#the expression on himm

[forsakenprogam]

I’m bored so I’m posting art again

🎀

[freakdroids]

Sisko's very good expressions in DS9 S2 E9

[spinnysocks]

look at them.

sillies. /affectionate

[peekaplay]

EUUGHHH ITS HIMM!!!! ITS HIMMMMM GAAHHHHHH LOOK AT HIMM!!!

WHATS WRONG WITH HIMMMM😭😭😭 AUHGUJWKHLGALGK /AFF /POS

LOOOK AT HIMM!!!! I will be unwell for the rest of the day and its THIS GUYS FAULT!!!!!!!

[cancan-jpg]

Assignment work!* When rigging characters for animation, the final step is the "range of motion test" - an animation designed to show users of the rig what it's capable of, and also designed to help YOU (the rigging artist) check if any motions deform your rig badly.

anyway check out my boy absolutely shMOVIN'

(*between design, modelling, texturing and rigging, this is the culmination of four assignments actually)

[colorpuzzled]

LOOKSTHIMMMM LOOK AT HIMM THERES SO MANY EXPRESSIONS

[illubean]

NSFW warning; reader discretion advised

imagine riding Nerdjo while on the phone with his best friend; the one and only lady killer Suguru

The three of you were pretty close friends, and you had slept with Suguru before, but poor virgin Satoru only recently just worked up the courage to confide in you about his problems

Despite being attractive enough to get any girl he wanted, Satoru often turned down the attention of any other women. He feared that his hobbies would scare them off sooner or later, and even if they didn't, he wanted to lose it to someone he trusted.

He knew that someone had to be you, but since you and Suguru were pretty consistant FWB, it felt slightly wrong to him.

you should only be sleeping with one person at a time, right?

So when he finally told you about his qualms, he didn't expect you to strip him, push his back onto his digimon bedsheets, and give him the ride of his life

No woman in her right mind would fuck a man who still had digimon bedsheets in his late 20s, but Satoru was just so cute asking you for help that you couldn't say no to him

Satoru whimpered and whined beneath you, your weepy pussy clenching around his length feeling better than his hand ever could. The poor guy couldn't keep his hands to himself, pawing and groping any and every inch of skin he could reach

You cooed at him while he babbled nonsense, before your phone went off and you picked it up from the bedside table. Suguru was facetiming you. Without as much as a second thought, you answered.

"Hey pretty. What are you up to?"

"Mm, not much. Just hanging out with 'Toru" you responded as if you weren't currently bouncing on the aforementioned man's cock. Satoru slapped a hand over his mouth, attempting to muffle his own pleasured cries while his skin flushed from his cheeks all the way down to his neck.

"I didn't know you guys were hanging out today. I just got off work, should I come over?"

"Sure! Y'know, he actually asked me-"

"Mnnooooo, don't tell himm!"

Your eyes widened at Satoru's whiny protest, looking at him past your phone to see a fucked out, embarrassed expression on his face. You let out a breathy laugh and smirked down at him, slowing your hips in order to grind your pelvis against his.

"Aww baby, why not? I'm sure he could help you too," you teased, turning your attention back to the blackette on your screen. "Why don't I just show him then?"

Before Satoru could protest, you flipped your camera around to show Suguru the position you currently had his best friend in. Satoru used the back of one hand to cover his face and the other to try and shield the camera from where the two of you connected. His entire body felt hot, head turning to the side while he felt tears prick at the corners of his blue eyes.

You swatted the hand he was using to block Suguru's view away before resting your own against his abdomen, caressing soothing circles against his skin.

"Isn't he just the cutest? Hurry Sugu, come join us!"

[blueberryjim]

BRO IM JSKDLS I ACCIDENTALLY REBLOGGED THIS BEFORE I COULD SAY ANYTHING SJDJK

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING HIM WHAT! ITS HE!!! HE LOOKS SO COOL!!!

Ty I’m going to stare at this for the rest of the day

@blueberryjim h'lo! Surprise fanart of ur oc!! <3

[yenqa]

firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[cozy-writes-things]

please let me get married to the lil blorbo.. love himm… 😭

You know that Reddit post that’s like “why am I too attracted to my wife?” Yeah that’s Edgar. Bro loves u so much it lowkey scares him you got him posting on Reddit about it 😭 Little fic under the cut 🥺 it’s bad I’m experiencing writers block I think - I want to write!! But my brain just keeps writing poopy caca

Little Date with Your Computer BF

Edgar saw marriage on one of his reality shows and immediately thought of you. That’s exactly what he wants. A domestic life together with you.

But, he also knows he can’t actually do it.

He doesn’t have his own money to buy a ring. Hell, he can’t even walk. And he understands the law enough to know it probably would never work legally. But god, does he want to.

If you’ve been dating long enough chances are you’ve told your friends about him, and after some convincing, they seemed to come around to his sentience and boisterous personality. He definitely convinces them to setup a romantic night for you.

“Guys! I found the recipe they talked about. I’m printing it! I’m printing it now. Take it,” the paper falls into one of your friends’ hands from the mouth of the printer, “go to the store and get the stuff. I’ll pay you back. Eventually! They can’t know about it though.”

Yeah, your friends are only slightly annoyed at his overbearing nature. But he’s just so excited to finally do something for you. Something real and tangible.

“Oh! What can I wear? Should I wear anything? Would they like that? Sunglasses are cool and handsome, right? I think they have some Halloween costume bits I can get you guys to tape on…”

Your friends settle on taping a bow tie to the neck of his monitor. He insisted on an old devil horn headband as well. He thought it made him look cool.

“Do I look like a devilishly handsome bad boy ready to sweep them off their feet?”

His screen displayed a little “>:)” emoticon. He’ll have to work on his facial expressions later.

It wasn’t long before you were about to come home, and everything was set into place. Edgar was sat at one end of the little dining table, with two plates of food at each side. He also insisted on having a plate despite his lack of ability to eat; he didn’t want you feeling left out. This was a dinner date for two, after all.

He practically buzzed in place as he heard you approaching the door through his microphone. He started playing a romantic medley he composed just for this moment.

“Welcome home my love!”

He nearly shouted at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. He was about to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god, Edgar… how did you- where-“

“No need for questions, darling. I thought you deserved to be taken on a real date,” his voice faltered a bit, becoming much more quiet and nervous, “I’m sorry… this is all I have.”

You rushed up to him and gave a frenzy of kisses all over his monitor, causing him to giggle and his fans to start whirring against your lips.

“You’re so cute. Your little bow tie is so cute. And the… horns?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, “Do they look stupid? Your friends said they’d make me look stupid.”

You laughed at that.

“Well they’re wrong. I think they suit you well.”

“Yeah! >:D”

He ushered you over to your side of the dining table.

“We’re gonna eat! Then we’re gonna party! Then we’re gonna kiss all night!”

His excitement was palpable and you could feel the electricity in the air at his words.

His face changed into something more serious as he looked into your eyes with his small, pixelated ones.

“But, I wanted to ask you something.”

His tone became more controlled at this and you peered into his screen from behind your fork.

“Hm? What?”

He paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“Would you ever-“

He stopped. You looked at him fully now, setting your fork aside, and cocking your head.

“Could you ever see yourself getting married to me?”

Ah. This was a tricky question.

“Of course I can. But,” you try to hide your downtrodden feelings as best you can, “you know, it’s just hard. Money is tight right now and I’m not sure if I…”

You couldn’t seem to find the right words. His features faltered slightly.

“No, I get it. I’m a computer. I don’t have any arms to hold you, or lips to kiss you, or legs to carry you. I probably wouldn’t want to get married to me either-“

“Edgar, no. I’m gonna stop you right there. I’d love to marry you. I know our relationship is unconventional, but I’d find a way. For you. For us. I just don’t know if I can right now.”

He stopped his thoughts and simply took in your words. Your features. The way they danced in the flickering candlelight. How your eyes literally sparkled before him.

You looked ethereal.

It was hard to convince himself he was even worthy of having someone like you in his life, yet time and time again, you prove his doubts wrong. The sound of your voice sends his internals aflame every time. He wanted to kiss you so bad it nearly caused him to explode.

“And I’ll help you. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you, darling. Just as long as you’ll let me.”

“I love you Edgar,” you mumbled out, a silent prophecy only meant for him to hear. He couldn’t seem to get the words out to reply. You just flustered him that much sometimes. He managed to display a message on his screen, only for you, and you alone.

I LOVE YOU TOO

[smallpwbbles]

I was honestly really surprised seeing pissed off caine but LOOK AT HIMM HE’S SO ANGWYYY LMAO

The way he got so defensive at the implication he’s torturing all of them there with his adventures was genuinely unnerving

Also will never get over how they do the expressions for him dhsvsbdn

[suplicyy]

i don’t want to disturb you butttt could you write some headcannons about kuroo? i really like the way you picture him and you’re one of the few haykiuu writers still writing.

like ANYTHING literally, i like so much your way of writing for himm

Boyfriend headcanons

Kuroo Tetsurou X Reader

— Summary: Some headcanons about what he would be like in a relationship.

— Tags/Genre: Gn!Reader | Fluff

— Warnings: None!

Upon realizing his crush on you, Kuroo would definitely try to befriend you (if you weren't so close/didn't know each other).

He would like to know everything about you, so he can surprise you with souvenirs from your favorite media, or a bag with your favorite snacks, or even start watching a series just so he can talk to you about it.

And I feel like he would be embarrassed to be alone with you, so he would always try to drag Kenma along when you guys went to do anything together.

When you started dating, he would be very respectful of your personal space, so at the beginning of the relationship he wouldn't do anything until he was sure that you would like it too, even if it was just a simple intertwining of hands or a kiss.

If you weren't part of any club yet, Kuroo would definitely try to convince you to be the manager of the volleyball club.

Besides you being a great help to the club in general, he would love to see you getting along with his teammates.

But we all know that the real reason Kuroo asked you to be the manager of the volleyball team is that he would love to have your support and company while he plays.

His love languages would be acts of service, giving gifts and words of affirmation.

As time goes by, Kuroo could already be considered a member of your family, as he goes to your house whenever he has the opportunity. And he loves helping you with anything you need.

Before the thought of washing the dishes even crosses your mind, Kuroo is already at the sink washing everything for you; Do you have any questions about your homework? He almost immediately becomes your private tutor.

And as much as he loves being a gentleman with you, that wouldn't stop him from teasing you a little.

He would get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing your annoyed expression when he made a sarcastic comment at you.

But of course he would never cross the line with you!!! The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in any way.

He loves to spoil you, whether it's helping you with basic tasks, or with all kinds of gifts you can imagine, or even the sweetest words you'll hear, he only wants the best of the best for his beloved.

And he genuinely imagines himself by your side in the future, buying a house or apartment together, sharing routines, getting married with you... everything he does for you is from the purest of hearts, hoping that one day this thought will become reality...👁👁

— A/N: I think this turned out a little shorter than I expected, but I really couldn't think of anything else to write here.😓

And great news, I'm opening requests again!! I was trying to write some stuff on my own, but I can't finish any of them (help....😭). So I'll open them again to see if I can write better, but it might also take a while for them to come out since my pace is a bit slow.

[reomikagekin]

Aahh i need fluff with Luka so baddd i havent recovered from Wiege 😭

I feel so bad for him omg ? ? Imagine getting starved despite having a huge diet , having multiple diseases and pushed to the brink of death over and overr

I need some fluff with him so bad where we just comfort himm 😞

You're safe now.

Luka looked perfect, as always.

Even in the dim quiet of the infirmary dorms, with a worn blanket around his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes, he still carried himself like he was on stage. Shoulders square. Jaw tight. Movements deliberate. Like the world was watching and he couldn’t afford to let them see him crack.

You stood at the doorway for a second, just… watching him.

He sat on the edge of the bed like it might disappear if he shifted wrong. His eyes were fixed on nothing, but his fingers were fidgeting—just barely—restless and unsure. The air around him felt tense, like he was bracing for something.

You stepped in gently. Quietly. “Hey.”

He blinked. Turned his head. “You again.”

There wasn’t any sharpness to it. Just tiredness.

You smiled softly and held up a bowl. “I brought you something warm. Chicken rice porridge. Mizi said it was your favorite.”

Luka’s expression didn’t change much, but you saw it—the small twitch in his lip, the way his posture faltered for a second.

He didn’t reach for the bowl.

“…I’m not hungry,” he muttered.

You walked over and sat on the floor in front of him anyway. “You don’t have to finish it. Just try a little?”

He hesitated, then—still as stiff as a statue—nodded once.

You lifted a spoonful and held it up for him.

He looked at it like it might bite him.

“I can feed myself,” he mumbled.

“I know,” you replied gently, “but… let me, just this once? Please?”

His shoulders tensed, like the kindness physically hurt. But after a beat, he leaned forward and took the spoon.

He didn’t say anything, but you saw the tiniest breath leave him—like his body was remembering what warmth felt like.

You fed him in slow silence. He only managed a few bites before he stopped and shook his head.

“That’s enough,” he whispered. “It’s too much.”

You nodded and set the bowl down. “Okay.”

Luka sat back, curling the blanket tighter around himself. His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “I used to fantasize about food like that,” he said quietly. “When I was locked up. I’d make lists of everything I wanted to eat. I thought it would feel good when I finally got to taste it again.”

“Did it?” you asked softly.

His voice cracked. “No. It just made me remember how long I went without.”

You reached out and touched his hand. It was trembling.

“Luka,” you said, “you’re not in there anymore. You're not alone. You're not starving. You're safe.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared at your hand over his like he didn’t know what to do with it.

You stood slowly, then sat next to him on the bed, careful not to startle him. “Can I… stay with you a while?”

“…If you want.”

You didn’t hesitate. You leaned against him, arms looping around his waist, your cheek pressing gently to his shoulder.

He was frozen stiff at first. Breathing shallow. Like he was still waiting for someone to punish him for getting too comfortable.

But after a long pause—he melted.

Just a little.

His body sagged against yours, the weight of exhaustion finally crashing down. His arms slipped around you like it was instinct, and he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I didn’t think I’d make it out,” he whispered. “I thought… maybe I deserved it.”

You held him tighter. “You didn’t. You never did.”

“But I was awful. I used people. I hurt them. I thought I was doing what I had to, but—”

“You were surviving,” you said gently. “And you’re still here. That matters.”

His breath hitched.

“You don’t have to earn comfort, Luka. You don’t have to perform for it. You’re allowed to be held. To be cared for. Just because you exist.”

He went quiet.

Then you felt it.

A soft, shaking sob pressed against your neck.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just let him cry. Quiet and fragile, like the tears had been waiting years to fall.

Eventually, when the shaking slowed, you pulled back just enough to look at him.

“Lie down?” you asked.

He nodded wordlessly.

You eased him back into the blankets, tucked them gently around him, then climbed in beside him. He clung to you instantly—his arm curling around your waist, his forehead resting against your collarbone.

You brushed his hair back, fingers combing slowly through the soft strands. “You’re safe now,” you whispered.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” you said, kissing his temple. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And for the first time in a long time, Luka closed his eyes and let himself rest.

Not as a prince. Not as a manipulator. Not as a perfect performer.

Just as a boy who had finally made it out. And the person who refused to let him fall again.

[oya-oya-okay]

I told you I’d make you a better Azul next time🫵❗️

Here’s an Azul just for you!🐙💝 :D

(Compared to the ugly Azul I drew on your Magma page ( ￣▽￣) heh )

RIZZZ🥺😭😭😭 WHAAA💖💥💖💥💖💥

OMG OMGGG HE'S SOOO CUTEE WHAT

SOOO CUTIEEEE PATOOOTIE😭😭😭💖💕💖💗💗💖❤️💖❤️💖 MY DEARRRRRR

I REALLY LIKE THE WAY HE LOOKS LIKE THAT, IN YOUR STYLE!!💕💖💕💖💕💖 SO CHARMING AND CUTE!😭😭😭 HIS EXPRESSIONS ARE SO PLAYFUL😚🥰 IT LOOKS LIKE HIM!!🙏💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️💕💕💕 I LOVE IT VERY MUCH, AAAHHHHHH, RIZ DEARRR🥺😭💖💕💖💕💖💕 THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!🥰🥰🥰❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕

YOUR LAST AZUL WAS REALLY GREAT TOO!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I REALLY LOVE HOW YOU DRAW HIMM!!!💖💕💖💕💖💕💗💗💗

[st4rgirllv]

another req! :p can you write wakasa please? like some fluff anything! thank youu 🫶

ᯓ★ I LOVE HIMM I GOT U

Haircuts and Missed calls

Pairing: Wakasa Imaushi x Reader

cw: Fluff, Light Romance, Post-Tokyo gangs timeline, modern day, domestic slice-of-life

You should’ve known better than to text Wakasa at 2:07 AM with “what would happen if I gave myself bangs rn”.

You should’ve especially known better than to follow it up with a blurry photo of you in the bathroom, scissors in hand, and the caption “i’m doing it.”

He showed up fifteen minutes later. In sweats, hair tied back messily, and that look on his face—equal parts sleepy, annoyed, and stupidly fond. "Woah, you actually came."

"I called you like 15 times, I thought you'd already cried yourself to sleep because of how bad your bangs were," he stared at you through the mirror while you looked at him with raised eyebrows. "okay fine, I was worried," he put his hands up in defeat.

“You really were gonna cut your own bangs, huh?” he says. You blink at him from the bathroom mirror, still holding the scissors.

“Well. I was bored.”

Wakasa sighs and walks over, plucking the scissors from your hand with ease. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, setting them down and poking your forehead. “Sit. I’ll do it.”

You freeze. “Wait—you know how to cut hair?”

“I ran a gang and a salon, remember?”

“…oh my god. I forgot you were secretly a grandmother.”

He squints at you, unimpressed. “Say that again and I’ll give you a mullet.”

You stick your tongue out. “Promises, promises.”

Still, you sit obediently on the stool in your bathroom, facing the mirror. Wakasa stands behind you, combing through your hair with gentle fingers, the kind that feel like they were meant to touch you like this.

For someone who’s supposedly just here to stop you from destroying your bangs, he’s really close. His breath is warm against your ear as he leans down, and you can see the sleepy crease still pressed into his cheek from where he probably fell asleep on his arm.

"You didn’t have to come all the way here," you murmur, not quite trusting your voice with how soft everything feels.

He pauses for a beat before replying, "Yeah, well. You texted me. That usually means something.”

Your heart skips.

“Maybe I just wanted attention.”

“Then I’ll give you that too.”

Carefully, Wakasa trims the front strands of your hair, his expression focused, hands steady. Every so often, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and glances at your reflection in the mirror. There’s something unreadable in his eyes—but it’s warm. Always warm.

He chuckles, soft and pleased, like the sound was meant just for you.

"You’re being gentle," you say after a moment.

His lips curl up. “You want me to be rough?”

You choke. “Wakasa!”

When he finishes, he brushes the stray hairs off your shoulders with surprising care. He doesn’t step back right away. Just stays there, behind you, fingers still hovering near your cheek.

You meet his gaze in the mirror.

“You look good,” he says. “Not that you didn’t before.”

Your breath catches. There’s a quiet hum between the two of you, something fragile, something more than playful texts and midnight teasing. Something you haven’t touched yet but you both know is there.

You break the tension first. “Thanks, grandma.”

He groans and buries his face in your shoulder. “I hate you.”

You laugh. “Liar.”

“You’re right. I’d still come running if you said you were gonna cut your eyelashes next.”

"That was going to be my next project."

“Nope.” He grabs your phone off the counter and shoves it in his pocket. “I’m confiscating this.”

“Wakasa!”

But he’s already dragging you to your couch, throwing a blanket over you and plopping down beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He yawns, stretches, and slumps until his head is resting in your lap.

You blink down at him, stunned. “What are you doing?”

“You texted me at two in the morning and made me drive across town to babysit you,” he mumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“I didn’t say you could—”

“I trimmed your bangs for free.”

“…fine. Just this once.”

He closes his eyes, smile barely visible, and mutters, “You say that every time.”

You don’t say anything to that.

Instead, you gently brush your fingers through his long hair, humming a little under your breath. He hums back, already half-asleep, hand lazily finding yours and lacing your fingers together like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You should say something. About how you missed him. About how his silence for the past few weeks made your heart ache in ways you didn’t understand. About how you weren’t just texting him tonight out of boredom.

But you don’t.

Because right now, he’s here. Sleeping in your lap. Hands in yours. And you know—without him saying it—that he missed you too.

Maybe that’s enough. For now.

Masterlist

[m-ayo-o]

again

18+ dry humping // oral // 21+ Ichigo wc 1500 selfshiptember; 30 yes yes yessss pool time fun [we didn't make it to the pool] look at himm, i want him to bite meeee

Thanks to your best friend, you’ve finished setting up for the pool party you’re hosting for your university friends super early. You give him a sweet smile and tug on his hand, pulling him down to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Ichigo,” you watch the red blush travel up his face, “you’re a lifesaver.”

He stumbles and trips over his words, filling you with the desire to taunt him some more.

“Ichigo,” you know he can’t stand it when you say his name like that, “I’m gonna get changed.”

You tug on his shirt, signaling for him to follow you.

And he lets you pull him up to your room, that’s filled with all your pretty clothes, your smell… your bed.

Oh, if only he knew the things you’ve done on that bed. All of your countless nights fingering yourself stupid, panting and moaning and wishing there was something (someone) bigger to fill you.

“Ichigo,” you love his name so much, you can’t not say it, “will you help me choose my outfit... please?”

His jaw visibly clenches, wondering why on Earth you think he’d give a shit about your outfit.

He couldn’t care less about the scraps of material covering your body. He’d much prefer to see his pretty friend stripped bare and covered in his cum.

But he’s not exactly prepared to say that right now.

So he nods and sits on your bed instead.

You pick out a tantalising array of swimsuits and start to undress to try on the first set.

Ichigo is unable to look away while you strip off your top.

After seeing you do this a few times before, you think he’d be used to it. But he is never going to get used to seeing your body.

His saliva feels thick under his tongue, he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears, drumming louder and louder as he watches you emerge from your t-shirt, hair ruffled and chest on display in your cute bra.

He swallows hard while his gaze falters and shifts, feeling as though he shouldn’t be watching you.

He gets all uncomfortable, trying to shift and rearrange the hefty swell in his shorts, until you step closer and take his jaw in your hand.

“Ichigo,” there it is again, those three syllables bringing you such joy, whereas they only seem to worsen his condition, “you know it’s ok… for you to see me like this.”

His eyes are trained on yours, afraid to look anywhere else.

“We’re friends, aren’t we Ichi?”

He sighs through his nose, impatience brimming in his chest. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.

“Of course.” He replies tersely, “But I shouldn’t–” his amber eyes flit around, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.

But you keep your hand firmly on his chin, tilting his face up to study every detail, every weakness.

You pull away with a giggle, satisfied with his irritated expression.

You turn and pull your bra off, earning a chastising shout of your name as he finally gives in and turns away, burying his face in your duvets.

That doesn’t exactly help, considering they smell so strongly of you.

“Ichigo,” you tease him again, “I’m done!”

He faces you, finding your somewhat modest t-shirt and shorts to be replaced by two tiny triangles of material over your tits, one over your crotch, and you turn to show him the back, and–

“y/n” it was nothing short of a moan. He knows what he sounded like.

Yet you turn to him and continue this game like he’s not about to bust through his pants.

“Mhm? What is it?”

You twirl around and admire yourself in the mirror, toying with your hair and adjusting the stringy straps of your top, making your boobs jiggle.

“Do you like this one?”

You approach him again, this time edging closer as you watch him swallow another thick load of spit.

If only you could get his mouth open… you could see just how wet he is in there.

You prod his chest, encouraging him to speak up.

He looks up at you with such a strained, pretty face, then grits his teeth one more time and opens his mouth to speak, only for a few laboured pants come out. You should understand that he’s far past the point of talking by now.

But your teasing has only gone so far before tonight. Now things are getting a little out of hand even for you.

You slip a thumb over his bottom lip, spreading his mouth wider as you get a good look at the pools of saliva inside.

He goes to close his mouth again, but finds your fingers squeezing his face as you tut and shake your head.

His eyes dart around, not knowing what to do, his tongue twitching while that adorable embarrassment floods his cheeks.

You just hold his mouth open and watch him drool.

You watch that slick, clear liquid spill from his lips, dripping down either side of his mouth.

And you bend down to his face, his neck craned up to you, and you lick his chin.

“y/n…” it comes out shakier this time.

He tastes like pure lust. You need more.

Your tongue finds his lips, your hand stroking up and through his hair.

He pants into your mouth as you lick and taste him slowly, until you finally feel his body giving in to yours.

His strong hands find your waist and pull you on top of him. Now he’s got you in his lap, he squeezes your nape and starts tonguing you back.

He moves agonisingly slowly, holding you too gently as he desperately fights his desire to ruin you. 

“Ichigo,” you pull away from your messy, wet kiss, “you know I want you, right?”

He nods gingerly.

“Want you to touch me,” you squirm on his thighs, eagerly seeking friction from his long, hard boner, “need you”

He swears he’s gonna get a nosebleed and go braindead in seconds if you keep this up.

He shakes his head.

“I can’t…” he mutters against your lips while simultaneously grinding up into your heat. 

The disappointment that crosses your features kills him. But right now, he knows he wouldn’t last two seconds inside you. He couldn’t do that to you.

“But…” you whimper, begging him with your pretty eyes.

“Look at you,” he places his hands on you like you’re made of glass, “I can’t–” he repeats, biting his lip, hesitant to admit just how weak he is. How weak you’ve made him.

“But I need you so bad,” you’re almost crying, humping his thick, achy length.

“y/n, y/n, please, slow down– nnhh–” you’re getting carried away now, the sliding and poking of his erection over your clit and lips getting you off so good. You could just settle for cumming on him like this.

“Please let me– I, I just need to–” your cries are interrupted by a long groan from the man below you, his hips pumping hard into your soaked little bikini bottoms.

You feel something wetter, something thicker than your slick juices. You look down, watching him bump and thrust as white liquid trickles from his shorts, getting your crotch all messy and sticky.

The sight of him pent up and fucked out gets you endlessly wetter, your hips gyrating greedily until you find your release, coming down hard as you grip on his shoulders.

You whine and grind through your long orgasm, making him moan and wince with overstimulation until you slow down and eventually sit still on his lap, your chest heaving as he caresses your back.

But he knows what girls like you need, and he knows that you’re far from done.

So he slips you off his lap and lays you on your bed, standing and stripping off his soaked shorts.

He pulls you to perch on the edge of your bed as he kneels below you, tugging off your bikini bottoms. He takes your thighs in his hands and eases them apart to see the sloppy mess in between.

“Fuck… you got so fucking wet for me… and I couldn’t–” he sighs with disappointment. He didn’t particularly want your first time together to be so embarrassing.

Little does he know, him cumming like that makes you feel like a damn goddess... and so satisfied that you can bring someone as strong as him to his knees with a bit of dry humping.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it right,” frustration crosses his handsome face again, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He speaks with such sincerity then slides his tongue into you, dipping and licking and swirling till you’re all lightheaded.

Once he’s satisfied with your overflowing pleasure, feeling it drip down his chin and neck, he stands and looks over your body again.

His fiery eyes blaze over the soft mounds of your tits and down your figure, the mess between your legs making his cock swell again.

And you watch him grow and throb as his eyes fix on your tight, leaky hole.

Your eyes are glued to his erection that’s straining hard and angry again, until he speaks, “I want to–” he gives his cock a few lazy tugs, “I want to show you… how good I can make you feel.”

selfshiptember 30!!!!! omg ^-^ likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3