#and i wanna get lashes tooo

[megwuru]

life would be so awesome if i wasn't broke

[sukunasweetheart]

Headcanons for sukuna as a volleyball player - idk if i wanted this to be set during highschool or not so i guess it'll be kinda generic or all over the place haha,, dedicated to @luvkun4 my love, who likes haikyuu and sukuna so its a perfect combo for her

warnings; NSFW, throat fucking, rough and angry sex, degradation, femme reader, youre kinda his pocket pu$$y but also his sweet gf, minor angst but with happy end -- this wouldve been a good fic but i dont have the energy for a fully written fic nowadays, im alr working on a billion rn

edit; THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LENGTHYY sorry, i wanted to add in the drama

right.. idk from where i should unpack this

we all know... sukuna would be competitive as fuck.

i know for a fact that he hates losing so much

which is what makes him such a good player tbh, the balls not gonna touch the ground as long as hes around

he’s a wing spiker, and definitely the ace (cough, totally not inspired by this gorgeous fanart)

hes so mean and arrogant but is willing to demonstrate teamwork in order to win and so theres obvious respect between him and his teammates

uraume is the manager, tho its clear that they favour sukuna the most pff

sukunas such a powerful player, no one can beat him one on one and hes so sexy when hes playing seriously

volleyball sukuna and his fuckin horse cock, u bet u wanna get wrecked by his shii

problem is, i cant find a creative way of how yall first met 

idk, probably through mutual friends, out in a big group at a restaurant ?? maybe you hooked up with him afterwards and you both caught feelings for each other

yeah something along those lines

anyway ofc seggs after matches are a regular thing haha

its almost an expectation that you come to see his games now

here comes the smut smut smut

vb sukuna would totally drag you into the unisex bathrooms so you can “help him relax” right before the game starts...

nothing like cumming down your throat to get him all warmed up

and youre such a whore for him, you can never say no bc YOU DONT WANT TOOO <3

even tho you make a fuss about the icky floor pfft, he grunts and lays a bunch of toilet paper for u to kneel on, what a gentleman

his soft groans as he lodges his thick cock into your warm mouth, and then pushing your head down to go even deeper

the pleasures just too great, the thrilling mixture of being in a public toilet right before a big match, fucking your tight throat raw

and your teary eyes, fluttering your lashes up at him with a mouthful of dick, he could laugh from how adorable you look

after hes done spurting stringy thick ropes of his seed down your esophagus hes just: “thanks babe... you sucked the nerves right outta me.”

and you know its bullshit bc hes smirking in that sarcastic way, and its a fact that sukuna doesnt know what it feels to be nervous!!!

lucky for you, he treats you better than anyone else - he wipes your mouth and kisses you before parting ways with you

likes to give you another smirk once he finds you amongst the audience

its crazy how much energy he still has after games

on the rare occasions when his team loses... oh boy

100% takes his frustration out using sex

just thinking abt the simmering anger...practically throws you onto his bed

pins your body down and slamming into you with his whole body weight

ruins you so bad, bruises and bites literally everywhere

but like... you’re into that shit

butterflies in stomach whenever the other team ends up winning

“ugh...fuckin’ squeezing me like that... you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“maybe you like it when i lose a game. what a whore.”

“sukuna...sukuna, too bi-big..”

“oh? and you’d think this cunt would be pretty used to it by now,” he responds cockily. it turns you on when he uses such vulgar language.

spills so many loads into you, youre like a cream filled donut by the end

spanks you too, handprints on your ass and all - omg imagine the strength as a vb player

the aftercare is nice, usually he brings you to the bath immediately and check you out if you need ointment applied to your skin or vice versa

but it wouldnt be surprising if he got lazy with it on some days, especially after an exhausting game, having sex on top of that is gotta be tough

also he spends a lot of time training and practicing, which adds to your loneliness

sometimes you overthink it and feel like youre just being used, but instead of communicating it, you just act more sensitively around him

and vb sukuna sucks at picking up the small cues, so he just thinks youre being unreasonable

the two of you get into a pretty heated argument which ends with you storming off one time

theres a bit of silent treatment going on, but then afterwards you start talking with him “normally” again

theres an obvious distance growing between you and him, and your attitude is colder than it used to be. sukuna thinks its something thatll pass sooner or later

but then you text him, saying that you wont be able to come and see his game

thats not right. hes had a few fights with you before, but you’ve never skipped out on coming to watch him like this, ever.

but being a prideful tsundere he is, he just replies with a “do whatever you want” before chucking his phone off to the side (which he checks later again, to see if you said anything more after that. you didnt.)

on the day of the match, hes constantly checking the crowd if youre there

its not like *glance* he cares *glance* about you coming *glance* or anything *glance*

his mates raise eyebrows and tell him to focus properly and hes never looked scarier lmao

they won in the end, but the taste of victory isnt the same

the group wants to celebrate and go to some restaurant to eat but he skips out and goes home alone

and when he opens his door to an empty and dark living room, he cant shake off the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach

totally doesnt google search “signs of an incoming breakup”

feels worse afterwards

eats a nice and nutritious meal he cooked for himself, but it tastes kinda like cardboard

i said previously that sukuna doesnt know what feeling nervous is, but now he does, hes terrified youre gonna pull the breakup card on him, he wont know how to deal with that

he has a feeling that if he doesnt do something about this now, he will lose his chance forever

sukuna calls you but you dont pick up

he finds his way to your front door and rings the bell, and you call out from the other side asking him what he wants from you

“why didnt you pick up any of my calls? i want to talk.”

he hates how whiny he sounds.

you crack open the door ever so slightly, so only one of your eyes are visible to him

“about what?”

“about... this. about us.”

“...you’ve been crying. let me in.”

he gently pushes open your door and you stand out of the way, letting him

...and he starts with an apology. about saying mean things to you during the argument, about acting like he doesnt care when he does (he cares so much abt you that it drives him mad), pretending not to notice how upset you were

you watch him sternly, but end up bursting into tears bc youre so relieved he came out and admitted to his faults, and that theres hope for this relationship

youre bawling as he pulls you into his arms, and you confess that not going to see him and treating him coldly was the hardest thing youve ever done in your life

sukunas so relieved you still feel deeply for him, and simultaneously upset bc youre upset

you reveal that youve been feeling neglected, feeling like he only liked you for your body, and you too, apologise for not communicating that and acting sensitively instead

hes appalled, calls you an idiot but then retracts that statement and denies ever having thought in that way

the two of you snuggle up so close together in your bed, communicating and chatting and catching up for hours while he occasionally eyes the mountain of used tear-filled tissues in your room, rather concerned

for a while, he doesnt initiate sexual activity unless you specifically want it bc he wants to prove he likes spending quality time with you just as much <3

and when sex does eventually happen, he makes it very romantic and meaningful, with proper aftercare, continuously whispering “i love you,” throughout

and he shall do anything to have you keep loving him back.

some general stuff with vb sukuna:

mad tall. i wont give an exact number but anywhere between 195 - 200cm tall :>

mad horny. hes like an animal

hes such a big eater,, i mean, i see sukuna as a big eater in any au but this one in particular bc hes an athlete haha

u probably make protein shakes for him and stuff, but hes not rly on a strict diet or anything, he just eats anything and everything

has a lotta fangirls >:( but he ignores them now, after he met you >:) but before, he probably played around a lot and hooked up with some >:( he never liked any of them to stick around, tho >:) except you >:)

goes on morning runs, at like 6am and gives u a kiss on the cheek beforehand

is so fucking touchy clingy, always needs you on his lap, hands under your skirt or shirt

the last guy who tried to hit on you got a nosebleed, getting hit with a volleyball (its so funny, he changed his aim mid-spike during a practice match)

haha he was sent to the bench for that one (everyone was chuckling behind their hands)

the headband was given to him by you, bc he once complained abt having to gel his hair every morning + gel doesnt keep his hair in shape when hes sweating excessively

thats all for today <3 thanks for reading

Masterlist

tagging; @yuujispinkhair @moonchild-artemisdaughter @skunaskitten

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Jonah Beck & The Doors

Word Count: 1,870 TW: implied abuse, bruising A/N: i think i read a fic like this a while back somewhere, but i can’t remember?? anyways i’ve been thinking about jonah’s home life for a while, and i wanted to write a fic dedicated to it!! i hope you enjoy!

also this isn’t ship oriented, just good friends!

Monday mornings were never days that anyone looked forward to. Staying up late on a Sunday proved to be a bad choice, when you walked in looking like a twice-dead zombie.

Monday mornings were worse if you were Jonah Beck and you were walking in with a black eye and bruises down your right arm (his frisbee-throwing arm!). But nobody needed to know why he wasn’t looking like a ray of sunshine.

Just smile, he thought to himself, grinning as he entered the school, his head hung low, smile, and everything is going to be all right.

Before the bell for first period rang, Jonah shuffled to his locker and grabbed his books for Geometry, his least favorite class.

“Jonah, hey!” a familiar voice that could only be Andi called. She bounced over to him, pushing her bangs to the side.

Jonah grimaced; there was no way that he was getting out of this conversation without making eye contact.

Now or never, he thought to himself, picking up his head.

“Hey Andiman,” he greeted, tugging on his backpack straps with nervous energy as Andi sucked in the air that surrounded them.

“Jonah! Your eye...what happened?” she fretted, her soft brows eyes flooding with worry as she scanned his injuries.

“Oh, uh, I was at frisbee practice and I missed it completely!” he lied smoothly, smiling so hard his face was starting to hurt, “yeah, Gus threw it and I guess the sun was in my eyes because the next thing I know BAM!” he exclaimed, “frisbee to the face. I’ll be fine though,”

Andi seemed relieved with this answer, nodding her head. “Well, be careful out there. Put some ice on it to help the swelling,” she informed him, wincing at the shrill bell that signaled first period.

“I will, thanks. See you at lunch.” Jonah pivoted on his heel and hurried away, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. That went...surprisingly smoothly.

“And since these angles are equal, we can deduct that the shape is-”

“Pst!” Buffy whispered, tapping Jonah’s desk lightly, “do you have an extra pencil?”

Jonah nodded, digging through his bag and pulling out a few crumpled papers before handing Buffy a pencil.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, focusing her attention on the problem on the board. Why was geometry so boring? This class was definitely the one that seemed to drag on and on. After several more proofs, the bell rang and the students were never as happy as they were now.

“Remember to do the last few problems in the packet!” The teacher reminded his students, grabbing his eraser and clearing the board of any stray marks.

“Ugh, I don’t want tooo,” Jonah groaned, tilting his head up to face the light from the ceiling. Curse gravity for allowing his hood from his sweatshirt to fall. Curse the university for having Buffy standing right in front of him.

“Dude, your eye!” she gawked, taking a step closer and examining it like she was his doctor, “did you get in a fight?”

Something like that, he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “No, I, uh, I actually got hurt playing frisbee. I ran to catch one and then tripped over a tree root, and fell,” he lied, curling his toes inside his sneakers. Was that what he had told Andi? He knew it had something to do with frisbee, but he wasn’t sure. Close enough.

“Yikes,” she commented, her brows furrowing, “well, make sure to put ice on that, or use some sort of concealer to make it look less...bad.” She then handed Jonah his now dull pencil and promptly turned to walk to class.

The athlete exhaled shakily, shuffling out of the classroom and back to his locker.

It seemed to get easier and easier to lie to people. Throughout the day, people had come up to him, asking him why he looked like he was beaten in a fight. And he would calmly explain that he hurt himself in frisbee practice, even throwing in a few jokes about him being clumsy in there. It seemed to please people, and by the end of the day, he even made a few ‘friends’, or rather close acquaintances, who had shared their stories about sports injuries.

Safe to say, Jonah was feeling a lot better by the time it was time to walk home. Until he realized what home meant, and his happy demeanor disappeared.

“Ready to go?” Cyrus chirped from his locker, holding his history book under one arm and having his bag slung over his opposing shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied shakily, feeling his Adams apple wobble in his throat. He and Cyrus always walked home together, but today was different. He was terrified that Cyrus would give him one look and all his carefully constructed walls would come crumbling down. And he totally would have made it home without any issue were it not for Cyrus pointing out the fall foliage.

“Look, Jonah! Aren’t the maple leaves just gorgeous in the fall?” he gushed, a huge grin splitting his face.

Jonah peered up at the leaves, being basked by the golden sunlight. Squinting, he tried to make out the colors. “Yeah, they’re pretty nice,” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down the trunk of the tree until something obstructed his view; Cyrus was standing directly in front of him. Staring at him in the eyes. At the one that was bruised.

“Jonah,” he started softly, his eyebrows drawn up in concern, “what happened to your eye?”

Jonah tried to follow his routine that he had perfected at school. First step was to smile, but it was weaker, and faker, than before. Cyrus definitely noticed that. Bless his inner therapist.

“Dude, I totally fumbled at frisbee practice yesterday. Collided with one kid going for the frisbee and we just...clashed,” he lied, grinning so hard that it was starting to physically hurt.

Meeting Cyrus’ eyes, he knew it was over; Cyrus had that ‘look’ that meant he knew something was up, but he was going to wait until Jonah spilled. The Jewish boy wasn’t one to intrude.

“We didn’t have practice yesterday, Jonah,” Cyrus reminded him, “or else I would have been there to hand out snacks and things like that.”

It was definitely over at this point. No way Jonah was going to squeeze out of this situation.

“It-it’s nothing major really,” he lied again, his voice low along with his head. Trying to focus on all the fallen leaves on the ground was not helping; they just made him think of Cyrus and that damned face.

The two walked in uncomfortable silence for a bit, kicking at the brittle leaves under the soles of their shoes. Cyrus finally broke the silence as they pulled up to his driveway.

“I’d really like it if you came inside,” he offered kindly, “my parents definitely won’t mind, and I can text your mom and tell her you’re here,”

Jonah stared at him at first, blinking owlishly, until he softly nodded his head, ducking into Cyrus’ house.

“Mom! I’m home!” Cyrus called, but to no response, “she’s probably in a therapy session, but we can go to my room.” He led the other boy up the stairs, texting Mrs. Beck that he and Jonah were working on a school project, to which she replied ‘thank you for telling me’.

“So,” Cyrus began, ushering Jonah inside and motioning for him to take a seat on his beanbag, “I’m not going to force you to talk. We can just sit here until you’re ready,”

“Your inner therapist is jumping out,” Jonah joked weakly, his lips twitching into a gentle smile, “...I just-I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted after a beat.

“In what sense?” Cyrus pried, crossing his legs, “hold on. Turn towards me, I wanna see your eye,”

Jonah chewed on his lip, biting down so hard that he threatened to draw blood. “Lately I’ve...I don’t even really know why but,” he paused, holding his breath for a few seconds. Now was not when he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to cry at all, but he hadn’t even said what happened.

“Take your time,” Cyrus assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Jonah tense at the touch, and immediately removed his hand. “Sorry,”

“It’s not your fault, I’m just...clumsy.” He picked the word with caution, his hand trailing up towards his bruised eye, tentatively gracing his skin.

“You’re one of the most athletically gifted people I know, Jonah. You’re not clumsy,” Cyrus promised him, tracing circles into his own palm.

“I...I walked into a door,” he managed to spit out, sucking in all the oxygen that surrounded him and Cyrus. How badly he wished he could have taken back his words. He really didn’t want Cyrus to worry about him.

Cyrus felt like he’d just been punched in the gut, all the air knocked out of him. Jonah, sweet and happy Jonah, was going through one of the worst situations imaginable. “How long have you been...walking into doors?”

Jonah sighed, leaning his head against Cyrus and taking in the comforting scent of his lemon shampoo. “I-I think...for a few months. The first one I walked into wasn’t bad; there wasn’t even bruising. But after that...I became more and more clumsy.” His voice cracked in the middle of his words, tears pushing against his lashes.

Another sickening feeling overtook Cyrus, who gingerly put an arm around Jonah. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to overstep again. He could feel Jonah nod against his shoulder, and slowly rubbed his arm. Jonah winced, and Cyrus immediately stopped.

“I-ran into a really bad door the other day,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a few fading bruises, a few blue, the others yellow in color.

Cyrus swallowed thickly, examining Jonah’s bruises carefully, his dainty fingers brushing against his arm. “If-if you ever find yourself running into any more doors, you know you can always call me and sleepover,” he murmured, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

Jonah tried to smile back, but collapsed into Cyrus’ chest, his tears staining the other boy’s light blue shirt. And he wanted to stop so badly but that was beyond his control; he’d slipped into a world where he no longer held the reins.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cyrus reassured him over and over, “It’s terrible what’s happening, and I’m so sorry, but things will be alright,”

Jonah didn’t know how long he stayed there, tangled in Cyrus arms and bawling his eyes out. It was relieving in a way; it definitely helped to be able to tell someone.

“Thanks,” he mumbled after a while, prying himself off of Cyrus, “for...helping me with these pesky doors,” he sighed, running his hands through his matted hair.

“Of course,” Cyrus replied immediately, a weak smile dancing on his lips, “and Jonah?”

“Yeah?“

“If you ever think you’re going to walk into a door again, your room is a place where you can’t do that. Try and find solidarity,”

Jonah beck smiled genuinely for the first time that day. Things were going to be okay.

tag list: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz

[confu-xion]

Its been a while

I know I need to vent when I start getting moody/irritable and start lashing out. Things that are on my mind rn:

School- My semester 2 results came out and they WERE AMAZING. Like alhmadulilah I’m sooo happy and they were sooo good. I kinda wish my semester 1 results had been just as good so my overall WAM would be a lot more than just okay. Cos rn my WAM is okay, but it wouldve been better if it was higher cos then I could have gotten an early round offer for dentistry. So now I’m super anxious about when i get the offer or IF i get the offer. Cos there is a very high probability I dont get it. Cos who knows there might be a whole bunch of kids who have done a lot better than me. Yikes. IDK. I feel like i do have issues with my pride and allah swt might not give it to me to teach me how to be humble. Or it gets given to me and its terrible. I suppose all i can do is make dua and ask its given to me and its good for me. BUT I JUST WANNA KNOW NOWWW like uuughhh I hate waiting. Also when i told my sister my results she’s like dentistry is yours and Idk like its shady. But then again you should never lose hope in Allah. So idk. I just wanna know. 

Freinds - so it’s been a couple of weeks me and my ex best mate decided to call it quits. And a mutual friend of ours organised shopping and lunch and she’s coming. And that will be my first time seeing her in a verrryy long time and post breakup. So I wanna be looking cute AF. And while a part of me wants to be snide and make mean remarks and make her feel like shit and never wanna leave the house again, a part of me is also like show her u don’t care and be really smiley and lovely and gentle and show her how much better off you are without her. And I should make everyone laugh and just be an all around saint and make her realise what an amazing friend she lost so she can sit there and be miserable. Either way I kinda wanna make a stab at her. It’s very petty, I know, but I still wanna do it. Also it’s gonna be 29 degrees so it’s gonna be hot so I can’t wear anything tooo fancy cos I’m a sweaty boi. Family - things are okay. Idk wtfs going on with my parents divorce but it’s not my business now innit.