#I can't stop drawing this little idiot

[mrbrightxside]

Eltingville sketches because I am suffering from Bill Dickey brainrot 👌

[webonchin]

Comfy⛅

Today I bring the Dreamling ,tomorrow?

probably nothing bc i'm studying (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) so hold on till the weekends ,sowwy.

[she-war-on-my-peace-til-i]

pierre and andrei

[jostansbandc]

I don't put too much stuff about Palestine on this acc because it gets less traction then my others accounts do, but if you DM me proof that you donated to a validated Palestinian fundraiser I'll draw you a small doodle. It can be as little as a 5 dollar donation and I'll draw anything that isn't too complicated. Please remember to check if an account or fundraiser is valid before giving your time or money to it, there's a lot of posts of fake families going around because people are too lazy to check. These are actual humans lives, please make sure you're not promoting some bot in your inbox just so you feel like you did your part. Support and spread real families, real people, and real lives.

[i-am-agent-washingtub]

Took my little brother to school with me and all he did was nibble my homework >:(

[hairmetal666]

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

[thephantomsdream]

Let's be real for a second.

Ghost likes you a lil mean. Just enough. To him, to his mates, to everyone. He can fight. He will fuck anyone up who dares to react aggressively to you, so it doesn't matter if you're sassy, snarky, plainly put a little shit. He won't stop you, he's not gonna "tame" you, he's definitely gonna fucking eat it up and tease you, loving your remarks, clever, funny or straight up mean. The man will be smirking behind his mask (or straight up giving you heart-eyes at home). Don't be unnecessarily mean though, it's not a good look on anyone. Oh, god, and if your humor is dark? You got the man snorting and fucking giggling*(1), shoulders shaking and him trying to hold it in as you're plain roasting someone.

Be mean to him. He tests the waters, dropping one of his incredible and fantastic jokes for you to roll your eyes at him and tell him to rather wear a clown mask, since he's such a joke, and I swear he folds. Wants to pin you down and fuck you raw until you're a sobbing mess that knows nothing else but his name? Of course, and know he'd be mocking you, because where's that snarky mouth of yours, hmm? Oh, ya, busy sucking on his fingers. But until then, he's lowkey following you around dropping stupid joke after stupid joke until you're actually angry and amused. He got you smiling somehow? Gets him feeling like a young boy with a crush, silly butterflies and all.

Give him a bitch-face. Raised brow and unimpressed face at anyone and he's just eyes on you. Fucking hell, he's creepy too. Ghost is fucking intimidating as he is but if he just fixates on something, big brown eyes locked onto you and (big, awkward because let's be fucking for real, boy's actually fucking awkward) body frozen. Just 🧍‍♂️. (I'm fucking wheezing, he just 🧍‍♂️👁👁 and you know it!)

"Fuck are you looking at, weirdo?" That's bloody foken lovely!

And!

AND! He just (again, awkwardly) hovers and makes shit jokes but is so helpful to you in any way he can because in reality he's garbage with words but with actions he's much better. Regardless of where you met, he'll find a way in your life because you bring him joy and he just can't seem to let go. Simon tries to convince himself too that it ain't a good idea, that you're better off. Aha. Yeah, then you just look at him in a way when someone else says something absolutely fucking stupid and he just... Yeah, he's yours.

Be mean to him, then let him shove his face in your tits. Pull his hair a little but wrap your arms around him. Bite him and call him an idiot if you want, as long as you call him your idiot. That's Simon to you.

(But when you're nice to only him, he feels special. Make this man feel special, yeah? He needs it.)

(1): I actually imagined him in his barracks, him kicking his feet while he wears a pink robe, writing in his pink diary (with a pink pen with one of those fluffy balls at the end) "Dear diary, my lovie called me an asshole today. My heart is still racing. We shall mary in spring." and drawing hearts around his and your initials together.

[hoshiros]

—✯ KNEE SOCKS

AM Masterlist

cw. 18+ mdni. afab!reader, phone/video sex, established relationship, lingerie, masturbation, HAPPY SAE DAY

"Three."

ITOSHI SAE watches both in fascination and bitter pride as you choke on your own spit. Your nail slowly taps against the side of the vibrator, clicking in the microphone.

Sae clicks his tongue impatiently when you pout at him through the camera, glaring at his stupidly handsome face. "At least let me catch my breath," you glower, burrowing your head against the pillow beneath your cheek.

"Stop stalling. Three."

"Wait—"

"You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

You seem to contemplate his words for a moment, casting him a shy, tentative glance before you shake your head. The silky lingerie hugging your body slips when you adjust yourself, and Sae can't help the way his eyes gravitate toward the extra flesh spilling over the edge of your thigh-highs.

He grunts, giving himself a squeeze through his sweats at the show. You hesitantly increase the speed of the vibe to three and sputter, pulling it away from your clit in surprise before slowly drawing it against you again.

Some people would think that Sae's favourite view is a vast green pitch crawling with talent. Others would think that it's the sea, wide and sparkling under the sun.

All those idiots are wrong.

His favourite view would always be you on your knees, fists pulled tight around whatever you can grab, face pushed down—helpless and wanting him more than anything in the world. Nothing makes his blood boil hotter.

"Wish you were—" your words tumble into nonsense, high-pitched babbles and whines until the toy slips a little, giving you a chance to speak. "Wish you were here."

"Yeah? Greedy girl, can't get enough, hm?"

"S’not as good without you," you sniffle, feet kicking up and down. They thud softly against the mattress as you writhe, forcing yourself to look at the camera.

The thing Sae hates the most about Spain is that he's confined to a video chat. His fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to reach out to grab you by the hips and give you that little extra help he knows you need.

"I know you can do it," he croons, and through the video you can see his head tilt to the side almost mockingly. "Or do you need me to fuck you that bad?"

You hiccup and shake your head again, pulling your knees closer to your body and angling yourself better for him to see. He almost smiles at the sight—that constant determination he adores so much about you.

The new angle makes you breathless, face turning into the pillow as you gasp and squeal. Sae was more careful with his ministrations than you were with this stupid piece of plastic. 

"That's it," he presses, hips jutting against the fabric of his own pants to try and find some friction. "So pretty."

You cry and cry and cry, voice breaking the longer play with yourself. "Sae," you pant, muffled by the pillow. "Sae... Wanna cum, please? Can I?"

He hums low, agonizingly indecisive. Then, finally,

"Go on."

It only takes a few seconds before you sob, feet kicking again while you cum. Sae is about to laugh when you shake so hard the propped-up phone almost topples over. It gets caught in his throat when you pull the toy away and he can see the slick glistening down its side in the light.

Sae is transfixed. His fingers slip past the elastic of his waist band before he can stop himself and he lets out the tiniest of groans when he squeezes his length proper.

Sticky cum coats his thumb when he swipes over the tip with it, but it's not enough. He needs more. He'd always need more of you—maybe even more than you needed him.

He would never admit that to you, though.

"Again."

[hoshifighting]

ask translation: today's rant, girls, i can't get it out of my head that jeonghan is totally that "friend" who sends you a message a second after you remove the @ of your last relationship from your bio. "baby, I saw that you deleted his @, did something happen? Is everything okay? you know you can talk about anything with your hannie, right?" "wow, what an jerk, do you want to come over today, princess?" WARNINGS: smut, fingering, doggy-style, friend!jeonghan, recent break-up

PORTUGUESE VERSION

it’s a matter of seconds. you barely take his @ out of your bio, and the “ding” from your phone already notifies you. guess who? that’s right—jeonghan. and you know exactly what he’s going to say before you even open the message. it’s almost automatic; his timing is so damn perfect that you almost think he’s been stalking your profile, waiting for the smallest slip-up, a little sign.

“hey, baby,” he starts, casual as ever, “saw you took his name out of your bio… something happened?” you read it and can practically see his smug little smile while he’s typing, just loving the drama. “tsk, motherfucker,” you mutter to yourself, but you’re laughing. then he follows up: “you know you can tell your hannie anything, right?”

you roll your eyes, but ignoring him? impossible. the next message doesn’t even let you hesitate.

“god, what an idiot. wanna come over tonight, princess? got that wine you love…”

and there he’s got you. he knows it. he knows that the “heart-to-heart” is just a flimsy excuse, you know what he wants, and that “motherfucker” you muttered? already forgotten. the worst part is you don’t even resist. you’re already texting back before you can think twice:

“give me fifteen. actually have the wine, or i’m out,” you shoot back, adding that little side-eye emoji he always teases you for.

not even five seconds later, he replies: “bet.”

at his place, things start slow—he hands you the glass and goes, “spill it all, babe.” you actually try talking about your ex, maybe add some drama for effect… but he cuts you off, saying he doesn’t wanna hear about that “loser,” and before you know it, the conversation’s become something else entirely. he teases you, like always, and it doesn’t take long before that “friendly” vibe slips into something much more serious.

the wine might as well have gone straight between your legs. minutes later, jeonghan’s there, face buried between your thighs, his mouth working over the wet clit while he keeps his eyes locked on yours. he makes it look like an art form, taking his time, slow, drawing you out more and more—and you, impatient as hell, nearly losing it every time he stops just to throw in some little comment. he lifts his head slightly, lips glistening, with that smug glint in his eye.

“how could he lose you, huh?” he’s not actually asking; he just wants to see you needier. you press your thighs against him, trying to make him shut up and eat you out, but he just laughs, naughty.

“god, you’re so impatient, knew you’d be like this…” he knows exactly the effect he has on you.

you let out a frustrated moan, and he laughs again—he’s clearly feeding off this. “relax, princess, not gonna leave you hanging.” he says it, but he doesn’t speed up. you’re practically begging by the time he finally decides to quit playing games.

he fucks you so good that if you’d known it would always be like this with him, the idea of dating anyone but jeonghan would’ve never even crossed your mind.

he’s got you on all fours on his couch, no mercy, thrusting deep with that thick cock, your cries coming out rough and strained, head tilted back as he holds nothing back, fingers gripping your hair just to make you scream his name louder. the angle leaves your gasps sounding suffered, desperate.

jeonghan, obviously, is eating this up. he notices when you’re already dripping all over his couch, and just to make it even worse, he gathers up that little drip and rubs it right on your sensitive clit, making you melt like jelly, your body going limp on his couch until he eases his grip on your hair so he doesn’t hurt you.

he moans shamelessly, the sound probably even louder than yours, and it catches you off guard. he doesn’t hold back, telling you how long he’s wanted this, how many times he’s dreamed about fucking you exactly like this.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this pretty pussy, baby…” he whispers, and you feel that delicious shiver on the back of your neck. “if you hadn’t picked that dumbass… we could’ve been fucking like this ages ago.”

he thrusts deeper, but moving slower, just so you can feel every inch as he murmurs in your ear. his touch is firm, fingers gliding down to squeeze that sensitive spot, giving it a playful pinch just to watch you shiver, rolling your eyes as you gasp out his name.

“this is what you wanted, princess? gonna appear here on my place, begging for my cock again.. and im going to give you what you want... always.”

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley asks you for your number, you can't believe he wants to spend his phone call on you. Even though you're nervous about asking, you realize you need answers to some of your questions. The promise of getting to hear your voice is enough to get Bradley through the week, but is he going to be enough for you?

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being sexy

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

When you woke up for work and checked your phone, there was a new email waiting for you from Bradley, and you couldn't decide what to do about it. As soon as you'd hit send on that selfie of you in bed, you felt like an idiot. Was he expecting something more than a random picture of you after you'd removed your makeup for the day? Was he going to eventually give up responding at all when he realized that one date with you was ultimately just a waste of his time on his stop back in San Diego?

But he had written back yet again, and you were nervous to see what he had on his mind. You dropped your phone into your purse, making a deal with yourself: you could read his response once you were at work. That would give you enough time to process your thoughts on the matter. You were being silly for wanting more and expecting more with every interaction. This man owed you nothing. You were probably in over your head with the mutual daydreaming and flirtation.

What were you going to do when it was easy for him to say that talking to you had been fun, but he needed to get back to his real life? What were you going to do when you weren't able to do the same?

Once you were settled at your desk looking at your Natural History notes in those last few minutes of solitude before your eighteen students arrived for the day, you let yourself indulge in Bradley's words. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

"Oh my god." You forced yourself to read it slower the second time around. He was thinking about you in his bed! He wanted your phone number! "What are you doing to me?" you groaned. 

He wanted to call you. This man wanted to use his phone call allowance on you. He wanted to let you hear his deep, raspy voice over the phone while he spoke sentences that were tailor made for you. He expected you to be able to respond to him in real time? You were embarrassed to admit that it often took you hours or days to figure out how to reply to one of his emails after he set the butterflies off in your belly.

You did not know what you should do here, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. It was going to be impossible to pull yourself back out of this mess when the time came.

---------------------------

Before Bradley got a response to his email asking for your phone number, he got a box from your class. He could certainly get used to waiting in line when the mail arrived to find himself smiling with satisfaction instead of feeling disappointment. When he got back to his bunk and opened it, he rooted through all of the drawings of F/A-18s in search of the note from you. He smiled at the more businesslike greeting, knowing how many personal topics you and he had covered through email.

Dear Lt Bradshaw,

It seems as though we can't get enough of you. We're back, hoping for a little more of your time. Here's a batch of drawings for you to judge in any manner you see fit, but please be kind... I drew one of them. 

Whether it's a handwritten note or an email, I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Just looking at your tidy penmanship had Bradley antsy to check his email again. He had put himself out there as far as he could at the moment when he asked you for your phone number, but now he was nervous as hell. What was he supposed to do if you told him no? He'd already planned out not only a first date but a second date as well. He could wait you out. Unless you outright shut him down, he would take his time, making sure you were comfortable. 

Upon inspection of the Super Hornet drawings, it was easy enough to determine which one was yours. It was clearly crafted with a steadier hand than the others, and even the block printing on the side of the aircraft where you'd written 'BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW' looked like your penmanship. He looked through the other ones, quickly making the assumption that the one with flames and dragon scales had been drawn by Oliver. The one with purple outlining was most likely from Violet. Something was telling him the one with a dog piloting the jet was drawn by Jayden.

He smiled at how connected to these kids he felt, but ultimately he tossed everything back into the box and started heading for the lounge. If you had responded to him with your phone number, he could get himself on the call schedule. His heart was racing, and his skin felt too warm as he logged into his email account. He had three new messages.

"Come on," he groaned when he was met with two names above yours in his inbox. Nat and Vanessa. He almost forgot about the fucking water bottle. 

He tapped on the email from his best friend first. 

Rooster, I need you to make better choices regarding your girlfriends, okay? I took care of it, but it wasn't pretty. Her pink monstrosity of a water bottle was in your kitchen cabinet, and then she tried to have a conversation with me. Sorry, but I called her a flaming bitch who never appreciated my best friend and said she needed to leave your house before I made her. Everything is locked up tight again to keep the rats out. When you get home, there's a new restaurant you can treat me to on Rendova Road. -Nat

He smiled as he tapped on the email from Vanessa which was exactly one sentence long.

I got my water bottle from your house.

"God bless Natasha Trace," he muttered, deleting Vanessa's email. Then he went ahead and deleted every email he had ever received from her. He shouldn't have been surprised that you and he had already exchanged more emails than he ever had with a woman he'd dated for several months. It didn't take long before they were all gone, and then he was left with the newest one you'd sent to him last night sitting at the top of his inbox. 

"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his palm nervously on his pants before opening up your message to see what you had to say in response to his bold request for your phone number.

Bradley,

I read your last email an embarrassing number of times, trying to be sure I understood it properly. You want to use your phone call allotment on ME? And you were thinking about ME snuggled up in your bed? There's no possible way you could sound like an idiot. Not with that voice that I think about when I'm trying to fall asleep at night. 

You know what, I don't even care if I misinterpreted something. Of course I'll let you have my phone number. Of course I'll let you call me.

Your giddy pen pal

Right there below your parting words was your full phone number complete with San Diego area code. Bradley smiled as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the shelves behind him and wrote it down. He double and triple checked that he had it correct, knowing his next mission would be to get approved for a specific time slot and hope it wasn't going to be at a horrible time of day for you in California. Then he wrote back to your email.

Gorgeous,

You shouldn't sound so surprised. This thing we've got going on isn't open to interpretation on my end. I told you I have a thing for you. I believed you when you said you were interested in getting to know me. There's nobody else I'd rather spend my twenty minute phone call on than you. In fact, you're the only one. 

I already memorized your number. I'll email you back when I know which day I can call you and at what time. I can't wait to hear your voice saying my name.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

He logged out and did some quick math to take into account the difference between time zones, and then he was all smiles as he signed up for the opportunity to finally talk to you in real time.

------------------------------

You read his email again as the hours slowly ticked away on Saturday afternoon. Your friends were asking why you kept checking your phone while you were out to dinner. Well, they would be doing the same thing if Bradley Bradshaw was in their email inboxes sounding sweeter than any man had the right to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

How does 10:00 on Saturday night sound to you? I know it's a little late, but I didn't want to potentially interfere with your work week. And I don't know if I can wait until next week anyway. I'm feeling greedy right now when it comes to you. I can't wait to make a fool of myself on the phone.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

When you let him know in the calmest fashion you could muster that Saturday night was just fine for a phone call, he wrote back one additional sentence.

Talk to you then, Gorgeous Girl.

You received that email on Friday morning, and in an effort to seem less desperate for this man than you were, you didn't write back. It was better to let his anticipation grow to match your own. But once you'd parted ways with your friends and headed home for the night, your nerves settled in. You were going to have to ask Bradley where he lived, and that would be that. You'd know all the facts soon enough, and that would pretty much become the determining factor on how long the two of you could really keep this up.

It was almost time. You made sure your phone was fully charged, and you had your ringtone volume turned way up. Barring some sort of disaster, your phone should be ringing in exactly fifteen minutes. 

"Chill out," you whispered as you walked a few laps around your apartment in your favorite underwear and an oversized sweatshirt. At 9:56 you paused in your bedroom doorway, convinced Bradley wasn't even going to call. And at 10:02, you sat on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand, wondering how you managed to get yourself in this deep.

He was in the Navy. Things ran on precision. It was 10:04, and your phone was sitting there on your palm like a dead brick. "It's okay," you told yourself. "Maybe he'll still call." For a few minutes, you thought that being hopeful was the way to go. Perhaps he dialed the wrong number the first time and was just regrouping. Or perhaps not.

At 10:11, you set your phone on your nightstand and walked out into your living room without it. That was when you realized that the lighter-than-air tingling sensation you'd been enjoying all day was gone, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Don't even think about crying," you whispered as you pulled the hem of your sweatshirt a little further down your legs. You'd normally be drinking a cup of tea and getting settled in to try to go to sleep. A few months ago, you might have even been scrolling through a dating app right now. But you didn't want to do either of those things when you'd essentially been promised something as exciting as Bradley Bradshaw's voice for twenty minutes straight. "Fuck."

Just as you dragged your toe along the kitchen tile, trying to decide what to do now, you heard your ringtone. The clock on your microwave told you it was 10:16 as you turned and ran for your bedroom. Your fingers were shaking as you snatched up your phone and read RESTRICTED CALLER on the screen. You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it had to be him.

You took a deep breath and sank down onto the floor with your back against the side of your bed, and without any further hesitation, you answered the call as your heart hammered hard in your chest.

"Bradley?"

There was just a short pause, and it sounded like he was smiling when he said, "Hey, Gorgeous." 

The lighter-than-air tingling sensation was back as soon as you heard him say two whole words, and you slid slowly down until you were laying on your back on the floor like a boneless mess. "Hi," you sighed, pressing your free hand to your belly to try to calm the butterflies.

You heard him clear his throat softly before he said, "I'm really sorry I'm late calling you. I've been waiting for this all damn weekend." There was an edge to his voice that gave you goosebumps on your legs, and you smiled before you immediately frowned.

"Does this mean we only have four minutes to talk instead of twenty?" you asked him.

"No, I made sure of that," he replied in his deep rasp. "I even got a little bitchy with the guy before me who wouldn't end his call on time. I told him the most gorgeous teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary was waiting for me to call and that I'd be lucky if she still wanted to talk to me now."

You couldn't help but laugh as the tingling sensation made its way to your fingers and toes. "You didn't tell him that!"

"I swear I did," he insisted, his voice on the verge of laughter. "He sends his apologies." He cleared his throat once more before he asked, "Any chance you could say my name again?"

You thought you detected some nervous energy in his voice which was somehow the most flattering thing you'd ever encountered. You closed your eyes and licked your lips, picturing his handsome face as you said, "Bradley."

Now his voice was as breathless as you knew yours was. "Yeah. I really like the way that sounds."

"Bradley," you repeated with a laugh as you rolled up into a little ball on your side with your phone held to your ear.

"Hey, if you want to just say my name for the next eighteen minutes, I'm not going to complain. I was dying to hear your voice, and now I just want more of it."

You had to press your lips together to keep from making an embarrassing sound, but you did manage to say, "Yeah, that's not really going to work for me, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm going to need some back and forth, especially with how much I like your voice. And your face."

He groaned softly, and now you really did make an embarrassing noise before you could clap your free hand over your mouth. "My face is nothing special, Gorgeous," he said. "Yours on the other hand... that's the kind of thing that could get a guy through a long deployment."

You whimpered, and you were sure he could hear it. But you weren't even as embarrassed as you were needy for more. You wanted to know everything about him, and twenty minutes wasn't going to be enough to satisfy you when it came to Bradley. "Let's just say you've had my full attention for months now. And the photos you sent are enough to get a girl through a long school year. Will you tell me how you got your scars?" you asked him. It was something you'd been curious about since the first photo he sent where you could see his face. The one of him standing tall and sexy in front of his jet.

"Oh, hell," he laughed, his voice taking on a self deprecating tone. "I knew I shouldn't have sent that sunset selfie. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be able to see them in the photos or the video. I have a lot."

You scrambled to your knees and then your feet. The last thing you'd meant to do was make him feel badly about himself. "They just make you look hotter," you blurted out. "I've thought about kissing them."

"Shit," he grunted. "Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to know. My social security number? My bank account information?" You laughed and had to bite down on your knuckle as he said, "I got my scars when I was a sophomore at the University of Virginia. Just typical nineteen year old guy bullshit. I was riding my bike back from a party late, and I skipped the curb. Just a lot of stitches."

"Oh," you gasped.

"It's okay," he said quickly. "More superficial than anything. I didn't even miss any of my classes. This is just why I don't usually send selfies like that. But you're already an exception, aren't you?"

He was so sweet, you were afraid the butterflies would never stop. But now you were picturing him going back to a beautiful house in Virginia, and it just made you sad. You paced the length of your room as you said, "I'd still really like to see your face in person."

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip, already knowing how you were going to react, but you just needed to have all the facts. "I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

There was a brief pause before he asked, "What do you mean?"

You tipped your head back and looked at your ceiling as you finally said, "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

But when you heard his next sentence, you let yourself drop down onto your bed with a smile on your face. "Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego."

-----------------------------

This was going well. Bradley's whole body was thrumming with anticipation, and your voice was already embedded in his mind. As soon as you mentioned just the thought of your lips on his scarred cheek, he had to stand up for a minute. And when you brought up meeting him when his deployment ended, he was afraid his heart rate might never return to normal.

"I'd still really like to see your face in person," you told him, and all he could think about was Thai food on the beach and kissing your lips.

"That's a done deal, Gorgeous," he replied, satisfied in knowing for sure that it was going to happen now, but your follow up question left him confused.

"I know we could probably meet for a date or two while you're on leave in San Diego, but what happens after that?"

After that? He sat back down in his seat and thought about what would happen after a date or two. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands and lips off you, but somehow he didn't think that's what you were talking about. "What do you mean?"

Your voice took on a softer, maybe sadder quality as you told him,  "I don't even know where you live or where you're stationed. All I know is that if you're returning to Virginia or somewhere else far away... I'm going to have to brace myself for it."

He froze. He hadn't told you where he lived? Had he really never mentioned it once in all the times he wrote out the address to your school in Mira Mesa? His heart was beating erratically now as he pieced together the fact that he was making all of these plans while you were trying to protect yourself, but you kept emailing him and sending him letters anyway. You were showing that you had genuine interest in him while afraid he was going to leave you high and dry after one date? Hell no. Oh, he was falling hard.

"Gorgeous Girl, I live in San Diego." 

Your little surprised gasp had him holding his breath. "You do?" you whispered. 

"I do," he promised. "Shit, I can't believe I never mentioned it. My house is in Coronado, near the beach in the photo you sent me where you look more flawless than the sunset. I'm so sorry I got so carried away with our emails that I never put it together that you didn't know I'm stationed out of North Island."

You were quiet for a beat, and he wanted to crawl through the phone and reassure you that he had never meant to stress you out. "You live in Coronado?" you asked.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. About thirty minutes away from your school. I mean, there's always traffic, so maybe forty minutes," he told you nervously. "I hope that's not too far for you to deal with?"

"That's nothing, Bradley," you said with a sigh. "That's... absolutely not too far. I thought you potentially lived thousands of miles away, and I was trying to figure out what to do about my feelings. I was so scared to ask you sooner."

Vanessa wouldn't even drive the extra ten minutes to the restaurant he liked, meanwhile you were putting yourself out there for him. He cleared his throat and said, "I already have our first date planned out."

"Tell me. In an abundance of detail."

Bradley's skin tingled with desire as he divulged his daydreams. "I'll drive up and pick you up at your place. You already gave me permission to hold your hand, so that's happening on the ride back to the beach. There's a good Thai place not too far from the bay bridge where we'll stop to pick up dinner. Then when we get to the beach, you'll be surprised and charmed that I packed blankets and a cooler full of beer and a bottle of prosecco. And we can sit on the beach, talking and eating while the sun sets, unless you'd rather sit in the back of my vintage Bronco. And then, when the sky is just starting to turn purple, I'm going to kiss you."

The beat of silence was satisfying before you asked, "You're going to wait until after dinner to do that?" He could practically hear your pout which made him get to his feet again. He only had five more minutes with you right now, and he was going to have to make this count.

"You want me to kiss you before that?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around the edge of the counter as your soft laughter met his ears.

"I want you to kiss me as soon as you see me."

"Fuck," he panted. "Then consider that a done deal too, Gorgeous."

"Oh, I like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, watching time slip through his fingers. "You feel more confident now that you know where I live?"

"Yes," you replied softly.

"Good." He closed his eyes as he said, "We only have a little more time right now, Baby. Anything else you want from me?"

You squeaked softly. "Will you email me a gym selfie or two? With a nice closeup of your face?"

He couldn't get over you and the way you made him feel. "Yeah. I'll hit the gym tomorrow for you."

You hummed softly, and he sat down in his chair again, raking his fingers through his hair. God, he felt like a mixed up mess over you after this conversation. Your voice was so fucking sweet as you asked him, "Anything you want from me?"

His plentiful thoughts ranged the full spectrum from innocent to decidedly not as he tugged on his hair and tried to keep himself in check. "Yeah, actually," he said, gravel filling his voice. "You know that inactive dating profile you mentioned before?"

"Yes."

"You should delete the app. There's nothing I know about you that I don't like, and I feel like that trend is going to continue. If you feel the same way, then you don't need the app, Gorgeous."

After a brief pause, your beautiful voice told him, "Okay, Bradley. I'll delete it."

"Fucking aces," he said with a smile. "Where are you right now?"

You laughed softly as he realized he had less than a minute left on this call. "Curled up in my bed with the biggest smile on my face."

"Send me a selfie?"

"Consider it done, Lieutenant. It'll be there when you check your email next."

He leaned back in his chair. There was still so much he wanted to tell you and ask about, but it would have to wait. "Listen, I need to go. But I'm going to work on writing back to your class this week. And I'll get the selfies for you, too. I'll see you in our inboxes?"

That soft laughter was right there again, and he felt like his skin was on fire as you said, "I'll take you any way I can get you, Bradley."

You could have him as many ways as you wanted him. "I can't wait to get back to San Diego."

"I'll be ready when you do."

---------------------------

I'm sweating. He's too much. He's too powerful. Bradley Bradshaw, get home and get your girl some Thai food! Also, Natasha is the friend of the year for taking out the trash. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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[wilwheaton]

What the actual fuck, Larry David.

So I heard about it, but didn't watch it until now. Holy shit it's even worse than I thought. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Elmo is, like, the best friend to multiple generations of children, and is currently putting mental health and caring for others in the spotlight.

And Larry Fucking David ... did ... that? And thought it was going to be ... funny?

What an asshole. What a stupid, self-centered, tone deaf asshole.

Hey, fucko: First of all, you aren't even in the segment, but you just decided to barge in and draw focus because ... why? You couldn't stand that a puppet brought people together in a meaningful way that you can't? You couldn't stand that your appearance on national television to promote your wildly successful series was delayed for a few seconds while the adults talked about mental health?

I really want to know what raced through his tiny little mind, and why there was no voice or person who spoke up to stop him.

You know who is watching the Today show with their parents? Kids who also watch Sesame Street. Elmo is an avatar for children all over the world. Children who are too small to understand Elmo is a puppet will know that a man attacked him for no reason, and that will frighten them.

Elmo inspired a deeply meaningful and important moment of collective support among disparate people who have been struggling through the traumas of a pandemic, daily mass shootings, the rise of fascism and everything associated with Trump's violence and cruelty.

And shitty idiot Larry David couldn't stand it, for some reason. He had to indirectly tell everyone who opened their hearts to a Muppet that they were stupid, and he thought it was a good joke to physically attack and choke this character who is beloved by children and adults alike.

I've been bored by and totally over Larry David's brand of being an asshole to everyone because they had the temerity to exist around him since the day it started. It was easy to just ignore him. But this thing he did was hurtful, it wasn't funny, and his bullshit non-apology tells all of us everything we need to know about him.

Larry David strikes me as a person who mocks and belittles people who are vulnerable and sensitive, who is cruel because he enjoys it and is untouchable. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's who I see whenever I can't find the remote and he's on my television.

By contrast, Elmo and the Muppets teach and model that kindness and empathy aren't weak or stupid or any of the things people like Larry David and my dad think they are. Elmo and the Muppets teach children to be gentle and kind, to celebrate our different cultures and to embrace all of our complicated feelings.

I hope that, when the dust settles, Larry David's appalling behavior will be a footnote to a larger story about how, for just one day, a Muppet made a difference by helping all of us who are struggling feel just a little less alone and anxious.

A man who would belittle and mock that isn't much of a man at all.

[pearlcigs]

thinking a lot about soft! Vi 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 maybe even thinking about being babied 😵‍💫😵‍💫

⋆ softcore — tlou discord server

soft!vi who has a tough exterior but she always finds herself letting her walls down for you at the end of the day. when she's sighing from exhaustion, slipping into bed just ready to sink into oblivion. she just wants to roll over, ignore your curled up body that lay next to her. but she doesn't, she couldn't. no matter how tired she was, she needed you, needed your body melting into her like liquid in her hands. so she does just that, scoops you closer to her, her touch gentle in contrast to her rough and callused hands. she'll kiss the top of your head, all of your face. she'll whisper the sweetest things in your ear until she falls asleep, even her snores gentle.

soft!vi who you find humming as she does domestic tasks, like when she's cooking or cleaning. she's not even aware that she does it, solely focused on the task at hand. you think it's cute, never bringing it to her attention in hopes she'll never stop. once you found her going through the mail, humming an awfully familiar tune. you watched with admiration as vi sorted through the bills and the junk mail. "look, babe, they sent me a letter about my car's extended warranty." she laughs, pausing her humming to lift up the letter she was reading. "what idiots. they really think i'm gonna fall for this." she chuckles again, going back to her assortment of mail and her humming resumes. you just want to preserve her in a little box and keep her forever.

soft!vi who plays with your hair while you do some off hand task. not really doing any specific hairstyle, just moving strands over other strands and then letting them fall back into their place. you don't mind when she does, pretending you don't notice. it was the silent moments that you held deep in your heart, and so did vi. vi's hands would more often than not eventually make their way out of your hair, sliding down your body. she would grip your waist, or your hips, or massage your shoulders, or sometimes even slip her hands under your shirt to feel your warm skin. it wasn't even sexual, not when she would cup your breasts or kiss your neck as she did, she just loved having her hands on you in any way possible.

soft!vi who has a hard time just saying how she feels. she just can't get the words out to save her life. so you'll find little things around the house a day or two after an argument. flowers on the counter when you wake up. the dishes washed and dried. that shower curtain you've been meaning to install for months now? vi did it. it's sweet really, little things to let you know she still loved you or she's not mad at you because you both know she'll never say it out loud. or even when you two weren't arguing, you'll still find things like this. cookies she picked up for you on her way over. or when you caught her reading that book you were talking about earlier in the week. but your favorite is when you find little notes left on your fridge stuck by the (carefully picked, seriously it was no coincidence she picked those every single time) heart magnets. sometimes it was just a little drawing and sometimes it would be sweet words like 'miss you' or 'thinking of you'. it made your heart swell every time.

soft!vi who tries to make you breakfast in bed when she stays over at your apartment but you usually wake up to a smoke detector going off. it's sort of amazing at how she's such a good cook but such a bad one at the same time. like she'll burn the toast but make a perfect 5 star meal with bacon, eggs, and pancakes with a chocolate ganache. you didn't even know what a ganache was until you stumbled into the kitchen with worry only to be met with vi's crooked smile holding an entirely black piece of toast. "i was trying to make breakfast." and then she proceeded to explain what she made. "so you made all this, but... burnt the toast?" you weren't mad just... in awe. how do you burn toast? but you laugh anyway, kissing her nerves away.

soft!vi who babies you in the least condesceding way possible. she knows you like to be independent, as does anyone, but she can't help babying you every once in a while. it's simple things really, you didn't even notice at first. she'd grab things from you. "that looks heavy, let me do it." and would not even give you a chance to argue. she'd carry you anywhere, holding you in her arms like there wasn't a worry in the world. she'd wrap you in a bunch of blankets if you were napping on the couch, making sure you don't wake up cold. (you might wake up hot though.) she'd grab your cold hands in her warm ones to warm you up. it was just little things but vi always made sure you felt cared for.

[hvseung]

back to campus (l. hs)

pairing: heeseung x female!reader

genre: enemies who fuck, one shot, pwp

warnings: explicit smut, public sex, profanity, passing out, jealous and possessive behaviour, minors DNI!

wc: 5k

.｡.:*:.:**:.☆*.｡.:*:.:*.｡.:*:.:**:.☆*.｡.:*:.:*

Under the dim glow of streetlights, Heeseung glided effortlessly across the smooth pavement, the cool night air nipping at his cheeks. Tonight, the streets were unusually quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of his skateboard and the occasional distant car passing by. As he rounded a corner, his eyes caught sight of someone ahead, completely absorbed in their phone, oblivious to the world around them.

He almost instinctively rolled his eyes as he recognised the figure to be you, caught in the glow of your screen, navigating the deserted pathway with unwavering focus. Heeseung's brow furrowed slightly as he slowed his pace, watching from a distance. Despite the longstanding rivalry that simmered between the two of you, a flicker of concern tugged at him. He knew this hour held its own dangers, especially for a woman walking alone.

Heeseung hesitated, debating whether to call out a warning or simply skate past. The decision loomed as he stood there, contemplating their unexpected intersection in the nocturnal stillness of the streets.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" He calls, causing you to flinch, quickly turning on your heel to face him. As soon as you meet his gaze, you roll your eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" You sourly retort back. Heeseung lifts his skateboard into view, signalling his actions for being out so late at night.

"Skating," he said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "What's your excuse?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm walking home."

"At this hour?" Heeseung asked, his skepticism clear. "Where were you?"

"Not that it's any of your business" you repeated, turning to walk away. Heeseung kicked off the ground, gliding to keep pace with you.

"You're so stubborn" He mutters, his voice edging with irritation "Why do you have to be so difficult all the time, it's no wonder you cant get along with anyone"

"Because I don't need you to look out for me. Who are you? My dad?" You quicken your pace, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone, but he only speeds up, his skateboard clattering against the pavement.

"No, I'm not your damn dad. But I can't just let you walk around outside of campus this late at night. Youre such an idiot." He scolded, keeping up with you effortlessly

"Stop following me. You look like a desperate pervert." Your back was still turned to him, but he quickly swerves infront of you. You to abruptly stop as he blocks your path, towering over you.

He looks down at you with narrowing eyes and his jaw clenches "I'm not going anywhere until I make sure you get back to campus safely, so shut your smart mouth and start walking"

"And im supposed to believe that? What do you really want? Spit it out." You fold your arms, firmly stood in your spot. Heeseung rolled his eyes, annoyed with your stubbornness. He crosses his arms, mirroring your pose and looking down at you with a mix of irritation and... something else in his eyes.

"I'm trying to make sure you're safe, idiot," He said gruffly. "Is that so hard to believe? I may not like you, but I can't just let you walk around out here late at night by yourself."

You meet his gaze, desperate to challenge him, but as the night draws on and sleep begins to catch up with you, you decide against it. "Fine."

Heeseung smirked slightly, enjoying the fact that he had won this little battle of wills. He pushed his skateboard out from under his feet and kicked it up, catching it in his hand. "Finally, you learned how to cooperate," He said, starting to walk beside you. "I can't believe you were going to walk back to the campus by yourself. What were you thinking?"

You both walked side by side in silence for a few moments, the only sound was the quiet rustle of the night air. Heeseung glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his mind working on something. "You know, you never answered my question," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Where were you that you're coming back so late?"

"A friend's." You say dryly, trying to keep communication to a minimum.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow at your vague answer, sensing that there was something more to the story. "A friend's...?" he repeated, his tone skeptical. "What kind of friend? A boyfriend?"

"Wouldn't you like to know..." You smirk, scoffing lowly.

His jaw clenches involuntarily at your smirk. A sudden wave of possessiveness shot through him. The thought of you with someone else, especially a boyfriend, irritated him more than he cared to admit. "Yeah, I would like to know," he said gruffly, trying to keep his cool. "So answer the damn question."

"I was at Sunghoons house. Happy?" You smile sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Heeseungs eyes widened slightly in surprise at the mention of Sunghoon's name, a pang of jealousy clenching at his chest. "Sunghoon?" he repeated, his voice laced with annoyance. "What the hell were you doing at his place this late at night?"

"You know, for someone who 'hates my guts'," you quote his past words with your fingers "you sure want to know a lot about me, dont you?"

Heeseung's eyes narrowed, his irritation only growing at your sarcastic remark. He clenched his jaw, trying to reign in his emotions, but your sassy attitude was getting under his skin. He let out a frustrated huff. "It's called concern, smartass. I don't need to hate you to want to know that you're safe."

He continued to walk, his steps increasingly aggressive as he tried to tamp down the jealousy that was brewing in his chest. The thought of you with anyone, especially someone like Sunghoon, made him more than just irritated. "So spill, Princess, what were you doing at Sunghoon's place?"

Your head snaps at the nickname, your face contorting into what can only be described as pure disgust "Do not call me that. And its none of your fucking business"

A cruel smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed your reaction to the pet name. He had hit a nerve and he reveled in it. He takes a step closer to you, towering over you. "Oh, what's the matter, Princess? Don't like that nickname, hm?" He taunted, his voice low and mockingly sweet.

You stopped walking, turning to face him. "What is your problem? You're just pissing me off on purpose now."

Heeseung chuckled darkly as you stopped and turned back to him. He takes a step closer, closing the gap between you and him, until he's standing so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes properly. "Oh, Princess, you have no idea. I haven't even started to piss you off yet."

He takes another step, his body now mere inches away from yours. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "And trust me, I can do a lot worse than just call you Princess."

"Fuck you." You spit, attempting to walk away again, but Heeseungs hand closes around your wrist like a vice, stopping you from walking away. He yanks you back, his grip tight and unyielding. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere." He spins you around, pinning you against the wall, his body pressing against yours.

"What the fuck?"

"Tell me what you were doing at Sunghoons house" His gaze is firm

"What? Are you jealous?" You smirk at him mockingly.

Heeseungs breath catches in his chest as your mocking smirk digs under his skin, making his frustration flare. "Jealous? Me? Of some idiot like Park Sunghoon?" he scoffs, but his voice lacks its usual confidence. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"Then why do you wanna know? Hm? Your practically itching to know what me and Sunghoonie were up to." You coo with a shit eating smirk playing on your lips.

His jaw clenches at the sound of the pet name you've given Sunghoon, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I just... just..." His voice trails off, struggling to come up with a reasonable response. He hates the effect you have on him, the way you can disarm him so easily.

"Yeah, thats what I thought," you smirk "Seungie is jealous"

Heeseung grits his teeth, your smugness only fueling his frustration further. "Shut up," he snaps, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not jealous, damnit." His body presses against you, trapping you against a wall. He leans in closer, his face now inches away from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "I just... I just don't want you around another guy. Especially not him."

You groan as my back hits the cold brick wall. "As if you're in any position to want things like that."

Heeseung's fingers dig into your waist as he pins you against the wall, his eyes locking with yours in a challenging stare. "And why not?" He retorts, his voice gruff and annoyed. "Why am I not in a position to want that?"

"Because I cant fucking stand you." You spit.

Heeseungs jaw clenches at your blunt honesty, his grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. "But that doesn't change the fact that you being with Sunghoon- or any other guy- pisses me off." He closes the remaining distance between you, his body fully pressed against yours. His head dips down, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice a low, hot whisper. "You shouldn't be with him, Princess. You should be with me."

"Heeseung what the fuck are you-"

He cuts you off, his patience running thin. He grips your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Shut up and listen," he snaps, his voice harsh but edged with a hint of something else. "I'm tired of pretending to hate you. I'm tired of pretending that I don't care. Because the truth is, I do care. I care way too much."

"What are you even talking about? Do you hear yourself right now?!" Your in complete disbelief. Where the fuck is this all coming from?

Heeseung groans in frustration, clearly struggling with his own emotions. He releases your chin and steps back, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm talking about the fact that I can't stop thinking about you. The fact that I can't stand the thought of you with someone else, especially Sunghoon. The fact that I'm so damn jealous of anyone who gets your attention. You drive me crazy."

Your brain short circuits, not being able to keep up with his wavering emotions. But also because it cant keep up with your wavering emotions. Your constant up and down battle with yourself as he spills his secrets. "Heeseung-"

"Just... just be honest with me," he says, his hands twitching at his sides, aching to touch you again. He takes a tentative step closer, closing the space between you again, his voice lower now, almost pleading. "Tell me you feel something too. Tell me I'm not crazy for wanting this... for wanting you."

At this point, you cant even deny it. You would be lying if you said you didn't feel the same, and you would be lying even more if you said you hadn't felt this way for months. You don't know what it is about him. You cant stand him, thats not a lie. But he's just so... tempting? If thats even the right word to uss. "You're not... you're not crazy."

As soon as the words leave your lips, his restraint snaps. Heeseung closes the distance between you again, his lips crashing into yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, his body pressed tightly against yours.

You cant help but moan against his lips, kissing him back with just as much need and desperation. His grip on you tightens as he feels your moan against his lips, his tongue darting into your mouth. He deepens the kiss, devouring you like a man starved. His hands wander across your body, needing to touch as much of you as possible.

He pushes you back against the wall, his lips never leaving yours. His body presses against you, his body heat and the hard planes of muscles pressed against your chest. One of his hands tangles in your hair, holding your head in place as he kisses you with a possessiveness that surprises even him. He pulls away for a brief moment, panting as he looks at you, his eyes dark and filled with an intense desire.

"You're mine," he says, his voice rough and possessive. "You hear me? Mine. I won't let anyone else touch you." He captures your lips again, his kiss bruising and demanding. He pushes one of his legs between your thighs, pressing his body even tighter against yours, wanting to feel every inch of you.

You gasp at the sudden contact against your sensitive core. "Heeseung-"

He growls at the sound of his name on your lips, the desire only growing stronger. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive skin. His hands slide down your body, gripping your hips possessively as he nips and sucks at your neck. He grinds his leg against your pussy, a shudder going through his body as he feels how needy you are for him.

You tip your head back, softly moaning, completely oblivious to the fact that you're still in public. Heeseung notices you tipping your head back, the sound of your moan shooting straight to his groin, making his mind go fuzzy. He nips at your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, leaving small, red marks in their wake. "God, the sounds you make..." he growls, his voice rough and strained, "You're driving me crazy, Princess."

Your lips silently part as his knee brushes against your clit, making your hips stutter. Heeseung can't help but smirk, his dominant nature taking over. He grabs your hip with one hand, pressing you back against the wall, his body fully pinning you to the spot. His other hand slides up to your hair, gripping it and tilting your head back.

"You like that?" he growls, his words punctuated by another grind of his knee against your sensitive skin. He leans down, his lips just millimeters from your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You're so fucking eager, aren't you? So desperate for my touch."

You nod eagerly, practically whimpering as you reach down to grip the lining of his shirt to keep yourself grounded. The sound of a passing car pulls you out of your haze, finally remembering your surroundings and just how public this was.

He chuckles at your eagerness, the sight of you whimpering and grasping at his shirt only adding fuel to the fire. But then he too is pulled out of the moment as the sound of a passing car hits his ears.

He hesitates for a second, knowing they should stop and find a more private place, but the sight of you, flushed and wanting, makes it increasingly difficult to pull away. Heeseung grabs your elbow firmly and drags you around the corner into a dimly lit alleyway. The alley was barely visible from the street, ensuring them some much-needed privacy. It wasn't common that people would come down this alley way as it serves practically no purpose, but in the rare case that it were to happen, we were pretty much unnoticeable in the shadows.

His body presses yours against a cool brick wall, taking a moment to look at you, his eyes running over your flushed face, your heaving chest, your parted lips. His hands grip your hips tightly, lifting you up off the ground, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist to keep your balance.

Unlike you, Heeseung was thanking the gods that you wore a skirt today, making it so much easier to grind his growing buldge against your clothed pussy, the friction causing his eyes to shut tightly as he lets out a low, guttural moan. He leans down, his lips moving to your neck, his teeth nipping and sucking at the skin, determined to leave his mark on you.

You let out a small whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulder to keep your balance as you roll your hips against his. Thats when he decides, he needs to taste you.

Heeseungs eyes lock with yours, a feral glint in them, as he puts you down. He sinks to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs and shoving your skirt over hour ass as they go.

His teeth nip at the inside of your thighs, causing you to whine his name, pushing his hair back to make eye contact with him. He grins against your skin at the sound of his name on your lips, the feeling going straight to his already aching groin. His tongue traces a line up your inner thigh, his hands gripping your hips to keep you from moving away. He takes his sweet time, his tongue and teeth trailing over every inch of skin, determined to taste and touch as much of you as possible. He hums against your skin, the vibration sending shivers through your body.

"Heeseung- please." You whine, your lips jutting out into a small pout. He looks up, noticing the growing wet patch in the center of your panties. He licks his lips, hooking his fingers under your waistband of your underwear before pulling them down, revealing your glistening pussy.

"Fuck baby. Is this all for me?" He groans, his eyes practically devouring you. He leans forward, his lips ghosting over your core, watching as globs of wetness pour out. He moves even closer, his hot breath mixing with the cold air, the contrast making your skin prick with goosebumps.

He lifts a singular finger, rubbing it between your folds and collecting your wetness, before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean, moaning at the taste of you against. He grips at one of your thighs, hoisting it over his shoulder before pulling you down to sit on his face, his tongue darting out to part your folds.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue starts to explore, licking and tasting as much as he can. His hands grip your thighs, his grip tight and almost possessive, as if he's afraid you'll slip away from him. You whine loudly, balling his hair between your fists.

"Fuck." You whine, tipping your head back as he sucks and licks at your pussy. He grins against you as he hears your curse, the sound massively swelling his ego. He doubles his efforts, his tongue working quicker and harder as it flicks in and out of your aching hole, his nose brushing against your clit, trying to take you apart with just his mouth.

You cry out loudly, your fingers ripping at his scalp. He hisses, the sound transforming into a deep moan as the pain only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him. He feels you clench around his tongue, the sensation nearly driving him over the edge. He can tell you're close, the way your hips are rolling against his mouth, spreading your wetness around his chin.

He harshly sucks at your clit and then pulls away just before you're able to reach your peak, a wicked grin on his face. "You didn't really think I was going to let you cum that easily, did you?" He laughs dryly.

"No no- please Heeseung. I was so close." You whine loudly, feeling your release painfully slipping away from you.

He stands up, grinning down at you, amused by the desperate tone in your voice. He leans down, his lips just centimeters from your ear, his breath hot against your skin "Oh, sweetheart, I know you were close. That's why I stopped."

"You're a fucking asshole." You spit breathlessly. "Just can't help yourself, can you?"

He smirks, knowing you have absolutely no idea whats coming. He leans closer, his voice low and rough. "You have no idea, princess. I haven't even started yet."

He pulls you further into the alley, bending you over a nearby car. He pushes your chest against the bonnet, pulling your hips back to press against his very obvious boner. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his clothed dick prodding against your core.

"You have no fucking idea how bad I want you right now." He groans, rolling himself against you. "Now be a good girl and stay still. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." You say meekly, nodding eagerly.

"Yes who?" He spits

"Yes sir." You whine, rubbing yourself against his bulge, desperate for any sort of friction.

He grins at the sound of your submission, his grip on your hip tightening just a little bit as he hums in approval. "Good girl."

He grins at the sight of you obediently waiting, his hands moving to his pants, unbuckling the belt and slowly pulling the zipper down. He makes sure to take his time, wanting to draw out the teasing. His eyes never leave your face, wanting to see every reaction he can, every flutter of your eyelashes, every bite of your lip, every quickened breath.

You were aching at this point, throbbing as the cold air hits your bare core. "Please Heeseung." You whine, desperate to feel him.

You hear as his belt drops to the floor behind you, then his jeans. You bite your lip in anticipation. He reaches around, placing his hand infront of your mouth. "Spit."

You follow his command immediately, shooting a glob of spit into his palm. He takes his hand, rubbing up and down his sensitive shaft to lube himself up. You gasp as he feel his tip prodding against you, smearing precum all over my folds. He was teasing you, and he was fucking enjoying it.

"Just fucking do it already." You snap, your patience wearing thin.

"Eager, are we?" He chuckles before pushing into me, bottoming out completely. Your breath catches in my chest as he knocks the wind out of you.

"Holy fuck-" You cry out, his length and girth practically tearing you in half. He smirks at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He leans down, his lips trailing hot kisses up your neck, his voice low and rough in your ear

"Yeah, feel good doesn't it baby?" He growls against the shell of your ear, nibbling at your lobe. He grinds his hips slowly against yours, his eyes fluttering close. "Fuck your so tight baby." You can tell he's being slow on purpose. Hes teasing you, and the shit eating smirk on his face just confirms it. But you're getting impatient now.

"Stop teasing me and fuck me like you mean it." You snap, pushing your hips back to meet his.

"You want me to stop teasing baby? Because once I start, I'm not stopping." His voice is stern, almost like a warning for whats about to come.

"Yes!"

He finally caves, unable to resist any longer. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he slams his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust. The friction of his veiny length rubbing against your walls sends waves of pleasure through both of your bodies. He groans loudly, the sound deep and primal, as he finally gives in to the need that's been building inside him all night.

You cry out, reaching for anything to grip onto the keep your knees from buckling underneath you. He reaches forwards, gripping your arms and pulling them behind you.

"Is this what you wanted, Princess?" He whispers, his lips moving to your neck, as he grinds against you with an almost desperate need. "To be fucked like the desperate slut you are?"

"Yes! Don't stop!" At this point, you've got absolutely no shame. You're a fucking mess as he slams his hips against you over and over and over, hitting the deepest spots inside you.

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, the sound making his chest rumble against your back, a physical expression of the need that was coursing through his veins. “You’re so beautiful when you’re a mess, princess. So desperate for me aren't you? Such a fucking whore for this dick."

He reaches down, wrapping his bicep around your throat, pulling your back to rest against his chest. "Say it. Say your a whore for this dick baby."

"Yes! Im a whore for your dick Seung!" You cry out, the pressure around your throat mixed with the pleasure from the new angle making your head spin.

He grins at your reaction, the feeling of you submitting to him, completely at his mercy, fuelling the fire that’s burning inside of him. He tightens his grip around your throat, wanting to see how far he can push you. "Thats right baby, thats fucking right."

You gasp for air as he applies more pressure against your throat, the feeling making you lightheaded. He angles his hips differently, hitting that soft, spongy spot deep inside you, making your stomach tighten. You practically shriek, your toes curling in your shoes as his tip kisses against the pleasure point with every hard thrust. "Seung, I'm so close."

He tightens his bicep even more, his eyes never leaving your face, watching as you struggle against him, completely at his mercy. There’s a primal satisfaction in seeing you like this, completely and utterly his in this moment. "You gonna cum for me baby?"

You cant manage out any words due to the painful pressure on your throat. The painful pressure that feels so fucking good. You can feel yourself getting dizzy, the lack of oxygen and the pleasure just too overwhelming for your body to handle.

"Look at you. Your a complete mess. God, you look so good." Your walls clench tightly around him as you teeter on the edge of release.

"Oh fuck baby." He groans as he twitches inside you, signalling that he was just as close to cumming as you were. "Not yet, Princess. Not until I say so."

You squeak at his words, knowing you physically couldn't hold back any longer, but you were unable to verbalise that to him. Your nails stratch as his bicep, begging him to let you cum as your eyes brim with tears.

"You're so desperate, you can't even form words, can you, Princess?" He mocks, watching as you struggle for air, your body clenching against his, as you desperately try to hold yourself back. "Don't you dare cum yet. You'll cum when I say you can. You understand?"

He continues to relentlessly pound into me, sweat beading down his forehead and landing against your cheek. Your jaw hangs slack as your vision begins to go blurry. Heeseung can feel your struggles growing weaker, watching as your eyes go slightly unfocused. "Cum for me baby."

As soon as he gives you permission, the tightening knot in your stomach immediately snaps. You cry out loudly, clenching around him. He feels you tighten around him, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He moans, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, his grip on your throat momentarily tightening as he feels his release hit down on him like a ton of bricks.

"Fuck!" He cries out, shooting his hot cum inside of you with a loud grunt. But it's all just too much for you, the grip around your throat and the pleasure completely taking over you, and now the feeling of his cum completely filling you to the brim.

Heeseung feels as your body goes limp in his arms and your head rolls forward, my cheek resting against his thick muscle. Realising you had momentarily passed out, catches you, taking the pressure off of your throat and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you upright against him. He gently cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head back against his shoulder so he can look at you, satisfied as he sees the blissful expression on your face.

He leans down, his lips gently resting against your temple, feeling your heart beat fast and erratic, a clear sign of what he’d just put you through. He holds your body against his, his grip protective and his voice gentle as he whispers into your ear. “I’ve got you.”

It takes you a minute to catch your breath, regaining the strength to stand on your own. You turn around, sitting down to rest against the car bonnet as you pant heavily. You can feel his release slipping out of you, pooling in-between your thighs.

Heeseung watches as you pant and gasp for air, his eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail, every bite and every mark that littered my soft skin. He can’t help but smirk at the sight, knowing he’d done that to you. He cups your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "So beautiful.”

You hum in response, nuzzling against his touch. He chuckles, his hand moving to gently brush your hair away from your face, a stark contrast to the aggressive nature that was coursing through him just a few minutes ago. His eyes take in your wrecked appearance. He can still see the flush on your skin, your eyes glassy and hazy, and he feels a possessiveness stirring within him at the sight. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." You smile up at him

"Are you sure? I've never had a girl pass out on me like that before." He chuckles awkwardly, pulling his jeans back up.

"Really, I'm good. That was... fucking amazing." You reassure him, reaching for your discarded panties.

"I'm glad." He offers you his hand, watching as your knees turn inwards a little as you stand.

"Anyway, should we get you back to campus?"

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@ hvseung, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway. thankyou :)

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first post, kinda nervy

[noyasmashing]

Not sure if you've written for Iwaizumi yet, but all the fics I see have him as the dominant one and I can't help but want to big spoon that man. Like what if he's totally whipped for the reader? What if he just needs to be taken care of? All that's to say can I request an Iwaizumi fic where he's the one being taken care of for once? You can do whatever you want with this request since it wasn't overly specific!

A/N: Okay, so I originally planned to write just a short drabble about this, but my fingers got ahead of my brain and now it’s turned into a whole fic. I promise I’ll write a thirst piece later that focuses entirely on spoiling him. I hope you enjoy this!

CW: iwa has feels but no established relationship, sub iwa, gn!dom! reader, college au, cuddling, praise, lots of it, hand job, crying, and a bit of edging

WC: 3.8K

Iwaizumi always took pride in his assertive, no-nonsense attitude. It sometimes made him come off harsher than he intended. Yet, here’s the thing: his usual sharp words seemed to evaporate in your presence. You were just so warm and comforting. He couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat when you smiled at him or placed your hands on his hips to slide past him. He was supposed to be the one doing that to you, damn it!

He decided he had to avoid you. It was the only way to stop these confusing feelings from intensifying. It had become worse lately; just last night, he had a vivid dream about sucking your breasts as you praised him.

Iwaizumi's eyes involuntarily squeezed shut, as he tried to suppress the embarrassing memories that flooded his mind. But before he could regain his composure, your voice pierced through the haze, "You alright, Hajime? Here, take this." He snapped his eyes open, catching sight of you sitting across from him, munching on a protein bar and offering him one. The sight of you, so calm and collected, only made him feel more flustered. His cheeks grew hot as he struggled to maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

“O-oh, uh, thanks. Just a little tired, that’s all,” he mumbled, trying to downplay his awkwardness. He took the protein bar, his hands fumbling with the wrapper as he attempted to appear nonchalant. Inside, he was mortified. Why did you have to approach him now, of all times? He felt like such an idiot. Seeing him all alone like that would surely draw your attention to him.

“Stay up too late partying? Let me guess, Toru has a hangover and skipped,” you mused aloud with a small eye roll at the setter’s dramatics, taking another bite of your snack.

Hajime smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I told that dumbass he shouldn’t be taking so many shots, but he doesn’t listen when he’s drunk,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation as he tried to maintain a composed demeanor.

Hajime's face fell as you let out a giggle at his remark, his embarrassment evident as his face flushed. "When does he listen to you, though?" you teased, a playful smile spreading across your lips.

Hajime's hand rose to his hair, his fingers raking through the strands in a nervous gesture. "Sometimes I feel like all I do is yell at him," he said, his voice laced with frustration as he reflected on his tumultuous history with Oikawa.

You couldn't help but indulge in a sympathetic coo at his confession. "Sounds like you need a break, huh?" you suggested, your tone gentle and understanding. Hajime's eyes widened as he drew in a sharp breath, trying to stop the blood now rushing to his lower regions.

“W-what do you mean?” Hajime asked, his voice low and husky, his words barely above a whisper. You bit back a smile, trying to maintain a neutral expression as you gazed at him. His attempts to hide his emotions were laughable, his face a picture of confusion and embarrassment. You could read all the emotions he was feeling right now, and it made you lick your lips.

"Aren't you tired of always being the one in charge?" you asked, your voice soft and enticing. "I bet it would be nice to be pampered, hmm?" You spoke the words slowly, letting them hang in the air as you subtly shifted your position to brush your foot against his leg. The gentle touch sent a shiver through his body, and he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as your ankle teased against his own.

"I-I mean, yeah. It would be nice, considering exams are approaching," Hajime replied, his tone cautious as he struggled to decipher the intentions behind your words. He wasn't sure if you were genuinely trying to be helpful, or if you were just being playful or even flirtatious. As a result, he decided to err on the side of caution and keep his response neutral, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read between the lines.

"What are you doing for the rest of the day?" you asked, your question innocuous enough, but your foot's subtle withdrawal from his leg sent a pang of disappointment through him.

"Well, my afternoon class got canceled since my professor is sick, so I don't have much to do," His voice trembled slightly as he asked the follow-up question, "W-why do you ask?" but he made a conscious effort to hide his emotions, not wanting to reveal the flutter in his chest that had accompanied his words.

"Hmmm, I don't have any more classes either," you said, a thought suddenly occurring to you as you looked at him. "Why don't you come back to my apartment? I don't think I've ever shown it to you," you suggested, a sense of surprise and awareness washing over you as you realized the truth - you'd never actually invited him over before.

"Wha—?" He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Sure," he said, adopting a polite tone to mask his surprise. "What time would be best for you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gauge your intentions.

"Right now, silly!" you exclaimed, standing up and tugging him along by the hand. He let out a surprised gasp as he had no choice but to follow you, his eyes fixed on your retreating back.

"Don't worry, I'm only a five-minute walk from here," you teased, leading him out of the campus. You finally released his wrist, and he fell into step beside you, his pace relaxed.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you. "I wasn't worried," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh yeah. You probably run long distances for cardio conditioning, right?" you chattered as you two turned a corner on the sidewalk. "I hate running; I couldn't imagine," you added.

"It's not that bad, for me anyway," he replied carefully. Normally, he would have scoffed at someone who complained about a particular exercise, but with you, he found himself strangely indifferent. In fact, your aversion to running had suddenly made him less enthusiastic about it himself.

"Really?" you pondered. "I like mountain biking more; the views are so pretty," you said, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you two as you strolled through the bustling streets, the sounds of the city serving as a pleasant background hum. Before long, you led him to your apartment, and you began to prepare a soothing cup of tea. He sat nervously on the mat in front of the table, his eyes fixed on the surface as he awaited his next move.

The soft melody of your humming drifted from the kitchen, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He got up from his seat on the mat, his movements slow and deliberate, and made his way into the kitchen, where he found you busy preparing tea.

"You need any help with that?" he asked, standing in the doorway, his tall frame looming over you as you stood at the counter, his eyes meeting yours as you looked up.

You flashed him a warm smile, one that seemed to stir something deep within him. To his surprise, his legs felt like jelly, and he felt himself shrinking under the gentle warmth of your gaze. "Don't worry your pretty little head, I'm almost done anyway," you said, trying to play it off as a joke. A silly way to let him know you didn’t require his help. But as you looked up at him, you noticed his face had turned a bright, burning red.

He felt his face grow hotter by the second, his mind clouding over with a strange, fuzzy sensation. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he felt so helpless. He had no idea why he was suddenly so overwhelmed, but the feeling was suffocating him.

“Oh-hajime, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”you said, concern etched on your face. You thought he was upset, maybe he had an insecurity you didn’t know about. But as you set the pot down and approached him, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you.

The hug was sudden, and it caught you off guard. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. The words were meant to be strong and confident, but they emerged as a soft, anguished whisper.

Your hands instinctively settled onto his hips, and you paused for a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "You're right, I don't think I do," you said, a hint of curiosity in your tone. "Do you want to show me?" The words were barely out of your mouth when he began to whimper in your ear, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Please, can we go somewhere... more... more..." he trailed off, his words dissolving into a vulnerable silence. You could sense his raw emotion, and it seemed like he was searching for a way to express himself.

“My bedroom is right down here, sweetie,” you guided him towards your bedroom, leading him by the hand down the hallway. He clung to your hand nervously, his eyes fixed on the door ahead.

"Can I ask what's going on?" you asked, settling in beside him on the bed as he shifted his weight onto your lap. His larger frame was now enveloping you, his larger body practically in your lap.

"I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling as he struggled to articulate his emotions. "It's just your voice is so... warm, and it makes my head spin," he admitted, his words faltering as he relived the intensity of the moment.

You chuckled softly, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sounds like you like being spoiled," you teased, leaning in closer to him. As you did, his nose was met with the sweet scent of your perfume, and his gaze was drawn to the plump, inviting curves of your lips. He couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest as he wondered what it would be like to taste them.

"Would you like to cuddle for a bit?" you asked, he nodded without hesitation and he instinctively nestled into the curve of your neck, his body sprawling across yours. Your head sank into the soft pillows as he settled in, his hands awkwardly adjusting the blanket.

“You comfy?” your voice was muffled by his hair, but he felt the gentle touch of your fingers tracing the contours of his back. He shivered in response, his voice barely audible as he murmured a grateful "yes, thank you" into your neck.

Your fingers wandered through the silky strands of his hair, tantalizingly teasing them with a gentle pull every now and then, just to coax out a plaintive whimper from his lips.

Before you knew it, you became aware of a subtle, yet unmistakable, presence against your leg. It was warm, hard, and throbbing with an unmistakable rhythm. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized that Hajime was now subtly moving his hips against your thigh, his body seemingly trying to find its own rhythm.

“Hajime?" you whispered, easing yourself up slightly on the pillow. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were struck by the vivid flush spreading across his cheeks and the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Are you turned on right now?" you asked, your voice low and husky, as your hand wandered down to his hips, grazing the sensitive skin. Hajime's eyes widened in surprise, his pupils dilating as he struggled to process the sudden intimacy. He couldn't meet your gaze, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stuttered out an apology.

"Y-you're just so... so pretty," he stammered, his words faltering as he attempted to put distance between you. He edged away, his body language screaming discomfort and embarrassment, as he tried to regain his composure.

You couldn't help but coo as you took in his flustered state. “Let me take care of you.” You purred gently, making him melt.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you guided him closer, until he was seated between your thighs, his back pressed against your chest.

“Relax” you commanded at his tense frame.

“Right-sorry.” He nodded, doing his best to stop his thighs from flexing when you touched him.

Your fingers danced across his lower abdomen, their slow and deliberate movements sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. As your palms brushed against his skin, his hips instinctively lifted, his body responding to the subtle touch with a primal urge.

"So sensitive," you whispered huskily into his ear, your hot breath sending a thrill through his body. Your fingers drifted down, delicately tracing the outline of his cock still confined by his pants, and he felt his pulse quicken in response.

“'m sorry," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation, as he reached out to grasp your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin as if trying to anchor himself against the impending storm.

"Don't be pretty boy, it's adorable, you're adorable." The words were a gentle taunt, making him let out a pitiful whine. You took advantage of his vulnerability, reaching out to gently grasp his chin and turn his face towards you. His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of pleading and shame, as he struggled to process the softness of your words.

His eyes welled up with tears as he gazed at you, his breathing quickening as a sudden gasp escaped his lips. Your hand, like a gentle thief, slid around his waistband, pulling down the fabric that had been hiding his most intimate secrets from your gaze. The soft fabric slid down, revealing the red puffy cock to you. A lewd slapping sound was heard as his member sprang forth landing on his abdomen, vulnerable and exposed.

He pinched his eyes shut, his eyelids trembling as he desperately tried to block out the reality of the situation. He couldn't believe you were asking him to make eye contact with you as you performed that intimate and revealing act.

He became suddenly aware of a refreshing sensation trickling down his length. He looked to see you expertly applying a lubricant from a bottle, its smooth glide easing onto his twitching shaft. You whispered softly, "This will help," and he nodded in assent, his voice barely above a whisper as he murmured, "It's cold."

You softly cooed, taking a moment to slowly spread the lubricant along his red, swollen cock. His head arched back in a sensual moan as your fingers delicately brushed against his tip, sending shivers through his body.

"I-I think I'm going to come." he slurred, his hooded eyes straining against the pressure of your closed palm. However, the warmth was short-lived as you suddenly pulled your hand away from him, leaving him feeling momentarily deprived and frustrated.

Instead, he was left gasping for air, his cock angrily twitching in frustration. "I can't have you coming too soon," you said, your tone matter-of-fact. "Where's the fun in that?" Your hand returned to his cock, and he sat there, unable to muster a response, his head nodding dumbly in agreement.

You resumed your gentle strokes, and he let out a low groan as he buried his face into your neck. As your hand moved faster, his voice rose to a higher pitch, his pleasure growing more intense. His thighs began to tremble beneath your touch, and despite his efforts to resist, they involuntarily closed in on themselves, betraying his mounting arousal.

You let out a soft sigh, pausing your movements to gently coax his thighs apart once more. "Keep this up and I'll have to invest in a spreader bar," you teased, shaking your head in amusement. With a gentle smile, you resumed your task, your hand moving once more.

“I’m sorry, don’t mean too.” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. But the truth was, he secretly preferred the brief interruptions when you had to pause to re-spread his legs. The momentary respite gave him a chance to catch his breath and regain control. And if he wasn't careful, he risked losing himself entirely, on the cusp of a climax that threatened to overwhelm him.

His abs rippled and flexed as he writhed in your grasp, his body responding to your thumb teasing his tip that seemed to be endlessly leaking with pre cum. The sensation was too much to bear, and he let out a horse cry, his body instinctively jerking and clutching at your wrist as if seeking release from the mounting pleasure.

“fuck-fuck… fUCk. I can’t keep d-doing th-this.” he cursed under his breath. Your own body responded to his reactions, your stomach fluttering with anticipation as you watched him. The way his chest heaved with ragged breaths and the sounds he made sent shivers down your spine, leaving you aching with desire.

"I'm here to help you relax baby. You can come." you whispered softly, your voice gentle and reassuring. Your hands moved in a smooth, steady rhythm, as if guided by an unseen force. Your fingers danced across his skin, exploring every contour and curve. You couldn't resist the urge to experiment, and your fingertips grazed against the sensitive skin of his nipple, still hidden beneath his sweaty shirt.

As he let go, a torrent of white liquid burst forth from his head, splattering his shirt and leaving a visible mark. The cry that escaped his lips was a raw, high-pitched sound, filled with a mix of relief and release. The pent-up emotion seemed to pour out of him, like a dam breaking, as hot tears burned down his cheeks.

“Such a good boy, I didn’t think you would listen so well.” you praised, slowing your strokes. All he could manage was to slur his thanks and catch his breath wearily. It was endearing how overwhelmed he was from a mere handjob. You were going to enjoy having to taking care of him from now on.

[moonswolfie]

The HQ!! boys with their number 1 princess

I highly recommend listening to world is mine while reading!!

in case you couldn't tell this is based on the song world is mine (i'm sure my mutuals are sick of hearing me talk about this song atp lmaoooo)

Characters featured: Ushijima, Kageyama, Kenma, Oikawa, Kita

𖦹:･ﾟUshijima Wakatoshi

"Well, are you gonna say anything or not?!" your sudden outburst surprised Wakatoshi.

"Was I supposed to say something?" he asked, almost used to you getting angry for seemingly no reason at this point.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You didn't even notice, did you?!"

"Notice what?" he asked, clearly confused. He simply wanted to know the reason you're angry with him and how he can fix it. He thinks you look much better when smiling, after all.

"You idiot! I got my hair done! I was flipping my hair at you all day and you didn't even acknowledge it!" you turned away from him, hmphing.

"Oh. I did notice the hair." he stated simply.

"Well then say something about it!"

𖦹:･ﾟKageyama Tobio

"Hey, let's- what is that?" Kageyama stopped mid sentence when noticing the drawing in your notebook.

You closed it at light speed.

"Hey! Don't look at things you're not supposed to!" you scolded him, clutching the notebook in your hold.

What Kageyama just got a glance at was your self-indulgent drawing of him as a prince kissing your hand.

"It was wide open for everyone to see!" Kageyama defended himself, clenching his fist.

"Whatever, just- you didn't see anything, okay?" you swatted his chest lightly with your hand.

"Wait, that kind of looked like you-"

"You didn't see anything, okay?"

𖦹:･ﾟKozume Kenma

"Get me pudding. That's an order." you crossed your arms, plopping down on the bench.

His very fortunately colored hair left you with a little craving.

Kenma sighed, going back to walk into the store. How in the world does he always end up complying to your demands, anyways?

After he bought the pudding, he brought it back to you, who was still pouting and sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. When you noticed him and the pudding in his hands, your face lit up.

"Thank you!!˜" you smiled cheerily, snatching the pudding out of his hands.

Oh, now he knows why. That sweet smile is far too addicting.

𖦹:･ﾟOikawa Tooru

"Hey! Look at me, will you?!" you kicked Oikawa with your pretty pair of heels.

You went to hang out and he barely even looked at your cute outfit. This is absolutely criminal.

"Owww, stop that, will you?!" he complained, mumbling about how he can't catch a break from being abused. How does he always end up with friends who hit him, anyways?

"Fine, fine, I'll look." he rubbed his back, finally looking you up and down.

"You look..."

"I look...?"

"Pretty okay, I guess?" Oikawa winked, shrugging, as if he didn't just experience ten consecutive heart attacks from how cute you looked in that dress. Internally, of course.

"You little- Ugh!" you swung at him again.

𖦹:･ﾟKita Shinsuke

You walked away from Kita, who was busy with something else. If he isn't going to pay attention to you, you might as well go pet that cat across the street.

Ohh, it looks so cute and fluffy. You're ready to pounce.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being embraced from behind, flinching and turning your head back to see Kita.

"Uhhhh?!" you stammered out, completely flustered. What in the world?! He's actually hugging you right now! Could this mean...

"You almost ran into that person. Be more careful." he explained simply, letting you go and turning back to whatever he was doing.

Suddenly you're worried about your walking abilities with how much your legs are shaking.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

╰┈➤ ❝ luke x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 (backlog)

tags : pwp (without plot), cuddle fucking, grinding, morning sex, vaginal sex, slight tickling, teasing, clit play, a liiittle bit of feelings addressed but it's mostly ambiguous, praise, mostly really just soft giggly sex, use of pet names "baby" "pretty girl" "pretty baby". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.5k

an : I ACTUALLY DID MAKE IT TO TWO FICS TODAY and it's like. i know that it's About Time that i've finally written a solo fic for luke (sorry baby i know i've been neglecting you a lil 😭).... and this actually kind of made me love him extra :(

taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Morning-afters with him aren't so bad.

"Mmm… Morning, baby~"

Arms snaked over your side, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he pulled you in closer. His breath was hot against your skin, head resting lazily into the crook of your neck. And though his voice was still rough, very obviously still fighting off the remnants of his sleepiness, he seemed to have enough energy to give you a squeeze.

It did well to wake you up.

With a quiet laugh, you tilted your head. "G'morning, Luke." Your eyes closed as you nuzzled against his nose, feeling his own quiet chuckle tickling against your lips. "Sleep well?" you murmured.

"Mm."

His only reply.

It was almost odd to have him so quiet; now and again he'd be chattering along and filling your ears with only his voice. There was rarely ever a minute you'd go without hearing it; you'd become used to it by now.

Yet this time, he could only pepper your face with little kisses, almost as if still trying to process the fact that you were, in fact, right here in his arms.

"I'm real, you know," you rolled your eyes playfully. "What's gotten into you?"

"Mmh, c'monnnn. What, I can't kiss the pretty girl in my arms?"

Butterfly kisses continued, light and fluttering as they would be. Over your eyes, your nose, your cheek, your chin, your lips—they barely lasted a second before they moved elsewhere, and your quiet laughs soon turned into a little fit of giggles.

"Hey! Not when it tickles!"

You'd both opened your eyes to lock onto each other's, and somehow, immediately you felt yourself regretting that statement.

"Ooh, it tickles?"

He was smirking.

"…Nope! Not at all! I don't know what you're—"

He cut you off this time by brushing his fingers over the bare skin of your stomach, and you squeaked.

The smirk on his face had since grown into a satisfied grin.

"Luukeee!" you whined, to no avail—

"Nuh-uh! No take-backsies!"

Another squeal fell from your lips as his hands roamed your body, poking at your sides and purely enjoying the way you erupted in laughter. "Luke!" you cried out, thrashing in his arms. "Hey! Hey, sto—ahahahaha! Stop it!! You goon, you—!"

He had the audacity to shut you up with a kiss, sacrificing the tickling in favor of tilting your head back to lock his lips with yours. And, ironically enough—in a manner so typical of Luke—it felt as if such tender kisses were a stark contrast from what he'd just been doing.

When he pulled back, he snuggled into the crook of your neck, and you panted for air.

"Idiot…" you huffed.

"Aww, you love it!" He laughed into your skin, drawing you as close to him as possible. There was a beat; a pause, and then he spoke again. "Mmh, hey, baby… Confession?"

You felt your eyebrows shoot up. It wasn't necessarily that his tone had turned serious, but moments like these were quite rare from him.

"What's there to confess?" you reached over to lace your hands together.

Another quiet laugh.

"Ah, well… Kinda maybe had a dream of you…"

A smile poked at your lips.

"Of me?"

"Mhm, of us."

This time, his hand moved to your hip as he pulled you flush against him, grinding into you just enough to slip between your thighs. "…Of last night."

You could tell that he was sincere, if his hard length rubbing against your thighs wasn't enough proof for you. He was warm, and throbbing—you couldn't help but turn to flash him a grin, tapping the tip of his nose. "Awww, Luke. You missed me in your sleep?"

He huffed.

"Pretty girl, after last night? Ha, I think I'd miss you all the time."

Whether it was to pay back the tease in your voice or as a means to get you just as riled up as he was, you felt his fingers trail down to circle around your clit, and your laughter easily turned into another squeal.

With your hips jolting at the contact, you lightly smack on his arm. "Luke!"

"Whaaatt?"

It was his turn to grin, and you felt it in the way he kissed you. Still light, still tender—but the corners of his lips lifted up, and you nearly gasped into him as he finally grazed over your silky wet cunt. Soft, gentle strokes worked to gather up your wetness, easily turning you into a sticky mess for him.

He was so good at making you need him.

Your hips bucked into his hand, thighs sliding over his length to give him equal stimulation. He groaned into the kiss—you affected him just as much as he did you—but it was obvious that he was still fighting down a laugh.

A laugh.

"Acting like you're all that, but look at you being so needy f'me~" he taunted. His petting through your folds continued, free hand raking up your sides again to tickle you—because for him having started this by being the needy one, he was certainly having his fun playing.

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he played with your clit, laughter tinged with delirium. His fingers slid the moisture up to your bud, tracing tiny circles around the bead that had you fisting your hands into the covers, and taking tiny, gasping breaths.

"Hnng—Luke, baby, come on—" you moan helplessly beneath his touch, trying to find the balance between the giggles that tried to surface, and the sounds of pleasure you couldn't stop. "Ugh, it's your fault! When you touch me this good, what else do you think would happen?!"

"Hmm? I dunnooo, but I was counting on this for sure…"

He laughed at your expense—as he often did—before leaning in to kiss lightly at your jaw. "C'mon, baby. You're pretty... So so pretty. Help me out? Pleaseeee?"

His words of resignation did not match the snicker that fell out as the tip of his finger dipped teasingly into your hole… before pulling out.

"Luke!"

"Whaatt~? What do you want me to do, then?"

Another light smack at his arm, and his shoulders shook from laughter as he brought his hand away from you and up to his lips. Quick licks brought the taste of you on his tongue, and he let out a satisfied smile. "Mmm, the best ever."

You rolled your eyes.

"Luke. If you don't fuck me right this seco—"

Your body jolted.

Strategically, or not quite strategically, he'd thrust himself from between your legs and grazed the tip at your clit.

A groan resounded in your ear as he repeated the motions, getting your wetness to coat his dick, leaning down to take in the scent of your skin. "M'gonna, just, wait a sec…"

Despite yourself, you laughed, pushing against him. Your breathing shallowed as the pleasure only worked to make you wetter, but the ridiculousness of this situation meant you couldn't help it. And laughter would be as contagious as it ever was—despite his movements not particularly stopping, you felt him start laughing with you.

"You, pffft— You wanted to get me in the mood, and now you're telling me to wait?! Be so for real, Luke."

"Wh—as if it's entirely my fault! Pretty baby, I could be between your legs for hours—"

"Shut! C'mon, just put it in!"

You almost had half a mind to straddle him yourself and take matters into your own hands, but in the state you were in—shaking with laughter, almost numb from shortness of breath—there was no way you could overpower him enough to do so.

Thankfully, with a roll of his eyes, he reached down to position himself properly before he finally thrust inside of you.

Immediately your giggles shifted into a moan, and you gasped when his hand moved up to toy with your breasts.

"There we go… attagirl…" he mumbled, already panting as much as you were.

Yet he stayed soft, and slow.

Unlike last night, his thrusts this time were a little lazy; rhythmic in a way that was almost relaxing to you.

As the laughter died down, you leaned back into his chest, tilting your head back so you could see him.

He smiled.

"Sheesh… you're so fucking pretty."

"Mhm? Your pretty girl?" you grinned, and he moaned, thrusting particularly deep to have you gasp in return.

"Hell yeah. My pretty baby."

And then his lips were on yours, hips still gently fucking into you, fingers intertwined as he insisted to feel connected to you as much as he possibly could.

He was so silly, Luke. A menace, whether you liked it or not (though you did). But when it came to things like this… he was always the sweetest, most loving person that you've ever seen.

Praises whispered against your lips as he refused to part, and you thought to yourself… If you could wake up next to him like this every day, things really wouldn't be too bad at all.

"Mm… You just got so tight around me, baby. Relax, what're you thinking?"

You huffed in response. "Not of your concern."

"No?"

"No."

"But you feel so good, pretty girl… Is that it? Do you like that?" He grinned in your ear as he angled his hips, thrusting up to graze against your g-spot.

"Fuck—"

"Yeah, exactly what I'm trying to do here."

"Luke!"

You hit his arm for the nth time that morning, but you didn't stop the smile from forming on your face.

Yep. Not bad at all.

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