#slowly I’m getting the hang of drawing him

[lumilasi]

A scene from TVE I decided I really wanted to try drawing, which proved tricky because I wasn't sure how the floor of the Spire would actually look? I decided the pool room has sort of sand on it, although I don't mention it in the actual scene. I'm still slowly getting a hang of how to draw these 2. (scene sneak peek below):

"Jayce.”

He cracks his eyes open, looking up at Viktor who was still staring at his feet, a small frown still marring his features.

"What is it?”

"…..Can you tell me exactly, why we are here?”

"Aww, can’t we wait till after the bath? It’s so nice.”

Viktor huffs out a sigh and finally dares to look up, Jayce not missing the way his face gained some color, though one could claim it was the steam from the hot spring. Gods he was gorgeous, and Jayce wanted nothing more but to cross the distance between them just to rest his head on his lap again, so he could look up at his pretty eyes.

"….Jayce. You….do realize that since I have a piece of your soul within me, I can tell when you are being needlessly saccharine.”

Viktor comments dryly all of a sudden, and Jayce hides his face in embarrassment, letting out a sheepish laugh as his face flashes red. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty or bad about it, he was just being honest. For a moment, the golden eyes stare at him from across the pond unimpressed, before Viktor let’s out a huffing sigh, shaking his head with a fond smile.

"You are hopeless sometimes, Jayce Talis.”

"Only sometimes?”

"Most of the time. I’m trying to be nice here.”

"It doesn’t suit you, being too nice.”

"You’re right; please stop giving me cavities, your thoughts probably put the sickly sweetest romance novellas to shame. I already have back and leg problems, I don’t need to add constant toothache atop of it all.”

Jayce let’s out another laugh, before moving to swim across the lake, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s frame in a moment of boldness, Viktor’s entire body freezing for a second before he prods his forehead with a finger, face flushed even more now.

"I’m not your bathtoy.”

"I’m just making sure you don’t get too cold, sitting up there. The water’s much warmer.”

"Warm steam is rising from this magical hot spring, I’m fine sitting right here.”

Jayce let’s out another laugh, before sighing slowly and resting his head on Viktor’s lap now, feeling the weight of what he had to tell him start to settle on his shoulders again. Perhaps Viktor could sense it through his soul piece, as after a moment hesitant fingers start carding his hair, with Viktor no longer trying to get him to move away. Jayce remains silent for a long moment, stalling a little, perhaps, but he knew he had to tell Viktor, he deserved to know.

"…..I…..we….something went wrong.”

"What?”

"The…we didn’t manage to eradicate it all. Something got left behind. The two gods of this realm, their job is to monitor things like this. They noticed.”

He could tell Viktor was stunned speechless, the hand in his hair stopping, the entire body he was clinging to going stiff with shock. Jayce bites his lip, briefly pressing his face against the pale skin of Viktor’s thigh peeking out from beneath the robes to breathe in, gathering himself.

He proceeds to describe what Janus had told him weeks ago, about the leftover timelines, the unstable state they had been left in, and how effects from those verses were bleeding into other ones. He couldn’t bring himself to mention, that the reason this happened was likely because of Viktor’s own subconscious doubts, but he likely didn’t need to. Viktor releases a shaky breath, the hand briefly leaving him as he could tell his partner was now burying his face in his hands, trembling lightly against him. Jayce squeezes him gently, his fingers subtly stroking his lower back through the canvas of his robe.

"….Of course. Of course.”

That was all Viktor could say, frustration and self-loathing bitterness evident in his voice. Jayce just remains resting there, waiting silently for Viktor to process it all, hopefully finding comfort in the warm weight against him.

[mizzstromalarkey]

Mizzstro’s Memory

-Balan Wonderworld Oneshot-

-

“Run that by me one more time.”

Mizzstro’s words are tense. His short fur stands on end, a glistening platinum white under the stage lights of the otherwise dark theatre.

Balan exhales and gathers himself.

“As Wonderworld’s maestro, it is my role to conduct the memories of inhabitants so that they may rekindle balance within their hearts—“

“Right. Less poise, Balan. I don’t know who you’re trying to impress here.”

“—erm…but…without a proper stage, I’ve yet been able to draw your memories forth…”

Balan then gestures to the stage Mizzstro is lounging back on.

“…That is, until now. I have an idea. A work-around, if you will. Provided you would let me try.” Balan’s wide grin then softens. “I will not force you to do this, Mizzstro, but… you should consider my help.”

The jester beast hunches over his lap with a long sigh. He brushes his claws through the messy bangs of parted fur around his mask. He doesn’t look at Balan.

“You know how I feel about someone digging around in there.”

The maestro’s brow furrows.

“I’m only conducting your memories—guiding you through so I can help determine what ails your heart. I can see them, I suppose, but you will be the star of your own show.”

“Psh, you think I don’t know why I’m like this? I’m the conductor of psycho-analyzing myself, Bal.”

Colorful gem drops appear around him. Mizzstro simply pushes them aside with his tail. The annoying things always get in the way. Balan stiffens at the sight.

“I know you’re hurting, Mizzstro. I can—“

“You can what? Watch from the background as I relive all the shitty things that’ve happened to me?” Mizzstro’s claws dig into the floorboards. “If my issues were as simple as…as getting over a fear of dolphins, or just having goddamn art block then don’t you think I would have told you by now?”

Balan huffs like the beast struck a chord. “You would have never told me regardless because you fear being vulnerable with others.”

“Well, look who’s breaking out their Masters in Psychology. Should I pay that $75 cash or card?”

“Do you use this witty persona to deflect all the negativity surrounding you?”

Mizzstro chokes on his words. In one swift movement he tears into a frustrated shout, flicks his tail with a charge, then teleports across the stage. The green flash blinks through the theatre’s shifting main room. For a moment, rows and rows of empty seats stare back at Mizzstro. He searches the darkness for their lingering image.

With an uneasy sigh, Mizzstro strolls to the edge of the stage then slumps down against the wall.

“…don’t forget to add my recklessly charming personality to the analysis as well, doc.”

Mizzstro chuckles. Balan doesn’t react, much to the jester’s awkward disappointment.

He looks so small, Balan realizes, crouched against the wall with his knees now tucked tightly against him. He grips himself so hard his claws dig into the fur of his upper arms. His tail curls around his ankles, the sharp star tip still poised to strike.

Balan approaches anyway, though gingerly, floating over to little beast. Mizzstro flicks his tail at Balan’s presence but doesn’t stop him from planting down on the floor beside him.

“Putting on the jester hat, hell, the whole mask…and being everyone’s favorite little shithead…sometimes that’s easier. I can control that.”

Mizzstro hurries to wipe the moisture building in his eyes.

“You’re asking me to process things I’m still trying to understand. I’m not even human anymore, Balan.”

Mizzstro’s words hang between them.

“So, I’d rather put back on the costume cause that’s the only way I can get through this shit, even if it hurts just as bad.”

Balan tenses but finds himself nodding slowly.

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to share this, Mizzstro.”

He squirms at Balan’s words but can’t hide a small grin curling.

“Yeah, well… don’t get used to it. Just give me my heart piece therapy badge and I’ll be on my way.”

Balan searches the jester beast’s face. Mizzstro finally turns to look at him, even if just slightly.

“What?”

“Your heart is still imbalanced and missing, I fear. Do you trust me enough to let me help you?”

Balan reaches out for a moment to comfort him before pausing. Mizzstro flinches at the approach—Balan recoiling. Mizzstro shifts and stares back to the ground, his otherwise lively lilac and green eyes glazed over. His tail taps at the ground.

“It’s not…it’s not that I don’t. I just don’t have much of a choice.”

“Without your heart rebalanced, Mizzstro, you may never leave Wonderworld—“

The beast tenses, “—you think I don’t know that, Bal?”

“Please, allow me to help you…” The maestro’s voice strains with desperation, a rare falter of his grace. “I owe it to you to try.”

Mizzstro wipes his eyes again. He can’t cry in front of Balan, not like this.

“If you knew what you were looking for in my head, then you wouldn’t be asking to go digging. You won’t… you won’t see me the same after. I’m not the same.”

Balan floats to the ground.

“I…regret…that Wonderworld has taken your humanity from you.”

Mizzstro stares off, muttering, “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first…”

Balan sinks. Negativity radiates from the false maestro, even as just a glimpse behind the mask.

“The pain you’re in is too much for you to handle alone. If you truly want to leave, let me help you in the best way I know how. I won’t give up trying,” Balan slowly offers his hand out to Mizzstro, “and I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”

Mizzstro’s ears droop. He looks up at Balan’s hand, then to the maestro himself.

“Even if you vandalize the theatre and terrorize Wonderworld,” Balan chuckles. He gives an awkward shrug.

A small smile creeps across the jester’s mask, but its warmth is real. Uncurling himself, he exhales a long, loud sigh, and grabs hold of Balan’s offered hand.

“You’re frustratingly good at this shit, you know that?” Mizzstro chuckles. “Alright. Show me whatever therapy parlor trick you wanna try now.”

[teeth-farie]

Get kissed IDIOT

Full over here!

[javierduffy]

sketchbook sillies

[leodoodlesstuff]

Fragments 🩸

[arolesbianism]

Hashtag anger issues moment

[classyrbf]

VOICEMAIL! — GOJO SATORU

bf!gojo who misses his baby so dearly while he’s away on a mission. He’s thinking about you all day, missing you voice and your touch. He’s always talking about you to his colleagues because he loves you so much that he can’t stand being this far from you. So it’s no surprise when he’s back in his hotel room, scrolling through your photos in his camera roll while his dick strains against his sweats. He’s rubbing himself through the fabric, biting on his plump lip as he stares at your innocent pictures. He get so pent up, scrambling to pull his sweats down, right hand gripping the base of his dick while his left hand hold the phone. He’s whining for you, dick throbbing and his swollen tip leaking pre cum.

He decides he can’t take it anymore and presses a few buttons to call you. With the phone to his ear, he prays that you pick up, wanting to hear your pretty voice. “Mmph, please pick up, baby,” he whimpers. His brows furrow when he glides his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a little tighter when he reaches the tip. Eventually, it goes to voicemail and Gojo figures you’re sleeping, but he decides to leave a message for you anyway.

“H-hey, pretty girl—mmph—just wanted to let you know how much I miss you,” he slightly pants, chest heaving up and down. His hips buck up into his hand, eyes squeezing shut. “Miss you so fucking much, thinking about you got me hard, you know that? F-fuck, baby.” His breath hitches. His hand moves faster, the wet noises echoing through the hotel room. “Can’t stop thinking about you—ah, fuck,” he moans. “I want you feel what you fucking do to me, baby,” he groans when he runs his thumb over his slit, gathering more pre cum.

His eyes roll back, jerking his dick faster as his abs tense up. “I, uh, wanted to call to check on you, but I know—mmmph—I know you’re probably sleeping,” he moans through his words. “I love you, okay? I…love you, baby. So fucking much.” He sounds so desperate, voice cracking with each whimper. “Just…call me when you wake up, please, baby? I need to hear your voice.” His body shivers and his abs tense up the faster he goes.

His eyes flutter shut and his jaw goes slack, imagining fucking you into mattress while you scream his name, thinking about the way your pussy grips him so tight. “I need you here right now. Need you so fucking bad you don’t understand,” he breathily chuckles. “I—fuck—such a fucking mess, all because of you,” he whines. “I’m sorry, baby…s-shit…I can’t stop.” His hips roll into the bed as he grows closer to his orgasm. “I’m gonna fucking cum just thinking about you, looking at your pictures…my god.” He opens his eyes, fixated on the way he’s jerking his dick, wishing it was you doing it instead.

“Fuck, fuck, yeah. Oh my god,” he whimpers, voice growing higher, his breathing sporadic. “Baby, baby…I’m gonna…I’m gonna fucking cum. Oh, shit, I’m fucking cumming, I’m cumming!” His hips twitch as spurts of his cum shoot from his swollen tip, landing on his hands and stomach. “Fucckkk!” He grunts, tossing his head back. “Yes, yes,” he moans loudly, drawing out his orgasm. He breaths heavily, slowly stroking himself as he comes down from his high.

Few seconds of silence goes by before he speaks, “see how much I miss you? Call me as soon as you hear this. Goodnight, pretty girl. I love you.” He kisses the phone before hanging up, left laying there in his mess.

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3

it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.

but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.

the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.

you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.

“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.

“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.

“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.

“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.

“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.

“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.

“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.

“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.

“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.

“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.

“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[fleurre]

CRAVING ATTENTION ⊹ ﹒ 엔하이픈

the things they do when they want your attention

ft. enha x f!r genre fluff, est rel, pouty and clingy boys warnings pda, kissing, slight jealousy, mentions of drinking and partying in hee’s one ( 1506 )

suki’s note .. i will be travelling this week so here's a cute fic before i go, feedback is much appreciated >ᴗ<

LEE HEESEUNG

he has been watching you from a distance for the past few minutes, staring in a trance as you talked and laughed with your friends.

maybe it was the alcohol in his system acting up, but he couldn’t stop the flutter in his chest when he saw a smile gracing your lips. he knew it was selfish of him to want to pull you away from your friends, and kiss you until the makeup you spent hours perfecting becomes smudged all over.

but his legs seemed to work on their own accord, and he found himself making his way over to you through the crowd.

he swung an arm around your shoulder when he reached you, making you stumble backwards, straight into his arms. “sorry ladies.” he said to your friends, but the smile on his face was anything but apologetic.

before you could react, he had already turned around, whisking you away from your friends.

“hee?” your brows were furrowed as you tried to decipher his actions. reaching up to hold his hand that was hanging on your shoulder. “what’s wrong?”

he tilted your chin up with his hand, “nothing.” he murmured, leaning down into you. he was so close that even under the dim lighting of the party, you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“i just wanted the attention of the most gorgeous person in the room.” 

PARK JONGSEONG

“what are you doing?” jay grumbled, his voice raspy from having just woken up.

it was endearing to see him in this state, his hair slightly tousled from his sleep, with a yawn escaping his lips. “what does it look like?” you looked up with a small smile, before turning your attention back to the stove in front of you. “i’m making us breakfast.”

you had expected a different reaction from your boyfriend, one where he wasn't frowning and sulking at the sight of you cooking, trying to surprise him with a breakfast in bed.

just as you were about to ask him why he seemed to be in such a bad mood, jay made his way over to you. without a single word, his arms wrapped around you from the back, his face resting on your shoulder as he leaned into you.

“don’t do that again.” he mumbled, his arms tightened around your waist.

you turned to him, tilting your head in confusion. “don’t ... make you breakfast?”

“don’t make me wake up to an empty bed.” he said quietly, burying his face into your neck. “you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

SIM JAEYUN

he was leaning his head on your shoulder as you chatted away with your friend on the phone.

one of his hands was intertwined with yours, the other drawing circles on your arm absentmindedly. he didn’t care that his arm was starting to feel numb from how long you had been resting against it, but he was starting to sulk from the lack of attention he was getting.

“babe.” he lifted his head, resting his chin on top of your shoulder in hopes of getting your attention.

you didn’t reply, opting to give his hand a light squeeze before continuing your conversation with your friend.

“babe?” he tried again, and this time, he leaned over you, one hand reaching over to the other side of the couch, trapping you in his arms. his bottom lip stuck out in a feeble complaint, staring straight at you with a frown.

you finally pulled the phone away from your face, smiling a little as you squished his cheeks together. “what’s with the pout?” you asked with an amused laugh.

“it’s nothing.” jake’s shoulders sagged in defeat, burying his face into your shoulder. you’ve been dating him for long enough to know that he was sulking, so you slowly ran your hand through his hair. “give me five more minutes.”

jake looked up at you, a grin now plastered on his face, “promise?”

you nodded, kissing the tip of his nose. “promise.”

PARK SUNGHOON

your online meeting has been extended for an hour, and sunghoon was getting more and more restless by the second.

he initially thought that he could have you all to himself for the rest of the day, only for your stupid meeting to run overtime. not to mention, he had already used up all his valid excuses to bother you in hopes of getting just a fraction of your attention: brewing you a cup of tea, handing you pens and paper that you didn’t even need, and even trying to clean your desk while you worked.

and now he was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he stared daggers into the pixelated video of your boss, who was soaking up all your attention that should have been on him.

making up his mind, he walked back over to you, making sure to stay out of frame. he sat down on the floor beside your chair, resting his head against your thigh.

you looked down in surprise, and you had to suppress a laugh when you saw him huddled up next to you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. biting your lip to hide your smile, you reached down, intertwining your hand with his.

sunghoon hummed in satisfaction. maybe this wasn’t that bad after all.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo thinks he might be cursed.

the rare day that he has no scheduled events, is the very same day you had a full day of work.

he was already in a grumpy mood when he woke up to an empty apartment, though the cute note you left on the fridge did make him smile a little, he soon became bored out of his mind.

it was as if time was passing by agonisingly slowly, tormenting him.

he texted you so much during the day that you had to mute his notifications so you wouldn’t get distracted during a meeting. and when the front door finally opened, signalling your arrival home, he hugged you so tightly if knocked the air out of your lungs.

“sunoo!” you groaned after he practically collided into you.

“you not allowed to go anywhere.” he huffed out, his voice muffled by your shirt.

you held onto him, needing to waddle like a penguin to get into your house. “sorry, babe.” you whispered, cupping his face and kissing him lightly.

he still stared at you with an unhappy frown, but all it took was another kiss for a smile to return to his face.

“we’re cuddling all night long.”

you hummed in acceptance. “all night long.”

YANG JUNGWON

you had been studying all afternoon for your upcoming exams, and being the supportive boyfriend he is, jungwon had been checking up on you from time to time, cutting up fruits for you and refilling your water bottle.

he didn’t want to distract you when you were focused, and he knew how important the exams were to you. but he felt his self-restraint crumble slowly, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms, and to feel the comforting warmth of your touch.

so when you kissed him on the cheek to thank him for refilling your water again, he took the opportunity. his hand reached for your jaw, turning you back to him and pressing his lips against yours.

“wonie!” you laughed as you broke away, hitting him on the chest lightly.

he smiled in satisfaction, his lips still ghosting yours, wanting more.

“you need a break.” he murmured before pulling you in for yet another kiss, smiling against your lips when he felt you give in, your hands reaching up to cup his cheek.

“come on, you deserve a break.” he urged softly, tugging your arm to pull you away from your desk and into his arms. “let’s watch that show you wanted to watch.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“riki! stop!” you laughed, trying to push your much larger boyfriend away from you to no avail.

“nu-uh.” he shook his head, refusing to move an inch as he laid on top of you. he pried the remote control away from your hand and tossed it to the other side of the couch. “you've been watching that drama all day long.”

you pouted at him. “i'm almost done!”

“why obsess over a drama when you have a real, handsome boyfriend right here?” he asked, hoping you wouldn't notice the slight whine in his voice.

you chuckled, brushing his fringe away from his eyes. “i never said you weren't handsome.”

riki squinted at you, “so, do you think i'm more handsome than them?”

“of course!”

your immediate response and the sincerity in your voice took him by surprise, and the tips of his ears turned a light shade of red as he looked away.

“are you getting shy?” you teased.

“no.” he interjects quickly, though the redness that now spread to his cheeks begged to differ.

[nicka-nell]

How they act when they have a crush on you

Pairing: Atsumu x, Suna x, Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Daichi x, Hinata x, Iwaizumi x, Oikawa x reader

Warning: fluff, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 (end)

A total bully. Constantly in teasing mode.

Whether it’s in class and he throws little paper balls at your head, pulls your hair while you’re tying your shoes in the gym, or “borrows” your homework to copy it and give you your notebook back with a scrabbly drawing next to your exercises.

Atsumu takes every free opportunity to pick on you, thinking that you take it as a form of pleasant affection.

You’re chatting with some friends in sports class when you get hit in the back of the head with a ball. It wasn’t a powerful throw. In fact, you barely felt it, but you know immediately who the ball came from when you turn around with a grim expression and see the wide-grinning blond Miya brother running towards you. “Sorry sweetheart. But ya were standing in my throwing lane.” he grins and picks up the ball. Oh, how you’d love to hit him in the face with the ball.

After school you just want to go home, the umbrella is already open as it is pouring like hell, when you feel two strong hands snatching the umbrella from your hands. “Hey sweetheart, I’m sure ya won’t have a problem if I borrow the umbrella, will ya?” Atsumu smirks at you again, already holding the umbrella in his hands so that he doesn’t get wet. You’re next to him, but half your body still gets wet as you try to take the umbrella away from him. “Hey, I’m a damn superb athlete. Can’t risk it to get sick,” he complains, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him so that you don’t get completely wet. You walk home together for quite a while until Atsumu leads in the opposite direction to his own home. With your umbrella, of course. You can prepare yourself to arrive home soaked and chilled. Awesome.

Atsumu would never think of telling you that he has a crush on you. He assumes that you already know this and that you also have feelings for him, but are too shy to tell him.

When a guy invited you out for ice cream and you agreed, Atsumu complained to Osamu. Osamu first had to make it clear to him that you two are definitely not a couple and that you certainly don’t assume that he has feelings for you, because Atsumu is also just an asshole towards you.

Atsumu interrupts you sulking while you’re eating ice cream with the guy, completely ignores this dude and tells you that you shouldn’t eat ice cream with other guys because he likes you and it annoys him when you do things with other guys who aren’t him.

Suna is probably more of a secret, very laid-back admirer who takes things rather slowly.

He doesn’t behave any differently towards you in everyday life. That’s why it’s not obvious to outsiders that he has feelings for you. Even for you.

You’re in the same circle of friends. He’s not particularly jealous when you talk to other men. Possibly also because he knows exactly what he has to offer and is convinced of himself to a healthy degree.

But after a while, you notice that he’s more interested in you. He always likes your pictures on social media. Sometimes he comments on them with emojis. A fiery heart, or a smiley looking mischievously to the side, or even a smiley with heart eyes. Sometimes he also speaks to you directly about your pictures.

Rarely does he tease you.

“Saw your picture yesterday. Looked good,” he says calmly, his legs up against the wall as he lies on his back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it as he looks at his phone in his hands. You’re sitting on the floor with your back against his bed, still finishing up a few things for your group work for school, when you look sideways at him. “Thank you, that was with Tsumu. We played CoD,” you answer him. “A game date?” he replies with an almost arrogant look, still scanning you from his casual position as you shake your head and roll your eyes. Suna wouldn’t admit it, but deep down, he’s glad you denied his question.

Your free classes are for learning. But sometimes you use them to just relax, chat or do nothing. While one or two of you are studying in the school's common room, you approach Suna, who is sitting on a bench with Atsumu and Osamu. Both boys are looking at Suna’s phone, who’s playing a game, when you approach him and ask curiously what he’s doing. All three boys look at you before Suna grabs your hand and casually pulls you onto his lap while resting his head on your shoulder. His hands are around your waist while his phone is in his hands in front of you. “It’s a new mobile game that came out. It’s based on a webtoon,” he answers, still focused on his phone.

Suna would probably confess his feelings to you first. However, his confession is rather spontaneous.

For example, in a store when you buy some fruit sticks on the way back home and he also pays for your stick. Outside, you tell him that he didn’t have to do that and that you can pay for it yourself, but out of the blue, he just tells you that he did it because he likes you. “So what does it matter? I did it because I like you. So bad?”

Like Atsumu, Kuroo is someone who would tease you to get your attention. But not in that childish way with paper balls in your hair.

But at the same time, Kuroo would also help you and is very attentive.

In sports class, you are currently learning the basics of basketball - how to dribble, make a lay-up and so on - before your sports teacher tells you to practice on your own for the next 30 minutes. Kuroo grins at you and throws you the ball. “Do you think you can beat me in a one-on-one?” he smirks, knowing full well that you can’t. Nevertheless, you accept his challenge, start to play and quickly lose the ball. “You need to be less stiff. Try to move with the ball. And... try to keep the ball at about waist height when you dribble,” Kuroo says as he dribbles past you to make a smooth 3-pointer. 

You’re sitting on a bench in the shadows during your break. It’s a hot summer day and you just want to get somewhere where there’s air conditioning. “You should drink more. It’s pretty hot today and you’re not an oryx antelope that can go without water for long,” says Kuroo, who suddenly stands next to you at the bench and holds out a small bottle of water.

He always acts so tough around others, but he cares about the people who are important to him.

Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Probably not, but at some point you would notice it yourself and ask him casually. 

If you asked him about it, he’d start off by rambling and beating around the bush, but then eventually admit to having feelings for you.

Ushijima would probably behave the same way towards you as he usually does. At least that’s what he thinks.

But you can actually see him looking in your direction from time to time and subconsciously observing you.

He also subconsciously thinks of you, asking Tendou, for example, whether he could imagine that you might also like certain things.

In class, you are all already in the classroom waiting for the teacher, while you talk to Semi about the new shop next to the school and Tendou tries to tell Ushijima about the latest manga he has read. Tendou quickly realizes that Ushijima isn’t paying any attention to him, but that his gaze is instead wandering toward you and Semi. “Wakatoshi? Were you even listening to me?” Ushijima barely visibly flinches, noticing that his thoughts were somewhere else when he looks over at Tendou again. “Can you lend me the magazine? They always have such interesting promotions on the last page,” he says, completely forgotten that his attention was still on you earlier. Unlike Tendou, who purses his lips and narrows his eyes.

“Uhhh, tell me, did you watch the new K-Drama series? The one with the lawyers and the forensic scientist? Mmmh, the lawyer’s secretary is sooo cute!” Tendou chants as he walks with Ushijima towards the gym for training. “No. Do you think Y/n would like the series? She likes watching these things, doesn’t she?” Ushijima asks dryly, not realizing that he’s only thinking about you again. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you two should watch the series,” Tendou replies, hoping to finally get a little more out of Ushijima, but he doesn’t respond to his statement anymore.

It would take so long for Ushijima to realize that he has feelings for you. Whether he finds out on his own, because he realizes that this rapid heartbeat is not because of his “suddenly worsening condition”, or because Tendou gives him a few clues to think about his feelings for you.

However, Ushijima would tell you as soon as he recognized it for himself. But not with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner.

No, he would simply ask you at the next opportunity, if you were interested in him, because he is pretty sure that his interest in you goes beyond friendship. Not caring if you were alone or around friends during his confession.

Sawamura is a little gentleman. He would show his kind of affection through small things. The typical “act of kindness”.

Whether it’s opening the door, holding your school bag while you put on your jacket, or simply walking home together, even if it means a ten-minute diversions for him.

“Ah damn...” you curse quietly as you sit in your seat in the classroom and realise that you’ve forgotten your pencil case at home. “Dai-“ you’re turning around to ask Sawamura if he can lend you a pencil only to see him holding one out to you already, with a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” You whisper quietly and turn back to the front.

You’re on your way home after a pretty exhausting day at school. All of you stayed a little longer in the school library today to study for your final exams. So it’s already dark when you go home and you’re upset about not bringing a jacket. “Here. Next time you should remember to pack something warm. You never know when it might rain and the temperature could drop,” Sawamura says calmly, holding out the jacket he wears for volleyball training. He himself is still wearing his school uniform jacket. After all, he doesn’t want to catch a cold. You gratefully accept the sports jacket and put it over your shoulders. Sawamura wouldn’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you forgot your jacket next time as well, and wore his instead, because seeing you in his way too big jacket somehow makes his heart beat faster.

Sawamura would think long and hard about whether to confess his feelings to you, because he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship between you. But in the end, he would be the one to confess his feelings to you first, in the hope that you would return them.

Unlike Ushijima, however, he would do it at a moment that suits him. For example, when the two of you are alone, on the way home together, in a quiet and laid-back environment and a relaxed atmosphere.

Hinata is so clumsy and although he tries to hide his feelings a little bit and keep them under control, even a blind man would understand how much he has a crush on you.

As soon as you enter the room, he gets all nervous and his vocabulary suddenly shrinks so much that it feels like it only consists of 30 words.

Even if Hinata appeared nervous towards you, he would never be someone who would tease you or have a cheeky remark on his lips. Nor would he ignore you. He would also be the cheerful and friendly whirlwind towards you, just a little awkward. He would try to support you, even if it was just carrying the bench in the gym together with you.

“H-hi,” Hinata stutters and turns away, glowing red in the face, as you smile at him and greet him too. “I’ve brought water for myself,” he says with a smile and holds out a water bottle to you. You give him an irritated look, but then giggle. “For you? Yes, that’s nice, but why are you giving it to me?” you ask and notice Hinata blushing again. He’s probably embarrassed right now. But you think it’s cute. “Eh, I mean for you. You. I’ve got my bottle here! See? It’s even full!” he says and reaches for the bottle in the side of his bag, wanting to shake it to show you that it’s full. But instead, he presses down on the bottle and splashes the water on his face. You giggle, but reach into your own gym bag and pull out a small towel to put on Hinata’s wet head so he can dry off. A gesture that is probably too much for his nerves right now.

Tired after his hard and long volleyball training with Kageyama, Hinata is just about to get on his bike and ride home when he sees you sitting at the bus stop in the dark. A little confused, he asks you what you are still doing here at this time of night when you tell him that you missed your bus."Then come on, I’ll drive you home!" he says with a cheerful smile and you don’t even have the chance to say no. Because you’re already sitting on the front of his handlebars while he pedals his bike and takes you home. He doesn’t seem to care that you live in the opposite direction to him and that it will take him even longer to get home, thanks to you. “Hold on tight, the Shouyou taxi is fast as lightning,” he says with a grin and drives you home.

With Hinata, it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether he confesses his feelings to you or not. Either he confesses them to you, but then because he babbles and the words just fall out of him with nervousness, or you tell him at some point that you have feelings for him.

If you are the one who confesses his feelings first, you can literally watch a fuse burn out in his head and how he is completely overwhelmed until he realizes what you have just told him.

Iwaizumi is similar to Sawamura. He would also shine through his act of kindness. Even if he would try to hide it coolly.

However, Iwaizumi also has a protective and slightly jealous side, especially when Oikawa gets the idea to flirt with you. He doesn’t like it when you feel uncomfortable or when other guys get too close to you.

“You shouldn’t carry such heavy things. You’ll damage your back,” Iwaizumi grumbles, before taking the bag with all the water bottles for the volleyball team from you and hanging it over his shoulder. “Hajime... I’m not five anymore... I can carry the bag by myself.” You answer him with a sigh. He’s a bit like your mum... far too caring. The only thing missing now is that he shouts after you in the morning to always bring a jacket so that you don’t freeze in the summer when it’s thirty degrees… “Never mind, I’ll carry the bag now...” he replies casually and turns his head away from you, but the tips of his reddish ears betray his coolness.

“Uuuhh my favorite manager is back” grins Oikawa, who runs up to you and hugs you as if you were best friends, but quickly lets go of you when he is hit in the back of the head with a ball. “Hey Shittykawa, leave her alone. We’re here to train, not to flirt with women. Especially not with our manager, you idiot!” Iwaizumi yells annoyed and approaches you both, while Oikawa tries to hide behind you. “Not my face, not my face!” Oikawa begs from behind you, leaning his head against your back. Iwaizumi tries to pull him away from you as the coach calls everyone together and demands their attention.

Iwaizumi would definitely be the first to tell you that he has feelings for you. But also alone, not in front of all your friends.

He would pull you aside, casually ask if you had a moment and just before he confessed his feelings to you. His tough determination would leave him and he would scratch the back of his neck until he got the words out almost sulkily, not looking you in the eye at first, before repeating his words with more determination, this time looking at you.

Oikawa would try to win your attention with every second.

Whether it’s in class because he offers to answer difficult questions and flaunts the answer to make himself look smart and strong in front of you, or whether it’s in training when he scores 5 points only with his serves.

Even your teacher doesn’t call you by name as often as Oikawa does when he wants your attention.

He also doesn’t like it when he sees you with other guys. He always pushes his way in between your conversations and tries to be close to you.

“Oh hey, Y/n-chan, what are you talking about right now?” he asks with feigned curiosity, his arms draped over your shoulders as he stares darkly into the eyes of the young guy in front of you. “Oh eh, we were talking about the new movie that airs tomorrow,” you reply, looking back over your shoulder at Oikawa, who suddenly looks at you with a smile, the dark expression completely gone. “A movie? Shall we go together?” He’s not really in the mood for the cinema, but if it means this guy leaves and Oikawa can spend more time with you, it’s a win-win.

Oikawa walks out of the changing room with a big grin on his face. Freshly showered and in everyday clothes after his team won the game against a neighboring team. “Did you see how many points I scored in that game? It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, totally full of himself, as he puts his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “Yes... you really scored a lot of points. But Hajime was also really-“, ”Iwa-chan could only score so many points because I’m the best setter. Right? You saw that, didn’t you? How I pass the ball into Iwa-chan’s hand?" he interrupts you, almost as if it annoys him that you were about to praise his best friend. With a sigh, you just chuckle. “Mhh yes, that’s right. You’re really great.” you answer him and watch as his eyes sparkle even brighter and he happily presses you against his chest. “I knew you only had eyes for me, little birdy.”

Since Oikawa assumes that every woman likes him anyway, he also expects you to like him. Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Maybe.

The fact that you two are always doing so much together and that he’s like a clingy puppy somehow blurs the line between friendship and relationship.

At some point, when a guy had asked for your number, Oikawa had then shouted loudly that the guy should leave his girlfriend alone. You looked at him in confusion and there was a brief, awkward silence until you asked him if by any chance he had feelings for you.

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰

MDNI, pretty pls with a cherry on top

✫A/N: I’m rlly just pushing these fics out my pussy with no hesitation. talking abt pussy if u have one ur gonna love this one. this on is kinda shorter than my other ones but as always, enjoy this one loves!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You were ovulating and you wanted dick, bad. But it’s almost 2 in the morning and your boyfriend is asleep, so what are you gonna do! You didn’t want to wake him up just for dick, or did you

⋆.ೃ࿔*･wc: 1,673

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: degradation, masturbation, praise, backshots, slight somno, riding, free use, oral masc!receiving, squirting, gentle, soft mdom, finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(the reader is black)

During ovulation, most women turn into sex-addicted monsters or cock sluts. You’re leaning more towards cock slut. It was 1:30 am on a Tuesday night and your vibrator has become your best friend. You were currently assaulting your clit with your vibrator, going on orgasm number 3. The vibrator wasn’t enough though, you needed him. You let out a quiet moan before reaching your now third orgasm. You feel so pitiful, in the bathroom with the door locked, and sitting on the sink watching your pink bullet vibrator go crazy on your clit. You let out a sigh before cleaning up the mirror where juices flew. 

“Fuck, this sucks..”

You mumbled, fixing your bonnet and then sitting on the sink. You get your phone and start texting your friends. 

1:45 AM

(♡): “I’m so horny rn and nothing is working”

Sashaluv: “I know you are not telling us about your pussy problems at 1 am :/”

Mikamika: “Have you thought abt going to bed and not telling us abt it??”

You chuckle at Mikasa’s response before sighing and leaving the bathroom. You walk to your room and throw your phone somewhere in the room, not paying attention to where it went or what was open. 

You notice your semi-muscular and very shirtless boyfriend sleeping on your bed. Your clit is basically screaming for him, there’s no way you're turned on just by looking at this gorgeous man. His hair was down, messily framing his face, his toned chest moving every time he took a breath, and the hem of his pajama pants hanging low. You wish you could just pounce on him right now and grind your hungry pussy on his dick. Your hand travels down to the hem of your Pajama shorts. You fiddle with the edge of your underwear before finally reaching down and drawing small circles on your clit. 

“F-fuck…”

You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you trace the outline of your lips before finally putting 2 fingers in. You let out a shaky moan, and the grip on your mouth tightens as your speed increases. Eren’s facial features are even more beautiful now than ever, the moonlight is hitting his body just right. You can see every muscle, hair, and tattoo. Is this how he feels whenever fucking you? If so you now know why you guys fuck like rabid animals. Your vision gets cloudy as you soak your hands in your sweet juices. 

“I can’t take it anymore…I need him”

You huff before walking to the bed and climbing on top of him. He groans a bit at the sudden shift in weight before falling back into a daze. You start grinding on his cock slowly, your head dips back in pleasure. 

“Mama…”

Eren utters a breathy moan before rubbing his eyes. You’re lustful brown eyes meet his tired green ones, the way he looks at you drives you even more insane. 

“I hope I’m not dreaming, and my pretty girl is grinding her wet pussy on me…fuck”

He groans before putting his hands on your hips and making you grind harder. You bit your lip tightly, trying to keep a moan in your mouth. You feel his cock twitch inside his pants, you grind harder in response.

“You couldn’t sleep so you took matters into your own hands? Fuck…keep going.”

The bed creaks slightly every time you thrust your hips. Moans flooding out of your mouth like a pornstar. The way you and Eren fuck all the time you’re surprised your neighbors don’t think you are one.

“I can’t let you sleep like this mama, you wanna get fucked until you cum baby?”

You nod again, almost making it to orgasm number 5 of the night before he stops you. His long big hands bring your hips to a halt. You whimpered and looked down at his now lustful emerald eyes. 

“It’s never that straightforward baby and you know that. I’ll let you use me to your heart's content, but you’re not done until I say so.”

You nod in agreement and start untying his pajama pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

 “You have to clean up after yourself afterward, I don’t want my pretty slut riding a messy cock.” 

His fuckboy smirk enveloped his handsome features. God…you hated that smirk, it only means he has something up his sleeves. But it gets your pussy wet every time, you're soaking through your shorts during this hot and heavy interaction.

“Fine, but just let me use you. Please.”

You gave him the best ‘give me dick.’ look you could muster, and it worked. He groaned softly before nodding. You quickly untie his pajama pants and pull them down. You take off your shorts and pushing your panties to the side. 

You grab the base of his cock and adjust yourself before sliding him into your cunt. You both let out deafening moans, you slowly grind on him still trying to adjust to his size.

"Good girl, show me how much you love my cock."

You slowly start bouncing on his cock. Eren admires the way your tits jump every time you bounce on his wood.

“Fuck…you’re so big…”

Eren grins before muttering curses under his breath. He grabs your love handles, forcing you to keep a slow and steady pace. You groaned at Eren’s stubbornness to let you do what you want. 

"I know mama, I know. Just do this f'me ok?"

You melted at his sweet words and his silky voice. Eren is the type of man to make you cum with the snap of his fingers. He’s fine, funny, a sweet talker, and has a big dick. What’s not to love? You got brought out of your own mind when Eren started tracing circles around your clit. 

“M-my clit…it’s sensitive! E-Eren, please.” 

He shakes his head, chuckling at your sudden change in character. 

“You were just begging for my cock, what happened? Did the cock slut finally have too much cock?” 

His pink lips gave you a fake pout to add to the condescending tone of his voice. Eren thrust his hips into you, leaving tiny kisses on your cervix every time. Your hands run down his chest and to his abs, feeling every muscle and vein on his torso. Eren feels you clench around him, causing a breathy moan to leave his mouth. 

“Ma, fuck…you can take it come on, cum on my cock.” 

You cry out as your juices cover his cock, Eren is hypnotized watching his cock slide in and out of you. He grunts before sliding you off of his cock. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum, now clean up your mess.” 

You’re completely cock drunk, the only thing you can think about is Eren's big cock in your cunt. You nod before crawling under the covers and grabbing his dick in your hands. You feel him jerk from your cold touch. You lick up the side of his shaft a couple of times before putting his full length in your throat.

“That throat feels good baby. Let me fuck your throat.” 

He grabs the top of your bonnet pushing you as far as you can go. Tears start forming in the corner of your eyes before you start bobbing your head. You can hear Eren mumbling your name under his breath, you take that as a sign that you’re doing a good job.

“Fuck ma I’m about to cum…”

You use your hand to stroke his cock while you suck it, sending him over the edge.

“I wanna cum inside of you, get back up here.”

You do one last stroke of his cock before he pulls you under him. With your face stuffed in the pillow and your ass in the air, it doesn’t take long before Eren rubs your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, show me who this cock belongs to.”

He whispers in your ear, trailing soft kisses up your back before shoving his dick inside of you with no warning. You yelp in surprise, his cock spreading you apart so good. He starts with a steady pace before it turns into violent backshots. Your moans are muffled in the pillow and you’re clawing at the sheets. 

“Eren! Fuck…slow down.”

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s grinning ear to ear. You hear him click his tongue in response 

“No mama, you can take it. I’ve trained this pussy well. Come on, say ‘I can take it’. Say it”

You sobbed into the pillow, not daring to move your hand back to try to stop him. The pleasure is too much, and truthfully you enjoyed it.

“I…I c-can…mmph…take it…”

You were able to get the statement out even between the torment Eren is putting your cervix through. 

“You can take what ma? Say for me and I’ll let your pretty pussy cum.”

He whispers in your ear, his hands running up and down your body. He’s leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your neck. 

“I…fuck…I can…I can take it! I love it! Fuck…I love your cock!”

You look like a pornstar right now and Eren is loving it. The drool hanging from your two-toned lips, your pink bonnet slipping off your head exposing your knotless braids, the way your plump ass slams against his pelvis, and your puffy pussy wrapped around his cock. 

“I’m about to…mmph…cum!”

You sob before coving his cock in more of your juices. He follows closely after, shooting white ropes inside of you and leaving a rim of your mixed fluids around the base of his cock. Eren collapses on top of you, leaving a trail of passionate kisses along your neck. 

“You did so well mama, you're such a good girl…”

He trails off, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“Thanks…for the help, I love you…”

“I love you too…”

3:29 AM

(♡): [Audio message]

Sashaluv: “I’m guessing she fixed her pussy problem…:/”

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello, I have a request. How about Aaron going costume shopping and Aaron loses her FOR A MINUTE before he finds her where all the princess and fairy costumes are. Like she is completely mesmerized by costumes that she doesn’t notice Aaron picking her up and saying “I’m reconsidering making you a leash kid, you know” but he doesn’t really mean it and she’s just pointing at a costume “I want this one, daddy!”

jumpscares

i changed this up a tiny bit but the overall concept is still there <33 cw; fem!reader, protective girl dad!aaron (small angst), jack calls reader mom, references to your usual cm violence, halloween and fluff!! wc; 1k

"Dad, c'mon." Jack whined in slight impatience and excitement, prying the door open and hanging back slightly on the handle.

"We can only move so fast bud." Aaron responded, maintaining his current pace. We as in Ellie. Her tiny legs limited her speed, she was practically skipping to keep up with just him. "The costumes aren't going anywhere."

With the holiday quickly approaching and Jack's insistent worries the cool costumes will be gone soon - while you ran necessary errands of your own, he had been tasked with taking the kids to the Halloween store.

Upon entering, Aaron lost Ellie's hand almost immediately as she halted, causing it to slip abruptly from his grasp.

She was frozen in place with her gaze directed forward, keeping a generous distance from the frightful animatronics greeting the three of them at the entrance.

A scowl was on her face; it didn't appear she wasn't necessarily scared, but a mix of disgust and worry were vividly present instead.

"They're not real sweetheart." Aaron tried to reassure, his gaze softening. "They're just decorations."

"I don't like that one." Ellie grabbed his hand, using her other to point at the menacing, horrific clown. "He looks mean."

"He does, doesn't he?" Aaron agreed, his mouth drawing into a pensive line as he played along. "But that's okay. They're meant to be for fun."

"They're not very fun."

The three began wandering through the display of frightful animatronics, led by Jack, a good idea in theory. Jack disciplinarily left Aaron's mouth a few times, as he attempted to get his sister to step on the sensors in order to get spooked.

Ellie ended up in his hold, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt while Jack indulged himself in getting delightfully jumpscared. She merely watched, each burst of sound causing her to scoot closer into her father, more like her shield.

"Alright, let's find what we came here for." Aaron placed Ellie down, Jack beginning to browse as they reached the costumes. "It is a school night. We can't be out too late."

Selecting a costume, or even brainstorming an idea was bound to a lengthy task, the two of them utterly indecisive. Ellie adored every costume they passed, had to stop, look and point it out. Jack, on the other hand, was pursuing a more silent, observational strategy.

"Anything sticking out?"

"Maybe Spiderman?"

"You never stick to Spiderman." Aaron reminded him with a small smile, the fond memory of when Jack dressed up as him coming to mind - easily within his top five Dad moments of all time.

"Yeah... so maybe not that." Jack breathed out a huff, his eyes continuing to peer around. "Or we can all be superheroes." He poked an adult Batman costume, causing it to sway. "You can be this, and then Mom can be Wonder Woman or something."

Aaron nodded slowly, although he personally didn't plan on dressing up. But could he be persuaded by you and the kids? Maybe. "That could be fun."

"And then Ellie could be Spidergirl-"

Speaking of Ellie, she had grown suspiciously quiet - her chatter stopping altogether. Aaron's eyes shot down, only to find Ellie not besides him.

Jack was the one who verbalized it, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "Where'd Ellie go?"

Panic immediately swept through him, his heart rate heightening and his body succumbing to a numbing freeze. Fuck.

Suddenly, he didn't know whether or not his knowledge of child abductions were an advantage or disadvantage; knowing how to act quickly, but also the unfortunate outcomes.

his mind instantly shot to the conversations he had with victim's familiies with what felt like daily. The scenario had turned- he was in their shoes. And just as they all stated in their interviews: He should've been paying closer attention. He only looked away for a minute. He knew these things - why did he look away?

Attempting to push the statistics in the back of his mind, he was on the move, Jack following right at his heels.

"Ellie?"

Luckily the fear was short lived; she was two aisles over, captivated by the girliest costumes one could imagine, very Ellie-esque.

"Eleanor." Aaron breathed out in relief as he saw his piggytail-headed daughter, sweeping her right off her feet again. "You know better than to wander off."

"I wanna be this." Ellie pried a princess costume off the rack, Aaron paused as he lifted her so she could remove it successfully. "Can I Daddy? I really wanna."

"Well, let's make sure it's your size." He took it, doublechecking and allowing his heart rate to calm down. Upon confirmation, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you want to be this? Or do you want to be a superhero with Jack?"

"I wanna be a princess." Ellie insisted, a pleading tone within her voice. "Pretty please?"

"Sure, if that's what you want. We'll have to find you a crown too, or use one from home, it doesn't seem to be included." She nodded as Aaron tucked the packaging under his elbow, allowing him to hold both it and her. However, his demeanor switched over to one more serious. "But hey, look at me please."

Her adjacent brown eyes met his own; a touch of fault, and sincereness. She knew she had disobeyed in one way or another. And whenever she did, it was written all over on her face.

"No running off, okay?" He instructed sternly, but gently. "It's really important I can always see you, and you can always see me. We don't want you getting lost, yeah?"

She shook her head. "That would be bad."

"Very bad. Mom would not be happy with me if I came home without you." Aaron affirmed, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes we do." She replied cheerily, oblivious to the heart attack she had just given her father. "No running away."

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, exhaling and the tension in his shoulders alleviating. Ellie was fine. No need for further panicking. Everything was fine.

And Jack, ever the dear, comically inputted, a witty grin plastered on his face. "Maybe Ellie should be the Flash instead."

[nymphoniah]

can I request old man Logan where he’s looking for his glasses and he finds the reader sitting in his seat wearing them & teasing him how can he see without them. Then something primal inside him overcomes him to put her in her place

I hope that’s not too silly of a request I just drool over old man Logan especially with his glasses

you know i’m no good | logan howlett

i love this old man… i need him like air!!! ackkkk </3. tysm for sending this request in, we all need a grumpy logan in our lives :3 also i just read the old man logan comics and lord!!! i absolutely need to write more of himmmm

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

content/tags: NSFW minors dni, 18+ only, implied age gap (reader is in their 20’s), soft dom!logan, afab!reader, boot riding, smut, daddy kink, swearing, pet names (princess, doll, etc), a little bit of dacryphilia, logan refers to himself as an old man, porn w a lil bit of plot if you squint, crybaby!reader

you absolutely love the way logan’s glasses hang off of his nose bridge—always making sure when you’re peppering his face in kisses, you kiss the little bump that accentuates his features.

logan was a little embarrassed at first, wearing his glasses around you. thought it made him look older, already felt senile just taking them out of the case.

“c’mon!” you tease, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “i like the way you look in them,” you push him further, toying with the frames of his glasses.

“i look older in ‘em,” he says, playing off your kind words, “never was a fan of wearing them in the first place,” logan continues to drone on.

“charles says otherwise,” you snap back, your fingers playing where his glasses sit on his ears, flipping the glasses slightly up and down off his nose bridge.

logan chuckles, allowing you to continue playing with his glasses. “fine, i’ll wear ‘em,” he obliges much quicker than you thought he would—god knows the man loves to put on a fight.

but for you? he’d fold instantly. that’s what you do to him, you’re his little soft spot.

“only ‘cause you like it, princess.”

so when time passes, and you start to see him wear his glasses less and less, you decide to mess around with him a bit—give him a little surprise!

now here you are, sat in his armchair with a small smirk forming at the corner of your lips. your legs crossed, eyes peering up at him, but this time—his glasses perched on your nose.

logan approaches you slowly, his footsteps heavy, his figure towering over yours. he’s just come home from work, dressed up in his black and white suit, his tie slightly undone. he looks especially tired, like he’s had a long day.

“you broke your promise,” you trail off quietly, losing your smugness as logan looks down at you, his eyes sullen. “forgot these at home,” you continue, pointing at the glasses.

you try to ease the tension in the air by cracking a joke. “bet you couldn’t even drive straight without these.”

your words draw no reaction from logan. it’s painfully obvious that he’s drained from the day, and has no patience for whatever you have planned.

“i don’t have time for this,” he shrugs you off, pulling at your arm to get you up on your feet, “get ‘outta my spot, need to have some fuckin’ peace for once”.

you hate when logan gets like this, refusing to let you know what’s occupying his thoughts, keeping you in the dark—pushing you away.

so being the stubborn girl you are, you stay limp, refusing to move from the armchair. “no.” you retort, voice low and quiet.

logan can obviously lift you out of the chair with no issues, no tugging on your wrists or anything of the sort. but he sees that you’re at least trying to ease him up, make him feel the tiniest bit better. so he bites.

“can’t hear ‘ya, princess” logan says, the timbre of his voice gravelly, his eyebrow now raised, watching for your next move.

“no.” you respond sternly, shifting your weight further into the leather, tugging your arm away from his grasp.

something inside logan snaps. maybe it’s just ‘cause he had a bad day at work, or perhaps he just got riled up, seeing you get all bratty with him. knowing him, it was probably a combination of the two.

“no?” he mocks, sounding bitter as he lets out a tsk. “wrong fuckin’ answer, sweetheart.”

and that’s when the mood changes. the tension is still there, but there’s a shift. you feel your stomach turn, in a weird, twisted way—aroused by the way logan looks down at you with displeasure.

“need me to put you in your place, huh?” logan spits out, grabbing you by the wrist, finally pulling you out of the armchair.

taking little effort, he makes you stumble to your knees, your palms hitting the ground of the hardwood floor. you’re kneeled in front of logan, feeling foolish, stupid for trying to pester him after a long day.

“m’sorry,” you mutter, eyes glued to the floor, his glasses sliding low on your nose.

logan perches down to your height, bending down so that he’s level to your ears. “it’s a bit too late for apologies now, doll,” he coos, cupping your face with one of his hands.

he squishes your cheeks together, making it so that you’re looking up at him now. his eyes are sullen, facial features stern, the bags under his eyes a bit darker than usual.

streams of sorry, sorry, sorry is all you can manage let out of your pretty little mouth. you feel so guilty, upsetting him. sure, you had no ill intentions, but you know you pushed him—you should’ve just gotten out of the stupid chair, could’ve avoided this stupid mess.

the thoughts continue to drill into your brain, the regret. your eyes start to get teary, you just can’t help it. after everything that logan’s done, all the shit he’s been through, you didn’t wanna add onto his problems, cause any unnecessary stress in his life.

“don’t cry, princess” he consoles you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. logan steadies himself back up, seating himself into the leather armchair where you once sat.

you shift around, slotting yourself between his legs, your pink, teary eyes looking up at him. “m’sorry still, didn’t wanna make you mad,” you sniffled out, taking off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

you leaned your head against his leg, your cheek nuzzling into the fabric of his slacks, your tears staining the pants a darker shade of black.

logan looked down at you, his tired eyes admiring the way you sat below him, practically worshiping him. “you’re just needy for your old man, hm?” he says, patting your head gently as you continue to weep.

“can’t help it, lo,” you murmur, tears becoming less frequent as he continues to tangle his fingers in your hair. “you’ve been gone a lot.”

your eyes fall down to his black leather dress shoes, the stitching of the shoes frayed, the material slightly worn at the edges. your fingertips play with the toe of his boots, trying to ground yourself.

“i know, i know, doll,” he replies, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his eyes catching the way you were staring intently at his shoes. “show me how much you missed me.”

your mind is still racing, trying to find a way to ease the pain you felt on your heart, the residing guilt you felt from earlier.

that’s ‘till you let your body think for itself, mindlessly hovering your clothed cunt on top of his boot. your breath stutters, trying to make sense of your actions, but it’s the last thing you wanna do.

all you want to do is turn your brain off—make sure that the pain goes away, that all your troubles could be temporarily solved.

“need this, need you,” you whine, placing yourself firmly on his boot, slowly grinding against him, pressing the temple of your head onto logan’s knee.

logan feels himself hardening at the sight of you getting off on him, his cock twitching as you paw at his slacks, your roaming hands finding their way to his crotch.

“fuck…” he hisses out, tilting his heels slightly upwards, making it so that the toe of his shoes angles right against your cunt. “my filthy girl just needed her old man to comfort her, yeah?”

you moan out in pleasure, your eyes shutting tight as you pace yourself, rutting against the rugged leather rhythmically. your cunt was leaking with your arousal, the excess slowly dripping down the sides of his shoes.

“missed you… so bad… d-daddy,” you cried out in between pants, your breath quivering, feeling the pressure in your core building up. “don’t know what i’d do… without ’ya…”

“you don’t need to worry about that, princess,” logan coos, “daddy’s right here,” he punctuates by nestling the toe of his shoe deeper inside your messy cunt.

“shut your pretty little brain off and keep riding me like that.”

[lovesculprit]

Kinktober Day 9 - Edging with Choso

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), anypov, handjob, oral (reader giving), edging, orgasm denial, submissive choso ˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 3k

a/n: first time writing a submissive man so it's new to me + to ensure i posted this today, i had to get rid of the first part and go right into the smut but essentially he was needy and interrupted your night because of it and you're not too happy

"Please-" Choso’s voice was trembling, promising to crack as he fell to his knees before you, his forehead pressed against your stomach. His hands dug into your hips hard, as though he might have thought you would slip away at any moment, his need palpable in every touch. “I’ll do anything—just please, I need to feel you.”

His desperate plea sent a thrill through you, but you kept your expression firm, determined to make him wait. You threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back gently so his eyes met yours.

“You’ll do anything?” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with authority.

He nodded wildly, eyes wide and dark with lust, "Anything-Please."

You looked down at him for a moment, savouring the power you held over him, how he trembled at your feet, willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

"Fine," you said finally, releasing his hair to step back. "Get on the bed."

Choso scrambled to his feet, almost falling over as he rushed to it. He let out a breath as he flung himself onto the bed-falling back with his eyes fixed on you, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he waited for your next move.

You followed slowly, taking your time as you settled beside him. His hands immediately reached for you, but you caught his wrists, pushing them away gently as you shook your head.

"No touching," you said stoutly, narrowing your eyes. "Not yet. I'm still mad at you." 

You traced your fingers lightly down his chest, watching the way his breath hitched, his muscles tensing up under your touch. He whined, looking like a dejected puppy but pulled his hands back nevertheless.

"God, please…", Choso's voice was torn and barely hanging on. "Please, don't tease me. I’m so sorry-”

“You did this to yourself,” you reminded him coolly, your fingers barely grazing the waistband of his pants. His hips jerked up instinctively, searching for more contact, but you pulled away just as quickly, drawing a tortured groan from him.

“Please,” he whimpered again, hands fisting the sheets as he fought to stay still. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” you whispered,“And you will.”

Choso shuddered at your words, his hands gripping the sheets even tighter as you trailed your hand lower, teasingly brushing against his erection through the fabric of his pants. He let out a broken moan, head falling back against the pillows, completely at your mercy.

You kept your touch feather-light, teasing him with just enough pressure to remind him how close he was, but not enough to give him any real relief. Every time your fingers grazed over the ache between his legs, it left him on the verge of breaking, his need growing with every second of your restraint.

Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back, your eyes locking with his. “I want you to remember this the next time you can’t control yourself in public,” you whispered, your voice laced with amusement as your fingers barely brushed over his clothed erection again.

Choso's breath hitched sharply at your touch, a desperate whimper escaping his lips. He instinctively bucked his hips into your hand, searching for more, but you pulled away just as quickly, leaving him yearning for the friction he craved so desperately.

"Ah, fuck, please." he breathed, his voice tight with desperation. His fists clenched into the bedsheets, the knuckles going white as he struggled still to remain still-to fight off the powerful urge begging him to reach out and drag you nearer.

The anticipation in his gaze couldn't have been mistaken. His pupils blown wide with lust, his chest heaved as his breathing was ragged. He looked absolutely wrecked, sprawled out beneath you, his skin flushed and slick with a light sheen of sweat-utterly at your mercy and you hadn’t even started.

You leaned down again, pressing a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth as the shudder ran through him. Your hand slid lower, cupping him through the fabric of his pants, and he twitched hard against your palm, aching for your touch.

Choso let out a choked moan, hips jerking up of their own accord in an attempt to force more contact. "Yes, fuck, please. I need it. I need you. I'll do anything, just please touch me," he begged, raw desperation in his voice.

A smirk pulled at your lips as you revelled in the power over him. Seeing him like this-desperate, needy, and completely undone-was intoxicating in a way you couldn't deny.

"Since you asked so nicely." you purred, your fingers taking their sweet time to pull down his sweats. His eyes widened as his entire body stiffened in anticipation. You slipped your hand inside his boxers, sliding your fingers around his throbbing length and pulling his cock free.

He let out a deep, guttural groan, his head falling back against the pillows, completely lost to the sensation of finally being touched.

"Fuck, yes..." Choso breathes, his voice shaky as his hips twitch up into your hand, chasing the friction your touch offers.

You begin stroking him slowly, your grip firm but deliberately not too tight. His cock pulses in your hand, the velvety skin hot and smooth beneath your fingers. Pre-cum beads at the tip, and you use your thumb to smear it across, making his shaft glisten under the soft light.

Your pace remains teasing, every movement feather-light, dragging out his need. Choso whimpers beneath you, his body writhing, hips lifting off the bed in an attempt to get more pressure, more of the pleasure he’s aching for. But you keep him in check, maintaining the maddeningly slow pace, determined to drive him wild.

"Fuck, your hand feels so good," he pants, his voice strained, the sound thick with desperation. His abs flex with every ragged breath, muscles jumping as his body responds to your agonisingly slow strokes. You can feel the way he throbs in your grip—hot, hard, and on edge, just waiting for more.

Leaning down, you trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the curve of his neck, your teeth grazing and sucking at the sensitive skin. Choso keens, his fingers instinctively tangling in your hair, tugging you closer as his body shudders beneath your touch.

"Please, I need more," he begs, his voice wrecked, already on the verge, and you haven’t even fully started. A dark chuckle escapes your lips against his throat, the vibration making him tremble in response.

"Patience, baby."

You speed up your strokes just slightly, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, knowing exactly how that little twist drives him insane. Choso cries out, his back arching off the bed, his thighs trembling beneath you as he tightens, so close. You feel the tension build in his body, his breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps as his balls draw up tight.

"Shit, I’m gonna... fuck, I’m close already," he groans, his voice high and tight, on the verge of breaking. But just as he teeters on the edge of release, you slow your hand again, pulling him back from the brink just in time.

"Please don’t stop—" Choso whines, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding back the orgasm he so desperately craves. You smirk, gripping him from base to tip, watching the desperation pour off him in waves, completely at your mercy.

Choso's whole body is shaking with effort of restraint, muscles rigid and tensed in his struggle to remain in control. A fine sheen of sweat slicks over his flushed skin, chest rising and falling with every disjointed breath. His cock pulses in your hand, swollen at the tip and leaking steadily with his restraint.

Your touch remains a maddening blend of pleasure and denial, every stroke measured just right to keep him teetering on the edge without giving him what he so desperately needs. 

Choso's eyes are screwed shut, his face twisted up in an almost agonised expression, practically panting with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. His whole body had gone taut, every muscle rigid under the smothering tension surging through him.

"Please, please, please" he's mumbling low under his breath, voice husky with need. You can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, his body telling you he's close again but you're not ready to give it to him.

"Not yet," you whisper, the words low as you lean in to nip at his earlobe. The sensation sends him into a shudder; he lets out a strangled moan, his hips jerking upward in a futile attempt to get more than you’re offering. But you hold him steady, keeping him firmly under your control.

You finally release your grip on his throbbing cock, and Choso’s eyes flutter open, watching you with a mix of hope and fear. He’s so desperate, so close, but when he opens his mouth to beg again, you silence him with a slow, teasing kiss. Your tongue flicks out to taste the salty sweat on his skin, making him tremble even more.

Your lips trail lower, down his chest, until you’re kneeling between his spread thighs. His breath catches as you hover over his cock, your breath ghosting across the sensitive, swollen head. Choso lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting in the sheets, watching with wide, needy eyes as you lower your lips to him.

You take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling gently around the tip, savouring this moment. A deep, desperate moan escapes his lips, but you keep a hand on his stomach, silently telling him to stay, refusing to let him take control. You keep your pace slow, your lips wrapping snugly around him, teasing the sensitive slit with your tongue.

"Fuck, yes," Choso groans, his voice trembling as you suck him deeper. You can feel him stretch your throat as you take him further, your tongue tracing the veins along the underside of his cock, making him shudder beneath you.

You pull back, leaving him slick and glistening with saliva. Choso's head rolls back, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. His cock pulses in your hand-the veins standing out, throbbing with his need for release.

You smile up at him for a moment before sliding back down and taking him into your mouth again, sucking with just enough force to keep him right on the edge. His body goes rigid, his hands clenching the sheets so tight, his cock twitching between your lips as you control the rhythm, keeping him dangling on the brink of pleasure.

As you continue to tease Choso with your mouth, you feel him getting close again—his thighs trembling, his cock pulsing urgently against your tongue. Just as he teeters on the brink of release, you pull back, releasing him with a soft, deliberate ‘pop.’ The frustrated whine that escapes him is immediate.

“Fuck, why did you stop?" he pants, his voice strained and shaking with need. His eyes are wide and pleading, wordlessly begging you for the release he's been chasing all night.

You smirk smugly, your tongue sweeping over your lips. "Because I can," you reply, your voice teasing.

Choso's body is a mess of desperate twitches and jerks, his hips rocking forward in a futile attempt to guide himself deeper into your mouth. His skin is sheened with sweat, and his whimpers grow more frantic, more needy with every passing second. You can feel him growing more sensitive with each pulse of his cock against your tongue more intense than the last.

He's so close now, his breathing catching in his throat as his entire body tenses, almost as though bracing for the release you keep pulling just out of reach.

"Please—" he whimpers, voice cracking under the weight of desperation. "Please, I can't—

But you don't let up. You just keep teasing him, your mouth working him, balancing him precariously over the edge of release without pushing him over. Each time he gets close, his body locking up with anticipation, you pull back far enough to let him be denied again. His frustration mounts, and so do his desperate, whining pleas.

Choso's whimpers grow louder, more insistent-raw with need. You can see it in the tight lines of his face, his muscles quivering with tension in the ongoing fight against denial.

"Fuck, please, I need-" he gasps, strain breaking his voice to barely coherent. He's at his limit.

You wrap your hand around his throbbing shaft, stroking him slowly, deliberately. “What do you need, baby?” you purr, your voice low and taunting as you watch him unravel beneath you.

“I need to come,” Choso whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. “I’m so fucking close, please—”

You tighten your grip around him, twisting your wrist just the way you know drives him wild. His cry is immediate, his back arching off the bed as his cock pulses desperately in your hand, the veins standing out in stark relief. He’s on the verge of breaking, so close to surrendering to the pleasure you’ve been teasing him with all night.

"Look at me," you command, your voice steady and firm. Choso’s eyes flutter open, hazy with lust and desperation. When they meet yours, they are pleading, full of raw need.

"Please," he gasps, his hips twitching up into your hand, chasing the friction you’re cruelly denying him. "I can’t take it anymore. I need to come so bad it hurts."

You feel him throbbing in your palm, every pulse a testament to how close he is, teetering on the edge of release. He's completely undone, radiating desperation in waves that crash against you.

"Are you sorry for ruining my dinner with my friends?" you ask, your tone deceptively calm.

For a moment, Choso blinks up at you in confusion, his brow furrowing. Then realisation hits and his eyes widen- panic and pleading blending into one frantic expression. He nods, vigorously- wide, begging eyes that never leave yours. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry," he gasps out, words tumbling from his lips in short desperate bursts. "I'm so fucking sorry, please-"

He's a mess beneath you, completely destroyed-his skin flushed, slick with sweat, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His cock is throbbing in your grip, the tip an angry shade, leaking uncontrollably as he teeters on the edge of oblivion.

"I didn't mean to- fuck, I swear I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I was just so fucking horny, I- I couldn't help myself. Please, let me come. I'll do anything-just please-"

His voice cracks, a sob welling in his throat, while his body quivers with the effort of withholding the release he so desperately needs. His hands fist the sheets, his knuckles white as his whole body becomes one massive bundle of tension in his trying to comply with your orders.

He's gorgeous like this: utterly destroyed, laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. The knowledge of the power you have over him in this instant is an intoxicating feeling-the knowledgeable rush that gives the tingle down the spine. You could do anything to him like this, keep him on his brink, forever if you wanted.

Finally, you give in, your thumb rubbing over the swollen head, coaxing a drop of precum from the tip. Choso lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch.

"I forgive you," you murmur, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips. He moans into the kiss, his body arching up into yours, his cock jerking in your hand.

You pick up the pace of your strokes, watching as his eyes flutter open, his gaze hazy with lust. His hips buck into your hand, his body trembling with need.

"Come for me, baby," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. Choso lets out a guttural moan, his body tensing up as if preparing for the inevitable.

With a broken cry, Choso’s body tenses, his cock pulsing hard in your hand as he finally releases. Hot ropes of cum spill over your hand and onto his stomach, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. His hips jerk uncontrollably, thrusting up into your grip as you milk every last drop from him, prolonging his pleasure.

You hold him through it, your hand still wrapped gently around his length, coaxing him down from the high until the last tremors subside. Choso’s chest heaves, his body spent, a sheen of sweat covering his flushed skin. His breathing is ragged, his eyes closed in blissful exhaustion.

You pull back, sliding up along his body to press a soft kiss to his temple. “That’s a good boy,” you murmur, your thumb gently sweeping over his cheek, wiping away a stray bead of sweat.

Choso’s eyes flutter open, a dazed, satisfied smile curving his lips. He looks at you like he’s still floating somewhere far away, utterly content. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice soft, fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair, pulling you down for another gentle kiss.

"Anytime, baby," you whisper against his lips, your smile mirroring his. You settle down beside him, his head coming to rest on your shoulder, arms draped over your chest. Choso tugs you close, your heartbeat steady and calm against his ear as he lets his eyes close, blissfully exhausted.

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© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[kvroomi]

artist!reader and skater!suna who you first meet in college one morning when you’re running late for class, carrying a comedically large portfolio across the campus square. your head is buried deep in your phone, checking for last-minute updates on the class. that’s when an abrupt gust of wind shoots across your face and forces your head up instantly, only to see a skater soaring past with hardly an inch of space between you. 

“what the hell, watch it!” you yell, immediately stepping backward and using both hands to grasp your portfolio tightly. 

the skater remains undisrupted, gazing forward and only casually waving a hand back to call, “my bad!” 

artist!reader with skater!suna who you see again, a week after almost knocking you over. coincidentally enough, he's sat at the exit steps to the art building, tying his shoelaces with his skateboard next to him.

"fucking prick." you walk straight past, muttering under your breath.

he must have heard you because, within seconds, he's walking by your side. "no way! you're the girl from last week. don't tell me you're still mad about the other morning! it was an accident." he throws his hands up in disbelief.

you ignore him and continue walking.

artist!reader with skater!suna who is determined to befriend you after your brief interaction. he waits at the same steps of the art building until your classes finish, skating up to you when he spots your familiar figure. he attempts to strike up a conversation by commenting on how "serious" you always look, and it's then that you bite back with a witty retort and he grins.

"took you long enough to talk to me."

artist!reader and skater!suna who both hang out at the skatepark together one afternoon. you're practicing your motion sketches, discreetly observing suna skate and using him as a reference for your drawings. 

suna walks over to you, leaning on his board. “whatcha drawing, picasso?”

“you,” you say without looking up. his heart skips and he can feel his face grow warm.

“oh yeah?” he peers over your shoulder. “do i look cool?”

“you’d look cooler if you didn’t wipe out every five minutes,” you deadpan, flipping to another page.

“alright, picasso,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “let’s see you try then.”

and that’s how you find yourself on top of suna’s skateboard, gripping his shoulders for dear life.

“relax, you’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hands to steady you.

“easy for you to say,” you grumble, eyes wide as he starts to slowly push the board.

you don’t even make it five feet before you’re losing your balance and falling. suna doubles over laughing, pulling out his phone with a sinister grin. “hold still, i need a picture of this for the archives.”

“don’t you dare,” you warn, scrambling to your feet. but it’s too late—he’s already posting it on his story with the caption: skating > art

artist!reader who gives skater!suna the nickname deckhead, after a particularly grueling painting session. 

“can you please just focus for once?” standing up from your desk and tossing your paintbrush aside, you continue angrily. “i’m trying to get this done, and you’re just—”

“distracting?” suna interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “you’re the one acting like the world’s ending because you can’t paint a perfect line.”

there’s a sharp jab of irritation. "it’s not just about the line! i’ve been working nonstop on this, and all you’re doing is—"

he cuts you off again, this time with a half-smile. “i know, i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. but the words slip out before you can stop them. “god, you’re such a dickhead.”

the moment it slips past your lips, you feel the tension rise in the room. it’s silent but as if the universe had a sense of humor, you glare at his skateboard propped against the wall.

“no.” you scoff, shaking your head, your frustration turning into something more mocking. “you’re not even a real dickhead, you’re just a… deckhead.”

suna blinks, frozen for a second. “deckhead?”

you cross your arms, mouth curling into a sinister grin. “yeah, a deckhead—wandering around with that stupid board like it’s your whole personality. you just can’t be serious about anything!”

a beat.

and then he laughs. suna laughs. he laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. he laughs so hard that you begin laughing too. 

suna sighs slowly, dropping his gaze to meet yours. “i didn’t realize you were genuinely getting upset. i promise i didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”

you let your head rest against your desk. “i know. i’m just frustrated because i’ve been at this for hours and it feels like i’m getting nowhere.” 

there’s a long pause before suna steps closer. “i’ll stop being a deckhead.” 

he grins and ruffles your hair. “... but only because i care.”

artist!reader who invites an incredibly eager skater!suna to one of your artsy gallery showcases. he surprises you by showing up in an actual button-down instead of his usual baggy jeans and shirts, bringing along his skater friends who also happen to be equally fond of you. upon seeing your work, they all begin hyping you up loudly, drawing eyes from surrounding exhibitions and sticking out like sore thumbs.

at one point suna leans in and whispers, "i'm pretty sure that guy over there is trying to steal your vibe."

confused, you turn to see a very serious art critic examining your painting and it takes all your effort to not burst out laughing.

skater!suna who shows up unannounced at artist!reader's studio with a blank skate deck and a set of paint markers.

"what's going on?" you'd just woken up from a nap and suna thought you looked absolutely adorable.

"empty canvas," he breathlessly replies, distracted by his newfound urge to just shrink you and keep you in his pocket. "i thought you could make it cooler." 

and he’s right because you do. 

“dude, where’d you get that?” atsumu asks, pointing at the board the next time suna is at the skatepark. 

“custom-made by that genius over there,” and suna proudly nods towards you, sat on the concrete of the park and deeply concentrated on a sketch.

artist!reader and skater!suna begin dating not through a grand confession, but just a subtle shift.

it happens when suna walks you to your class, a daily ritual that you've both become accustomed to, so it's almost instinctual the way he leans down and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. you both pause, realizing what just happened, but instead of freaking out, you're clutching onto one another from outside your classroom laughing.

from then on, there's no formal conversation about it--just a mutual understanding. 

skater!suna who asks artist!reader to paint his nails black for him because he saw someone at the skate park with painted nails and thought they looked cool. you nod excitedly and oblige. by the end, suna’s nails are decorated perfectly in black, except for his ring finger which you sneakily managed to paint pink. 

when he notices, he glares at you, “really?”

“you wear it well,” you shrug in response.

artist!reader who stumbles across a notebook in skater!suna’s backpack when he asks you to grab his phone for him. you’re curious and can’t help but flip through it to find… doodles? 

you bring it back for him, his phone long forgotten. “are these supposed to be me?” 

“woah, what the fuck! where’d you find this?!” suna snatches the notebook, immediately shutting it closed before offering you a sheepish grin. “art is hard, okay? not all of us are picasso reincarnated.”

you’re flattered he’s been doodling you in his spare time. 

skater!suna who gets oddly competitive when other skaters are present at the skate park while you’re there. he pulls off more tricks than usual (which is already a lot because he’s always trying to impress you), but looks for your approval after every single one. 

he may have gotten a little too carried away because the next second he’s slipping from his board and now he’s landed flat on his back. he groans, embarrassed while you laugh. he watches you from the ground and wonders if he should make a fool of himself more often just to hear you laugh. he doesn’t let this show and instead rolls his eyes, getting up from the ground. 

“glad you’re entertained, y/n.”

skater!suna who loves to blast his music when practicing tricks vs. artist!reader who needs the quiet to focus. 

“riiiiin! can you turn it down, please? i’m trying to concentrate.” you yell at him.

“i’m literally landing this trick for you.” he replies teasingly, turning the music up even louder. 

you end up compromising with a pair of suna’s noise-cancelling headphones and he begrudgingly lowers the volume—slightly.

KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.