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#i still dont know how to shade hair
kurokotori · 3 months
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A super cool au idea @xdyrknymphx had :D I absolutely fell in love with the concept and had to doodle it.
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pulvisetsumbra · 2 years
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Living Jaguar
Im at twitter too, @edits_umbra
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aru-art · 1 year
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2 peas in a pod
ref from @ wo-habum on twitter!
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ibtrashwhore · 2 months
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Bleh gore
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Not enough of you
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camptw1nk · 1 month
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oh twitter bookmarks, facebook saved, instagram saved, tiktok bookmarks, tumblr likes, my beloveds (i will never ever open them again)
#be going 'oop ill save that for later' and then finding it in 3 yrs going 'wtf is this'#i still have bookmarks for belle parker. im not sure anyone here even remembers who that bitch is#she was my beloved my most babygirl oc in i think 2016-2018? ish?#she was the It Girl the Solo Blog the creator of the connected ocs universe#but i think the last time i wrote her was. Before Covid so its been a Hot Minute#but i still have stuff bookmarked in instagram in a little section just for her#if she ever comes back im ready for the edits#god she was the first (only?) time i edited icons to have a different hair color#but never permanently bc as we all know i never saved icons i made them as i went I'd write a reply then make the icon from scratch#awful method dont recommend it thats why i dont use icons really anymore#but i remember spending Hours editing purple hair on that bitch and the shade changed every single time#she was iconic tho. absolute queen. blueprint for every oc that came after her and im so serious#list any trait u have seen in a muse i write and i can probably trace it back 2 belle#if i looked back on her backstory im kinda convinced that she and cassie would have major crossover#belle had a twin brother. I think belle and cassie are the only time ive ever had twin ocs?#oh no wait there was my guy whos superpower was controlling glitter and his twin who could teleport and was evil#and the tweevils not ocs tho#do i have more twin ocs. genuinely no clue i am now only thinking ab 2016 era ocs i had#i think some of u may underestimate how little i remember ab my muses and blogs#if its not one of the it girl muses of the month (kurt jason cassie tate) then i can not tell u if they r on my multi or not. i dont know#obvi liam and cooper r special cases bc they technically have solo blogs rn#but at any given time u could just say i write someone that ive written in the past and I'll believe u
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mysicklove · 2 months
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CW: Aged up character, sub! Yuuji Itadori, dom! gn! reader, mentions of cock rings/cock cages, heavy orgasm control, reader likes to mess with poor yuuji, dacryphilia, fingers in mouth
WC: 1.2k
A/N: i made this to (hopefully) get out of my writers slump. idk. it was fun to write tho LOL. i neeeeed to work on my WIPs tho.
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"Oh Yuuji, I'm disappointed."
His eyes widen at the tone of your voice, soft and defeated, like you truly were upset with him. The idea makes his mouth go dry, and he bites his lip to hold back his tears.
"I-It was an accident, I swear!" he stammers, clinging onto your arm to hopefully convey how panicked he seemed to be. Even an ounce of disapproval from you made him want to sing apologies, and the way you were frowning at him made him sick to his stomach.
You brush his cheek, and he tries to nuzzle into it, but you pull it away before he can, earning a pitiful whimper from the pink-haired boy. He tries to chase your hand, but you give him a warning glare, and he backs down immediately. “You weren’t supposed to cum. I told you no.”
“Imsorryimsorryimsorry!” Yuuji yelps, gripping at his boxers as tears begin to threaten to fall. “I got too excited. It felt too good. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disappoint you!”
You shake your head at him, pulling away from him. “I don’t like playing with boys who don’t listen.”
The noise that falls from his mouth is pitiful, and even you flinch at the sound. His only goal was to please you, and hearing your words made his heart throb. “No, no, no,” he pleads, “I-I’ll be good again! I’ll listen this time!”
You were sadistic, and he knew you were, so when he saw you smile, more tears cascaded down his face. Alas, you wipe them away and say, "I don't believe you. Do I need to put your ring on again?"
Yuuji hates his cock ring. It was his second least favorite toy you have bought for him. Not being able to cum was one of the most frustrating feelings, especially when he always had so much of it to give.
"No. No I-I dont need my ring," he begs, pawing at your arm. His body was caving over himself, and at this point he was borderline clinging to you, shoving his face into your neck. It was an act to look smaller, more pathetic, and if hopes that he looks meek enough you may take pity on him. "I'll do good this time."
It works, surprisingly enough - you rub the back of his hair and trace his back muscles. He slumps in your hold, knowing well what the affectionate touches meant. Slowly, you move away the arm on his back to his groin, where his cock is already half-hard again.
"You won't cum until I allow you to, yes?"
"Yes," he breathes, relief washing over him at the fact that he isn't going to be punished. "I won't. I promise I won't this time."
Your tongue drags over his neck, and he shivers, eyes shutting and letting out a small gasp. Then, you begin your movements on his cock, sliding your nearly closed palm up and down. His previous cum acts as makeshift lube, and almost instantaneously he grows hard again. It makes you grin at him. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Yuuji?"
"S-Sorry. I just...like it. A lot..." he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as his mouth drops open.
You lean forward to kiss the scar beneath his right eye, and he lets out a small breathless moan at the soft touch of your lips. "What do you like a lot?"
Yuuji, in return, gulps, flushing a shade of red. He looks at the hand pumping his cock, watching the way your thumb rubs at his plush tip as if daring him to cum again. But still, he manages to respond. "Um-When you touch my...c-cock."
The word was always so embarrassing to him, so lewd sounding. But it was the way you wanted him to refer to it, so he abided by the term that made him feel like he was straight out of a porno.
"That's it," you praise, tilting his head to plant another soft kiss on his mouth. "Will you cum then?"
Yuuji knows better by now, and so he rapidly shakes his head. "No. Not until you allow me to."
He was speaking in between kisses, eyes closed and leaning as close to you as possible.
"And what if you are to wait a week to cum? Make you get out your cage as punishment."
The man's entire body goes rigid, and he quickly pulls away from your mouth, eyes owlish. The hand moves away from the spot between his legs, and he clenches his fists to restrain the urge to force it back.
He seems to be at a loss for words, biting the inside of his cheek and furrowing his eyebrows. A fresh new set of tears slides down his face, but he is quick to wipe them off with the back of his hand.
Although the cockring was torture in the moment, chastity was by far the hardest thing for Yuuji to do. He had a high sex drive, and even going a week without cumming sounded torturous. The longest he has gone is four days without an orgasm, and he was practically pawing at your feet like some sort of attention-starved puppy to get you to touch him.
To trick him into thinking he was going to get another orgasm was cruel, and he was incredibly frustrated. His cock was so hard it was borderline painful, and knowing that he was not going to be granted a release made him unreasonably upset.
But he did disobey you, and you were known to be cruel to him. He looks at your knees and bites his lip. The words come out in a low whisper as if he were almost afraid of them. "I'll go grab m-my cage."
Yuuji begins to pull away from you, heading to the closet to where the devilish toy is located, when suddenly a hand grips the back of his hair and pulls him back to you. His lips forcefully lock onto yours, and immediately your tongue slides into his mouth. He gets so distracted by the suddenness of it all that when he feels the hand back on his cock he lets out a guttural moan that is swallowed by your mouth.
And then you pull away from him, leaving him hazy-eyed and breathless as you lick at the saliva coating your lips. Your other hand thumbs at his lips, and you grin at him, leaning forward. "You're such a good boy, Yuuji. Makes me want to tease you till you run out of tears."
Your thumb has made its way into his mouth, and it presses onto his tongue. The only noise he can make is a low whine, not liking that idea at all but not daring to try to speak with your finger pressed inside his mouth.
But then, much to the boys suprise, you lean forward till you are inches away from his ear and mutter, "You have my permission to cum whenever you like."
And just like a kid in a candy store, Yuuji's eyes lighten.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 7 months
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Great Balls Of Fire
Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)
summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.
a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for
fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it
top gun masterlist
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It had been so long. It had been too long.
With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.
You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.
You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.
You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.
But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.
You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.
So this had to be perfect.
This would be perfect.
You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.
He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.
But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).
And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.
You just wanted him to see it so desperately.
You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.
The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?
So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.
You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.
It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.
You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.
Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.
But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.
Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.
You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.
So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.
Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.
Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.
You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.
You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.
You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.
It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.
He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!
He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.
As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.
You had missed four months of this.
And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.
You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.
You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.
You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.
So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.
"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."
Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.
"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."
You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.
"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."
He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.
"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."
And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.
Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.
"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."
You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?
"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.
Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.
He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.
When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.
"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"
Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.
"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.
"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."
You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.
Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.
"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.
"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"
You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.
"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.
When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.
"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."
At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.
He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.
His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.
"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.
Bradley pulled back an inch.
"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.
"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."
Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.
"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.
So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.
It wouldn't be the first time.
The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.
He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?
God, how you'd missed this man.
And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.
His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.
"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.
"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.
"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."
His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.
"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."
You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.
"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."
"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."
You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.
"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.
So you told him about everything.
The short version, of course.
He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...
The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.
Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.
At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.
Not that you really minded.
But you truly felt like going insane.
Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.
He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.
"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.
He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.
He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.
You weren't needy.
You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.
So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.
You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.
Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.
You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.
You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.
Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.
You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.
He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.
And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.
He motioned at the table.
"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."
You shook your head softly.
"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.
You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.
You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.
"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"
You nodded, swallowed.
"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."
Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.
"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."
Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.
He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.
God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.
"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."
He let out a groan.
"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.
You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.
A whine rolled off your tongue.
"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.
Bradley chuckled.
"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"
Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.
"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."
He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.
You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.
Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.
"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.
"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."
He groaned into the skin of your thigh.
"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.
You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.
"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.
"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."
You hadn't had him in four months.
Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.
Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.
Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.
As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.
So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.
You needed him to fuck you. Now.
He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.
He was making you go insane.
"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.
"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."
Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.
Nervous because Bradley stilled.
Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.
Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.
"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.
You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.
How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.
"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"
A tattoo.
Your tattoo.
You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.
Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.
He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.
"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."
Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.
You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.
Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.
It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.
But it didn't always mean something good.
And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.
And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.
Great Balls Of Fire.
"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"
Bradley let out a long breath.
"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.
"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.
"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.
Your song.
Your song.
Your song.
"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"
He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.
You whimpered again.
"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"
You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.
"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."
You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.
"Just for you", you whined.
Bradley chuckled.
"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."
A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.
He knew.
"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.
"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"
You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.
"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."
"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."
He was on you within a heartbeat.
One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.
You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.
You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.
"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."
His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.
"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."
You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.
"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."
"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."
And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.
Just that you couldn't enjoy this.
You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.
You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.
"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."
"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."
You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.
You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.
"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."
Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.
"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.
He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.
And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.
His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.
Four months.
Four months and a tattoo.
And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.
You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.
This.
Him.
Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.
"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."
"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."
He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.
"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.
This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.
When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.
"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.
"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.
Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.
"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"
You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.
"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."
1K notes · View notes
goodiegoddesselle · 2 months
Text
my favorite pair | L. DH
Tumblr media
pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader
genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname
summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.
wc: 3k
minors dni. dont like, dont read.
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You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.
For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.
Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.
Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.
“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.
A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?
You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.
Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.
At least, you thought so.
You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.
“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”
“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.
It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.
You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”
“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”
You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”
“Like what, Y/N?”
“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.
“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”
He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.
The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.
“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.
“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”
“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.
Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”
A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.
Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”
Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.
“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.
“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.
“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”
Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.
“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.
“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“Yes…” you moaned.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir…”
Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.
“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.
“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”
“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.
“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.
“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.
“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.
“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.
“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”
“Yeah? Then beg for it.”
“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”
Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”
“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.
“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”
Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.
“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.
“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”
Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.
Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up instead to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.
Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level or nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”
The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”
“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.
“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said. 
You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.
“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”
741 notes · View notes
ryuluvr · 1 month
Text
needy. (wlw, smut)
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warnings: softdom!ryu, sub!reader, mommy kink, thigh riding, praise, slight begging, orgasm permission.
summary: reader is horny as hell but is shy when it comes to asking ryujin to help them out. (requested, tysm!!)
word count: 1000
( not proof read, ends as quick as it starts tbh, just wanted to get something out after such a long break! )
you adjusted yourself on the edge of your double bed, crossing one leg over the other as your eyes settled on ryujin across the room. she was gaming at a desk, the game irrelevant to you in this moment. this woman looked good, too good. and no matter how hard you fought it, all you could think about was her touching you, her slender fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. you left the room more times than you could count to try and occupy yourself and distract your dirty mind, but of course it was no use. you needed her, desperately, but asking for that felt beyond embarrassing for someone as shy as you.
a deep sigh escaped your lips once you reached the living room, throwing yourself down on the nearest couch and immediately zoning out. cleaning wont help, listening to music wont help, nothing you try will take fucking ryujin out of your head.
“hey, you okay?” immediately you snap back to reality, ryujin chuckling at the sight of you just sitting there in silence. in a poor attempt to clear your mind you shake your head and smile up at her sweetly. you didnt even hear her walk to you.
“i’m good, sorry!”
“you look like you got a lot on your mind… stressed, baby?”
“no- nothing like that, dont worry.”
ryujin quickly makes herself comfortable beside you on the couch, her eyes scanning every inch of your face which immediately made you feel hot. her hand reaches for your thigh and she gives it a light squeeze, frowning at your silence.
“talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?” her eyes were practically burning into your skin and it was unbearable. as you glanced in the opposite direction, your cheeks flushed a deep pink shade, embarrassment completely taking over you. as much as you didnt want to admit it, you thought maybe its time. she was not going to let you leave until you told her.
to your surprise, ryujin took your chin gently between her thumb and finger, turning your head to face her. “baby.” she spoke once more, this time much lower, her voice barely audible. something had switched up inside her and it was obvious to you.
“i just… i dont know… i just keep thinking about you.” you matched the other woman’s tone, soon biting down on your bottom lip due to the nerves.
ryujin understood within seconds. she always does. “you want me, pretty?” she began, “want some attention?”
her voice was enough to make you go weak, nodding without giving it a single thought. she quietly asked you to stand up before pulling off your panties and letting your skirt fall to the floor shortly after. ryujin lightly tapped her thigh with the hand previously holding your face. you wasted no time, immediately positioning yourself on her thigh and letting her soft lips teasingly brush against your neck. you grip onto her shoulders to keep yourself up as a slight whimper escapes you. ryujin started by trailing multiple kisses across your neck and up to your jawline, her hands rubbing your back lightly from under your top.
you were still, yet could still feel how wet you were against her thigh. ryujin was wearing shorts, so the skin on skin feeling was driving you beyond crazy. her lips claimed yours in a desperate kiss, eventually disconnecting when she slipped your top off and over your head, her fingers immediately working at your bra to remove that too. a gasp left your lips when you felt ryujins tongue trace along your nipples, flicking them enough to make you whine loudly.
“ryu, please…” you could barely think, and your cheeks showed no sign of cooling down. she paused to press a gentle kiss to your lips instead, her right hand brushing your hair out of your face. it was little things like that which made you melt.
ryujin’s hands gripped onto your hips and began guiding you on her thigh causing a soft moan to escape you. you continued grinding against her and your clit was throbbing more with every passing second. you dragged your soaked folds against ryujin’s skin, your nails practically digging into her shoulders to keep yourself upright.
“does it feel good, baby?” ryujin asked, her warm breath tickling your ear, “you like getting off on mommy’s thigh, hm?”
your entire body shuddered at her words, your pace quickening as you desperately tried to chase an orgasm.
“ah- i do!” a series of moans and whimpers filled the room as you continued grinding against ryujin’s thigh, one hand running up to squeeze your breast. “mommy, ‘m so close.. fuck, it feels so good..”
a devilish smirk appeared across ryujin’s face as she tensed her thigh, sending immense waves of pleasure to your needy cunt. her grip on your soft hips tightened as she kept planting sloppy kisses to your lips and neck.
“have i told you that you can come baby?” ryujin asked, her tone even lower than before. your head dropped as your body twitched over her, needing to stop yourself before you came without her permission. you didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you needed release.
“please ryu- fuck, please mommy! please can i cum? i need it!” you begged, pathetically whining into the crook of her neck. she waited a few moments as if to torture you before quietly agreeing. “cum for me, angel, let it out.”
your hips didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace once more, only taking a matter of seconds to reach your climax. your pornographic moans and loud squeals filled the room as you made a mess all over ryujin’s thigh, desperately rubbing your overly sensitive clit against her soft skin until you felt your whole body go limp on top of her.
ryujin instantly wrapped her arms around your waist and held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you came down from such a high.
“feel better, baby?” she whispered before pulling you further onto her lap, your cheeks flushing a deep pink shade. you nodded as if to say yes and cuddled up to the other woman, smiling through the gentle kiss you pressed against her lips.
597 notes · View notes
planet-dusk · 1 year
Note
Imagine
Jeongin is your roommate, actually there was nothing between you two. But when it come to him wearing glasses, its just something else. It brings the dirtiest images of this situation. you cannot let this opportunity slip anymore; youre riding jeongin, praising him, kissing and nibbing on his skin. He is not understanding anything and dont know how it even started
-🤡
🏷️ fingering, oral (f) implied, mentions of perv!jeongin
with his glasses askew, his hair mussed and purple bruises decorating his collarbones jeongin’s a living vision of debauchery.  
you’re seated in his lap and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. your skirt has ridden up so high he can almost see your lace thong. he knows you’re wearing the black one with the little bow on the front; he’d watched you fish it out of the dryer earlier and had made a mental note to pocket it later. 
somewhere between then and now you’d come home from the club and pounced. it’d happened so fast jeongin’s brain is still struggling to catch up. it doesn’t help that most of his blood is rushing south. 
“these fucking glasses,” you mutter between sharp nips at his skin. it hurts more than he’d like but he doesn’t dare to stop you. doesn’t want you to even if he should know better. he can’t ruin things. not with you. 
“you’re drunk,” he protests weakly, “we shouldn’t —”
“shut up, i’ve only had three drinks,” you push at his shoulders. your strength surprises him. it also turns him on, which isn’t helping. neither are the words you utter next: 
“yang jeongin, listen to me. i need you to fuck me. right now.” 
never in a million years did he expect to hear those words coming from you. he stares at your face, searching it for any signs of trickery. this has to be a prank. it’s either that or he’s dreaming. 
“what about jisung?” 
jeongin’s not sure why he asks. he doesn’t give a shit about jisung. 
“what about who,” you scoff and roll your eyes. jisung is the guy you’d been dating for the past couple weeks. ‘dating’ is a big word; it’d been more fucking than dating, with very little room for any conversation. it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. “he left with minho’s sister.”
it all makes sense to him now. you’re horny, and jisung left you high and dry. jeongin pushes the bitter taste of being used as a rebound away and tentatively puts his hands on top of your bare thighs. this might be his only chance. 
“c’mon, innie, don’t be shy,” you giggle. why do you have to be so cute even when you’re teasing him? “i know you want me.” 
he lets his gaze drift from your eyes to your mouth. fuck, you have no idea how badly he wants you. 
“the walls are thin, y’know. i can hear you moaning my name at night.”
his eyes snap back up, feline eyes now wide and rounded, his ears turning the brightest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. you giggle again and grind your hips against his. jeongin’s so hard he’s sure he’s going to explode if you keep doing that. somehow the thought of you knowing about his little crush is more enticing than embarrassing. or maybe today’s the day he discovers he’s got a thing for humiliation. he realizes he doesn’t care. not when your skin is hot underneath his palms and you’re making the neediest little noises. 
“i need your fucking hands. the amount of times i’ve fantasized about these long fingers…” 
jeongin swallows hard. you’ve thought about him too? 
he tightens his grip on your thighs and his mouth finds yours easily. the kiss is hungry and eager, more teeth and tongue than necessary as you lick into his mouth like you want to devour him. the low moan he lets out only seems to spur you on. 
encouraged by your enthusiasm jeongin pushes your sodden underwear to the side and teases your slit with two fingers. he grins when he feels how soaked you are. “all this because of some glasses?”
you’re not laughing anymore, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back when he finds your clit. “down,” you tug at his shoulders and clamber off his lap. he lets you maneuver him into position, reclining on the couch with your thighs on both sides of his head. “the answer is you, you idiot. but you can keep the glasses on.”
2K notes · View notes
kaisfruit · 5 months
Note
Hello love! I love your posts so much and I was wondering if I could request a Cole smut one shot? I mean, I saw your head canons and you said you could go on for longer, girl please do!??
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Starved | Cole x Fem!Reader
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A/N; I DONT KNOW U TWO, BUT U TWO ANONS MWAH !!! I LOVE U GUYS! i wanted to go so in depth w cole cuz i am unbelievably attrracted to that man i aint afraid to admit it. also, neither of yall specified BUT! im going w fem!reader since u both came from the fem!reader hcs <3
warnings; nsfw under the cut <3, cunnilingus, size kink, pussy drunk cole, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it b4 u tap it yall), probably some typos/grammar mistakes cuz i am way too scared to ask anyone to read this beforehand, and uhh i think that's it!
word count; 4.4k (i may have gotten a bit carried away im sorry yall)
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Dinner was a favorite time amongst the ninja. It was time to unwind, to have fun, and enjoy each other's company. You had been chatting idly to Lloyd, who sat to your right, for a majority of the time. He was a bit quieter compared to some of the others (full shade to Jay, Kai, Cole, and Nya) and it seemed as if the mundane practice of just a normal conversation was a great relaxer for the green ninja, so he was definitely one of your preferred dinner companions. That didn’t mean there wasn’t chaos going on around you guys. Jay, who was to your left, seemed to be in a full shouting argument with Kai who sat directly across from the blue ninja. The topic of their angry musings was unknown to you, but Lloyd kept making commentary on it every now and again which you would happily add onto.
Across from you sat Cole, then to his left was Nya, and the head of the table was occupied by Zane while opposite him on the other end sat Pixal. Zane seemed content to exist in the company of all of you, only chiming in when he felt like it was needed, but he and Nya were definitely whispering jokes to each other every now again between bites of their food. Pixal, you noticed, was actually jokingly joining in on Kai and Jay’s argument. She would add in one point that was completely absurd and it would cause the other two to blow up again. That robot could be devious when she really wanted to be.
Then there was Cole. You were surprised that he wasn’t also a part of the argument, but you suppose the topic of…maybe devil worship? You weren’t sure, but still, whatever it was didn’t seem to interest the earth ninja. To be fair, you knew the other was prone to getting entranced into whatever he was eating at the moment and Zane had done wonderfully with tonight’s dinner (as he always did) so it was understandable really. 
“And, yeah, I don’t know. I just don’t really understand why I’ve always got to be doing something.” Lloyd finished his story up and you nodded along, having listened intently the entire time. 
“I don’t know either man,” you shrugged as you took a sip of your water, “your shit is always getting rocked one way or another.” That caused a slight snort of amusement to exit the green ninja. “I mean, I would’ve already changed my government name and gone into hiding if I were in your shoes.”
Lloyd let out a sigh. “That’s the dream. I don’t know if I could do all of that. Couldn’t leave you guys behind at all. That’d suck big time. Ninjago should just get its shit together so we can have some slice of life anime lives.” You nodded enthusiastically at that idea.
“Ooo yeah. And then we could have like fun drama like…what outfit am I going to wear tomorrow or oh no my hair is so bad!” 
“Yes! You’re getting it.” Lloyd grinned. “I think I should get a cat.” His mind wandered constantly, so you were only slightly jarred by the sudden conversation change. “I’ve heard that their purrs do some sort of healing and I could for sure use some of that.”
“I think we’d all like having a cat around.” You added on. “They’re sort of independent, so it would be a good pet for our lifestyle.”
Lloyd was about to respond to you, y’know how conversations work, when all of a sudden Jay slammed his palms onto the table as the “argument” had escalated. It caused the table to shake and before you could stop it your water glass had fallen down and drenched your shirt. You let out a loud gasp which quickly caught the attention of everyone.
“Oh my God, [name], I’m so sorry!” Jay began profusely apologizing, scrambling about the table to find some napkins. Kai was howling with laughter just happy to not be the one who fucked something up. Lloyd was a bit in shock, Zane and Nya had both gotten up to grab some towels from the kitchen with Pixal not far behind, and Cole seemed to be frozen. You were too caught up in the water seeping through your clothes to notice, but the ninja sat opposite you seemed to have his eyes locked onto you, his body tense.
“Jay, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured as you stood up, Cole’s eyes following the movement carefully, “I’ll just go get changed. It’s no big deal.” You tried giving the blue ninja a comforting smile, but you could tell the guilt was already eating him alive and it’d be hard to get him out of that state for a while. You’d try again later, you decided.
Letting those who had left to the kitchen know where you were going, you made your way to your room with your arms held awkwardly in the air so that the weird feeling of the wet fabric wouldn’t be sticking to your skin too bad. Before you could forget, you made a quick stop by the bathroom in order to grab a towel from the cabinet.
Finally having made it to your room, you were quick to tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere on the floor. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to dry off your top half with the previously acquired towel. With a frown, you removed your bra as well since the water had made it to that garment too and once you were sure your skin felt dry you dropped the towel onto your bed and you made your way to your closet.
You were bent over getting into your dresser looking for a new bra when you heard a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” You called over your shoulder, still digging around in the dresser. 
“Uhhh Cole! Is it okay if I come in?”
“I’m sort of changing right now!”
“I won’t look!”
You huffed out a laugh at that. It was sort of indecent to let him in when you were like that, but he did promise not to look. But what if he did? That thought caused your cheeks to heat up a bit. To be completely honest, you were almost entirely head over heels for the earth ninja. The only reason you didn’t choose to spend every dinner chatting to him is because you knew part of you would slip up and embarrass yourself in one way or another. Not to say he didn’t do his fair share of embarrassing himself, but you found that endearing. He’d probably think you were weird and off putting if you were to just slip up randomly. 
“Fiiinneeee!” You agreed against your better judgment. “No peeking!”
You could hear a chuckle rumble from the man as the faint sound of the door clicking open hit your ears. Chancing a glance behind you, you smiled fondly at the sight of Cole with his hands over his eyes as he shut the door behind him. He stood completely still after that too scared to make his way to a place to sit with him completely blind like that.
“Soooo, what’s up?” You finally asked, trying to not get irritated at the fact that you couldn’t seem to find another bra in your dresser.
“I just wanted to check in on you.” Cole answered, his voice strained. “I’ll gladly beat Jay up for you. Swear.” That had you giggling.
“You’d beat Jay up over anything.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just looking for an excuse to.”
“Nuh uh.”
“You can take a seat, y’know.” You changed the topic, about damn near close to giving up and just going braless (you wouldn’t actually. It sounded comfortable, but you didn’t want to expose yourself like that.)
Cole cleared his throat slightly. “No way! I’d totally bump into like a shelf or something!! All of your shit would be broken and then I’d have to beat myself up after beating up Jay!”
Another laugh escaped you at that. Was all of it made funnier by the fact that it was Cole? Maybe. Afterwards, you went silent as your mind began racing. This could be your chance? Would he think it’s weird?
“Hey, I,” you bit your lip in a pause, “I don’t mind if you open your eyes…” You finally spoke, getting ready to just laugh it off like it was just a joke. What a prankster you are!
Cole seemed to go oddly silent after you said that and you were sweating bullets. The tension that filled the room was suffocating. Quickly, you snapped up with your back still to Cole. That action was followed by the sound of footsteps almost as if the other ninja had begun walking closer.
You were about ready to apologize profusely when Cole’s low voice broke the silence, “can I ask you something, [name]?”
“Anything…” You murmured, still facing the other way.
“Can I…” There was a pause, an eerily similar pause to the one you had earlier. He was hesitant as he seemed to be fighting some inner battle.
Without thinking, you quickly turned around not caring about your current topless situation and you pulled Cole down in order to plant a fierce kiss to his lips. You were about to apologize for your impulsivity and how you should’ve asked first and not assumed, but Cole’s hands came to rest on your waist and he let out a low groan as he melted into the kiss.
You weren’t small by any means, but it was making your knees weak at the feeling of his hands just absolutely dwarfing your waist. Those hands pulled you closer to where your chest was pressed against him and the feeling of the bulge in his pants against your hips caused you to gasp which he took advantage of and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small whine at the action, but quickly reciprocated even if you let him have control of the kiss.
Eventually, the need for air arose and you reluctantly parted with him, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. His eyes searched yours, as if something in your gaze held the answer to every question he had ever asked, as his hands slowly wandered to the area beneath your ass. After a bit of panting between the two of you, the kiss quickly resumed and he lifted you up easily causing your stomach to do flips. You wrapped both of your legs around his back and took appreciation in the new angle as it was much easier than having him lean down as much as he was.
The kiss broke as his lips began trailing downward. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your neck and your breath hitched as he lightly nipped and sucked at the skin there.
“You’re gorgeous…” He breathed against your neck.
Between your harsh intakes of breath, you eventually got out, “Cole, I need you.” Which caused another low groan to escape him.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about hearing that come from your lips.” Cole had begun walking over to your bed and gently sat you down atop it as he crawled on top of you. He had barely even done anything, but you already felt like your brain was turning into mush. The sight of his body hovering over yours is something you’ve only ever dreamed about and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. That movement caught his attention, but he had to pace himself. Make sure everything was alright with you. You were operating at hyperspeed, however, and began reaching to the hem of his shirt. That didn’t go unnoticed by him either and he was quick to yank the material up and over his head. He flung the shirt onto the floor of your room as you laid there, stunned, at the sight of his body.
Cole was, well you knew he was big, but he was beefy. Clearly, he was muscular, but he had some chubbiness going for him as well and, God, you don’t know if you’ve ever needed anyone more. He was perfect. You started to sit up so that you could absolutely just feel him up, but he didn’t let you get up. Instead, he ran his hands down your stomach towards your shorts. You looked at him confused and he just leaned in close, his breath fanning across your ear.
“I want to make this about you.” His hands had successfully unbuttoned and zipped down your shorts. “Call me selfish, but I need to make you feel good. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t treat you like the finest piece of cake in the damn bakery?” To many, that’d be a cause for laughter, but knowing Cole, that meant everything. He slowly pulled away from your ear and you couldn’t help but look at him with the purest look of adoration after that. Even in a situation as intimate as this, he still managed to get the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.
Cole slowly slid your shorts down your legs and off of your body. They probably ended up somewhere near where his shirt did. His eyes were transfixed at the wet spot that had formed on your underwear and he found himself subconsciously licking his lips. You, on the other hand, were staring at him with anticipation wondering what his next move would be. Gingerly, his hands came to rest on your waist and you shivered. His thumbs hooked into the last garment you had on, but he paused to look up at you. His eyes were searching yours once more.
“Is this okay?” He finally asked, his voice soft. Your enthusiastic nod put him into action and he quickly slid your panties off of your legs.
Cole could’ve sworn he was fucking salivating at the sight of your core fully exposed to him. He placed his hands underneath your knees and used that position to spread your legs open for ease of access. Knowing he still had his pants on, you were curious to what his current plan was until your eyes widened as you watched his head lower to rest between your thighs. Your face was flushed red and you could feel yourself trembling slightly. What he was about to do was just so…intimate? It felt more like a once the relationship has officially started activity, but it seems he wasn’t even kidding when he said he’d treat you like cake. Was he trying to ruin you for anyone else? (As if you’d want anyone else.)
The breath was knocked out of you as he took one small lick of you. You could’ve sworn you heard a noise escape him as well, but you weren’t given time to even think as he instantly dove back in. He had started eating you out like a man starved. His tongue moved along your pussy masterfully, making careful movements along your clit which caused punctuated whines to escape your mouth. You couldn’t help but reach a hand down to rest on the back of his head which he seemed to enjoy. Cole then made his tongue flatten out in order to lap up as much of your juices as possible. As if this wasn’t enough to get his fill, his tongue finally plunged into your hole and a gasp left your lips that slowly morphed into a low moan. This man was eating you up and you’re pretty sure your mind was completely gone by this point. What was your name? Who cares? Cole was giving you pleasure you had never experienced before and that’s literally all that mattered at this point. If your head wasn’t so far up in the clouds, you probably would’ve noticed that Cole was grinding up against the bed as he ate you out. 
Your grip tightened in Cole’s hair and a moan left his lips which seemed to vibrate along your cunt. 
“C-Cole–” His name was but a mere whimper along your lips and it only encouraged him to move his mouth against you faster. You felt the knot in your stomach twist up as your peak approached. You were practically grinding up against his tongue which Cole enjoyed immensely. He could not get enough and it rewarded him as you practically exploded all over his tongue. He was licking up as much of your climax as he could as you were still shaking in post-orgasmic bliss. Your vision felt blurry at the continued stimulation that carried you down from your high and you were faintly aware of the moans and whimpers making their way out of your throat.
Honestly, you had expected him to stop, but even one orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Cole was still lost in the taste of your pussy. You felt a bit of pain flare up at the overstimulation and you were trying to gently pull at his hair.
“Cole,” you whimpered, “h…hurts.” That fell on deaf ears as he just continued on. You thought he hadn’t heard you, but a shit eating look was sent your way and you knew he was trying to work you up. 
“Just one more.” He growled along your folds as he moved up to suck on your clit which caused a jolt to travel through your body. It seems as if he had enough of your trembles as his arms came up to rest on your thighs. The position still keeping your legs spread, but his strength kept your lower half still as he continued his ‘feast’. Your moans and whines had definitely picked up in pace at this moment as the pain began to border on pleasure.
Your second orgasm came much faster.
He licked it up just as enthusiastically as he did the first time. You think he probably would’ve tried to keep going for a third time if you didn’t forcefully pull him up this time. There was a sheen of your slick that shined around Cole’s mouth and you looked away slightly in embarrassment. Cole, meanwhile, was licking around his mouth trying to get whatever he had missed. 
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath after all of that. The shifting of Cole’s body was what finally caught your attention. The ninja was moving himself from above your body to your side and it looked as if he was moving to lay down next to you. All signs of lethargy left your body as you quickly sat up and rested a hand on his chest. Cole stared at you with a tilt of his head, the confusion bubbling within him evident.
“What about you?” You asked, still breathing a bit heavy.
“What about me?” Cole replied a bit dumbly.
“You know…” You muttered, a tad bit embarrassed, but you rested a hand over his painfully hard bulge in his pants. The feeling caused him to shiver and he looked down, realization dawning on him.
“Oh, it’s okay.” He said, picking your hand up and removing it from his crotch. “I said I just wanted to take care of you, right?”
“Yeah you did,” you started, “but I said I need you, didn’t I?” Cole nodded slowly, but a small frown was still on his face.
“Aren’t you tired?”
A sigh left your mouth. “A little, BUT.” You emphasized, noticing how he had opened his mouth to speak after you said that. “God damnit Cole. No way am I going to finally get you into my bed just to have you not dick me down. I don’t care how sensitive I am, I need you to fuck me.” You could barely believe what you had just said, but it got the job done. Albeit a bit slowly.
“...Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you…”
“I have never been more fucking sure in my life.”
Seeing as he wasn’t moving, you lunged over to him to begin slipping his basketball shorts down. Noticing your haste, Cole finally started taking initiative. If it’s what you wanted then he just had to give it. With a better method, Cole slipped off his shorts and boxers off together in one swift motion. And, boy, did he not disappoint. EVERY part of him was big, you had just found out. Saliva pooled up in your mouth at the sight of his cock as you couldn’t take your size off of it. If you weren’t so needy, you probably would’ve taken him into your mouth right then and there, but Cole already had a hand on your shoulder forcing you to lay back down as he positioned himself right above you again.
Your pussy was definitely still slick from the mix of your own arousal and Cole’s saliva and he ran a finger between your folds before shoving it into you. His tongue hadn’t been as thick as his finger, but it still wasn’t much to adjust to. The second finger proved to be more filling and your breath was once again escaping in huffs. 
It took a bit until Cole had either thought you ready or just gotten impatient, but he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his dick up with your entrance. A pause. You were about ready to complain until the breath was taken swiftly from your lungs as he slowly pushed in. As he slid in further and further, the more your breaths turned into short moans. It felt as if he filled absolutely every part of you and it was addicting. The stretch hurt, but it was so deliciously overpowered by the pleasure of him finally being inside you. Though, Cole still didn’t even attempt to move until you gave him the go ahead.
From there, he started at a slow but deep pace. It was a sensual experience. Above you, Cole was letting out little huffs and groans at the feeling of your walls around his member. He could explode right then and there if he wanted to. But, he continued at this pace of almost completely removing himself from your hole before pushing balls deep back in. It was excruciating.
“F..fa…faster.” You panted at him. And who would he be if he denied you this request?
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room as Cole slowly began picking up the pace. His hips were pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace, and you think you finally understood the phrasing of “being fucked stupid.”
Every push in had you moaning loudly. It was either moans or a broken moan of Cole’s name which made him go in a bit harder every time you did that. His head hung low until it was resting in the crook of your neck. The groans and low moans that were leaving the man only turned you on more and you about screamed his name when he bit into your neck. There were no thoughts of anyone here at the monastery hearing you two, as far as you cared, you and Cole were the only people in Ninjago at this point. All of your senses seemed to be completely filled by the man anyways.
The feeling of his licking, sucking, and biting along your neck combined with his rough abuse of your pussy brought you close to your third climax of the night which might be a record for you.
“C-Cole, I’m-I’m close.” You whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you.
“God, me too.” He moaned against your neck. Cole was determined to not let go until you had, so he reached a hand down to start playing with your clit as he continued fucking into you. That absolutely sent you over the edge and you screamed as you came all over Cole’s cock. He continued thrusting into you throughout your orgasm which only made it feel that much better. His hips began stuttering in their movements and he was quick to pull himself out of the vice grip your pussy had on him. Cole wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked himself off the rest of the way until his cum started landing on your stomach. He let out tiny grunts as he fucked into his hand a bit before letting go.
You made sure he was looking at you when you scooped up some of his release and licked it off your fingers. He really had to save that image for the next time he masterbated.
Before he even allowed himself to lay down next to you, Cole carefully got up and reached for the towel you had used earlier to dry yourself off and used it to wipe his release off of your stomach, a small ‘sorry’ leaving his mouth as he did so. He was cute. 
Finally, his body dropped harshly at your side and you giggled tiredly at him. Cole rolled over to look at you and you held your arms open, a silent question for him to come cuddle you. 
His strong arms wrapped around your body and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. Cole found where your covers started and threw them over the both of you which only made you snuggle in even closer to him.
You two sat there in silence for so long, just catching your breaths, that you nearly fell asleep.
“Hey, [name].” You startled at the sound of his voice. A non-committal ‘hm?’ is what you hummed in response and he just rested his nose on the top of your head in your hair. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”
A content sigh left your lips and you sleepily looked up, causing him to remove his head from its place. “Of course, Cole.” One of your hands slipped out from under the covers and cradled one of his cheeks. You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on the other cheek. 
“Now, let’s get some sleep. We can talk about the details later.” You said through a yawn and he just smiled at you fondly. You both returned to your previous positions and slowly drifted off, and for once, neither of you felt fear or dread for what was to come in the future.
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minhosimthings · 9 days
Note
I dont know if you accept a req now but... fresh grad worker! (jake or hyunjin) × ojt student y/n. Y/n was assigned to (jake or hyunjin) to train her but yn like riding (jake or hyunjin) in his swivel chair. (Jake or Hyunjin)'s work desk cubicle is in kinda hidden in the corner. (cockwarming, cowgirl, softdom!(jake or hj))
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Me quedo Mirandote || 18+
Pairings: Hyunjin × fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, 18+, thigh riding, degradation, 1% sir kink because I can, orgasm control eyy, cock riding, unprotected sex (zont zo it), mention of blood, fingering, praise, semi-public sex, role-play ish situation?, Use of petnames 'doll', overstimulation, dom!Hyunjin, sub!reader, swearing, reader wears a dress
A/N: This was such a hot thing to write omg I love your brain annonie. Also I am shit at writing riding things so FORGIVE ME IF ITS NOT SATISFACTORY. Also for my beloved @astraystayyh (who is probably still stuck with Hyune's ponytail)
Never in a million years would you ever have thought that you'd be fixing your frizzied hair and ruined lipstick in your soon-to-be office's bathroom, but here you were, your lipstick three shades lighter and your white dress all ruined.
And no one would ever question how Hwang Hyunjin's shirt had the exact same lipstick shade stains on it. Why would they? A playboy never loses his instincts, even if he's freshly graduated and teaching the only on- the-job student with full responsibility.
The fortunate student being you.
And it wasn't to say Hyunjin wasn't fortunate as well. You were compliant, perhaps even exactly like him. He wondered how you had ever managed to get through your classes so well during the day and get through him during the cool intoxicating nights.
Another thing Hyunjin was fortunate to have was his "private office". And by office, he meant his own comfortably small cubicle, which was far away from the prying eyes of his co-workers. It was weird for a fresh out of school student to have his own cubicle, but he guessed that his workplace valued privacy to an extreme level, so much so that his "office" hid discarded red laces, tainted white silks and on the job students perfectly.
"And that's how you write up a summary for the graphs of the month." Hyunjin clapped his hands together, trying not to sound overly positive, as you stared dead eyed into the computer screen. Hyunjin had been explaining the concept to you for an hour now, and although you'd been standing resting your chin on his head, you were mentally exhausted.
"Doll, you doing alright?" Hyunjin cocked a brow at you, standing up to your level, arms going to your waist as if it was his daily routine. Well, technically it was his daily routine.
"Do I look like I'm doing alright?" You scoffed, eyes flittering between Hyunjin's eyes and lips, "Don't I deserve a promotion for all the work I've done Sir?"
Hyunjin's lips morphed into a slow smirk at your widened lamb eyes and your 'good girl' pout. His hands gripped into your skin tighter, as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your neck.
"You're just a student Y/N. I can't give you a promotion so quick." He smirked into the nape of your neck, knowing what was coming next. How couldn't he? With how many times, his favourite 'employee' had begged on her knees to get a 'promotion'.
"But sir haven't I been a good girl?" You whispered, staring at Hyunjin's plump lips, "I even wore the dress you bought me." You motioned towards your clearly visible cleavage in your summer dress, one of Hyunjin's most favourite painting topics.
Your hands went up to his luscious locks of hair, which were tied up into a ponytail with two flicks framing his face perfectly. God, his hair was as soft as cotton, you thought, a complete contrast to how he behaved once you were suffocating his length with your pussy.
Hyunjin's hands slid down to your ass and pulled your hips against his body, your hand pressing against his desk. It made the dress you were wearing ride up your thighs, exposing your panties. His hot lips moved away from yours and down to your neck, kissing and gently biting the delicate skin. You let out a little gasp and arched your neck, it felt divine.
“Doll, with the way you're gasping now, I wonder what you'd do once I actually start with the usual." Hyunjin chuckled darkly, pressing a rough, carnivorous kiss to your lips, "fuck—be a good girl for me now."
Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss and sat back on his chair, leaning as prosaic as he could against it, and rubbing his hand over his thigh, ever so cordially inviting you over to him. Why would you ever refuse? It was your favourite place to be at any chance you got. Some days, that's the only place you wanted to be, on a hot lazy day, when you wanted nothing more than Hyunjin to shut up about presentations and slides and spread out his leg for you.
You manoeuvred yourself so that your covered but damp core met with Hyunjin's thigh, the hem of your dress gracefully swooped over his thigh, as you parted your legs enough to let your clit brushing against the fabric. The contact caused your mouth to fall open in a silent sigh.
"Already?" Hyunjin clicked his tongue, "That's sort of pathetic don't you think doll?"
From this angle you looked pretty to Hyunjin with your head thrown back, pupils blown out with lust and a prominent blush on your face. It made the animalistic side in Hyunjin, ravenous for more.
Hyunjin adjusted his position on the chair, your loud mewl made him chuckle and press a kiss to your forehead. You hands went up to grip his soft, ebony hair, which was tied perfectly in a ponytail. Well, tied perfectly, until you ran your hands through the follicles, throwing the hair band off, and continuing to grip his open hair tightly. Your grip made Hyunjin silently moan.
"Feel that?" He lifted a cocky brow at your pleasured expression, "It's just for you, doll."
Slowly you began rocking your hips back and forth, letting your clit get maximum friction against the clothed barriers. Your hands gripped at his shirt now tightly, leaving tiny creases all along as you chased your release.
Somewhere along the way, Hyunijn had abandoned his work and had turned all of his attention on you, gripping your hips harshly, digging marks, guiding it along his thigh while pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. The chair was creaking worse than a wooden bed, but there wasn't a care in the world for that.
Hyunjin's hands move up your thighs towards your hips pushing you harder against his thigh gaining more melodic moans from your mouth.
You rut yourself faster against him, moaning louder and louder until you finally reach what you thought was your peak.
"Hyunjin," you whined, his kisses descend even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.
"Fuck," you sigh out, when Hyunjin grabs your breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, his hands moving your hips harder and faster against him, your orgasm building swiftly at his actions.
"Beg for it darling." Hyunjin's sadistic smile hit your face, "Be a good slut, and beg for your cum."
"Hyune-fuck!" You moaned out as his thigh gave a little flick upwards, "please Hyunjin—"
"So desperate," he mumbles, tone laced with dominance, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you. "So wet," he adds, doing as you asked and sliding his finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against.
"Come for me," he husks out, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching, as your legs trembled, hips rocking at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on his thigh at the exhaustion of coming so hard.
Your chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath, as you steadied yourself on Hyunjin's thigh, leaning your head towards his shoulder, from how dizzy you were. Being a cowgirl really took a lot of energy from you.
As you were getting ready to stand up, you felt Hyunjin's arm grip ours tightly.
"So soon, pretty?" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, biting your lip, he could taste salty blood on them, "I'm not even half done."
“Come here,” Hyunjin demanded as he pulled your arm. You move around from the back of the chair as he pushes it out a bit from the table.
“Oh baby. Aren’t you just deliciously naughty?” he says as his finger slips in between your folds to find you positively dripping. “Is this all for me?” he asks as he starts to rub your clit in slow circular movements. The stimulation was killing you, yet you obliged, dumbly nodding along to Hyunjin's words.
“So greedy,” he whispers. He slips his finger from your pussy, his hands come up to your shoulders, and he pushes the dress off of them.
“Come here and sit on my cock,” he says with that lopsided smirk you love so much.
Lifting yourself up a little, you line him up with your entrance, and then you sit back down and let him slide into your wet, needy pussy. Filling you so perfectly. Stretching you completely. You slowly sink down onto him, as he grips your waist harder, holding you down.
“You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest.
“Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.
"Fuck,” Hyunjin groans. And then you start to move. Slowly, up and down. Your hands rest on his hair for leverage as you bounce yourself on his cock.
Your tight grip on his hair makes Hyunjin throw his head back slightly, his eyes almost rolling to the back with the sheer amount of pleasure he was recieving from your hands running through his locks.
"Fuck—baby keep doing that." He mumbles, not even sure if you've heard it, you probably did as was evident from your now tighter grip, your fingers dancing their pretty ballet through Hyunjin's velvety hair.
Hyunjin grabs a tight hold of your hips, and he lifts you up a little before he starts to thrust up into you. Harder and faster than you managed. Pounding into you over and over.
"Fuck—Hyunjin!" You gasp, a little louder than usual, "touch me—please." Your begs elated Hyunjin, how could he refuse? He shakes his hand from your hip and presses his fingers to your cunt.
His motions on your clit are as frantic as his thrusts into you. Pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
And with a final buck into you so deep that he nudged your cervix as his thumb pressed down on your clit, you both cum. Hard and fast.
Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his cock. The orgasm rips through you at such intensity that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you scream out his name. His cock twitches as his cum spurts inside you.
Hyunjin tilts his head to rest on your chest as he tries to catch his breath, and he moans out your name. You kiss him softly at the top of his head. Your fingers are raking through his hair as you try to calm your own breathing down to normal.
"You've made such a mess." Hyunjin chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, "my messy girl."
"How about those graphs now, Mr Hwang?" You asked, a tint of cockishness smeared in your voice.
"Graphs?" Hyunjin laughed, gripping your hips again.
"We're not even a quarter done yet, doll."
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hanniluvi · 2 months
Text
BITTERSWEET DELUSIONS — JAY ONESHOT
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— you still exist in jay’s world. you’re still here, he believes, yet he doesn’t want to face the real truth. you’ll still stick with him, right?
pairing ⋆ 𖦹 ‧ best friend!jay x best friend!fem reader
(_ _ ) . . z Z % genre : angst, best friends to ???
warnings : mentions of diagnosis of disorder
feat. ᥫ᭡ : jake (enhypen) | word count : 1.4K (1408 words)
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — no way, soph is going on a posting streak??? only the proofreaders remember this fic 🙏 LMAO idk why i didnt post this sooner — i kinda forgot about it and would always scroll right past it in my drafts (or i never see it cause i dont scroll that far down) this has been stuck in drafts since may 25 2023 😊 BUT this is finally released !
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"Whoever loses has to buy lunch for the other person!" Your words echoed as you sprinted along the sidewalk. Glancing behind, you noticed Jay's bewildered expression while you dashed ahead. The black cat keychain swung side to side with each stride you took.
"That's not fair! You started running first!" Jay remarked, observing your increasing distance with a smirk. As usual, he swiftly caught up, transitioning from being far behind to directly trailing you. His sudden voice surprised you, causing a gasp to escape your lips.
"How did you—?" Before you could finish, Jay leaped onto you, causing both of you to tumble onto the ground. Instead of getting upset, laughter erupted from both of you. Clutching your sides and still pinned beneath Jay, you playfully nudged him aside.
Feigning offense, Jay's expression elicited more laughter from you. He smiled, captivated by your radiant smile and how you wiped away tears of joy. He wished he could witness this pretty sight every day.
"Shall we start over?" you proposed, smirking once more.
Beep Beep.
Jay's eyes shot open, startled by the sudden sight. He gasped for air, his heart racing. Anxiously, he fumbled for the towel placed beside his bed, using it to dab away the sweat clinging to his forehead. Tossing it back in place, he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a sense of emptiness wash over him.
Oh how he could wish he could start over with you.
With groggy eyes, he tries to make out the numbers on his digital clock.
9:15 AM.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He had another dream about you, a bittersweet one. Or, should he call it a nightmare? Every time he dreams about you, a wave of guilt crushes over him, even if it’s not his fault. Staring at the blank expanse of his white wall, he reluctantly rose to begin his day.
Jay made his way to the bathroom, methodically rolling up his sleeves. As he turned on the tap, he cupped his hands to splash water on his face, revitalizing his senses. Wiping the water off his face, he noticed a new notification on his phone. Curiosity piqued, he glanced at the screen to find a text from Jake, compelling him to click and read the message.
“You wanna meet up?”
Grasping his phone, Jay contemplated his response. After thoughtful consideration, he finally typed out his reply, observing the words before hitting send: "Sure, where?" Suddenly, with a plan to hang out and no longer a day filled with nothing, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Placing his phone on the counter, he resumed his morning routine, knowing that today held a purpose.
Running a comb through his hair, he meticulously arranged each strand, allowing them to gracefully cascade across his face.
It's a hairstyle you adored on him, often playfully brushing the strands away and commenting on how handsome he looked.
As he selects his attire, he opts for a simple combination of beige pants and a brown cardigan, a wistful sigh escaping his lips.
The colors hold a special significance, reminiscent of the times you praised how well they suited him. In an attempt to hold onto a piece of your presence, he chooses to wear lighter shades day after day.
Preparing to leave the house, he reaches for his cologne, spritzing a few times with a bittersweet smile.
Jay recalls how you held strong opinions about his fragrance choices, finding some too subtle and others too overpowering. However, this particular scent held a special place in your heart, and he remembers the joy it brought you. Since you mentioned it, he always made sure to keep that bottle in his possession, a subtle gesture made solely for you.
Exhaustion engulfed him, as the burden of the world settled upon his shoulders, relentlessly crushing his spirit. The weight of it all became insurmountable, rendering him a prisoner within the confines of his own room.
Every breath felt like a futile struggle, an agonizing reminder of the impossibility of escape from the torment inflicted by your absence.
Ignoring his thoughts, Jay steps outside his house, a rush of nostalgia flooding his senses as he inserts earbuds into his ears. The gentle caress of a fresh breeze momentarily grants him a fleeting sensation of freedom, but it quickly gives way to a surge of overwhelming emotions.
Each stride feels burdened, as if his body rebels against venturing into a world that still echoes with your memory, causing a subtle frown to etch upon his face. It serves as a constant reminder of the connection he once shared, amplifying the weight of your disappearance.
Despite knowing deep down that you wanted something better for him, Jay finds himself trapped in the inability to move on. He's trying with all his might, and today is no exception.
As he crosses the bustling streets, a soft, melancholic melody seeps through his earbuds, the gentle beats mirroring the fragments of you slipping away, gradually causing him to lose himself in the process. The sidewalks grow increasingly crowded, forcing Jay to navigate through the swarm of people, squeezing his way past them in a bid to move forward.
Placing his earbuds back into their case, he retrieves his phone and scrolls through his contacts until he finds Jake's name. With a mix of anticipation, he dials the number and brings the phone to his ear, the ringing echoing on the other end. His gaze scans the surroundings, desperately searching for any sign of his best friend's familiar presence.
Amidst the sea of faces, Jay's eyes lock onto a figure in the distance, stirring a glimmer of hope within him. Squinting, he desperately tries to discern the features, momentarily believing it to be Jake. But as he looks again, his heart sinks. It's not Jake; it's someone else entirely. Yet, their back, the way they stand, the clothes they wear—everything resembles you, frozen in time since the day you vanished. His eyes widened in disbelief, momentarily forgetting the call with Jake.
It was you.
There was no denying that that black keychain was yours, you guys had matching ones.
He could spot it anywhere, he knows.
Igniting an urgent determination, Jay pushes through the crowd, disregarding the pleas of his best friend on the other end of the line. He runs closer, his voice cracking as he calls out, desperately pleading for people to clear a path, oblivious to their bewildered gazes and startled reactions.
All that matters in that moment is the possibility of finding you, of reuniting, even if just for a fleeting second.
“Y/N!”
No response.
“Y/N!”
No response still. Just you moving farther and farther from him.
Farther.
and Farther.
He's on the verge of reaching you, his heart pounding in his chest, but among the overwhelming crowds flooding the streets, he loses sight of you. A rasping cough escapes his throat, his vision blurred by tears, and the last glimpse he ever catches is of your retreating back.
All he could see was your keychain, swinging from side to side. But this time, he couldn’t chase after you.
He can’t see your face again, can’t hear your laugh again, and can’t hear you request for another race.
You had won.
You had finally won the race.
So, why do you keep leaving him?
Why can't you simply return and reassure him that everything will be alright?
“Jay? Jay, listen to me.” a voice pierces through the haze, calling him back to reality.
He lifts his gaze from the black cat keychain in his hand, finding his psychologist looking at him with a gentle smile.
Confusion mingles with emptiness as he sits in the suffocating confines of a small room, engaging in a conversation he has no desire to partake in.
"Where's Y/N?" he finally manages to utter, his voice tinged with desperation, causing a slight frown to crease the psychologist's brow.
"She's not here anymore, Jay," the psychologist responds, and an irritated expression flickers across Jay's face, disbelief etched in his features.
"No, she is. She's still here!" he insists, his voice growing louder, his anxiety showing up with his bitten, peeled lips. "You just don't understand!" He confronts his helper with a mix of aggression and frustration, seeking validation.
“She’s going to come back. I just saw her earlier—even though she disappeared before I could talk to her, I know she’ll come back to see me.”
His psychologist sighs, holding onto their clipboard. Clicking onto their pen, they swiftly scribbled the words:
Delusional Disorder.
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ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
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slutforgarlogan · 2 months
Text
"You can check if you like" | Peter Maximoff x F! Reader
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Summary: Peter comes back from a mission with a wound and you patch him up. He takes the opportunity to tease you.
Warnings: nsfw content, fingering, teasing, Peter being a cocky asshole
"Oh my god what happened to you?" you jump up from your seat when the team gets back from their mission, noticing the bleeding coming from your boyfriends head. You'd be lying if you said he didn't look hot all bloodied up, but you were too concerned with his wellbeing to indulge in the urge to make out with him.
Peter gives you his usual cocky smile, ignoring your concern "I'm fine babe, its just a scratch." You aren't convinced, but you know he wont go back on the statement, ever the cocky bitch despite his constant dramatics. You raise an eyebrow at him to indicate you dont believe him, "Please just let me look at it anyway"
Peter rolls his eyes and groans, smiling at you playfully while he does so - but he doesn't protest and takes you to one of the bathrooms with a fwip.
Though he does that all the time, you never expect it - and the speed always makes you feel ill and disoriented. You take a second to ground yourself, before getting the first aid things out of the bathroom cabinet to sort him out, and speaking to him as you rifle through it. "You're okay everywhere else yeah, nothing got through your suit?"
"You can check if you like" His tone is suggestive and he wiggles his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes at his answer - taking that as a no. He watches you for a second, and then sits down on the closed toilet lid before you have the chance to tell him to.
You move to stand in front of him, subconsciously situating yourself between his legs where he was practically manspread, and you push his goggles onto the top of his head, trying to make sure his hair stays tucked under them and out the way. The cut looks deep, and you wince a little thinking about it. You lock eyes with him as you pick up a little cotton pad and alcohol to clean the wound - you've done this a fair few times and he knows the drill, but you warn him regardless. "It's gonna sting a second Quickie"
You press the alochol soaked cotton pad on the wound, making sure to be gentle, and Peter grips onto the nearest thing when you do so, which happens to be your thigh. The feel of his hand on you shoots to your core immediately, and your breath hitches for half a second before you catch yourself and ignore it. You keep cleaning the wound, eventually moving on to clean the dried blood around it, and Peters leg is bouncing as he starts to get bored and restless.
You lock eyes with him and lean back a second. "Peter, sit still, find something in here to distract yourself im nearly done i promise" There's a certain look in his eye when he looks at you, and you can see an idea forming in his head, and you worry slightly what ridiculous idea you've accidentally caused him to have, but you get back to what you're doing anyway.
As you grab a roll of bandaid and scissors to cut it down to fit the wound, you feel a hand at the top of your thigh, fingers hooking into your panties to get them down a little - you try to ignore it and focus on finishing what you're doing, holding the roll up unrolling a little bit to see how much you need.
You hear a little cocky laugh from Peter as his finger prods at your folds and you could have ripped his suit off him there and then. But you try not to react, steadying your breathing before you look at him. "Whats funny"
He looks up at you, a shit eating grin on his face. "You're so wet and i haven't even touched you"
A pink shade dusks over your cheeks as you roll your eyes, in your head you know exactly what made you wet, but you know he'll poke fun at you for it so you don't tell him. "Shut up"
You cut a bit of a bandaid off the roll, big enough to fit the wound, and as you do so, he slides a finger into you, thrusting it in and out at a painfully slow pace - but he doesnt take long to slide a second finger in. He is still in his suit, and the gloves of the suit feel weird. The feeling is foreign but good. Your breathing goes a bit shaky as you try to concentrate, putting the roll down and picking up the bit you cut off, flipping it around to peel the back off, struggling a little fiddling with it.
Peter speeds up his fingers, curling them inside you to hit the spot that makes you whine a little, earning the same shit eating grin as before as he makes sure to keep hitting that spot. He brings his other hand to circle your clit as you finally get the back off the band aid, and you moan out as he draws figure 8's over the sensitive bud. "Fuckk Peter"
You stick the band-aid over the wound carefully but quickly, placing your hands on his shoulders as soon as you're done, breathing heavily and whimpering a bit. "Peter please"
He speeds up the finger on your clit, practically vibrating it and you moan loudly, legs shaking as you try hold yourself up properly and your walls clench around his fingers a little.
Thats when he stops. You look at him with pleading eyes "What the fuck"
He laughs a little "You've finsihed patching me up"
You look at him dumbfounded and annoyed, you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you.
"You wanna check under my suit now?"
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urfavnegronerd · 9 months
Text
agape- nicholas britell
summary: miles is takin down ur braids 
published: july 27, 2023
warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes
sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me
w/c: 1.5 k
reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3
i think this something every black boy be needin deep down
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“Stop movin, ma” 
“It’s knotty,” 
“You had these in for how long?” 
Silence. 
“There's your answer right there, mama,”  
“Sorry,” 
“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,” 
Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore. 
“Miles?” 
He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back  
“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,” 
“Shut up” 
“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” 
“Nuh-uh,” 
“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.” 
“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist 
“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap. 
“Stop doin that shit, ma” 
“What?” 
“Talkin all crazy like that,” 
“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,” 
“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,” 
“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?” 
“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”  
“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,” 
“It’s nothin,” 
You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment. 
“Ion like this,” 
“What?” 
“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,” 
“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,” 
“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?” 
“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,” 
“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.  
“Baby, I’m all for that but–” 
“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?” 
A silence. 
“Baby.” 
“What?” 
“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,” 
“Aint nobody say allat–” 
“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?” 
“Ma–” 
“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,” 
“You done?” 
“Yeah,”  
“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.  
“ ‘s oil all up on my hands” 
“No me importa ma, come up on here,”  
Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes. 
“Talk to me, mama,” 
“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.” 
“Why you even talk like this to me?” 
“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,” 
At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up. 
“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,” 
You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.
“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”  
“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,” 
“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,” 
“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,” 
“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,” 
Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.” 
“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.  
“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,” 
“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart. 
“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,” 
He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.  
“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,” 
“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes. 
“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”  
His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek. 
“I love you,” 
And then he’s sobbing. 
“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child. 
He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot. 
Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you. 
“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest. 
“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay? 
He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes. 
“You so beautiful Miles.” 
And this time, he nods. 
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🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3
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koolades-world · 3 months
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Okay follow me here what if jealous mammon is like why dont you ask x to do that with you? You're spending a lot of time with them. And mc just responds with they're not you
AHHH so cute
I'm 100% following gahhh that "they're not you" line is SO good
Us
You finally arrived home after RAD, giggling with Asmo. It had been mostly boring, but at least you shared most of your classes with Asmo. He never failed to make everything more interesting. He not only made group assignments fun and colorful, he even made silent, individual assignments better with lots of texts back and forth.
Weirdly enough, you hadn't seen Mammon today. You didn't have as many classes with him, but you always made it a point to spend some time with him when possible. But, you couldn't find him anywhere. You also didn't get a response to any of your texts to him. After you were done talking to Asmo, you decided to make it a point to find him.
"Mc! Look at how cute this outfit is!" Asmo snapped you out of thought by showing you his DDD. It was Majolish Devilgram with a post with their latest stock.
"That belt is so you! The pink is just your shade." You take the DDD from him to look at the post closer.
"I know, right? We should go today before they sell out! They know me, and will probably set some aside for me, but if they did that forever, how would they make a profit?" He laughed, tucking the DDD back in his pocket. Before you could respond, you caught a flash of white at the top of the stairs. You remembered that you hadn't seen Mammon all day, and in hopes that it was him, you decided to see if you could find him.
"Actually, do you mind waiting a little? I just remembered I have something I need to check on." You glance towards the stairs again but see nothing.
"Oh, of course! You know, if its Levi you want to check on, just know he's still alive. I texted him this morning. Just be back soon! Those clothes won't try themselves on. Let me know when you're ready to leave." Asmo gave you a quick hug, before walking off in the direction of the living room.
As soon as he was out of sight, you made your way up the stairs and in the general direction of that something that caught your eye. You began to wander around upstairs, in hopes of finding the white haired demon that had been on your mind all day. The door to Mammon's room was shut, but a light was streaming out from underneath it. Gently, you knock.
"Mammon? Are you in there?" There was no response, but you heard movement in the room. "I can hear you in there. Is something wrong?" You can hear more shuffling around before the door finally opens.
"What?" Mammon asked sharply. You're stunned for a moment. You've never heard him use that tone with you before.
"Are you ok?" You ignore the way he addressed you and continued.
"I don't know. How's Asmo?" His tone was dripping with malice.
"What's gotten into you?" You raise your voice a little, confused. He turned away from you.
"Don't you have somewhere to be with Asmo?" He walked further into his room, away from you. You step into his room after him and shut the door behind you.
"He did want to go to Majolish later, but it can wait. I can't go anywhere without checking up on you." You keep walking after him as he sit down on his bed with force.
"Just go then. I'm clearly not worth your time." He turns his body away from you. He sounds more upset than anything at this point. You sit beside him and put an arm around him.
"I don't know what you're talking about, but please, help me help you." You lean to try and look at his face, but give up once he makes it clear he doesn't want you to.
"If you like Asmo that much, just go be with him." He huffs. His voice is quiet with emotion seeping into it.
"Mammon. He's not you." He stiffened like he'd been shocked. "No matter how much time I may spend with your brothers, or anyone for that matter, they come no where close to being you. You were my first friend here, and you made me feel at home away from home. You were my first pact. We have a special bond that's so precious to me. Most importantly, you're my first man. Not Asmo. Not anyone else. You." He turns back to you, his eyes glazed over with tears that threatened to spill. "Is that what you needed to hear? Because it's all true." He turns his entire body towards you and tackles you into a hug. You can't see his expression anymore, but from the way he fiercely cuddles you to his chest, you can tell how happy he is.
"I- I'm sorry." He hesitates at first. After taking a deep breath, he continues. "It was stupid. I just saw ya hanging out with Asmo a lot lately, and I jumped to conclusions." He hides his head into your shoulder.
"There's no need to apologize for how you feel, Mams. Just try to be a little more open next time. I was worried, you know." You feel him happily sigh into your shoulder at the nickname. You rub his back soothingly.
"I will. 'm sorry for scarin' ya." Before you can tell him he doesn't need to apologize again, he continues. "Will ya stay with me? I don't care if ya bring homework or whatever into my room, I just want yer company." He holds himself tightly to you as you try to push off of him a little to look at him.
"Of course." You decided to hold him for a bit longer, to reassure him he was the only man for you.
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