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iwaplant · 2 years ago

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having a crush on iwaizumi is heartbreaking.

romanticizing the cheesiest of things knowing that he doesn’t return your feelings is heartbreaking. he isn’t a natural heartbreaker, but he sure captures many hearts, including yours.

first to arrive in homeroom, you take out your notebook, filled with miscellaneous thoughts and feelings. writing in your notebook, you write the cheesiest moments that fuel the one-sided romance between you and iwaizumi:

1. he twirls you goofily in public. twirling you flush to his chest, whispering sweet nothings and twirling you back out. you giggling at his antics while he stares at you with love.

2. peppered kisses all over your face and neck that tickles, resulting in you squealing and squirming. iwaizumi holding you tight and continuing his reign of affection and playfulness on you.

3. bumping into each other at night, wondering why the universe paired you together at that specific time. giggling, catching up, joking around, and being yourself around iwaizumi was cathartic. you wish you had more time, but the universe could only do so much.

4. watching movies together, glancing (or staring) at his side profile and admiring him. he does the same thing right back at you, and ends up moving closer to initiate cuddling. over time, you both fall asleep on each other, not finishing the movie.

5. him stopping by your apartment at 2am asking if you want to grab some food. hearing that you are feeling shitty impulsively made him take you out to get your mind off things. late night car drives with small indie artist music playing in the background, but it ends up not working and plays different songs because it only happens to not work whenever iwaizumi is with you. iwaizumi glancing over at your lips and wonders if you put lipstick on. (it’s just lip balm, he couldn’t tell the difference because your lips looked kissable)

6. watching a drive in romantic movie together. him taking in your features and your glasses. he notes the brand your glasses are, and not everyone truly knows what brand they are. you both see shooting stars three times, nudging each other and sharing soft whispers. him catching bugs for you and letting them go far away from you. iwaizumi walking you to the bathroom and waiting for you.

your brain and dreams continuously torture you as you admire iwaizumi from afar, knowing that your heart will be broken if you confess. you know that he doesn’t like you the same way you do. how heartbreaking to know that all of this will never blossom into something romantic and true. writing furiously in your notebook, you didn’t notice iwaizumi walking into the room.

iwaizumi walks into homeroom, seeing you writing something in your notebook. he smiles, staring at your beauty.

but, did you ever consider that iwaizumi may like you back? did you ever consider that you have his heart in the palm of your hand?

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A/N: HOLY SHIT LOL… i wrote this to get my one-sided romance daydreaming with my crush off my chest… and this is a lot i am sorry :( some of the cheesy moments happened, but not all of them teehee i hope you enjoy my daydreams

#iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu hcs #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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heich0e · 3 years ago

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When your eyes open, Suna is practically nose to nose with you.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

You flinch away instinctively, your brain belatedly processing the fact that someone is so close to you so unexpectedly, shaking the grogginess of slumber with a dose of epinephrine.

"What the hell, Rintarou!" your voice is croaky and annoyed, pushing your boyfriend away from you weakly in the bed the two of you share.

He settles back into his side, watching as you rub at your bleary eyes and push yourself upright to peer over at the alarm clock on the bedside table closest to him.

"Why are you awake at 2am?" you ask him, frustrated and curious all at once.

"I was watching soap cutting videos," he replies simply, holding up his cellphone where--lo and behold--a disembodied hand is making quick work of slicing bars of soap into impossibly tiny cubes on the screen. He has an airpod in one ear, visible because he has a hairband holding his dark hair back from his face, explaining why the video is playing without sound.

You blink at him, mind still hazy and syrupy slow from sleep. He watches your face even as the video on his phone plays on.

"You were talking about ice cream."

"What?" you ask him, confused.

"In your sleep,"--he nods towards your pillow as if to remind you of what you'd been doing before he'd so unceremoniously woken you up--"you were talking about ice cream."

"You woke me up...at two in the morning...to tell me that I was talking about ice cream in my sleep?"

Suna lifts his hands, as if to signify innocence. "I didn't do anything. I was just trying to hear what you were talking about. And what you were talking about was ice cream."

You groan, flopping back in bed.

"Go back to your stupid little videos, soap boy, and leave me to sleep like a normal person."

Suna snorts, but doesn't offer any further argument, letting you settle in on your side with your back to him once more.

It's quiet for a while, and you let your eyes flutter open after a few useless minutes of trying to fall asleep. You watch the way the dim light coming from the screen of Suna's phone paints the dark bedroom in muted, cool tone washes of colour from over your shoulder. It's not bright enough to be annoying, or keep you from sleeping, but you find yourself focused on it nonetheless.

You roll over, and Suna's sharp eyes turn to you--his face illuminated in a soft glow from his phone held in his hand.

"Why aren't you sleeping, normal person?" he asks.

You pout, and he lifts his arm wordlessly so you can wiggle closer under the blankets and curl up against his side, throwing one of your legs over his thigh.

You huff a little as you bury your face into his hoodie, his hand (not holding his phone) slipping down and smoothing along your spine.

"What's wrong?" he asks you.

You pick your face up to fix him with a weak glare.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he says quietly, eyes scanning your face.

You purse your lips. "S'not that."

His brow quirks.

You sigh, letting your forehead flop forward against his chest, mumbling something lost to incoherency in the soft material of his sweatshirt.

"I don't speak whatever language that was," he says with a chuckle.

You pick your face up once more, a look of indignation tugging down at the corners of your mouth. "Now I want ice cream."

Suna laughs, tilting his head back into the pillows as his body shakes.

"Like right now?" he asks through his mirth.

You nod.

"Can I finish this video first?" He holds up the phone to where his latest soap chopping video is paused.

You mull it over.

"Yeah, but take your airpods out so I can hear it too," you concede, nestling down against him so you have a good view of the screen. "And you're buying."

"Yeah, yeah," Suna says, humming placatingly. He rests his hand atop your head as he hits play on the video once more and the scraping sound of a knife slicing through oil and alkali plays through the room. "Whatever you want, babe."

#suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou #suna x you #suna x reader #hq drabble #hq fluff #hq writing #writing

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rubyreduji · 2 years ago

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[minors dni]

greasy gamer pervert wonwoo who you're forced to live with because he's friends with your brother and now you guys share an apartment and he's the worst roommate ever because all he does is tease you and play video games

and he's such a fucking loser like barely wears pants and rarely does chores so you're left doing all of the cooking and cleaning. the only place you don't clean is wonwoo's room because you're too scared to go in there but every once in a while wonwoo comes out with a stack of dishes for you to do and you want to strangle him even more than normal

the most infuriating thing about living with wonwoo though is the fact that he's so effortlessly handsome and charming even when he's being the most rancid human being you've ever met. you'll be seconds away from yelling at him but then he shoots you a sly smile and suddenly you're doing his laundry for him

the factor of living with wonwoo that you weren't expecting at all is the way he's a total fucking pervert. you can hear his hentai porn videos blasting out of his speakers at 2am in the morning and you know it's on purpose because when he's gaming he always wears those digusting headphones that make his hair even greasier than it already is

then there was that time when you came home from a long day at work and wonwoo was in only his boxers on the couch, his dick pulled out from the leg, jerking himself hard, his other hand cupped around his balls. his whimpering was pathetic as he tried to get off. when you walked in you stopped right in the entrance, staring at him. neither of you said a word or made a move to leave either so wonwoo continued to buck up into his fist. he stared at you the whole time and you didn't take your eyes off of him either until he gasped and spurted semen all over his hand. after he finished you just scoffed and headed to your room and tried to banish all thoughts of just how long wonwoo was

after that day wonwoo got more bold with you. made sleazy comments to you and found any reason to put his hands on you and even started to coo about how you made such a good little house wife for him. you always brushed him off, calling him disgusting, but you could feel your resolve breaking everytime he'd brush up against you on his way to the bathroom or casually grope at your breasts while you were making dinner

everything comes to a head when you go to make a bowl of rice and realize that there are no bowls left in your cupboard which means they're all hiding in wonwoo's nasty gamer cave he calls a bedroom. you sigh as you make your way to his room. you knock but there's no response. ugh he probably has his headphones on

"wonwoo-" you open the door to chew him out but stop when you see the sight in front of you. first off wonwoo's room is not as dirty as you expected, but there is a pile of bowls sitting next to his PC. that's not what has you stopped though

laying on his bed is wonwoo, jerking off again, but this time he has a pair of pink cotton panties held up to his nose as he takes deep breaths, hand rapidly pumping at his length. the panties in his hand are the same panties you just put in your hamper before you took a shower

"f-fuck y/n," wonwoo gasps, glancing to where you're standing. "smells so fucking good. want the real thing in my face too. think about you every night doing this."

his eyes are drooped and hazed with lust and his too long hair is pulled back into a ponytail that makes him look way too sexy for your own good

he brings the cloth down from his nose and wraps his around his hard cock. "i-if you're gonna just s-stand there, least you can do is h-help out."

that's when everything breaks and you're on his bed, hand wrapping around his own as you press your lips up against his. he tastes like stale energy drinks and its gross but also so intoxicating

"want your pussy," wonwoo growls against your mouth. his long, bony fingers plunge into your shorts and panties and touch your dripping slit. he smirks at you before inserting two fingers in right away and you gasp. "so fucking good. so wet and warm."

he only fingers you for a few moments before he's tearing off your clothes and pulling on to his lap

"be lucky i'm not forcing my dick down your throat," wonwoo says as he lines his dick up to your pussy

he sheathes himself up into you and you whine and clamp down on him as wonwoo groans

"shit y/n. always knew your cunt would be perfect. now take it like a good girl."

wonwoo fucks you hard and fast and there are tears spilling out of your eyes by the time he's cumming inside of you, filling you up with his sticky white semen. he doesnt stop there though and flips your bodies over and starts to rut into you again. not that you're complaining at all. his dick hits in you do deep and you ashamedly loved the way he stares at you like you're nothing but an object to use

wonwoo cums in you again, his hand around your throat, his mouth on your tits. you hate how much you love it. wonwoo is panting into the valley of our breasts as he pulls out of you

"always knew you were a dirty girl who wanted me," he purrs. "don't deny it doll. you didn't stop me this time and you aren't going to stop me next time."

and you know he's right, already desiring to do it again

wonwoo is still the worst roommate ever but at least now he can make up for it with his dick

[part 2]

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lixtokki · 3 years ago

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a bad rep

pairing: chan x reader (afab) word count: 2.8k rating: 18+ warnings: overstimulation(!!!!), biting, marking, fingering, some oral. a/n: the premise is you're a serial orgasm faker. chris takes it as a challenge.

clearly, your reputation precedes you.

word had spread around your friends that you’re a serial orgasm faker and now nobody wanted to play with you. not even your closest of friends, whom you’d occasionally fall into bed with if the mood struck. you roll your eyes, thinking maybe all your lovers past should simply be better at sex.

you enjoy fooling around with people, the kissing, the teasing touches, the hot and heavy cab ride home — but that, unfortunately, was your pinnacle. once these guys got you in bed and naked, it was absolutely futile. you felt bad, so you made all the right noises, you clenched just right and gripped the sheets below you; the big hurrah. then, you take a bow and finish yourself off quickly while the unnamed man snores next to you.

even your friends insisted that the problem couldn’t be every guy. and that it was just you, you’re stubborn and hard to please. and maybe they were right.

you’d gone some weeks now without sex, relying solely on your array of toys and, of course, your own trusty fingers. and, when your friends plan another late night get together at your favourite spot in itaewon, you attend with a pitiful slump on your shoulders.

it’s a fun night out regardless. you love your friends, but as the night draws to a close they can’t help but tease. despite the company of new people you’d somehow merged with during the night. the booth is full of fresh faces, most of them attractive and you hadn’t made a move, too scorned from one denied orgasm too many.

“can’t believe it’s 2am and y/n is still here.”

“don’t you have an orgasm to be faking somewhere?”

everyone laughs, you included. one of the new guys — you think his name is chris — cocks his head to the side, laughing with raised eyebrows. “orgasms to be faking?” he repeats, baffled.

you open your mouth to answer, but your best friend, felix, jumps in before you. “apparently she’s hard to please.” he says, rolling his eyes and nudging you in the ribs with his pointy elbow. “and the problem must be that all those guys suck. every last one of them.”

“is that right?” the supposed chris asks, looking directly at you with his tongue poking through his teeth. you meet his gaze… and immediately look away, a flash of warmth rushing over your face the instant your eyes meet. you can tell his eyes are still on you and that does nothing for the heat rising to your cheeks.

felix continues talking though, thank fuck, and that takes chris’ heavy gaze away from you long enough for you to regain composure. “yeah. she’s a nightmare, a serial orgasm faker.”

chris shrugs, “i dunno, i think i’m on her side.” he says, “a lot of guys just don’t know how to please a woman.” he clicks his tongue, cocky, obviously very sure of himself.

without thinking, you open your mouth, “oh and you do?” the glare chris shoots you convinces you that you made the right decision.

your fears are balled up and tossed out of the cab window — by none other than chris. nobody is surprised when you leave together, hands hungry to roam even as you’re still walking out of the bar together. the journey between the side of the road to your apartment was nothing but a hazy, neon coated blur; a mash of lips and teeth and restless hands tugging at a vanilla scented shirt.

this part was always your favourite, but thoughts of a disappointing finish were far, far from the front of your mind. chris took care of that; his deft hands, expert, just like his mouth.

he barely waits until you’re inside the apartment before he rips your shirt open, buttons scattering over the entranceway. he pushes you flush against the door once it closes, pressing his knee in between your thighs and groping your freshly exposed breasts. “so,” he breathes, forehead pressed to the door, “where is this hard to please girl i apparently went home with?” he dips his hand into your bra, tweaking one soft nipple to full hardness.

“oh i’m sure you’ll see her. later.” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around chris’ wide shoulders and dragging your crotch roughly against his thigh.

“yeah? sure about that?” chris murmurs, his lips teasing against your ear. before you can respond, in a surely snarky manner, he dips his teeth into your neck, favouring a spot just above your collarbones; he messily sucks your skin through his teeth with a force that promises to leave a mark.

you’re about to protest. something about people seeing. but chris’ teeth find another spot, closer to your jawline, and sink in, nipping and sucking at your skin until he’s sure a hickey is left for all to see. you moan, your insides clenching at the feeling of being marked; and, desperate for your hands to touch something, you comb your fingers through chris’ unruly, blonde hair.

“bedroom.” you say, suddenly hooking both legs around his waist. chris has no problems holding you up, even after you peel yourselves away from the front door. he carries you with ease, his hands cupped generously around your ass cheeks.

this was where things could go so wrong for you tonight. chris drops you atop the bed, taking in the view of you below him; sitting politely, your ripped shirt exposing your tits, the faux innocent look you watch him with. he breathes out a laugh. the gall of you. “don’t give me that look. like you don’t get fucked here every weekend.” attaching his fingers to your chin, he tilts your head upwards, examining your neck. he tuts. “do you let every guy that comes up here leave hickeys on your neck?”

“n-no…” you admit with a pout, refusing to break the eye contact. your response seems to ignite something in chris, he flashes a dangerous grin your way, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. the very contradiction of the sordid gaze he was watching you with.

“just me, yeah?” he asks, his voice gentle, quiet. hypnotising, almost.

“just you.”

those words were music to chris’ ears; placated, he slides his hand down from your jaw to your throat and he takes a firm hold of you. he balances you perfectly upon the line of pleasure and pain, watching as a faint, red tinge fills your cheeks. he dips to your level, pulling you in for a kiss, his pace getting off to a slow, heavenly start.

from there he guides you backwards onto the bed. he releases your neck in favour of unbuckling his belt and ridding himself of his shoes and jeans. he removes his shirt in record time, exposing his toned stomach and built chest to you; he definitely looked better than any guy you’d brought back here.

following suit, you wriggle out of your skirt and toss your own shirt to a forgotten corner of the room, suddenly so fucking aware of chris’ eyes on you. you ogle back, eyes hooded, inviting him in. you drag your gaze down his body, eyes landing curiously on the mass inside his boxers.

and when your eyes get too comfortable, chris suddenly climbs atop you, trapping you between his thighs, sheathed cock grazing your stomach. “wonder how many times i can make you cum in one night.” he brings your hand to his mouth and peppers kisses over your knuckles.

“you sound confident.” you respond, a humorous lilt to your voice. and chris laughs, loud, boisterous — it suits him.

“i’m pretty confident. considering you’ve already soaked your underwear.” he states, pressing a finger into your soaked panties. “oh my gosh. i’ve barely touched you.”

you toss your head to the side, embarrassed, defiant. but you have nothing to say in your defence. instead, you let your eyes flutter shut as chris’ fingers begin to rub you through your underwear, pressing hard on your clit, tugging a sultry gasp from your throat; your voice, unwilling to speak, unfolds for him in shaky moans. they tumble carelessly from you as chris slips two fingers into your underwear, finally touching your wetness, gliding through your folds, rubbing circles around your clit.

“why don’t we take these off?” comes his husky demand, disguised as nothing more than a translucent suggestion. he tugs the waistband down, down and off, quickly attaching his fingers to your pussy, like too much time had elapsed already.

he remains perched on top of you, merely enjoying the view of you coming undone underneath him. with two fingers, he dips to your entrance, chuckling when you clench in preparation for penetration that never comes.

“come on, already?” he tuts, moving his fingers back to your clit, “wanna play with you more.” then, he promptly dives downward, aiming for your chest; fingers still working you slowly while his mouth plants messy kisses all over your breasts. he bites at the supple skin above your tits, sucking enough to leave a mark — then he finds a blank spot and repeats, repeats until your entire chest is littered in smatters of red and purple. your fingers find his hair again, weaving through his curls, gripping him, pulling him closer, arching your back up, melding your bodies together. at the very least, this round of hickeys are easily concealed.

chris relents, satisfied with his work. he pulls back, admiring your chest. now, his fingers lackadaisically play with your pussy, stroking you gently, in no particular rhythm. “how you holding up down there?” he asks, like he’s asking a friend how their fucking day is going.

“fine. just fine.” you attempt nonchalance. either way chris beats you at your own game.

his pace picks up all of a sudden, two fingers hungrily sliding inside you, curving into your form like a perfect fit; an unexpected shriek escapes you, sharp and genuine. you don’t have to open your eyes to know chris is sporting the smuggest grin on his face.

“just fine, yeah?” he asks, not waiting for an answer and pounding his fingers straight against your g-spot again. wanting to fill his ears with the sound of you completely losing it.

you clench around him, gripping the bedsheets underneath you — because if you kept at his hair, he probably wouldn’t have any left. you desperately try to conceal how close you are already but chris seems to always be one step ahead of you. “no way are you close already.” he eyes you suspiciously, stuffing a third finger into your pussy. “if you’re faking this, you’re a pretty good fucking actress.”

undeniably, that feeling pooling in your stomach and between your legs was that sweet climax you’d been chasing for so long now. it was so close. so close. you reach down, grappling furiously for chris’ spare hand until you can thread your fingers together, clinging to him for dear life.

then. a white flash takes over your vision, you arch your back, throwing your head backwards into the plush sheets below, letting the euphoric wave flood your entire body. you rock your hips frantically against chris’ hand, riding out this orgasm for as long as you possibly can.

when the room stops spinning and your thrusts have slowed to a leisurely pace against, chris leans in close to you, “one.” he says.

you open your eyes with intent to question him but. suddenly you’re overcome as he starts fucking his fingers into your cunt again, relentless. you cry out, stumbling towards another orgasm at full speed. chris shimmies down the bed and when you wrench your eyes open to see why, you’re met with the view of his mouth hovering inches away from your pussy.

“oh fuck— i’m so. i’m so sensitive,” you whine as he takes a cautionary lick at your clit. it felt like fire shooting through all your veins, exiting out of your mouth in the most frenzied of pleasured screams.

chris only hums against your heat, wrapping his lips around your swollen little clit and flicking his tongue over it, pressing you like a button.

your breaths fall ragged now, tired as you hurtle towards your next orgasm; your moans turn into whingeing whines and all you can do is repeatedly tell chris how sensitive you are while he shows no signs of listening, rutting his fingers into you and lapping at your pussy with full lips and a swift tongue.

orgasm #2 hits you like a train. you seize chris’ face with your thighs, trapping him in place as you thrust your cunt against his mouth. the shrieks that leave your mouth will surely reach ears further than chris, but you’re too far gone to give a shit. overstimulated, your voice shakes out the remnants of the orgasm and your body trembles against the aftershocks. chris removes his fingers, dutifully shoving them in his mouth and cleaning himself up.

“two.” he says, once he’s done tasting you on his fingers. with your eyes closed, you don’t see his hands dipping to his erection, still hidden in his boxers. he palms himself through the fabric, hovering over you, breathing in the scent you leave behind after an orgasm. “what to do with you next?” he ponders aloud, successfully garnering your attention.

“i— i…” your eyes open, met with his gaze, dark and inviting. you glance down to see his hand busy with his cock and you moan at the mere sight. “sensitive.” you whimper. but the bulge under those boxers can’t help but pique your interest.

chris is quick to tug his underwear down, releasing his cock from its confines. he looks at you, then to his cock, then back at you. “too sensitive for my cock?”

“no!” you cry out, devastated at the thought of not being full to the brim of his thick shaft, “please. again.”

too horny to tease you further, chris relents, hooking one of your thighs around his waist and lining himself up with your hole. he slaps his cock against your clit, just once, testing your sensitivity — you tremor in response, moaning in wobbly falsetto. chris seems pleased enough, immediately pushing the head of his cock inside you, wincing as your walls clench around him. you’re so tight. he has to edge his way carefully through your cunt, coercing your pussy around his cock.

“fucking hell, you’re tight.” chris grunts through gritted teeth, putting all of his strength into holding himself back from fucking you absolutely raw.

when he’s fully buried inside you, all he can do is hold himself still, your tightness driving him fucking crazy. he’s barely even noticed the fucked out mess you’re becoming below him.

“so full. so close.” you whine, wrapping your arms around chris’ chest, bringing him flush against your own, feeling his ragged breaths push against your breasts. “wanna cum again.”

“you wanna cum around my cock, yeah?“ chris says, his voice strained as he holds back his own moans, “can you even handle cumming again?”

the answer is no, you’re about one hard thrust away from completely falling apart. but you nod your head, yes, yes, yes. you want, need more of him. “yeah. can. please fuck me.”

needing no more instruction, chris pulls out entirely before ramming inside you again. the feeling of your tight cunt spasming around him has him moaning loud and unabashedly into your ear. “shit. shit. shit.” his sentences quickly ebb into unintelligible curses. “so. fucking. tight.”

he repeats. pulling out before bucking his hips into you harshly. and again. again. his thrusts are messy, uncontrolled. you feel so fucking good around him that he can barely see. together, you attempt to fuck to any sort of rhythm, but you are too fucked out to move and he’s too pussy dumb to think.

you jut together like mismatched puzzle pieces, occasionally clicking together before snapping out of place. your cunt throbs from overexertion and yet you’re chasing another orgasm with chris’ following close behind.

“chris. i’m gonna cum.” you wail, hooking both of your legs around him with a vice grip.

“me. too. fuck.” chris growls, letting his face fall next to yours, fucking you relentlessly, “where do you want me?”

“on me. anywheeeere—“ your sentence stutters into a choked moan as your orgasm hits you full force in the face, with chris still fucking you, vaulting you over the precipice and into a new realm of pleasure.

your body writhes uncontrollably under the pressure of another core shaking orgasm and, suddenly, chris pulls out, spilling himself all over your cunt. he grits his teeth and lets out an almighty shriek into the mattress below, his body falling limp against yours.

“three,” he pants, lazily kissing your neck, “and to think i’m not even nearly finished.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan smut #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz smut #mine #cham

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