think she's pretty, i'm the one dating her" oh and they love to give you life advice too; men, money, independance, all of it. draken is embarassed by how they act, but you think it's sweet.

he hates being posted to your socials. he's cool with it if his face isn't in the picture, but he values his privacy. his own social media presence is practically nonexistent, other than one highlight with one story from your birthday of you holding flowers he got you. the song he posted to you is my girl by the temptations.

though he likes his privacy, he does like pda. not intense pda, it's not like y'all have your tongues down each other's throats in public or anything, but he likes a lil kiss here n there. his arm around your waist, or your fingers intertwined with his. a kiss on your shoulder, and always one on your lips before you part. and while he doesn’t typically like to make a scene, when he misses you its a whole different story. he loves when you run to him when you see him after being away from each other for far too long, throwing your arms around his shoulders and his wrap around your waist to spin you around, peppering the side of your face with kisses as you tell him how much you missed him through giggles. "missed you too, angel," a kiss on your jaw. "i'm sorry i've been so busy lately," a kiss on your cheek "'m gonna make it up to you though, i promise." a kiss on your lips. yeah, it's that kind of pda.

he will call you so many pet names, it's not even funny. they're out of his mouth before he even realizes it. it's not like he hides his loving side exactly, it's just that with you, he gets to be a whole other type of gushy. his friends make fun of him whenever they get a glimpse of his softer side when he speaks to you, but he does not care!!! he'll never stop calling you his pretty princess or kissing your cheek or holding all your bags when you go shopping just because his friends think he's whipped. he would happily admit that they're right!!

baji keisuke as your boyfriend.

he may come across as cold, but make no mistake, physical touch is his love language. he always finds himself gravitating to touching you, even in public. whether he's holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder or tracing hearts and stars into the skin of your thigh, he just wants to touch you!!! in private, it is so much more egregious. he'll be on top of you, attacking you with kisses, hands roaming over your skin. he loves when you sleep over because then he can extend his time to cuddle with you. he likes little spoon and big spoon equally, he just wants SOMEONE to be held!!!

he has and will fight someone for you, absolutely no question. he doesn't exactly get jealous, you express how much you love him enough for him to have interalized it, but he does let a threat or two slip out when a man's flirting with you right in front of him. when someone is being creepy to you, yes, he has been known to throw a couple punches. he'll stop when you ask!! its not like he's batshit!!!! when he's finished, you tend to his wounds. muttering about how stupid he is but giving him a kiss to his temple.

he knows how obsessed you are with his hair. he watches you from the corner of his eye, staring lip tucked between your teeth as he puts it up. he complains, but he secretly loves it. "man you treat me like some slut" "true i'm just using you for your hair. one day you'll wake up bald and i'll be half way across the country with a ziploc bag full of your beautiful hair" "i hate you" he loves lying on top of you, cheek pressed against your chest as you run your fingers through your hair. he always ends up mumbling how much he loves you when your fingers find their way into his hair. he also lets you play around with different hairstyles too! his favourite will always be a half up half down moment :p

he calls you bro more than actual pet names tbh. generally, he doesn't use a lot of pet names because he'd rather call you by your name, but when he's being extra sweet or when he's tired, he'll use them. you love how cute he is when he's about to fall asleep, he starts going on and on about how much he loves his pretty girl. "soo sweet to me, love you soo much... my lovely girl... my love" he'll whisper into your neck, not even knowing exactly what he's saying himself as his eyes slowly flutter shut. when he's in a good mood he'll greet you with a lil "hey baby" or "hello perfect beautiful girlfriend" bc he's annoying like that 😞

he can ALWAYS tell when something is wrong. a clench of your jaw or a slight falter in your eyes, he immediately knows. he'll ask about it as soon as he picks up on it. he's surprisingly very good at comforting. he'll listen as long as you need him to, he'll give you a temple kiss, a gesture that quickly became a sign of love and understanding in your relationship. he'll kiss you on one, then the other, and add "to ease your mind." and you laugh because it's corny, and he rolls his eyes and claims he's never doing a nice thing for you again, but he grabs your hand to take you out to eat because he knows food is the best comfort.

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seoltzuki · 5 months ago

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nyc baby!

mina x fem reader

fluff, suggestive

gentle, fleeting, free, adoring, just wondering what life would be like as lovers in a normal world

a/n: self-indulgent bc nyc is a place i adore very much and i'm convinced that in my future life i belong there with my future lover xx (also title stolen from an old work of mine that was with seulgi instead)

Would we be happier in another normal life?

Mina sighs happily as she finishes up the New York Times mini crossword. She’s been on a roll with these ever since you landed, even sending you a screenshot during her Boucheron event.

You’re just about to slip out of bed to grab bagels from across the street when she suddenly whines, grabbing your arm and pulling you back with a pout.

“Needy,” you tease, sinking back into the sheets.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully. “Funny coming from you. Don’t you remember last night?”

“You mean a couple of hours ago?” you reply, grinning. “I don’t think I was the needy one—you’ve left a number on me,” you say, pointing to the faint red marks on your neck.

Mina’s cheeks flush pink as she fumbles for a defense. "Well, it’s your fault," she mutters. "You sent me that picture while I was at the event."

You laugh softly. "It was literally just a good night selfie."

She groans, burying her face in the pillow. "You were in your robe, looking all cozy and good! What did you expect?"

You grin, leaning closer. "So, you admit it—you were the needy one after all."

Mina peeks out from the pillow, her cheeks flushed as she grins mischievously. “Fine, maybe I was,” she admits, her voice low and teasing. “It’s hard to control myself when my girl always looks this good.”

Her words send a rush through you, and before you can think, your lips are on hers. The kiss starts soft, but her fingers are already tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. The warmth of her mouth deepens the kiss, and soon, everything else fades away as you melt into her.

She shifts beneath you, tugging you on top of her as the kiss becomes more intense, her hands roaming over your back, making it hard to focus on anything but her touch.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your foreheads rest together, a grin spreading across your face. “I guess the bagels can wait.”

Mina laughs softly, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Definitely worth waiting for.”

~~~

After breakfast, the two of you wandered over to Bryant Park, sipping coffee beneath the trees, watching the city hum with life.

You spent the next hour window shopping along Fifth Avenue, admiring the elegant displays without any pressure to buy. There was only so much you could bring back home, but Mina’s eyes sparkled at every storefront, and you found yourself more captivated by her excitement than anything in the windows.

Now, you’re strolling through Central Park, hand in hand, the noise of the city fading away as you walk the winding paths. The soft rustle of leaves and distant laughter blend into the air as Mina leans into you, her arm wrapped around yours.

“So, you still want to head to DUMBO for the bridge view, right?” you ask, glancing at Mina over your sunglasses.

Her face lights up instantly. “Yes! Let’s call a taxi,” she says, already reaching for her phone.

“No way! Let’s do this right—let’s take the subway. The real New York experience.”

Mina hesitates, her excitement shifting to uncertainty as she raises an eyebrow. “The subway?” she repeats, a little unsure.

You give her hand a reassuring squeeze, so excited for the trip. “Yes! Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

She lets out a soft sigh, still unconvinced, but seeing the sparkle in your eyes, she can’t help but smile. “Fine,” she agrees, stepping closer. Her arm wraps around your waist, fingers lingering on your hip. “But only because you seem so into it,” she murmurs, pressing herself against your side, her warmth seeping into you.

You chuckle, your hand sliding to her lower back, pulling her in even tighter. “I promise, you won’t regret it.” You lean in, brushing a light kiss against her cheek.

~~~

The subway car sways gently as it rumbles along, packed with commuters and tourists. You and Mina are squeezed together in a corner, her warmth pressed against your side. Around you, the chaos of the subway unfolds: someone is doing chin-ups on the railing, drawing a few amused glances, while others are asleep in their seats or lost in music blaring from their speakers.

Mina leans in closer, her voice a whisper. “They’re staring at us.”

You glance up and muffle a laugh. “That’s because you’re staring at them, baby. Your sunglasses are see-through.”

Her cheeks flush with a hint of embarrassment as she quickly looks away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shit! I didn’t mean to,” she hushes.

You give another glance at the two people across from you and something catches your eye. You squint and notice keychains with photocards. And that’s… Nayeon’s face?

"Onces…" you whisper to yourself, holding on to Mina’s hand tighter.

Just before you can tell Mina that they’re fans, she gasps and points at the window of the doors. You smile, enchanted by her reaction. She’s so cute as she admires the view of the city through the subway doors, as you pass over the Brooklyn Bridge. The contrast from the underground darkness to the stunning sunset hovering over the skyline is breathtaking.

"Baby, look! It’s beautiful!" She exclaims, hand over her mouth as she shakes you a little.

You sigh and nod, pushing your worries away. "It’s very pretty."

~~~

Later, you find yourselves sitting on a bench at Brooklyn Bridge Park, the quiet hum of the city settling around you like a soft blanket. The lights from the skyscrapers flicker in the distance, casting reflections on the calm waters.

Mina sits close, but you can sense something’s off. She’s fidgeting with her hands, her fingers twisting together in a nervous rhythm. You glance at her, about to ask what’s on her mind, but before you can speak, she breaks the silence.

“Do you think we’d be happier in another life? A normal one?”

You frown, confused. “What?”

She hesitates for a second, looking down at her hands before continuing. “I just… I wonder what it’d be like to live a normal life. Not an idol. No eyes on us all the time.” Her voice softens, tinged with a sadness you rarely hear. “I knew those people in the subway recognized me. I could see it in their faces. And I saw how you tensed up, too.”

You shift uncomfortably, realizing she had noticed your own worry.

She sighs, her gaze drifting out over the city. “I just wonder if things would be easier, better, without the spotlight. Without everyone always watching.”

You stay quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in as the city hums in the background. The weight of what she’s feeling lingers between you, heavy and familiar. You reach over and gently take her fidgeting hands in yours, giving them a soft squeeze.

“Mina,” you say quietly, your voice steady, “I know it’s hard. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is watching. But I don’t think another life would make us happier.”

She turns her head slightly, her eyes searching yours, but you continue before she can say anything.

“You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and yeah, it comes with all this pressure, but it also brought so much joy. To you, to your fans, and to me.” You offer her a small smile. “You’re not just an idol. You’re you. And even though people recognize you, that doesn’t mean you can’t find peace or moments like this.”

Her expression softens, though the hint of doubt still lingers in her eyes.

“I know it’s not easy,” you continue, brushing a thumb across her hand, “but I wouldn’t trade this life with you for anything.”

Mina blinks, her eyes glassy as she bites her lip. She leans in, resting her head on your shoulder, her breath steadying. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “We’ve got each other. And no matter what, we’ll find our own kind of normal.”

I love you so much.

Mina squeezes your hand back, her fidgeting finally stopping as the tension melts away.

After a few more moments of peace, you nudge her gently. “Pizza?”

She lifts her head, blinking up at you before a small laugh escapes her lips. “Yeah,” she says softly, a smile finally breaking through. “Pizza sounds perfect.”

“And we’re definitely trying pineapple on it this time,” you add with a grin.

She scrunches her nose, groaning playfully. “Ugh, yuck… Fine, baby. But only because it’s you.”

"Yes! NYC baby!"

#twice x reader #twice imagines #twice scenarios #kpop imagines #twice smut #gg x reader #gg imagines #mina x reader

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cinnahoons · 11 months ago

Text

three shots, lemon drops

idol!sim jake x fem!reader; wc 3.0k; genres fluff, established relationship; warnings suggestive!! they make out, mentions of alcohol, v touchy a/n ib twitter shenanigans regarding jake on live but i'm a slow writer so this is late! oops

Jake is pushing it.

He’s situated in front of the camera he’d set up, swaying around in his chair as he watches comments sprint across the screen, including a barrage of messages like Hello from the Philippines! and blink if you see this. He’d taken to Weverse tonight, dragging you into a little studio with him the second he’d arrived at the company building, and suddenly the warning text that Jay had sent you thirty minutes ago started making a lot more sense.

Jake leans closer to the screen as you sit on a couch behind his camera, his lip becoming trapped between his teeth in concentration. You sigh, already imagining the thousands of messages flooding in, no doubt fawning over your boyfriend’s tendency to appear maddeningly kissable.

“Jake, I love your lips,” he reads out, leaning back into his chair with an amused smile playing at his mouth. He lifts a hand, strong fingers coming up to rub softly at the rosy skin he’d been chewing at. “My lips?”

You have to suppress a snort at the obvious fanservice, ignoring the irritation that starts to claw at your gut. You’re used to this—the flirting, the bold advancements on the part of his fans, his reciprocation. It is his job after all, to sell the fantasy. And you know he enjoys it, finds genuine hilarity and fondness in being able to make his fan’s days. It’s never really bothered you, because you’re secure enough in yourself and in your relationship with Jake, despite it being a secret to the public, that it doesn’t keep you awake at night to know he spends his time making other girls believe they have a chance.

Besides, they might know how it feels to flirt with him, but only one person knows the smell of his bedsheets, the warmth of his skin.

Tonight, though—tonight, it’s getting to you, because you’ve never really had to be in the room to witness any of it. Jake typically goes live when you’re not around, to spare you even though he knows it doesn’t usually bother you. Clearly, him having been dropped off tipsy after his dinner with Jay changed his mind, because he’d insisted that you wait for him while he does his live. You’re mostly trying to make sure he doesn’t say anything he shouldn’t.

There’s a lazy smile on his face, one that quirks up at the corner. His eyes fall on you, sluggishly, like they’d been doing all night. It makes your skin prickle, but you make a motion for him to look back at the camera.

“What’ve you guys been up to?” He asks, running a hand through his rich brown hair. You’re trying to busy yourself as you wait, scrolling on your phone while he talks. But his eyes keep flickering up to you, a little glassy, and surely that must be coming off strange to the viewers. You wonder what they’ll all take to Twitter to rant about tonight—will it be that the company should stop sending in staff to control the members’ every word? You stifle a giggle at the thought.

It’s not funny for long, though, because then Jake keeps talking.

“No, I’m not drunk,” he comments, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He pauses. “Well. Only a little.”

You groan quietly, making wild motions above your head as if to ask him: why would you admit that? He only gives you another look, his lips twitching before he looks back at the camera.

“Sorry, guys, I’m a little distracted.”

“Jake,” you hiss, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough that you won’t be heard over the live. Jake’s mouth slips into a slow smile. He leans back into his chair, the lids of his eyes lowering slightly as he stares at you.

You squirm in your seat on the couch. Something in his gaze is a little dark, a little loopy. Almost like he’s imagining something his brain can’t comprehend in its current state; like if he tried too hard his eyes would cross with desire and he’d probably say something he shouldn’t.

You look down at your phone, trying to get his attention off of you. It works, at least for now. He continues to read comments off the screen.

“You had steak for dinner? Me too,” he murmurs, palm pressed against his face. “Oh, jajangmyeon, nice.”

It goes on like that for a couple more minutes. You think he’s finally settled down, that the little alcohol he’d drunk had finally faded away enough to render him at least slightly sane. The hour keeps ticking away, so much so that you’ve even started thinking about what you’ll make yourself as a snack tonight before bed, and how you’ll be able to work around Jake’s schedule tomorrow to meet up with him for lunch. That is, until:

“What’s distracting me?” Jake chuckles, fixing the sleeve of his brown jacket. “Mmm…if I told you, then you’d know.”

He’s teasing them, riling them up so they’ll spam him with a million questions from a million different girls who want to be the one he confides in. Your gaze flickers up from your phone, watching him carefully.

“Not related to the comeback,” he says, shaking his head a little too seriously. You’re getting the sense that he’s up to something, unsettling you enough to make you put your phone away.

“No, not a staff member,” he chuckles. His voice has a lilt to it, one that gives away that he thinks whatever he’s doing is funny. You stand up from the couch, because he’s started to actively ignore the concern painted on your face. You don’t want to accidentally alarm the viewers, so you try subtly to gain his attention.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, slightly panicked. “Don’t say anything stupid. Your managers are going to kill me.”

Jake finally looks up then, through his lashes. There’s a delightful flush to his cheeks, a playfulness in the way he casually drags his eyes up and down your body. He sucks in a little air through his teeth, his tongue playing at the inside of his cheek as he glances at the screen once more.

“You think it’s Jungwonie? You guys are so funny.”

You tiptoe closer to his camera, not caring that your shadow is now visible on the wall behind him. He’s going to say something.

Jake is grinning now, and then he turns back to you, letting out a long, dragging sigh.

“I’m not into sharing, so you’ll just have to trust me, guys.” He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded. “My girlfriend is hot.”

Your jaw drops.

The rest of your body moves at its own accord. One of your hands reaches over his laptop to clap over the camera, and the other hand presses frantically at some buttons on his keyboard, wasting no time in ending the live. You’re frozen there, body tipped over his setup with your eyes practically bugging out of your skull.

All the while, Jake is leaned back in his chair, a leisurely smirk playing at his lips.

“Don’t look so happy to be mine.”

Your hand falls from its position, and you stare at your boyfriend in shock.

“What the fuck?”

The situation is settling in fast, like a brick to the gut, and you’re already starting to spiral just thinking of the fallout. You ignore Jake’s stupid face, pacing around the room in panic, a hand reaching up to rub against your eyes.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh my god, the company is gonna hang both of us. I should’ve—I should’ve just listened to Jay when he texted me not to let you go live tonight. Jake—” you whirl around, doubling down around the corner of Jake’s desk, walking up to him in anger, “everyone fucking knows now. There’s gonna have to be so much damage control.

Jake only stares at you for a moment, the smirk from earlier faded away. It’s left something darker in its place—a little more raw, a little more real. He shrugs, his eyes boring into yours.

“So what?”

Notifications start going off on both of your phones. Jake silences his without even blinking, but you snatch yours up furiously.

“What do you mean so what? So this,” you grit, holding up your phone. “You think I’m worried about myself or something? We can take the heat from your company, but everything else? That’s only going to you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Silence. Jake takes the phone from your hands gently, switching the ringer off wordlessly. He puts it next to his, seemingly uninterested in any protest on your part (there comes none).

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking up at you from his seat, “that I’ve been wanting to do that ever since my driver dropped me off and I walked in to see you looking like that.” He motions at your outfit, his other hand rubbing small circles into his lips.

“Besides.” A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches out, tugging lightly at your hips, causing you to stumble forward a little. His head rests at your stomach level. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous, baby.”

You blink down at him, shocked, blush spreading across your skin at a furious pace. So he’d noticed it, then, the irritation that you thought you’d hidden well. In fact, he’d been hoping for it. That’s probably why he’d insisted that you wait for him while he went live. He’d really bit the dust as soon as he walked into the HYBE building.

“Jake,” you warn, although there’s no real conviction behind it. You’ve lost all the anger from earlier, replaced by something weak. “This is bad.”

He hums distractedly, dipping his head to mouth at the fabric of your shirt. You can feel the warmth of his lips at your stomach, feel him smiling gently against you.

“Really bad,” he murmurs.

You breathe out slowly, your breath stuttering for no reason other than nerves. Jake looks up at you anyway, the tipsy glimmer to his eyes reflecting your own rosy face. He furrows his brows in a way that makes your heart ache, it’s so adorable.

“You want me to stop?”

You consider it for a moment. The other members, the company, everyone is most definitely trying to get a hold of you both right now. But then you’re looking back at Jake; at the wanton look in his eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head, lowering yourself into his lap without so much as a little sigh. You know you’ll both be getting a mouthful later—but for now, it doesn’t matter.

He smiles at you dazedly, planting firm hands on your hips to keep you steady. He lifts a hand up to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“Need you to say it,” he murmurs.

You lean in, the air escaping your mouths mingling between you.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Jake seals the distance between you instantly, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. For a moment you feel weightless—like it’s just you and him, entwined in midair with nothing but an ache in your lips and sweat beading on your skin. And then he’s moving, his hands sliding down to grasp your thighs as he noses at your jaw, littering kisses down its side and along your neck. He grounds you with the weight of every press of his full lips against your burning skin, and you can’t help but to tangle your fingers in the soft brown locks that sit at the nape of his neck.

“So pretty, baby,” he mumbles against your neck, the low rumble of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms. “Lucky I’m yours.”

A giggle tumbles out of your mouth, soft and earnest, and you can feel Jake’s teeth against your skin as he breaks into a grin.

“Mine,” you singsong, leaning your head back a little as he continues to mouth down towards your collarbone. “And they all know that now.”

Jake snorts.

“And you always tell me it doesn’t bother you when they flirt.”

He lifts his head up a little, moving to the juncture between your jaw and your neck.

“It—doesn’t.” The last part comes out through gritted teeth, because suddenly Jake is sucking a hickey into your skin, color blooming in his wake. You hiccup on a breath, your eyes glassy as he pulls away to survey his work.

“Now you’re gonna be more distracting.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder in shame, heat rushing to your cheeks as he giggles in your ear.

“Since when have I made such terrible decisions?” You whine against the fabric of his shirt, your voice muffled.

He laughs, breathy, swaying you around on his lap.

“Hey, I’ll take the credit for this one.”

Your head shoots up, eyes narrowing as you smack his arm softly.

“Damn right you will. I was talking about letting you drag me into this room in the first place.”

Jake lifts his arms in surrender, a coy smile on his lips. He shrugs, and then he cocks a brow.

“Were you being serious about Jay texting you?”

You nod, fiddling absentmindedly with a button on his shirt.

“He said, and I quote: Be careful about letting Jake go live tonight, he’s extra stupid when he’s tipsy.”

Jake stares at you blankly for a second.

“That fucker.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss against Jake’s cheek. His dramatic act crumbles instantly, a smile forming on his face.

“He was right, though,” you say. The smell of Jake’s cologne drifts up from his neck, your eyelids fluttering helplessly in response.

“Not as right as the angle of my arm when I shove it up his—”

“Okay, stop talking about Jay—” you breathe, shutting your eyes, “and kiss your girlfriend.”

Jake shuts up, fast, one of his hands twitching against your thigh.

“Yes to both,” he replies, the other hand coming up to rest in the hair by your ear, tugging forward gently so your lips are touching. “Top ten words ever spoken, actually.”

He captures your bottom lip with his own, soft and languid. There are a million and one ways you could react to how good he is, but you settle for just touching him, fingers brushing along his neck, rubbing in small circles as he cups your jaw. His teeth scrape lightly against your lip, and you gasp quietly, your jaw falling open just that little bit more—pliant. He takes the chance to lick into your mouth, searing, the palm of his hand warm and strong against your cheek. The hand on your thigh crawls up your hip, slipping under your shirt just enough to rest atop the bone there, moving no further. He thumbs gently at your skin, drawing a low whine from your chest as he continues to kiss you.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow gently, lost in the sensation of your lips slotted against his. There’s a moment where he’s breathing hard against your mouth, having pulled away from you enough to have you panting not barely an inch from his face. His eyes rove over every part of you he can see, down to where you sit on his lap, his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your hips. You have to resist surging forward to kiss him again, momentary embarrassment at your inability to be disconnected from his lips for more than a minute vanishing almost as fast as it came on. You can’t blame yourself—the fans were right, after all, to point out his lips. They’re as soft and capable as they appear on camera, if not more.

A shy smile creeps onto Jake’s face.

“I love you, Y/N. Whatever happens, it was worth it.”

You sigh, a lovesick giggle threatening to jump out of your mouth.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Exist.”

You smile at him, your nose scrunching up as you lean in once more to give him a long, chaste kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

Suddenly, there’s a bang. The door to the studio swings open, revealing a completely unimpressed Jay, his arms crossed over his chest. Jake breaks away from the kiss, and you turn a bewildered head to face the intrusion, your lips raw and glistening from earlier events.

“Thought so. Could you two stop eating each other's faces for a minute so we can go deal with the consequences of your actions?”

You blink in embarrassment, trying to picture the no doubt saucy image of you perched on Jake’s lap looking like you’d just given a vacuum a run for its money. It’s humiliating.

“That’s not—we were just—”

Jay snorts, eyeing your neck with amusement.

“I can see your hickey, Y/N.”

“My bad,” Jake chimes in, a dopey smile on his face. You cast him a sideways glare before turning around again to flash Jay a sheepish grin. He shakes his head.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help against his evils. You’re both equally airheaded.”

“Okay, rude—”

“Just get over to the meeting room already,” Jay interrupts, a sort of fondness underscoring his tone. “The internet is falling apart.”

Jake throws his head back in his chair, groaning, pulling you against his chest in the process.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles into your hair.

“Jake. The media’s already all over this.”

Always the voice of reason, Jay is.

“Fine. One more kiss.”

“Sim Jaeyun,” Sunghoon’s voice screeches from the hallway outside the studio, followed by the loud stomping of his feet. You suspect he’s running.

Jake’s head launches up at a comical speed, you and Jay both laughing at the mildly fearful expression on his face.

“He’s coming,” you call, sliding off his lap onto slightly wobbly legs, reaching out a hand to your boyfriend. He takes it, grumbling.

“Can we just say I was talking about Layla or something?”

“You called me hot.”

“Oh, right,” Jake says, taking your hand softly as he starts for the door. “Definitely not Layla.”

tags! @junityy @hittoki @neos127 @iuwon @tyunni + ty to @/junityy and @4xiaojun for helping me when i was stuck ily guys 💓

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun #enhypen drabbles #jake sim drabble #jake sim fluff #enhypen headcanons

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323cutie · 25 days ago

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10:38 am. | jeong yunho

fluff. 400 words.

a/n im ngl that getting ready with yunho vid made me think of a lovely domestic life with him also i was listening to my man from funny girl a LOT. for whatever my man is, i am his... forevermore

In the mid-morning sun shining through your bathroom window, Yunho looks like an angel. Heaven-yellow and soft, distorted kindly by the blur in your pane.

You think you hear bells. He sways from side to side, lost in the rhythm of whatever song he’s listening to, hair wet and a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Shirtless and still a little pink from the hot shower he took earlier. The steam still clouds the corners of the mirror.

He’s beautiful, and everything you never thought you would get. Everything you never thought you deserved. A vision, a statue, a muse – and when he sees you standing outside the door, he grins (all toothpaste) and pulls you into a bathroom waltz.

It’s hard to contain your laughter, especially when Yunho’s trying to spit into the sink on a sharp spin and you’re slipping off the mat onto the tile. But between giggles and what lyrics you can remember to sing with him, you manage.

The sun lights him up. You think you’d come back every time, no matter what. Devoted and in love. Yunho stops spinning you around enough to take a second and rinse his mouth off, tapping his toothbrush against the edge of the sink.

“Good morning,” he says, turning around to lean against the counter and pull you between his legs. A spot of toothpaste still sits on his cheek, so you lean forward and wipe it away with your thumb, then muss up his wet hair, mostly because you can. He leans into your touch, and it makes you dizzy.

There are a million beautiful flowers blooming within you, ready to spill out and coat Yunho in your love, your praise, your loyalty. You wonder if he knows just how bad he’s got you.

“Morning,” you say for now. You’re wearing one of Yunho’s shirts and he seems to notice right as you remember, fingers playing with the hem and a gorgeous smile tugging at his lips. You melt, and swoon, utterly his.

His eyes grow fonder the longer you look at him, a care so tender if almost makes you want to cry. The world around you crescendos with Yunho’s music, a beautiful refrain to start the beginning of your days; soaked in sunlight and covered in love.

#i just love him #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho imagine #ateez yunho timestamp #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho imagine #jeong yunho timestamp

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yup-thats-me · 1 month ago

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slipping through my fingers • Lee Byung-hun

pairing: husband!Lee Byung-Hun x wife!reader

summary: funny tricks of time; growing old with your husband

warning: growing old, age gap. please, please i beg of you don't think too hard about byung-hun and the reader's ages, please. when I tell you me and my friend had to storm our brains for an hour to calculate their ages. please. also, i suggest you listen to the song while reading this<3

"bye bye, momma!" waved goodbye your little girl. she was in high school now, and you and your husband were grateful that your prized girl was not like most teenagers. she was understanding, gentle.

byung-hun stood beside his wife, eyes on the yellow school bus. "seems like yesterday that she came into this world, doesn't it darling?'' he said as he laid his head on her shoulder.

"Mmm", she nodded. "time is cruel."

it really was. how can it be that your daughter is almost at the age where she'll be leaving home when it barely feels that you've been with your husband for barely two years? oh, at it had been eighteen years when you had met Byung-hun.

Byung-hun was a regular at the cafe y/n worked at. he would go there as soon as he wrapped up filming for the day. from the early days of his acting career, he frequented the cafe but it had only been a few months since the waitress. y/n had joined.

she was so sweet, smiling at everyone, not an ounce of anger or tiredness in her eyes. he knew he was at least twenty years older than the girl but it didn't matter, right?

"can i get your name, sweetheart?"

it'd be a lie if y/n said she didn't feel like melting onto the earth. his voice dripping with honey, his eyes smiling.

"y/n."

that had been their first date. Byung-hun had asked her manager if she could leave early. she of course, agreed. how could anyone would deny Lee Byung-hun anything?

that day was eighteen years ago. how time flies.

Byung-hun kissed his wife goodbye. "when I come back let's go out for a movie? with d/n?" she nodded.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"you ready, sweetheart?"

y/n asked fixing her daughter's veil. her little girl was getting married, she's truly going into the world, with someone she loves, adores.

no words could explain how y/n felt. this is the same girl she had given birth to, her little fingers had wrapped around her thumb so adoringly. so naturally.

it's time for her little girl to hold someone else.

y/n wiped the corners of her eyes, not wanting to let her daughter see her cry. "your father is waiting outside. let's go?" her voice trembling slightly.

Byung-hun stood outside the doors, his mind replaying the old times. it feels like yesterday that he held his daughter for the first time, only yesterday had he heard his little girl call him 'appa' for the first time. oh how he had felt the world around him stop at that moment. he really missed the old times.

when his wife came outside holding his daughter, he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"you look so beautiful, princess." he said hugging his girl.

d/n wiped her tears as well. it felt surreal having her father cry while holding her. "appa, I'm still your little girl. I promise."

y/n patted her husband. the rays of sun falling onto the family, making them look ethereal. after they had composed themselves, y/n softly pushed through the doors of the altar.

she held her daughter's hand, her husband linking his arm with d/n. the music wafted through the venue. some of byung-hun and y/n's friends had tears in their eyes too. to them, d/n was also their beloved girl. time really flies.

when the priest pronounced officially d/n and her lover, y/n had intertwined her arms with her husband. it was much very hard for Byung-hun than her. the man saw his girl as the world, ready to bring the world at her feet. he would become so proud at all of d/n's achievement, no matter small or big. he really was d/n's greatest fanboy.

y/n rested her head against Byung-hun's shoulder, comforting him as d/n and her lover kissed.

beautiful.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"you look so beautiful, my love," came Byung-hun's voice as he handed his wife a cup of coffee as the sat on their porch.

y/n laughed. time had certainly left its marks. "you've been telling me that for the last 35 years, my love."

"and," byung-hun leaned down to kiss y/n's hand. "i would continue to do so till my last breath, sweetheart."

"I love you."

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lazysoulwriter · 1 month ago

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A Whiff of Pedro - Pedro Pascal.

The sun was dipping low behind the skyline, casting long streaks of gold through the windows of the small but cozy apartment. Pedro was stretched out on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his eyes as he scrolled absentmindedly through his phone with the other hand. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on the table in front of him, long since forgotten.

The sound of a key turning in the lock made him glance up. The door swung open, and in she came, a grin plastered across her face and a paper bag clutched tightly in her hands.

"Hola, mi amor," she sang, kicking off her sneakers with a clumsy sort of grace.

"Hey, baby," Pedro replied, sitting up slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious excitement. "What’s got you all giggly?"

She marched into the living room, the paper bag crinkling as she held it up triumphantly. "I got something! You won’t believe it."

Pedro squinted at the bag. "If it’s another houseplant, I swear we’re running out of space."

"No! It’s better," she said, plopping down next to him and pulling out a sleek, black candle jar with a dramatic flourish. She turned it so he could see the label: “Pedro Pascal”. The words were bold, elegant, and completely absurd.

Pedro blinked. "Wait. Is this real?"

"Yup! It’s 100% real," she said, barely containing her laughter. "I saw it in this cute little shop and thought, ‘Well, how could I not buy this?’"

He took the candle from her hands, inspecting it with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "What the hell does ‘Pedro Pascal’ even smell like?"

She smirked. "Only one way to find out."

With a playful flourish, she grabbed a lighter from the coffee table and lit the wick. The flame flickered to life, and within moments, the room was filled with a warm, woodsy scent—a mix of cedar, leather, and something vaguely spicy.

Pedro took a deep inhale and then snorted. "So this is me, huh?"

"Yup. Rugged, mysterious, and… a little spicy."

"They got the spicy part right," he muttered, giving her a sideways glance. "I feel like this is some kind of practical joke. Are you trolling me?"

"Trolling? No! I’m celebrating you," she said, laughing as she nudged him. "You’re a candle now, Papi."

Pedro rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

"And yet, you love me," she quipped, poking his chest lightly.

"I do," he admitted, shaking his head as he reached for his phone. "Hold on, this needs to be documented."

She gasped. "Are you posting this?"

"Absolutely," Pedro said, already framing the candle in his phone’s camera. He adjusted the angle, then turned the camera to take a quick selfie with her and the candle. "Okay, say cheese."

She leaned in, holding up the candle with a goofy grin. "Queso!"

Pedro chuckled, snapping the photo before switching to Instagram. As he typed, she leaned over his shoulder to read.

"‘Look what my girl found today. Apparently, I’m a scent now.’" He added a laughing emoji and hit post. "There. The world deserves to know about this insanity."

She clapped her hands, delighted. "Oh my God, people are going to lose it."

Pedro set his phone down and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You’re lucky I think this is funny."

"Lucky? Please, you’re having the time of your life," she teased, resting her forehead against his. "Admit it, you love the candle."

He pretended to think about it, his fingers tracing small circles on her back. "I’ll admit it smells good. But you’re still crazier than the idea of me as a candle."

"Crazy in love with you," she countered, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

Pedro laughed, his voice warm and low. "You’re so cheesy, mi cielo."

"And you love that too," she said, pressing her lips to his in a quick but tender kiss.

The kiss deepened naturally, her arms slipping around his neck as his hands found her waist. For a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, warmer, until she pulled back just slightly.

"Hey," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do you think if we sold these candles, we’d make millions?"

Pedro groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "You’re impossible."

"But you love me," she said, laughing as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He looked up at her, his brown eyes soft but playful. "I really do."

She smiled, leaning down to kiss him again. And as the scent of "Pedro Pascal" lingered in the air, they settled back into each other’s arms, laughter and love filling the tiny apartment. The candle flickered on the coffee table, the perfect little reminder of the sweet absurdity they shared.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfics #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal scenarios #pedro pascal fluff

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goldfades · 3 months ago

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𝟎𝟎𝟏 SLIPPING INTO YOU ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ MATT REMPE

12 days of christmas celebration!!

as holidays approach, it’s important to remember those who are facing hardships, such as the people of palestine. in times of crisis, solidarity matters more than ever. you can support palestinian communities by donating to reputable organizations providing aid, such as food, medical supplies, and shelter. help palestine with a click | heal palestine | unrwa | resources for palestine

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Matt drags you to the local ice rink. Matt is a natural skater, while you can barely stand without falling. Cue laughter, clumsy hand-holding, and lingering touches as they help each other stay upright (though, that doesn't do much).

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluffy! matt being the boyfriendest bf ever, descriptions of being scared, hot cocoa!!!!!!!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓. Twinkling lights wrap around every lamppost, casting a warm glow that dances across the freshly fallen snow. The cold bites at your cheeks, but it's the kind of chill that feels festive, softened by the sweet scent of roasting chestnuts and cinnamon wafting from a nearby vendor. You pull your red scarf tighter around your neck, the fabric brushing against your chin as you match Matt's long strides through the crowded streets of New York.

He's practically humming with excitement. There's a childlike energy about him, and his eyes are bright with that unmistakable holiday sparkle. You don’t get to see this side of him often—outside the rink, he's usually all cool confidence and easy smiles. But here, in the city at Christmastime, he’s almost giddy, a broad grin plastered on his face.

You’re in the middle of pointing out the Rockefeller tree, its massive branches glittering in the distance, when Matt’s gaze catches on something else. His hand, warm and firm, slides into yours without warning, and suddenly you’re being tugged sideways, stumbling a bit over the slick pavement.

“Come on,” he urges, and you can already hear the teasing lilt in his voice, “I have an idea.”

You don’t have time to protest. He’s already pulling you through the flow of people, past couples holding hands and bundled-up families, the city’s hustle and bustle a blur around you. And then you see it—the ice rink, its surface shining under a canopy of lights, the sound of skates slicing the ice filling the air.

Your stomach drops.

“Oh, no,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You dig your heels into the sidewalk, but it does little to stop him. “Matt, I can’t—I’ll fall on my face.”

He laughs, the sound deep and warm, the kind that makes your heart do a funny little flip. “You won’t,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I promise, I won’t let you fall.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but then he turns to look at you, his face softening in that way that’s almost impossible to resist. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes—one that you know all too well.

“Pleaseee?” he says, drawing the word out, his voice low and coaxing. He’s still holding your hand, and you can feel the reassuring pressure of his fingers intertwined with yours. You hesitate, nerves twisting in your stomach, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no.

Before you can think it through, you nod, just once, and Matt’s grin grows impossibly wide. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, and suddenly you’re both moving toward the rink, his excitement pulling you along despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

You find yourself walking toward the ice rink as if in a daze, half-stumbling over the uneven patches of snow still clinging to the sidewalk. There’s a faint sense of inevitability, like this was always going to happen the moment Matt caught sight of the ice. He practically vibrates with enthusiasm, and his energy is contagious even as you fight back the urge to run in the other direction.

“Matt, I really can’t skate,” you say, the words tumbling out as he pulls you closer to the entrance. There’s a line forming, people exchanging laughter as they lace up their skates. Your heart is hammering against your ribs. “I’m serious. I’ll fall, and you’ll end up dragging me around the ice like a sled.”

He stops then, turning to face you, his expression softening as if he can sense the genuine anxiety brewing behind your teasing tone. The noisy swirl of the crowd fades a little as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his gloved fingers brushing your skin. He’s so much taller that you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and there’s a gentleness there that you weren’t expecting—a promise, unspoken, that he’s got you.

“Okay, listen,” he says, leaning in close enough that you can catch the crisp, wintry scent of his jacket, mixed with a hint of his cologne. “If you do this with me, I swear I’ll buy you the biggest, fanciest cup of hot cocoa New York has to offer. Whipped cream, marshmallows, caramel drizzle—the works.”

Your lips twitch, despite the nerves still coiling in your stomach. “You’re trying to bribe me with hot cocoa?”

“Is it working?” His grin is lopsided, charmingly hopeful, and he’s already dragging you forward again before you can decide if it’s working or not. “Besides, you know you’ll look cute out there. I mean, if anyone can make flailing around on ice adorable, it’s you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. He’s relentless in that way of his, a confidence that makes you believe, just a little, that maybe you won’t fall flat on your face the second your skates hit the ice. With a sigh that you hope hides how hard your heart is pounding, you let him lead you to the rental booth.

The process is quick—Matt knows exactly what size to ask for, and before you can even finish contemplating an escape route, he’s kneeling in front of you, already tying the laces of your skates with deft, practiced fingers.

It’s almost absurd, seeing him like this, the picture of a hockey player lost in this unexpectedly tender moment. His hands move with such ease, and you wonder how many times he’s done this—how many rinks he’s laced up at, how many times he’s made skating look as natural as breathing.

“Comfy?” he asks, giving the laces one final tug before standing up, towering over you again. There’s a spark in his eyes, that same infectious excitement that hasn’t dimmed, and you find yourself nodding, even though your legs already feel shaky and you’re not even on the ice yet.

He steps into his own skates like he’s been doing it his whole life—which, of course, he has—and then he’s holding out his hand, palm up, waiting. “You ready?”

“Not even a little,” you admit, but you slip your hand into his anyway, feeling the solid, reassuring weight of his fingers curling around yours.

Your grip tightens instinctively as he leads you toward the edge of the rink, where a couple of kids are racing each other, their laughter ringing through the chilly air.

There’s a moment of panic when your first skate touches the ice, and you automatically cling to the side railing like it’s a life preserver. The cold, slick surface feels unsteady beneath your feet, a thousand miles away from the solid ground you were just walking on. Matt steps on effortlessly, gliding in front of you with the kind of grace that makes it clear why he’s a pro. His skates move smoothly over the ice, barely making a sound.

“See?” he says, his tone light and teasing. “It’s easy. Just take my hand.”

Your heart is in your throat, and you feel the cold seep into your fingers where they grip the metal railing, but you let go with one hand—then the other—trusting that he’ll catch you. And he does. His hand slides back into yours, strong and steady, and he pulls you closer, guiding your feet inch by inch onto the ice. The world narrows down to the sound of his voice, the glide of his skates, and the icy chill prickling your cheeks.

“Keep your knees bent a little,” he advises, skating backward so he can face you, his hands wrapped around yours. “Just relax. You’ve got this.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, wobbling as you take your first hesitant step. Your legs feel like jelly, every muscle tensed and ready to crumple at the slightest provocation. But Matt just laughs, the sound low and warm, and he stays close, holding your hands as you inch forward.

Little by little, you start to move with him, and he keeps talking, coaxing you into motion with a steady stream of encouragement. Every time you stumble, his hands tighten around yours, and every time you catch your balance, he flashes you that brilliant, proud grin that makes your cheeks burn—not from the cold, but from something else entirely.

Somehow, minutes turn into a quarter of an hour, then half an hour, and the fear starts to melt away, replaced by something warm and fluttery that has nothing to do with the cocoa waiting for you when you’re done. Your movements are still clumsy, but you’re not gripping his hands like a lifeline anymore. There’s more laughter than fear now, and you’re both skating together, your breaths mingling in the frosty air.

“Alright,” Matt says, his voice dropping lower, the tone shifting to something more encouraging, almost coaxing. “I think you’re ready for the next step.” Before you can argue, he’s moving behind you, his hands settling at your waist. The heat of his palms is a reassuring weight through your coat, and you instinctively straighten, feeling the solid press of his chest at your back.

You can feel his breath on the side of your face, warm and steady, and your heart is hammering so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. He’s practically wrapped around you now, one of his arms looping around your middle while his other hand rests lightly on your hip. For a moment, you forget you’re on the ice at all—his presence is steady, a warm cocoon that chases away the chill seeping through the air.

“Okay,” he murmurs right beside your ear, and you shiver, but not from the cold. “I’m gonna let go for just a second, alright? You’re doing great.”

“Wait—” you start, panic rising in your chest, but before you can finish, he’s already loosening his grip, fingers sliding away from your waist.

For a split second, you’re skating on your own—your feet moving awkwardly but somehow in rhythm, the ice feeling almost manageable beneath you. A surge of exhilaration flares up, and you can’t help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of you.

“I’m doing it!” you say, a thrill of pride swelling in your chest. You’re skating—actually skating—and for that split second, you believe you’ve got it, that you’ve finally found your balance. But just as quickly as the thought forms, it all goes wrong.

Your skate catches on a rough patch, and suddenly you’re tilting forward, arms flailing for something—anything—to hold onto. The ground is coming up fast, but before you can hit the ice, your fingers find purchase, clutching onto Matt’s arm just as you feel yourself going down. You yank him off balance, and there’s a startled shout from behind you as he tries to catch himself, but it’s too late.

The world tilts and blurs as you both crash to the ice in a tangled heap. It all happens in a heartbeat—the cold, hard surface jolting against your back, Matt’s weight pressing against you as he lands almost on top of you, his arms braced around your shoulders to keep from crushing you completely. The impact is over before you’ve even had time to realize what happened, leaving you both sprawled out in a mess of limbs and laughter, your breath misting in the air between you.

For a second, you’re both too stunned to move. You blink up at the Christmas lights strung above the rink, the colorful bulbs shimmering in the darkness, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the ice. Then Matt shifts, his eyes wide with surprise, his face so close that you can see the faintest dusting of snowflakes caught in his dark hair.

And then you both burst out laughing—helpless, giddy laughter that bubbles up and spills over, filling the crisp night air. It’s the kind of laughter that’s impossible to stop, the kind that leaves your cheeks aching and your stomach sore, and you can’t help but lose yourself in it.

Matt’s forehead drops against your shoulder, his whole body shaking with laughter, and you’re laughing so hard that you can’t catch your breath, your gloved hands still clinging to his arm as if you’re both afraid to let go. He shifts slightly, still laughing, and his weight presses you deeper into the ice, but it doesn’t feel cold anymore—it feels warm, safe, like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you in this ridiculous, wonderful, chaotic moment.

When he finally lifts his head, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, there’s a grin on his face that’s so infectious you can’t help but smile back. “I thought you had it,” he teases, still breathless with laughter, his face inches from yours.

“I thought I did too,” you gasp, shaking your head. “But then you let go! Why did you let go?!”

“Hey, you grabbed me!” he says, mock-indignant, still grinning.

He shifts, rolling off you but keeping close enough that your shoulders are still touching, both of you lying flat on the ice, staring up at the glittering lights above. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall alone.”

You laugh again, your breath hitching, and you push at his shoulder playfully. “Yeah, well, now we’re both down here, genius.”

“Worth it,” he says easily, a soft warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch for an entirely different reason. His smile fades into something softer, something more real, and he reaches up to brush a stray snowflake from your cheek, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re okay, right?”

You nod, feeling a little breathless, a little dazed, but completely, wonderfully okay. More than okay. You’re lying on the ice in the middle of New York City, tangled up with Matt in a pile of limbs and laughter, and it’s perfect in a way you never would’ve expected.

“Alright,” he says, still smiling as he pushes himself up, extending a hand to help you to your feet. “Come on, let’s try that again. And if you fall this time, I’m definitely buying you that hot cocoa.”

“Deal,” you say, letting him pull you up, his hand warm and sure in yours. And for a second, standing there with him, your feet wobbling and your cheeks burning, you think maybe falling isn’t so bad after all.

When you finally make it off the ice—after several more tumbles, a lot of laughter, and one triumphant lap around the rink where you manage to stay upright the whole time—Matt keeps his promise. His arm is slung casually over your shoulders, the two of you leaning against each other for warmth as you leave the rink behind, the lights fading into the distance as you make your way back into the heart of the city.

“There’s a place right around the corner,” Matt says, his breath clouding the air as he gestures toward a cozy little cafe tucked between two shops. It’s the kind of place you’d never notice unless you were looking for it, and you can’t help but smile as he pushes open the door, the warm air inside washing over you like a wave.

The cafe is small and inviting, the air thick with the rich scent of chocolate and fresh pastries. A garland of evergreen is wrapped around the windows, and twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow over the tables. There’s a slight hum of conversation—other couples and groups of friends escaping the chill of the winter night—and it feels like you’ve stepped into a Christmas postcard.

“Go find us a seat,” Matt says, flashing you a grin as he makes his way to the counter. You peel off your gloves, rubbing your hands together to chase away the lingering cold, and find a little table by the window. The fogged glass gives a perfect view of the Rockefeller tree outside, its branches heavy with ornaments, the lights glittering like a million tiny stars against the night sky.

A few minutes later, Matt returns with two steaming mugs, their surfaces piled high with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a handful of tiny marshmallows. He sets one in front of you with a flourish, like he’s presenting you with the most important drink in the world, and you can’t help but laugh as you wrap your fingers around the warm ceramic, feeling the cold melt away.

“Fancy enough for you?” he asks, his tone light, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he watches you take that first, hesitant sip. The rich chocolatey warmth floods your senses, and you let out a happy sigh, feeling the warmth spread all the way to your toes.

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it.

It’s not just the cocoa, though that’s pretty close to the best you’ve ever had. It’s the way Matt is looking at you, his smile lazy and content, the faintest hint of color still lingering in his cheeks from the cold. It’s the feeling of being here, together, with the sounds of the city muted outside and the tree lighting up the darkness like something out of a dream.

He sits across from you, long legs stretched out under the table, and for a while, you don’t say anything at all. You just sip your cocoa, watching the lights of the tree reflected in the window, the glass blurring the world outside until it feels like the two of you are the only ones in it.

“This is nice,” you finally say, your voice soft, almost hesitant, like you’re afraid of breaking whatever spell has settled over you both.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your chest feel tight, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It really is.”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours where they rest around your mug, and you let him. It’s a small gesture, almost nothing, but it sends a thrill through you that you can’t quite ignore. His thumb traces a lazy pattern over your knuckles, and you find yourself smiling back at him, feeling more connected than you ever thought possible in such a crowded city.

Outside, the Rockefeller tree shines brighter than ever, each light reflecting in Matt’s eyes as he watches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. There’s something about the moment—the warmth of the cocoa, the glow of the lights, the way the rest of the world seems to fade away—that feels special, almost magical.

Like maybe this is exactly where you’re supposed to be, with the right person, at the right time.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but there’s no need. The silence between you is comfortable, easy, and as you sit there, sipping cocoa and stealing glances at each other over the rim of your mugs, you think you could stay here forever—right in this perfect little moment with him, the city sparkling around you like something out of a dream.

Eventually, Matt leans back in his chair, stretching a bit, and he gives you a lazy grin that’s all mischief and warmth. “Alright,” he says, eyes twinkling, “if I knew hot cocoa would make you this happy, I would’ve dragged you out on the ice ages ago.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes. “It wasn’t just the cocoa, you know,” you say, a little shy, and Matt’s grin softens.

“I know,” he replies, his voice gentle, and he holds your gaze a little longer than necessary before his attention shifts back to the glowing tree outside. For a while, the two of you just watch the lights twinkle, your mugs growing lighter with each sip until all that’s left is the memory of warmth and sweetness lingering on your tongues.

“Next year,” he says suddenly, his tone thoughtful, “we’re doing this again. Same rink, same cocoa, same everything.”

“Next year?” you ask, pretending to be skeptical, but the way your heart skips tells you exactly how much you want that—how much you want to be here, with him, over and over again.

“Next year,” he repeats, his voice firm and certain. He gives your hand one last squeeze before he lets go, reaching for his empty mug with a casual ease that makes your heart do another of those funny little flips. “It’s a tradition now.”

“A tradition,” you echo softly, the word tasting sweet on your tongue, and you find yourself smiling again, feeling something warm and hopeful bloom in your chest. It’s a promise, unspoken but solid, and as you glance back at the tree, its lights reflecting off the glass like a thousand little stars, you know it’s a promise you want to keep.

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