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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.”

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels.

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it.

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth.

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.”

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend.

but you don’t believe that.

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces.

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes.

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.”

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards.

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel.

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it.

tonight; his prey is you.

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you.

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look.

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold.

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you.

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip.

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth.

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.”

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond.

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family.

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on. “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch.

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?”

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him.

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole.

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you.

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?”

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!”

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again.

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom.

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process.

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire.

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life.

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you.

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time.

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there.

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this.

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels.

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact.

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?”

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?”

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach.

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone.

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?”

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet.

“mph…fuck!”

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.”

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you.

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes.

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?”

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips.

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you.

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.”

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!”

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world.

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies.

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that.

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly.

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?”

“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you. “i love you, love you s’much…love you,”

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm.

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks.

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.”

“ryo!”

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain.

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?”

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.”

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.”

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with.

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.”

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that.

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shima-draws · 2 months

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I'm a couple days late but. Lusanlu Week Day 3 is done 😤 @lusanluweek

Favorite Arc | AU of Choice

Remember that Sanlu fairy AU I mentioned and then never spoke of again. Yeah this is it lmao.

Tfw you sneak into the secret garden of the Germa Kingdom even tho you were explicitly told NOT to do so and find a very pretty boy trapped inside of a birdcage

Bonus doodle of their designs under the cut ;)

Actually kind of disappointed I didn't go all out and draw more than just a bust for Sanji's POV bc that butterfly wing coat is 👌

Spicy ass design tbh. Not sure about the top but everything else is MWAH chef's kiss (Also yes he has thigh highs. I'm repeating the pattern here I know. I would say I'm sorry except I'm not)

And Luffy looks hot af in one of those classic pirate shirts. Open collar puffy sleeves sash at the waist......SLUT BEHAVIOR!! GOOD FOR HIM!!!!

I actually did take these designs from my initial goofy World Tree comic. (Or at least I took Luffy's, I didn't like Sanji's so I redid it lmao) This AU takes some basic stuff from World Tree but the plot is completely different I prommy <3

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saetoru · 2 years

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#𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru is a good ceo—but he just so happens to also be an even better boss

— pairing ⋮ ceo!gojo satoru x reader

— length ⋮ 3.3k words (why did this take me forever :/)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, ceo! au, assistant! reader, high key really shady and manipulative reader sobs, unrequited love, lovesick! gojo, unprofessional workplace relations, dry humping, blow jobs, orgasm delay, slight exhibitionism / semi-public sex (you suck him off under the table while someone is in the room + he fucks you over the desk when they leave), begging, teasing, slight brat taming, unprotected sex, he pulls out (for once LMAO), petnames (sweetheart, baby, princess)

— notes ⋮ for snow my beloveds im sucking off a ceo collab @suyacho ty for letting me join !! mwah 💋 also this is not proof read i am lazy rip

“satoru, are you done yet?” you whine, flopping over the couch in gojo’s office. of course, you’d expect nothing less than a sophisticated workspace for a sophisticated man such as him—and it’s certainly an extravagant setup, it makes for a nice atmosphere when you’re alone with him.

he grunts, the sound of his pen scratching against paper ringing through your ears as he continues writing. “ten more minutes, baby.”

“you said that hours ago,” you huff.

“‘s only been twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he chuckles, spinning his chair to face you with an amused look, “but…if you need attention so bad,” the pen finally, finally gets put down on the desk, and you brighten as his hand gestures you over, “then c’mere, baby.”

being a ceo is as anyone would deem, stressful.

and now more than ever, gojo satoru is grateful for his snowy hair—otherwise, he thinks inheriting a business as young as he has would give him white hairs before he turns thirty. but coming into his office isn’t so bad if you’re there, looking pretty in your cute little blouse and your sweet scented lip gloss, clothes neatly ironed (and ready to be creased when he’s done with you.)

you’re the perfect assistant, always sweet and responsible, always making sure he’s done what he needs to do and is where he needs to be, always good at taking notes and organizing—and, you’re always good at relieving stress.

very good, in fact.

like right now, for example, making the stress roll off his body as you climb onto his lap and press your lips to his, giving him a perfect taste of the peach flavoring of your lip gloss—which is his favorite—and making him groan against your mouth. your hands fly to his soft tufts of hair, tugging gently at the roots and making him grunt. he should be getting these last few pages of paperwork done before his meeting (which you so kindly reminded him of before he forgot), but one taste of your lips has him too distracted to care.

and plus, he’s the boss—he reasons it’s okay if he’s a little late here and there.

“baby, we gotta make it quick, yeah? ‘s an important meeting,” he mumbles against your lips, panting slightly as you nibble on his bottom lip, grinding your hips to rub your clothed cunt over his hardening member through his slacks. he’s almost too easy to rile up, too easy to have perfectly dealt into the palm of your hands. and maybe, if you play your cards right, you might just fuck your way right to a promotion—or at the very least, a raise.

in your short time being his assistant, you’ve learned that gojo satoru is almost too fun to work for. he’s young, doesn’t have those old-fashioned rules and outdated views, is lenient with hours and vacation and paid leave, and he even lets you have your own designated parking space. it’s a nice plus that he’s easy on the eyes and fucks you over his desk after hours—or during hours, if you’re being honest—and it’s an extra nice plus that he’s as quick to give into you as you are at trying to convince him.

he’s a good ceo, sure, but he’s an even better boss.

“jus’ send an email and postpone it for a bit,” you drawl sweetly, “want you, toru,” you whisper against his ear, making him moan as you rub over his hardened cock through his pants. his hands dig into your hips, guiding you to drag your cunt over his erection faster, drinking in your sweet whines as he rubs over your clit through the fabric.

and just because you’re extra sweet today—and because you really want to come in late tomorrow—you quickly climb off his lap to sink down to your knees before him, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he spreads his legs wide for you to crawl between.

“looks like you got better plans, huh sweetheart?” he grins down at you. anyone with eyes can see the lust that glazes his crystalline orbs, but you can see beneath that and recognize the fondness, the pure lovesick part that makes you swell with pride. gojo satoru is far too easy to have wrapped around your finger, and you plan on just twisting and twisting him around your well-manicured finger until he’s coiled around your every whim.

“i can think of a thing or two you might like a bit more,” you say with a giggle. he watches through hooded eyes as you unbuckle his belt, sliding the zipper down before rubbing a hand over his thigh slowly, just close enough to where he needs you—but not quite.

he throws his head back and groans. “c’mon, baby. don’t tease,” he whines, making you giggle before tapping his leg, waiting for him to raise his hips so you can pull down his pants and boxers in one go.

his cock is heavy between his legs, bobbing up and pulsing as pre cum oozes from the thick, reddened tip, making you grin as you lean in to press a delicate kiss to the head. he lets out a shaky exhale, watching as you delicately wrap a hand around him and squeeze at the tip, milking him of a bit more pre cum before smearing it over his length.

“stressed, huh? working yourself to the bone?” you pout, faux sympathy lining your expression as you stare up at him with doe eyes. “my poor toru,” you murmur—the words are saccharine, seeping with sickeningly sweet affection, it’s borderline too obvious that it’s exaggerated. you almost want to laugh at how naive he is, how easily he makes it for you to play your cards, like he almost believes you won’t play your ace even as it sits in your hand. and you put a good show of being concerned, even going as far as to press a gentle kiss to his inner thigh, making his breath hitch in his throat. his heart spasms in his chest just a little at your words.

my toru—he likes the idea of being yours.

“you have no idea, baby,” he grunts, panting as you slowly stroke him, fisting his cock and squeezing at the base. “too many things to do—just need a fuckin’ break.”

“well, you deserve a break, toru,” you hum, gently cupping his balls and giving them a light squeeze, watching as his chest heaves as he moans lowly, “so let me give you one.”

you watch happily as he greedily rolls his hips into your fist, searing the image of your boss’s lips caught between his teeth as he fights back the needy sounds threatening to bubble up his throat. you rub a thumb through his slit, twisting your hand around his swollen tip before dragging down his length with a tight grip. his forehead is a tad bit sweaty by now, his bangs clinging to the skin as his cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. gojo is pretty—too pretty. he’s certainly not immune to lingering stares and shy giggles from the other women in the office, women that could only hope to see him in the ways you do.

it thrills you, really. watching him fall apart from the slightest bit of attention from you makes your ego rocket—and perhaps, maybe your bank account too if you’re lucky.

“yeah? gonna help me relax, sweetheart?”

“yes, sir,” you grin, making him groan at your words. with that, you wrap your lips around his cock, taking him down your throat and bobbing your head up and down as you swallow around him. he chokes, hand flying to the top of your head as the other grips the arm of his chair—knuckles turning white from the tight grip.

“oh sh-shit, that’s it, sweetheart,” he whines, bucking his hips slightly and fucking into your warm mouth, moaning softly when your tongue traces over the thick vein on the underside of his cock. your hand still massages his balls slowly, the other pumping the base of his length where you can’t fit him in your mouth as your jaw slacks and you let him use you for his pleasure. “always take me so well, baby,” he breathes, “feels good—oh fuck.”

you let his hips snap up and rut into your mouth faster, slamming into the back of your throat as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, as you feel him get closer to his high, as you feel him desperately chase the friction. the heaving of his chest harshens and the labored pants get increasingly more erratic as he feels the steady ache between his legs build up until—

“sir? do you have a moment?” there’s a knock on the door, one that makes gojo’s hips still and your eyes widen. quickly, he ushers you to crawl backward, pushing his chair in to cover himself and you under his desk as he clears his throat and quickly adjusts his appearance.

“yes, come in,” he croaks, voice just a bit strained as his cock throbs, aching painfully from his orgasm dying down just before it could even hit him.

the door opens and the soft clack of heels against the floor fills the room, making your eyes narrow as you hear whoever walks through the door approach gojo’s desk.

“i was just wondering about the project you assigned me,” you hear a voice—and instantly, you roll your eyes. the new girl—whatever her name is—might as well attach herself to gojo’s hip at this rate, you think. you’ve always watched in amusement as she stalks up to him with clear hopes of his approval, always rolling your eyes and snorting at how she could only daydream about fantasies, only picture things that are your reality. but right now…right now is not the time for her to play teacher’s pet.

“r-right,” gojo stutters, “i’ll go over details with you later. kinda in a rush for a meeting soon,” he chuckles nervously, hand tapping over his unfinished pile of papers from earlier.

“oh, of course!” and you would be satisfied if not for her next words, “i’m really glad to be assigned this project, sir. i have big ideas!”

instantly your mood sours.

what a bitch, you think—it’s almost too obvious from the way her tone is far too enthusiastic and her goals are much too ambitious for a new employee for any of it to be genuine. you know a sweet-talking, rank-climbing, paycheck-grabbing employee when you see one, and you’ll be damned if some newbie thinks she can get away with that in the middle of your own attempts. with a slightly wicked grin as an idea pops into your head, you suck on the tip of gojo’s cock, making him jump slightly in his chair.

“o-oh—good to hear, i like the enthusiasm,” he grunts, hissing slightly as your hand squeezes his balls tighter. you’re cruel—sucking only at his tip, ignoring the rest of his length even as you can all but feel the ache spreading through his cock. gojo is fighting every bone in his body to keep from bucking into your mouth with his hips to feel your mouth around the rest of him—it would give away the compromising situation a little too clearly.

so instead, he clears his throat and brings a shaky hand to continue signing the papers in front of him.

“are you okay, sir?” you hear the girl ask, making you roll your eyes at the clearly fake concern in her voice, “you look a bit—”

“i’m fine,” gojo says as he cuts her off (a little too quickly) and he offers a tight smile, “just uh…the air conditionings been awful in here. nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

“oh, of course.

“like i said, i’m r-really busy—like really busy, so we’ll discuss things later, yeah?”

“oh, that sounds—” he cuts her off with a harsh exhale, head falling into his hand as he grits his teeth when you slide your tongue along his slit slowly. “are you sure you’re okay—”

“j-just a headache,” he chuckles nervously, “nothing i’m not used to. now, if you’ll—” he hisses slightly when you swirl your tongue around his tip, “e-excuse me, i really need this paperwork done.”

“right,” she says, and you feel satisfied with just a twinge of pride when you hear her clear her throat and walk to the door, “i hope you feel better, sir. looking forward to our discussion.”

with that, the door opens and then shuts—and gojo instantly lets out a shaky, whiny little moan as he slumps back into his chair, letting you swallow around him a few more times before he clenches his jaw and cups the back of your head, stopping you.

“sweetheart, that was risky,” he tuts, “what? just couldn’t wait? do i spoil you that much? i got you walkin’ around like the office princess, don’t i?” he pushes his chair back, his cock leaving your mouth, making you crawl from under his desk.

before you can even say anything, gojo has you tugged to your feet by the wrist, bending you over his desk with your chest pressed plat against the surface as he pulls your skirt and underwear off in one go, making you gasp as his searing tip is tracing along your dripping entrance and tapping at your clit. he chuckles when you wriggle your hips back, trying to steal more friction from his cock until he tightens his grip on your waist and stills your movements.

“toru, please,” you whine, pouting at him over your shoulder, making him hum as he leans down and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i pamper you too damn much,” he scoffs, “that’s why you wanted to act like a brat with someone in the room, huh? want me to fuck you like a brat too, is that it?” you only whine when he slowly teases your folds with the first few inches of his cock, slipping into you slightly before pulling back out, rubbing the wet head of his cock over your clit as you grip the edge of the desk and whimper.

“please, toru,” you pout again—but he’s not satisfied, doesn’t think he ever will be. there’s never enough of you, never enough to quench the everlasting thirst no matter how much he drinks you in.

“c’mon baby, gotta gimme more than that,” he insists, and because he’s just a little mean, he shoves himself to the hilt in one go, making you squeal at the stretch as your legs shake. he chuckles lowly, keeps his hips painfully still as you try desperately to roll your hips back onto him for something—anything. but his grip is too strong, making you sniffle as frustrated tears collect at your lashes.

“toru, need it so bad,” you plead.

“need what? i wanna hear it,” he grins, “brats like you have to earn it, sweetheart. otherwise i’ll just sit here with my cock in you as i finish my paperwork. bet you’d like that too, though,” he laughs lowly, just a bit too smug.

“want you to fuck me,” you sob, clit throbbing and pussy clenching down on his still cock as it curves into you just right. “right over your desk—wanna cum for you, want you to make a mess. please? please toru? always fuck me so good,” you add, making him twitch in your walls at your words.

he groans, cursing under his breath at how quickly you turn the tables, so fast to turn him from smug to impatient as he all but pulls out before slamming himself deep into your tight cunt, making you mewl as his fat tip kisses against your sweet spot. he grunts, hands digging into your hips with a bruising grip as he feels your walls hug around him tightly.

“f-fuck, gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he curses, rolling his hips as he bullies his length into your pussy over and over, the thick veins running along his shaft dragging against your walls, making your head spin and your spine burst with jolts of pleasure. “you like when i fuck you like this? bet you wish someone would walk in just to see you stuffed full of my cock, wouldn’t you? want them to see you get special treatment like the little princess you are?” he pants against your neck, hunched over your back as he continues to slam into you.

you writhe under him, gasping as he splits you open with his cock, stretching your walls with his thick girth as his balls clap against your ass. it’s loud—the lewd, squelching of his length fucking into you and the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with both of your moans. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear exactly what’s going on—but somehow, that only excites you more, making an ache run through your core that only the harsh thrusts of gojo’s hips can soothe.

“oh—toru, toru, more,” you wail, letting out a high-pitched whine when his hand trails over your hips to find your clit, fingers rubbing harsh circles over the sensitive bud. your legs quiver, the ache of your building orgasm between your legs clouding your vision and fogging your mind. you can’t think straight—can’t even comprehend that you’re screaming your boss’s name in the same building all your coworkers are in as well. “fuck, feels good—so, good,” you babble, thrusting your hips back and making him curve deeper into you.

“yeah? that feel good, baby? then cum for me,” he pants into your ear, moaning softly as you clench down on him at the words, almost making it impossible for him to move with how tightly you flutter around him. “wanna feel you cum around me, sweetheart,” he groans, “please, gotta feel you—give it to me, princess.”

“toru! ‘m c-close, toru,” you say through breathy pants, and with that, you break, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave as your mouth parts with a silent sob. gojo fucks into you through your high, tip slamming precisely against your sweet spot, making you gasp with each thrust, crying his name as the sensation borders on too much. his fingers are still working your clit, and as your hips twitch away from his touch from the overstimulation as you finish. he chokes on a gasp, cock twitching in you and indicating he’s just about to cum.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—’m gonna cum, princess. g-gonna make me cum for you, sweetheart,” he whines, and with one more thrust, he pulls out of your warmth, hissing before pumping himself with his fist, stroking himself tight and fast as he falls over the edge and spills his seed across your ass. you feel the sticky ropes of cum paint your skin as gojo whimpers with each load that shoots from his tip, hips thrusting into his fist as he fucks himself through his high. “god—feels so good, baby. sh-shit.”

he finishes, slumping back onto his chair behind him, legs wobbly and weak as his chest rises and falls with each labored pant. you both catch your breaths, your body still sprawled over his desk as rolls his chair closer to you, hands rubbing slowly up and down the sides of your hips.

“fuck, you’re something else, babe,” he chuckles quietly, “just what i needed before my meeting.” you grin to yourself as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the side of your hip—and you think you have him just where you want him.

“toru, ‘m gonna need to come in late tomorrow,” you mumble softly, taking the opportunity while you can, “and i need a few days off next week, kay?”

“of course, sweetheart,” he says instantly, mind still hazed from the post-orgasm bliss, making your eyes sparkle in victory.

“thank you,” you giggle happily, “you’re my favorite boss i’ve ever had, you know?” and you can almost see the lovesick and pathetically giddy little grin he lets stretch across his lips from behind you.

“well, anything for my princess,” he hums happily, blissfully unaware of you reeling him tighter and tighter around your finger.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

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chinesefirethorn · 2 months

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THE KAGES AND THEIR GREEN BEASTS

But a modern day AU take with the whole family and the ninken! Ningame is chilling at home, thank you very much. :) This thing took much longer to sketch and color than I anticipated. Hahhhh hahahaha.

Headcanons and easter eggs after the cut

RasaDai: Is it crack? Yes. Is it impossible? Yes, yes, they’re both dead. Do I still ship them? HELL YES. My old old man yaoi (crack) rarepair. Rasa inherits the nearly bankrupt firm from his deceased bastard of a father, and had to devote his whole life to work. He loses Karura after she gives birth to Gaara, and now he’s a single dad whose grown up kids hate his guts. Can this old man still find love with an older DILF? Except he’s definitely not going to wear that green tracksuit. (also that’s Suna designer wear on Rasa and Pakkun’s carrier)

KakaGai: These boys. These men. Husbands, rivals, friends, eternal loves. Kakashi with his jorts and baby pink crocs 😂 (thanks @urieskooki for the color pick) with ANBU gibbets. Gai with Daytime Tiger-inspired shoes! I love having Bisuke perching on Gai and adopting his sparkles ✨. Kakashi giving Gai the ‘I’m pinning you down later’ look. Also, if you really want to know what Kakashi’s reading, check the tags. ;)

GaaLee: My loves, my babies 🥰 Okay I gave Gaara his Shippuden pants bands and his shoes are gourd inspired. He’s excited to finally get to hold a puppy and promptly carries the meanest-looking one (Urushi, surprised, gives a tentative tail wag). In the meantime, Lee has their snacks and drinks ready ❤️ The man is smitten with Gaara. He is composing love songs for him as we speak. He’s also rocking dragon-print kicks (I used my own dragon design from the CNY card).

The Ninken: Ok some headcanons. All the dogs were adopted by Kakashi, except for Pakkun who was his dad’s pet before he died. Pakkun prefers to ride in his carrier than to walk in his older years. Akino, being partially blind, sticks close to his emotional support dog (Pakkun). Shiba is giving puppy eyes to Rasa in case he can get pets. Guruko being a naughty baby running between people’s legs. Bull is just chilling with his new collar—Kakashi replaced the spikes with pompoms for comfort. Uhei likes Lee best and stays close to him.

This image wouldn’t have been completed without encouragement and feedback from @egregiousderp @bayheart @urieskooki Glugchat and the good people who enable me at the KakaGai discord. Mwah love you all.

#rasadai #rasa has daddy issues #sabaku no rasa #maito dai #maito gai #kakashi hatake #kakagai #gaalee #gaara #rock lee #kakashi’s book reads I fuck my husband every night: a novel #crackship gone real #my nart ships

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love-fictional-ppl · 2 months

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OH MY LORD PLEASE DO MORE ABOUT STONER BAKUSQUAD THAT WAS 'mwah' chefs kiss

xoxoxooxox thank you sm if you do xoxooxox

Omgg yesss I love stoner bakusquad. Tyy for the request loveeee

.·:*¨¨*:·. 𖣁 .·:*¨¨*:·.

Part 2 of this

༺♡︎༻

Summary: reader and quirkless au!Bakusquad are stoners

Pairings: platonic!katsuki bakugou x gn!bisexual!reader, platonic!Eijiro Kirishima x gn!bi!reader, platonic!pan!Denki Kaminari x gn!bi!reader, platonic!plug!hanta sero x gn!bi!reader, platonic!bi!mina ashido x gn!bi!reader, Eijiro Kirishima x bi!mina ashido, past!Hanta sero x bi!mina ashido, pan!Denki Kaminari x bi!plug!hitoshi Shinso

Warnings: language, Marijuana duh, vaping, alcohol, making out, shrooms, OF, masturbation, etc.

A/n: I was personally geeked writing part 1, so I forgot to actually include the vaping part lol. If you don’t know who Harold and kumar are, watch the movies.

༺♡︎༻

Ok so to start off, Sero’s day/night Job is deejaying. He’s actually really good at it. A lot of people would think this job would go to Denki but nope.

Speaking of Denki, he actually is a streamer. He reacts to people’s videos and plays horror games. He plays a lot of Roblox too.

Bakugou likes Sam & Colby. He’s liked them since trap boys. Honestly his favorite trap boy is Corey tho.

When Mina drinks she gets the spins really bad and throws up. Every single time. Without hesitation.

Denki cries sometimes when he’s drunk.

Kirishima greened out at the first smoke sesh.

Mina is seriously super horny when she messed up. She even convinced bakugou to make out with her while he was super stoned

Denki started vaping when you guys were in sophomore year, he eventually put u all on.

Bakugou had to bail Sero out of jail once, Sero was pulled over while he was making a delivery

Mina makes Kirishima take her to concerts, he trip sits her while she takes shrooms

Sero likes to watch cartoon network and adult swim when he’s stoned

Eventually, Shinso and Denki get together. You all excepted Shinso practically immediately, and invited him to the smoke seshs

Mina buys pink joint papers. The guys hate when she rolls up with them, except for Denki he loves them<3

Mina has an only fans. She isn’t embarrassed by it either. Denki has also watched her videos while jerking off

During smoke sesh’s you guys like to watch South Park. Sero likes to laugh and compare bakugou to cartman.

Sero has a unhealthy amount of bongs

Kirishima is the designated driver for after the hangouts. Whoever doesn’t just sleepover, he gives a ride.

Kirishima always makes a crap ton of snack when him and Mina host. Mina doesn’t like hosting tho.

Depending on how high bakugou is, he will let you play with his hair. It’s actually so soft.

Denki and Sero almost got kidnapped by Sero’s plug one time. It was Denki’s fault, he tried to still the guy’s knife.

Sero loves Shinso’s cat especially when he’s stoned he says he’s the group scooby doo. Shinso is forced to bring muffins(the cat) every time

Shinso also sells weed so Sero claims they’re competitors

Denki is so girly with his vapes it’s funny. Like this boy will kill for a minty Hyde. He also always has to tear apart his bed just to find the shit.

I think everybody agree and say bakugou and kirishima drink whiskey. Grown ahh ahh men💀

Bakugou literally will catnap when he is baked. He likes to sleep with his head on your thighs

Kirishima always brings blunt wraps since you and Denki always forgets to buy them. Baby boy kiri is a angel🥹😇

Reach in Sero’s couch cushions and you will find a kingdom of lighters

Denki says him and Sero are Harold And Kumar. Denki and you love those movies.

Sero’s kitchen is stocked on all your favorite foods and drinks.

༺♡︎༻

Not Proofread!

#my hero academia #katsuki bakugo mha #mha denki #mha x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakusquad #stoner!bakusquad #mina ashido x reader #mina ashido #plug!hanta sero #sero hanta x reader #kirimina #shinkami #plug!hitoshi Shinso #denki kaminari #denki x reader #kirishima eijirou #sero hanta

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satorhime · 2 years

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˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ SECRET-GO-ROUND | ˚｡ nanami kento x female reader ᨀ minors do not interact˓˓WORD COUNT ᨀ 7.8k˓˓ furueru kuchibiru!retelling, college!au, professor!nanami, uni student!reader, bratty!reader, age gap (nanami is in mid/late 30s, reader is in 20s), teacher-student relationships, carnival dates, a sprinkle of fluff 'n' angst, public sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, quickie on a ferris wheel, creampies, money shots, sensei kink, anal play, fingering, degradation + reader is a lil manipulative. @SYNOPSIS ᨀ kento is in a secret relationship with his student, but when he loses a bet to her, he has to take her on their first date in public. @SATORHIME SAID ᨀ this is my first long fic since the spring and i'm so excited for u to read it !! (/ε＼*) i hope u babies enjoy this nasty lil piece i cooked up in my candy store MWAH !!

nanami kento is a hypocrite.

he demands professionalism and punctuality from his students and he does not believe in making mistakes that can be avoided in life. his entire day would be ruined if he walked down a sidewalk and stepped in chewing gum when he could have taken the train, yet he detests tardiness. he grimaces at late assignments, typos in emails, and clucks his tongue at mispronounced words during oral presentations, even though, out of every faculty member and student at the university, he may be the one making the biggest mistake of them all.

it's surprising because nanami conforms to the standard. he studied law because he respected the structure of rules and resonated with upholding order and justice. he takes the moral high ground above his immature colleagues who refuse to grow up even though they're well past the age of thirty. much to nanami's delight, they stopped inviting him out on weekends because he couldn't stop sneering in disgust at their conversation, threatening to report toji, satoru, and suguru after they attempted to coax him into their long running competition of letting their good looks and expensive doctorates seduce starry-eyed students into fucking them for sport; tallying up each other's scores from their game like athletes every monday morning.

but yes, nanami kento is still a hypocrite.

because he is the only one with a student walking around his apartment half-naked right now.

of course, nanami knows better than that. he barely dated through his long years of school, too focused on hanging up degree after degree in his parents’ living room to have time for anything more than a couple of flings and failed dates. and now four years into his tenure, a brilliant professor with a heap of accolades under his designer belt, he fell in love with you, his pretty little student.

he doesn’t know how it happened when the two of you are complete opposites— nanami is a jaded homebody that rejects human interaction and you are a firecracker full of energy in constant need of his attention. it wasn't even supposed to happen, but it's been a downward spiral of forbidden feelings since that one fucking evening you stayed behind after class to discuss your law research paper with him. you'd ended up hitting it off— you found nanami handsome, confident, and easy to talk to. confiding in him about your worries over getting good grades and making your family proud, and somehow that conversation ended with you being fucked over his desk for the first time. in truth, he had expected you to have your fill of a fantasy you wanted to play out and skip onto the next after that, but you didn’t seem to care about any of the other boys who looked at you around campus.

instead, you were satisfied with wriggling your way into his heart, one swish of your plush hips at a time.

you’ve wriggled your way into his home as well, peeking your head curiously into his bedroom now. you find nanami still asleep on his back— his legs tangled in the bamboo sheets and one muscled arm thrown across his handsome features, shielding his eyes from the light beams. your eyes rove over his shirtless form, the morning sun illuminating the chiseled grooves of his toned abs— catching onto the fine dusting of golden hairs over his adonis belt. though he ignores the silly effect he has on you and the other students, your professor is easily the most beautiful man on campus and you could stare at him all day.

but not right now. a pout shapes your lips in disappointment because you rarely see nanami anymore. he’s busier than ever now between classes starting back up at the university, the cases he handles at the firm, and writing his faculty book. today is the first day he’s been free in almost a month, and he plans on sleeping the entire day away? that won’t do.

you tiptoe into the room, crawling onto the pillowy mattress to straddle nanami’s narrow hips. the warm weight rouses him, but his eyes remained shut, a soft groan rumbling behind his ribcage.

“it’s too early for you to be in my lap, little love,” his voice is rough and syrupy with sleep, making you suck your bottom lip into your mouth at the sound of it— but you’re determined not to let his attractiveness ruin your plan for the day. “come on, get off.”

“well, it’s too late for you to still be in bed, damn it,” you huff, peeling his arm away from his face to cup his cheeks. you watch as horizontal lines appear in his forehead, and you hurry to continue, “today is your day off, kento-sensei. i was thinking.. maybe- let’s go out on a date!”

nanami’s café au lait eyes flicker open with a speed that startles you, fixed on your pretty face. you’re wearing his shirt and there’s a pillow mark on your cheek, hair messy from sleep. he feels his chest cave in because there’s nothing he wants more than to take you out to see the world and share your beauty with it. instead, a weary sigh exhales from his nostrils and it sounds like a declination.

“you’re going to say no, aren’t you?”

“yes, you know that we cannot be seen together. what will you do if someone recognizes one of us?”

“we’re a couple, aren’t we? why are you always so worried about someone seeing us. c’mon, kento-sensei- i want to go to the carnival that's in town. we can even wear disguises!” you try reasoning with him melodramatically, but kento simply shakes his head at your antics.

“i’m sorry, love, but there is too much at stake, for the both of us,” nanami says, squeezing your hip in apology. you frown— you hate being coddled by him.

“too much at stake? like your tenure? is that really the most important thing to you?”

“i won’t have this conversation again,” he clips sternly, propping his torso up on one elbow to narrow his sharp eyes at you. “when your classmates start rumors about you fucking me for extra credit, will going out on a date really be worth that? i’m thinking about your reputation, not mine.”

“i don’t want you to think of my reputation, i want you to treat me like your woman,” you roll your eyes. it’s always the same argument. while nanami is content to hide your relationship in shaded alcoves and apartments with the curtains drawn, you want to love him openly. to run errands with him and sit in sunny windows at cute little cafés with him— to not have to lie at sleepovers with your friends when they ask who is the one who is making you so happy.

nanami’s silence is degrading, frustration simmering up in your chest. a deeper frown twists your features as you reach for a fluffy feather pillow, gripping both ends and swinging it down— aiming right for nanami’s head.

he knocks the pillow away easily, unamused. “what are you, an infant?”

“argh, you’re so annoying. fine then, have it your way!” you grumble, but then your big doe eyes glint mischievousness in them. nanami can only watch with a lifted brow as you reach for the buttons of your (his) shirt, unbuttoning them quickly with trembling hands. your heart picks up to thump excitedly as you slip one side of the shirt apart, letting the fabric pool in the crook of your elbow— revealing pebbled nipples to your professor’s confused eyes. you gently cup one of your breasts teasingly, a minx. “let’s do it this way instead.”

“and what way is that? are you trying to bribe me, young lady?” he snorts, but his eyes flicker down to the soft swell of your breasts, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallows.

you nibble your lip as you sit on your knees between his legs to paw the sheets covering his hips out of the way.

“obviously my bribery’s working since you’re already hard,” you tease in a saccharinely sweet voice. kento prefers sleeping in expensive silks with nothing underneath so your eyes are immediately drawn to the very visible print of his erection. you cup the bulge of his cock gently, palming it against your hand— little cunt pulsing greedily as you feel it twitch under your touch, nanami hissing under his breath.

the pit of his stomach lurches traitorously because he knows what your mushy little brain is up to— whenever he refuses to let you get your way, you’ll be reaching to hold his cock in your hand as if it is a genie that can grant all of your wishes.

one of these days, you will drive him insane.

especially when you’re humming sweetly as if you're folding laundry, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his ankles. the heavy strain of his cock plops against his abdomen. you grab for it, marveling at how tiny your hand looks compared to it. honestly, nanami’s cock is just so fucking pretty to you that you long to tell all of your girlfriends about it— thick and weighty, a little darker than his body with a dusky tip that leaks so much. maybe you would leave out the detail that without proper preparation, his cock stretches you out painfully. tears and snot and limps in your walk whenever he fucks you.

“oh, it’s leaking,” you simper breathlessly, throat running dry.

“don’t be crass,” he scolds, but you ignore him to stare in wonderment at the way the bulbous head is drooling precum in a steady trickle, smearing over your hand as your thumb rubs against a thick vein. you go slippery, wet between the thighs at the thought of sucking it into your mouth, basking in the way his hips give a little jolt as you touch him. but other than that, he regards you with a flat look. “so what are you planning, hmm? tell me.”

“i want to make a bet with you,” you lower your face until you’re level with his crotch, opening up and lolling your cherry tongue out invitingly. nanami inhales a serrated breath as your soft lips sucks the tip of his cock into your little mouth, sampling his taste.

“how about this?” you continue, fluttering your lashes as you breathe in the masculine scent of his cock. he tastes good, sweet precum bursting over your tastebuds as you pause to swipe your tongue into the slit. you can't even wait, suckling down on the tip greedily, pausing between licks to speak. “if you can keep yourself from cumming until.. eleven ‘o clock then i’ll drop the idea of going on a date, but if you can’t… you have to take me to the street carnival. pretty please?”

he pauses to think about it for the longest, and you roll your eyes, scraping your teeth ever so lightly against the underside of his length to bring his attention back to you, earning a dirty look in reward.

“i’m offended you think i’ll lose,” he snorts, but the way his hips kick as you kitten lick over the slit of his tip makes you smile. you're already winning. “i’m an adult, little darling. i know how to control myself.”

“oh yeah?” you coo, challenging him by tilting your head down with an open mouth, warm and wet on the wide girth of nanami’s cock— drawing him in against hollowed cheeks, lathering him down in saliva that smells like mint and morning coffee. you reel back, hard on the pull up before slurping him back down in a slow mouth fuck.

he tosses his head back with a deep huff from his nostrils, hand twitching on the bed. sometimes you hate how quiet nanami is. on some nights, after he is forced to watch boys flirt with you around campus while you’re dressed in tiny little shorts and slutty little skirts, he’ll toss you on his mattress and fuck filthy lies into you about sitting you on his cock in front of all 40 students in his course and claiming you as his girl, growling in your ear until you’re splashing his sheets with cum and crying into his shoulder because you want it so bad. but during times when you’re being bratty, he never rewards your bad behavior with the praise you work on your knees for.

you briefly glance at the clock on the nightstand.

10:32 AM

“gonna cum yet, nanami-sensei?” you tease on the release, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in your spit. you smile up at him with precum on your teeth, blinking coquettishly as you let his cock plop against his abdomen, flattening your tongue to lick long stripes up and down the length of his cock. “it’s okay if you want to let go of it, i’ll catch every last drop of your cum.”

“i’m not going to fucking cum,” nanami snaps, gritting his jaw. his eyes are narrowed and though he looks unimpressed and obstinate, he frays at the seams. “are you so hungry that you’ll eat my cum? stop this childishness and i’ll make you breakfast then.”

“mm-! that won’t work,” you giggle at his weak attempt, before sinking your mouth back down on his cock, nose buried in the sandy hairs around the base. digging your fingernails into the olive skin at his thighs when the tip of his cock bumps against your fleshy throat, gagging around him as you struggle to swallow around the thickness lodged in your throat. mouth too small to accommodate the size of his fat girth. your cheeks are so cute, too— chubby with the strain, but you’re determined, even as thick precum drools down the back of your tongue and you choke, gurgling and flexing your tongue to greedily swallow it down.

he’s always sensitive in the morning, waking up with his stiff erection pressed shamefully between your ass cheeks so you know exactly how to work him, a sweltering suction around his leaking cock. burning hot pleasure right into the pit of his gut. his fingers fist in the sheets and he looks so fucking ruined in the morning sun with his jaw slacked, neck blotchy and bursting with veins from the strain of holding off his grunts of pleasure— holding off his cum too. “j-jesus fuck, love. that’s it-”

this time, nanami is the one desperately searching for the red glare of the alarm clock, eyes wildly reading the numbers.

10:47 AM

thirteen minutes left. if he can just—

“don’t pretend you don’t feel good, kento-sensei,” you giggle as you reel back to breathe, swirling your tongue over the tip of his sticky cock. he grunts, his hips jolting desperately. “i know all of your weak spots, after all.”

the law professor bristles, panting as he glares down at you.

“don’t look at me like that… i just wanna make you feel good,” your aggressiveness isn't new to him. though usually you’re gooey in the head, on your back with legs splayed, letting him do whatever he wants to you— there are times like right now when you’re dipping further down to suck on his balls, weighty and full with cum, sending nanami’s hips into a frenzy. his hard cock slaps against your forehead as his hips jerk up, but you wrap your hand around it— pumping him quickly.

“fuck, i…”

“duh-oh, i’m running oush of time,” you mumble as you suck greedily on one of his balls, watching the clock.

10:57 AM

“what are you-”

“you liked it when i did this, right sensei?” you hum, melodic voice like a siren on a shipwrecked shore, luring him in. devilish mouth smiling sweet as you’re committing sin, lowering further to play your dirty tricks on him— spreading one of nanami’s ass cheeks apart to swirl your tongue around the rim of his hole at the same time you squeeze his cock painfully.

“d-don’t, darling. fuck… you’re going to make me-”

his reaction is immediate, a big fist twisting in your hair to shove your head away from him but it’s too late. above you, nanami punches out a grunt that sounds ruined, the spongy wetness of your tongue teasing at his puckered hole combined with your firm hand pumping his cock in a steady rhythm is too much. he loses the bet with the back of his head shoved into the pillow, thighs twitching from the shocks of pleasure as long ropes of cum splashes onto your face in white strings, dripping wet down your cheeks.

when he shoves your head away, you sit back on your heels— beaming up at him with the prettiest smile of triumph, covered in his cum.

“that’s that,” you tease, “should i wear my white or pink dress?”

“we’re only staying for a short while,” nanami announces with an exasperated sigh, even as he fastens the neon pink unlimited rides! armband around your wrist. when he finishes, you beam and hook your hand into the crook of his arm— scoping out the attractions. “where do you want to go first?”

the last day of the traveling carnival is crowded. an annual late summer tradition in your city, it never fails to draw out the numbers on weekends. lovesick couples share kisses, dining on overpriced treats. exhausted families push around strollers with wailing babies inside of them while teenagers shove each other in the queues for thrill rides, pop music blasting through the speakers. it’s a risk, the kind of location nanami would have avoided for a first official date with his student, for fuck’s sake, but he hates seeing your looks of disappointment.

he much prefers the way you look right now— drunk on the scent of buttery popcorn and sugary cotton candy— a devastating figment of his dreams, dressed in a little white chiffon sundress that whirls around your thighs with each movement. your eyes twinkling in glee behind the shades perched on your nose at the colorful tents, fast rides, and rows of sideshows.

“let’s try out one of the sideshows first?” you suggest, pointing excitedly to the striped canopy stalls lined up on one row of the carnival, adorable prizes sitting on shelves behind carnies enticing passersby to try their luck at strength tests, shooting games, hook-a-duck and skeeball for cheap prices. “you could use a win after this morning.”

“does that mouth of yours ever know how to be quiet?” nanami wonders wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose out of habit as rosy flush creeps above the collar of his shirt. “lead the way if you’re finished making fun of me.”

rolling your eyes, you tug him by the arm over to a shooting range. colorful balloons line up in many neat rows. the carnie behind the stall brightens up at new victims, his smile missing several teeth as he gestures to the game— holding up a handful of sharp darts in invitation.

“good evenin’, good evenin’ to the lovely couple! interested in trying your luck in pop-a-balloon? all ya hafta do is aim and throw. hitting five red ones in a row wins the largest prizes,” he markets, “yer fella looks like he’s got a good arm on ‘em too. whaddya say?”

“it’s an obvious scam they’re running. the red ones are the smallest,” kento points out under his breath, but you shoot a glare at him, nudging him forward. he sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts to retrieve his wallet, slapping a crisp ten on the wooden counter. “fine.”

“good choice! take these darts ‘n’ give it yer best shot, buddy,” the carnie pockets the bill, handing the darts to nanami and stepping safely out of the way.

“alright, which one do you want, darling?”

“the big one,” you grin.

“of course you do,” the male purses his lips, folding up the sleeves of his shirt before he takes the darts. it’s attractive the way his forehead creases, concentration narrowing his eyes behind his green tinted sunglasses. he knows games like this are rigged, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully analyzing the balloons because you want the prize and he’ll do anything for you. it’s easy math, calculating the distance between his stance and the target wall— stretching a visual line across the tiny red balloons.

the first dart strikes out, bursting the balloon with a startling pop. you clap your hands happily in support, a greedy pang of want twinging in your lower belly as you watch his biceps ripple with the movement as the rest of the balloons bursts easily until he's out of darts— game over.

“congrats, man, y’ didn’t embarrass yer girl,” the carnie jokes, but you can tell he isn’t happy about the quick and easy win. “which one d’ you want, miss? top’s yours to choose from.”

“that one,” your eyes sparkle, pointing to the large pompompurin prize in that adorable little suit. you’re handed the fat plush that dwarfs your frame, squeezing it to your body in delight. “it looks like you, nanamin!”

“oh? should i be worried about the competition?”

“please, no one can ever replace you.”

you say it with a teasing smile, but nanami hates the way his heart stutters, even as his mind screams that he isn’t supposed to be here with you, entertaining your girlish affections, in love with you beyond repair.

but as the sun relaxes the sky into a dreamsicle orange, so does the weight on nanami’s shoulders. he still keeps his eyes sharp for familiar bodies, but he finds it harder to resist your energy— letting you take his hand to drag him around the rest of the carnival grounds to various attractions. spending his money on sticky cotton candy, powdery funnel cake and customized couple items. forcing him to accompany you on your favorite rides, too— rollercoasters and carousels and tilt-a-whirls until the two of you are dizzy and windswept.

“you looked relaxed,” you hum over the noise of thrill ride chains clanking together and carefree laughter in the background, tucked comfortably under kento’s arm as the two of you wait behind three other couples in the queue for the ferris wheel— your favorite and final stop before the date finally ends.

“i don’t have to work today,” he replies dryly, but his thin lips quirk up as if he wants to smile.

“that’s the only reason? ken, you’re so boring.”

you really have a terrible habit of not letting him finish his sentences, he thinks.

“wah, i wish we could do this everyday!” you cheer, cuddled up against nanami’s warm side as the ferris wheel begins to move, ascending higher into the sky as the large capsules sway in the breeze calmly.

nanami simply nods in reply as he stares out of the window of the enclosed gondola, the giant pompompurin he won for you balanced comically on one of his knees. the view is breathtaking from up here. people strolling around the carnival grow smaller, the winking lights on top of the tents nothing more than tiny fireflies in the late summer night from this height. so high above the world who would judge you, it’s easy to forget decorum and feel like a normal couple.

it even has kento completely at ease, sighing peacefully and believing that nothing could ruin the peaceful moment of bliss between the two of you up here—

until the ride jeers and jolts to a hard stop, swinging the capsules violently.

you hear a crackling noise from the speaker attached to one of the beams.

“attention all ride passengers!” the teenager operating the ride speaks into the staticky intercom with mildly contained panic. “we’re experiencing a malfunction and will have the ride working after a short while. please remain seated and do not open your capsule door. thank you!”

“just grand,” nanami purses his lips in disapproval before his eyes slide over to you, reaching over to draw you closer. “are you alright?”

but where he expects to be met with your apprehension, your answering smile is a twinkling constellation of giddiness and opportunity. after all, how could you be afraid when you’re stuck at the top of the world with the most attractive man born into it? looking at him right now means thinking of nothing else anyway. he looks good out of a suit with the outdoors on him— hair mussed up and sweat staining his pristine white linen shirt. you think about earlier today when you whined at him about lacking romance until he agreed to eat cotton candy from your fingertips, melted sugar crusted against your digits as nanami licked and suckled obscenely on purpose until your panties were embarrassingly damp.

knowing this date out in the open with him will likely be your last, you plan on making the best of it until the very end.

“h-hey, sensei?” you call for him, warmth blooming over your cheeks at the sudden idea pushing to the forefront of your mind.

“mhm?”

“didn’t seeing me in this pretty dress today make you want to fuck me?”

“don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he replies flippantly, but you don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that rattles through the quiet gondola that betrays his answer. you looked like an angel of sin the entire day in your little white dress. how many times did that fucking hem flutter above your thighs in the wind as you carelessly bounced around, giving him a flash of your cotton panties? how many times did he have to yank it down before another man got a look at his girl— “i hardly noticed it.”

“i could show you now,” you hum softly, never satiated. you rest your chin on his shoulder, fingers playing along the top of his thigh. “you could fuck me right here and no one would know. we’ll be here for a while…”

“you force me to come on this date with you during my day off, now you want sex too? you’ve been hanging around frat boys too much,” he deadpans, but his cock twitches in traitorous interest against his inner thigh at your nasty little proposition. it’s hardly appropriate and he shouldn’t allow you to crawl onto your knees and plop right into his lap, but nanami can never find the willpower to deny you whenever you desire something that he can provide. “need i remind you that we’re in public? what are you-”

“don’t be mean to me, sensei. i didn’t get to cum this morning, you know,” you whine childishly with a blubbery pout to goad him. you’ve always been insatiable and greedy, the simple thought of being stuck at the top of a ferris wheel with nothing else to do but wait to be rescued swirling a lusted ache into your cunt for him, needy and pulsing.

“if we would’ve stayed home per my suggestion, i would’ve taken care of this here,” he tuts, his voice clipped and hard as he gestures to the way you’re already squirming against his thigh. “you just can’t wait for me, can you? even after class, you always have to sit on my cock before we get home. what am i going to do with you?”

“i-i can’t help it,” you bundle the hem of your dress against your hips as you lean back, the center of your panties soaked and sticky wet between your puffy lips. he can’t see the damp patch waiting there for him, but he can feel it. wetting the cloth of his shorts down where you squirm and wriggle. the lights on the beams of the ferris wheel rotate into the gondola, flashing neon rainbows across your and nanami’s features in the quiet dark, allowing you to see the way his honey brown eyes darken to black.

“stop thinking so much for once and pass the time with me,” you continue, purring the words against his neck. you move closer, your breasts pressed up against the damp linen of his shirt as you run your tongue over the sharp cut of his jawline, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and tom ford aftershave. your next move is the last bit of convincing he needs, fingers slipping between the gap of your bodies to palm the fat line of his growing erection. “y-you’ll fuck me, right nanami?”

nanami grits his teeth as he feels his cock thicken in arousal, staving off a groan. his fingertips itch with the desire to touch you. he doesn’t know what has the biggest affect on him right now— the high altitude, the memory of your cute little throat struggling to swallow around him first thing in the morning, or just you in general. wearing a sundress shorter than some of his work shirts and begging him to fuck you on a ferris wheel.

“come here, pretty little thing,” nanami murmurs huskily, squishing his big fingers into your soft cheeks to draw your lips to his for a kiss. he never fails to make stars bust behind your eyelids when he touches you— bold and bratty until you’ve gotten your way and he’s in the lead, letting you squirm on his lap. your cunt gushes at the kiss alone, warm and wet and forbidden as nanami tongues over your bottom lip— sucking it into his mouth, kissing you to a swell until you open for him obediently and he’s fully in control. searing licks of his tongue as he explores you.

the kiss is sloppy, just how you like it. challenging a clean-cut man like nanami who lives by the book into swallowing your soft whines and moans, into swapping strings of bubbly spit that tastes like cotton candy and caramel apples.

“you’re so messy, even in public,” he chides, breaking the kiss to give you room to breathe but you chase it, nipping his upper lip with your teeth hard, nanami grunting low in his chest before you soothe the sting with your tongue. he pinches your chin between his fingers, twisting your head to the side to redirect his mouth to your neck. he knows better, but you cloud his judgment— murk up the waters of his mind as he fastens his lips onto a spot against your neck, suckling at the skin until the capillaries burst and his mark blooms slow.

“o-oh-”

“you’re even messier down here, aren’t you? filthy girl, how long have you been this wet?” he groans lecherously, fitting a hand between your spread legs and his thigh so he can twist the front of your ruined cotton panties against his fist, drawing them upwards so the damp fabric wedges painfully against the seam of your unused cunt.

“that h-hurts, ken,” you whine, but it whispers off into a blissful sigh as nanami shifts the fabric, rubbing raw against your slit. with his free hand, he tugs the sweetheart neckline of your dress to press wet kisses over your chest with a hum.

“i’ve got you, darling. i’ll take care of it- make it all better,” he promises, and just as he’s about to jerk your panties to the side and put his fingers on your pussy, the intercom crackles in a tinny screech—

the two of you startle, chests heaving breathlessly and hearts thumping tandemly in erratic rhythms.

“attention all ride passengers,” the voice is unfamiliar, clearing their throats before continuing, “the ride will be back in working condition in an estimate of thirty minutes. thank you for your patience and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

thirty minutes.

“n-nanami-sensei, h-hurry up! please, before-” you whisper out in a frantic breath, fumbling for the loops of his belt to unbuckle it.

“hush, i promised i would take care of it,” he grunts, as unhurried as ever as he swoops his head down and fastens his lips around your nipple over the material of your sundress, suckling the bud until he feels it peak against his tongue, until the fabric is soaked in his spit and your pussy clenches hungrily in need. he nibbles at the bud, torturing you— pinching it between his teeth, bringing irritated tears to your eyes at the little twinges of pain. “alright now. i want you to take my cock out and rub it through your messy little slit, can you do that for me?”

“can i sit on it?” you flutter your glistening eyelashes at him as he reels back, leaning against the bench of the capsule, letting you twiddle the buttons of his shirt apart first— revealing golden skin and the ripples of his washboard abs before you continue, sliding the zipper down on his shorts. kento’s cock is fully hard when you draw it against your palm, warm and twitching when you squeeze it experimentally.

“what did i teach you? haste is the enemy of quality.”

“god, y… you’re so annoying,” the gondola is too dark to see, but you know what it looks like from memory alone. his cock bounces between the two of you, slapping against your belly button, the mushroom tip leaking foggy droplets down the thick shaft. your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around it firmly, spreading tacky precum as you pump him slowly.

he tugs your panties to one side as you lift up just a little, letting nanami’s cock bend along the line of his thigh— long and hard under your ass when you sit down against it. he knows that the two of you are running out of time; he can’t tease you like he does at home or in his office after hours, boring you with philosophical quotes or quizzing you with topics you don’t pay attention to in his class and forcing you to sit on his cock for hours when you answer incorrectly. drool floods your mouth at the delicious friction as you hump your pussy over his cock desperately, wetting him down in strings of slick; your puffy clit rubbing against the flared head, but it's not enough.

“n-nanami-sensei, c-c’mon, this isn’t fair-” you pant into the crook of his neck, oversensitive and strung out, swiveling your hips in a slow circle, grinding your clit down hard until it feels sore.

“what isn’t fair, little darling?” nanami chuckles in amusement, but he sounds like ruination, voice gravel on stone. he slips the straps of your sundress from your shoulders to press kisses to your heated skin. he forces the fabric down further, just until one of your nipples are exposed and he can wrap his lips around the bare skin, suckling it against his tongue. he drags his cock away from your folds, slapping it hard against the coarse curls at your mound. “you think i'm unfair because you want my cock inside you around all of these people and i won't give it to you? when will you ever learn propriety, hmm?”

“n-not ‘til you fuck it into me, kento-sensei,” is your petulant response, gripping the skirt of your sundress dress until the skin of your knuckles feel taut. it’s unfair that he makes fun of how much you want him, it's unfair that he has all of that cock but he won't let you fuck yourself on it, it's unfair but you let it happen— wriggling in anticipation, letting him slap the tip of his cock against your clit and tease you out as you moan for it dumbly. “wanna sit on it your cock so i can learn something!”

“why do you think you deserve it?”

the effect he has on you is dangerous. maybe you’re naïve and reckless with your heart, the dewy-eyed college girl helplessly in love with her professor— but no one has ever made you feel the way that he does, not the shitty frat boys or snobby trust fund babies that chase your cute smile and pretty skirts at parties and in hallways. while he thinks you’re using him to fulfill a fantasy, you’re simply unable to convey your feelings into actual words. it’s more than just wanting to fuck him because you’re good at it and it feels good. instead, it’s because when his cock is stretching you out, the two of you joined in the most intimate way possible, it’s forbidden words left unsaid. you deserve him because you lo—

“buh-..’cause you always gimme what i want?” is how you choose to respond instead.

“incorrect answer as always, brat,” he scolds, reaching around to deliver a punishing slap to your ass, making you cough out a yelp. “sit on me, even though you don’t deserve it.”

oh.

you glance out of the window behind kento’s head. it’s too dark to see inside of the other stranded gondolas below you, but you wonder if they can see you. if the other couples are watching as you lean up on sore knees, smearing his precum along your folds as his cock swipes through your slit until the fat head catches on your entrance and you hear him hiss.

your heart thuds painfully against your ribs, the familiar feeling of delicious fear at the sheer size of your professor’s cock setting an ache in your belly. you widen your thighs, your knees scratching against the rough material of the bench as you reach down to spread one of side of your folds apart, opening yourself for him. but as you plan to sink down slowly, carefully, the ferris wheel suddenly rocks, spearing you down too fucking quick on the blunt head of his cock—

“w-wait, k-kento-sensei-!” your abrupt shriek rings out in the silence as you scramble desperately to wrap your arms around his neck for support. glassy tears spring hot to the corner of your eyes, the stretch making your sore cunt flutter around him tight and desperate as your knees try to snap shut against his hips uselessly. you try to hold yourself from sliding down on him any further until you're ready for it, but you’re so fucking wet that your pussy greedily sucks in the rest of his inches and your thighs give up against the strain, weight forcing you down to sit flush against his lap— jutting his cock up against your womb with a deep twinge.

“take it easy, darling girl,” he bites out behind clenched teeth as his head tosses back against the window, his groan vibrating against your bodies. fingers digging deep into the soft skin of your hips at the intrusion, the sensation of your pussy sinking down on his cock is too much— breaking him out into a cold sweat, feverish. you're so small, tightening around him until he feels like choking. his calloused hand tries to rub soothingly over the soft dimples of your lower back, but he’s just as fucked out as you.

“i-i can’t-!” you cry out, trembling in his arms and clinging to him hopelessly, snot bubbling in your nose and mascara staining your cheeks. you shift experimentally and you feel your stomach lurch with a wet gasp punching from your lips, but there’s no real time to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you and you know it— not when the mechanics are close to fixing up the broken ride. “n-nanami-”

“you can do it, love,” he coos, kissing the temple of your sweaty forehead with the tender care you deserve for trying to accommodate his fat girth. he rewards you by fanning his hand over your belly, thumb dropping upside down to rub through your folds, fucking it over your swollen clit in squishy circles. “show me how well this pussy can take me.”

you nod dumbly, the pleasure singeing your nerves raw as you shakily lift out of his lap before sinking again, his cock disappearing against your gummy walls with a thick push that squelches lewdly on the draw in. it’s overwhelming and so fucking good, your hand slapping against the window behind his head for leverage— leaving a print in the condensation. “eugh- f-fuck, kento-”

there’s a different kind of stroke to a cock when you’re not allowed to have it. sweet punishment for your sins because you aren’t supposed to be here with your professor, fucking him at all, let alone in public. forced to settle for short, deep drops of your hips instead of bouncing high and spreading it out— keeping him snug against your cervix in order not to rock the capsule too much. it’s messy and your cunt loves it, slick spreading along your thighs, gushing down the length of nanami’s cock.

“ah, look at you. you love this, don’t you? you wish someone would see. it’s like you want to get caught so everyone will know who this cunt makes the sweetest sounds for,” nanami rasps out, thumbing your clit faster now, leaving his fingerprints under the hood of the sore nub. he widens his stance, spreading his feet apart to force you to sink deeper into his lap— hard jostles, your ass cheeks slapping down lewdly against his balls. your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but grasp one of your tits into his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste the salty skin on his tongue.

“i-i love it-! i love it s’much, kento-sensei. love you s‘much-!” you sob loudly, burning with the affection his cock fucks against your nerves. you’re drunk on the pleasure, too much dopamine twinkling in your brain to realize the weight of your confession, but kento does. heart sputtering and swells inside his chest cavity because you sound like you mean it— cock thickening inside of you.

“fuck- fucking love you too, my darling girl.”

the desperate rhythm of your fucking upsets the gondola, rocking it slightly, and kento loses ground— his teeth catching your nipple in a pinch that makes you fuck down on him harder. the pain combined with the pleasure of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt dizzyingly sweet. he soothes over the sting with a gentle suck of his mouth and you squirm with a whine, gushing around him even more, your sticky cream foaming around the base of his cock in a squishy ring that aids your slide.

“we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, folks. the ride appears to be fully operational now and we will begin unloading passengers now!”

the intercom announces loudly as the engine of the ride cranks up on the ground, the flashing lights shining into the gondola once again. you don’t even pay attention to the bright beams, eyes rolled back and and head too full of cum to notice so kento quickly clamps his hand over the back of your head and forces it down against his shoulder to hide your silhouette in the window.

“no- don’t wan’ get off yet. i-i’m so close… wanna cum on your cock so bad!”

“what are you going to do if we reach the bottom of the ferris wheel doing this?” he pants, his hands pressing searing bruises into the curve of your hips as he lifts you effortlessly up and down his cock, breaching your soaked cunt with powerful, deep fucks that leaves you ruined.

“a-are you scared of getting caught, nanami-sensei?” you whine, shifting against his strong hold, drooling against his shoulder as you moan loudly. nanami answers by bucking his hips off the bench hard, letting the devastating drops of your hips be met with hard snaps of his own.

“hush, filthy girl. you’re so fucking loud,” he hisses, his hand leaving your hip to stuff three fingers into your mouth, clacking against your teeth with the movement. “suck them or do you want someone to hear us and stop you from cumming?”

by the time the ferris wheel begins to descend, your mind is lost to the pleasure nanami fucks into your pussy. your exhausted fingers rub furiously at your puffy clit as you bounce frantically on your professor’s drenched cock, letting the fat cockhead bully that spongy sweet spot nestled along your walls repeatedly until you’re wailing even louder, the sound barely muffled by nanami’s thick fingers.

it’s so fucking good that neither one of you care about getting caught any longer, consequences be damned. the musky scent of sex permeates the tight air, the capsule rocks violently with your sloppy movements. and how could you care about anything else when nanami grips your hair and hisses into your ear, once and for all, “cum for me, you little slut,”

“uhuh, k-kento-sensei ‘m gonna cum for y-you-! jus’ for you-!” you promise with a cry, swallowing his cock down with greedy bounces of your cunt to his lap— thighs trembling violently, eyes crossing up, blurring your vision with tears as you fuck lewdly. your nails scratch down the window desperately as kento takes over and rubs his fingers through your slit, hooking his middle finger into your cunt alongside his cock, stretching you out even further while his thumb is back to rubbing into your clit again. sharp shocks of pleasure in that final movement that burns through your veins, throwing you over the edge.

“give me one, little love- give me one right here, let me feel you-”

you’re wailing too fucking loud, but he doesn’t dare stop you, not when you’re this breathtaking. trembling in his lap as the knot in your lower belly bursts wide open, knees clacking against his hips as your orgasm curls your toes, washing you down with white hot pleasure. you cling to nanami’s neck desperately, cunt expanding as overstimulation sets in and you splash juices against his shorts and the hem of your sundress with so much force that his cock slips out with a wet squelch, until you quickly push it back in with a gasp.

“h-hah, oh god-!” you squeal, writhing all over his lap, cunt still pulsing and clamping around him. kento swears and you know that he’s close too, doing your best to give him a few more weak drops of your cunt on his cock. his muscles tighten and he cums with a long guttural groan that he buries against the sweaty skin of your neck, spurting thick globs of warm seed right up against your womb just as your gondola reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel—

“f-fuck, darling. get off- get the fuck up right now-”

you quickly climb off of kento’s lap on gummy legs, his cum pooling against your cotton panties and trickling messily down your inner thigh. you wipe your thighs on the hem of your ruined dress as kento calmly tucks his dripping cock back into his shorts before buttoning his wrinkled shirt up with an air of easy sophistication, as if he just didn’t fuck his student dirty on a ferris wheel, as if your squirt isn't soaked into his shorts and dripping onto his shoes.

“come here, you,” he beckons, reaching for you to tenderly wipe your tear stained cheeks with his shirt, clearing up the smudges of mascara. “there.”

you smile at him blearily just as the door to the gondola opens. the ride operators take in your disheveled appearances, but round it up to an hour of being stranded at the top of a thrill ride. what were they going to say, anyway? miss, why is that man's cum leaking down your leg?

nanami is casual, holding his head high and exiting first with your pompompurin plush while you follow behind him shyly, his arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you down from the gondola. he knows that the limp in your walk will be too obvious— you’re always so sore after he fucks you— so he kneels down on the platform, letting you climb onto his back to be carried.

the carnival is deserted now. rides that once blasted the summer’s top hits have been shut down, sideshows boarded up for the night, and fairgoers who filled the streets have gone home by the time you and nanami make your way towards the exit, avoiding the makeshift emergency triage to the left checking on passengers of the ferris wheel even though no one was injured. but maybe you needed to let them check your heart and diagnose why you selfishly forced nanami into hanging out with you on his only day off, why you confessed to loving your professor while you were bouncing on his cock—

why you meant every word you said to him.

“say, kento,” you call sleepily, one cheek smushed against his shoulder as your head lolls cutely against it. you hear him hum for you to continue, shifting your weight evenly as he walks out of the carnival grounds and towards the parking lot. a lump forms at the base of your throat, and you hate how vulnerable and weak you sound. “i’m sorry for dragging you out here today on your day off. you must be annoyed with me, right?”

“don’t be foolish,” his voice is back to that endearing monotone, but he gives your thighs a soft squeeze as he strolls, pressing the key finder to his mercedes once you reach the parking lot to locate it. he's been an idiot the entire time, hiding you away like he has. “i’m off next saturday too so let’s go out on a date again.”

˚‧ ✰ hottest students in nanami's class: @tobiodose, @lawscorazon, @fushisslut, @danibby, @hanmas, @atsumeii, @venusflytrapstar, @sheerxfiction, @sintiva, @getosbunny, @tonaken, @sailewhoremoon !!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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https-furina · 7 months

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✎ baked with love. ft. kazuha x gn!reader content. fluff, modern!au, maybe a slight hint to idol!au? just sweet fluff there’s really nothing more to say! baking with kazuha isn't as easy as it seems... mentions of insecurities (associated with acne/spots, teeth, scars and weight/stretchmarks/body) that the reader sees negatively. w.c. 1.2k words

archon’s decree. happy birthday to the kazuha to my heizou, my bag of skittles, the trauma fairy — welcome to the twenties !! i’m here to make today better (i think?) so as promised, here’s your present ! mwah ilysm dear !! taglist. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept - send an ask to be added!

"sweetheart-" the petname rolls off your tongue effortlessly, a little exasperated perhaps, for how on earth had your boyfriend ended up in such a terrible mess in your short absence? you thought the task of measuring out the ingredients would be simple enough - what could go wrong? but the way pale skin is dusted in a light coating of flour, reaching as far as the dark fabric of his clothing and decorating the pretty length of long lashes lined around his eyes, you figured that possibly it wasn't simple enough.

ruby eyes disappear into creases as your boyfriend sends a sheepish smile your way. he's almost dressed to play the part of a househusband, silver tresses of hair with red streaks mixed in tied back - albeit a little messy - and there's a stupid slogan apron wrapped around his waist although it appears to have done nothing to save your boyfriend's outfit from a flour attack.

"i may have dropped the flour," he notes, slender hands gesturing to the mess of the kitchen counter that definitely took the brute force of aforementioned flour attack, "i think that might be too much flour."

he says this with a hint of humour, clearly joking as he gestures to the bowl sat upon the electronic weighing scales that indeed has too much flour in it - was he trying to make the densest cake on the planet? a sigh escapes your lips but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, unable to hide that the scene was incredibly stupid to look at. in response, kazuha's sheepish smile grows much wider - almost as if in pride from being able to make you smile.

"we can save this it's fine," you try to sound hopeful but the way the flour spreads across the kitchen counter, it almost seems like the baking equivalent of glitter, "hold the flour bag open, i'll try pour what's in the bowl back into it."

kazuha is quick to act, as he always is when it comes to tasks in day-to-day life. your boyfriend is efficient, apparently just not at measuring ingredients successfully. yet the act of attempting to pour flour back into the bag is met with mere failure when a cloud of white powder disperses into the air, making you too a victim of its power. kazuha can't help but grin at your expense, biting the inside of his cheek to maintain the laugh threatening to escape his lips when you stand, quietly processing what just happened.

"i don't think we can save this." he comments, his voice cracking when you blink the flour off your eyelashes and glance up at him. he's so close to giving in - it's a mess, sure but it's a small price to pay for the memories created. when kazuha finally breaks, unable to contain himself from your lack of words about the situation, your eyes gloss over how he leans against the flour covered counter, elbows coated in it as he hangs his head to try hide the fact he's laughing. his ponytail falls over his shoulder, dragging the ends of ashen blond hair through the powder without a care in the world.

despite this being an attempt to bake your birthday cake at home - you're not a huge fan of the designed ones in the supermarkets, - the two of you are really not suited to be bakers, especially not when either of you can witness the other's bad luck without bursting into laughter. feeling slightly humiliated, you turn towards the kitchen sink, eager to wash flour off your face that keeps tickling your nose - there's a sneeze on the horizon - yet kazuha's laughter is contagious, echoing in the silent kitchen when neither of you want to admit what just happened. you find yourself laughing with him and despite the previous feeling of humiliation, it's not a small laugh.

kazuha never fails to bring out that pure laughter in you, the one that hurts your sides and makes it hard to breathe because you simply cannot stop laughing - and when you try, you erupt into more laughter over the simplest of things. tears decorate your eyes, the kitchen filled with gasps for breath as you try to wave kazuha off, scolding him playfully and hushing him because clearly, it is his fault that you cannot stop laughing.

"will you - oh my god - stop that?" you cry, grinning as kazuha raises his hands to wipe the tiny glittering tears caught in his eyelashes but alas, the motion simply smears flour across his cheekbones and there it is again, that suffocating laughter that erupts from your chest and has you turning your back on your boyfriend in attempt to calm down.

the kitchen begins to die down into a calm silence a few moments later, minus the small breathless laughs and content sighs at your own stupidity. kazuha watches as you wash your hands under the kitchen sink, your cheeks hurting from that grin you couldn't wipe off your face. at this moment, he takes the opportunity to admire you. he admires all the blemishes that you say you hate, the small things about your body that you're insecure about. maybe he's admiring the crooked tooth you've hated since you was young or the spots dotted across your face that you frown at every time you see your own reflection; perhaps he's admiring the silvery tiger stripes painted along your thighs, hips and upper arms that he knows you've googled how to fade or the faint scars littered across your body for numerous reasons.

he admires you.

everything about you.

to kazuha, he couldn't possibly love you more than he already does. if there was a bar for how much he loved you, it would be exceeded. if his love was a pot of boiling water, it would be bubbling over the sides onto the stove. he's reminded when he hurries out of your shared house, pressing more than one chaste kiss to your lips because despite being late to band practise - he lost track of time wrapped up in your arms on the couch, - he finds you addictive. as if by chance, you feel the same way. it's a dangerous scenario when presented to the concepts of time, appointments and adult responsibilities.

the pair of you wouldn't have it any other way.

soon the glow of streetlamps that have turned on in the absence of daylight paint the kitchen in a warm gold through the windows, decorating the walls in shadows as you gaze upon the mess you've created, fingers laced together as you stand side by side. somewhere in the distance, a church bell begins to chime as midnight strikes and kazuha pulls you flush against him, his hands moving to wrap around your waist with a loving smile as he rests his forehead against yours. the tips of your noses brush, one being much colder than the other as you feel kazuha's warm breath on your face; you can smell the faintest of fruits he snacked on earlier.

"happy birthday, my love." he whispers wholeheartedly as you listen to that echoing chime continue into the silence of the city, his lips delicately pressing to yours in the most gentle act of love, his thumbs brushing patterns against the small of your back comfortingly.

kaedehara kazuha undoubtedly remains your home, your four walls and your hearth. he stands to be the sole person who kindled your dying fire and he'll forever be the one to protect it from the harsh winds of life.

"how about we just buy some cupcakes tomorrow instead?"

#꒰꒰・♡ solved cases #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #kaedehara kazuha #genshin kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #https-furina

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helenkordart · 24 days

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This was a bit of an insane project! I decided to draw all the designs from the various official arts we have gotten over the years. A bit of an archiving project! I tried to make them as accurate as possible. It involved a lot of guesswork tho, since most of them don′t show the full designs. Let′s just say that only 5 of these (and I mean five figures, not design sets lmao) show any kinds of shoes.

I do love seeing the design elements that carry over between the designs tho. Ququ is a cold boy and has to have some kind of fur or a scarf. Feng-er doesn′t want a speck of dirt to touch him and prefers high collars and bracers and high boots (the boots ARE book canon tho). I also love that there′s only three designs that have Ququ wear some kind of crown, the rest is just ribbons or nothing at all, despite the jade crown being mentioned at least once. Like no, we want the boy to be cozy and prevent headaches...!

Please tell me which designs are your favourite! Mine is the official manhua design, mostly because it′s honestly such a smart design, especially Ququ. Like you can tell the artist looked at Ququ and his specific disabilities and worked from there. Besides the hair ribbon, my favourite small detail is the arm warmers that look like compression gloves used for arthritis 🥹 That one means so much to me. Also the difference in layers between Ququ (I′m cold) and Feng-er (ew no dirt touch me ew). It′s just. So nice 🥹♥️

If you want the corresponding official arts, I′ve posted them in the thread on twitter! Anyway here′s which is which with more commentary lmao sorry I cannot shut up about these so much thought actually went into making them and this is the only place where I can actually talk about them properly 🥹

The designs from the first discontinued manhua- Some people in the fandom prefer these because they say they feel more adult but no, sorry, sure the art skill might be better but they just. Don′t feel like Fengcuis to me. Like I would′ve learned to love them but I′d never exchange them for the main ones we got. Plus the character designs changed between all the panels, so trying to chase down a specific design was hell. I′m glad Ququ showed up only in one panel so I didn′t have to do that again lmaoo

The designs from the official manhua- I already explained above why I love them so much. Just. These are THE designs for me. I see these little guys and my heart goes doki doki. If (when) I make lil standees, I′ll very probably use these

The designs from my favourite of the manhua covers- you don′t understandddddddddddddddddddddddddd I love this cover so much. To say I′m insane about it is an understatement. Just. Look at the cover art. Feng-er staring directly into the camera, challenging. Ququ looking soooo kissable. Their entwined fingers. Ququ wearing a jade bracelet in the colours of Feng-er′s robes. I′m just. Vrrrrrrr bark bark BARK. Also had to make MORE patterns for this one. Still not sure I did it proper justice tho 🥹

The manhua-canon modern au outfits- I still can′t believe we got a canon modern au where singer-spy Feng-er kidnaps doctor Ququ on a mission-date and has him hold a silly baloon all day and wear a cute little cap with a silly little cockatoo on it and then they wish each other a happy new year during a sunset on top of the ferris wheel AND I′M SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT???????????? Anyway Ququ in his tweed collection is so cute. Mwah. Best boy. Feng-er come on tug on his scarf and kiss him. Do it. Now

Designs from the covers of the traditional edition- these designs are pretty unique while still feeling in character, which is cool! Ququ is such a fancy lil lad here. And I′m obsessed with his... frog? Mousie? Front clasp. I made it a little fox because of course I did

Design from the 1st cover of the simplified edition- I don′t have that much to say about these honestly except that they′re very pretty. I love that Feng-er′s top robe is sheer and I love the silver embroidery, even if it took me some time to figure out how tf to draw it

Design from the 2st cover (Ququ) and 3rd cover (Feng-er) of the simplified edition- that Ququ design drives me crazy. He looks so soft and cozy, you wouldn′t guess that this is the meanest most repressed bitchiest man in all of ye olde Sui dynasty. I want to squeeze him. Cute agression overload. Meanwhile I couldn′t figure out what Feng-er′s belt and hem was doing pattern wise so I just winged it lol.

Fengcuis cosplaying a married couple with designs from the Thai vol. 1+2 freebie- God. Funniest arc in the entire book. They′re insane. They′re perfect for each other. Peerlessly matched. One day I′ll draw more of unhinged wife Feng-er because seriously. Their idea of heterosexual marriage is SO funny. They′re so real for that. And the og chibi designs are SO cute. Ququ′s sweaty little face. This was your idea gay boy, suffer

Audio drama designs from first half of season 1- These are so funny bcs the difference of the designs is like. Main covers: beautiful and ethereal. Minisode covers: Ququ is A Tube with a head on top. Slappy fights. Beautiful. No notes. TubeQu is a god′s perfect creature

Audio drama designs from second half of season 1- I said it before but these just feel too generic to be properly them. While drawing them they did kinda grow on me, at least Feng-er, since his expression is kinda perfectly smug. Im still ehhh on the Ququ tho. He′d look better without the crown.

Designs from Thai covers 1+2- oh man lol the thai covers. I was joking that I could not save the Feng-er, but he did grow on me. It might be that he looks proper manic with the chibi base I drew 😂 But he′d look so much cuter with bangs. Idk why the artist did him like this. Meanwhile Ququ is the most beautiful man alive. I mean it′s what he deserves, but it′s still very funny. Also LOVE how big and fluffy his collar is.

Designs from Thai cover 3- besides my other issues with the thai design, the colours on Feng-er just clash lmao I′m sorry, again why did the thai artist have to do him like this 😂 meanwhile the coat on Ququ is not a colour I′ve ever seen him in, but yknow what it works surprisingly well. He continues to be the most beautiful man around. Sorry king is that horrible peacock bothering you

#Peerless #Wushuang #无双 #FengCui #meng xishi #feng xiao #cui buqu #this took me like 2 hours to type out LMAO

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

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can we get more cute naruto headcanons🥹

of course, love. i wasn't sure if you meant naruto - the character, or naruto - the show, so i just went along with the first option 'cause i've been feeling in a nart mood lately and he's been bouncing around my brain a lot, lol. hope you like it!!

also, i actually wrote a post about naruto headcanons a long while back and that one includes various characters. you can find it here if you wish to check it out.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fem!reader, mix of modern AU and canonverse // fluff so sweet it makes your teeth ache. naruto being a lovely friend/boyfriend/human being.

𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗢 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

every tiktok he finds at least mildly funny, he’ll send it to you. the 99+ notifs usually come from him and him alone, and if you don't open them fast enough and react to at least half of them, he spams you over text to ‘open the fuckin app!’

wears mismatched socks all the time. usually bright, vivid colours with funky designs that peek from underneath his jeans whenever he sits down. i'm thinking happy socks type of beat.

grows hot and sweaty in his sleep, but luckily for him you’re a loyal girlfriend, so you endure it all. yes, you stay put even as he drapes his heavy arm and leg over you every night and murmurs pure gibberish into the side of your neck.

holds your hand everywhere you go. it’s not even subtle, he intertwines his fingers with your own and holds on tight. strokes your knuckles, too, and thus turns you into putty as a result.

sometimes forgets you can’t hear him speak with kurama, so whenever he zones out so out of nowhere, it’s really funny. especially if it happens in a public place, like in the middle of the street or a grocery aisle; he looks like how the windows shutting down noise sounds.

texts his kisses with ‘mwah, mwah, mwah!!!!!!’

has the ugliest picture he’s ever taken of you set as his contact photo for you. whenever he loses his phone and he asks you to call him (it happens more often than you’d think) so that he can find it, you see the caller ID and get upset. he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

you definitely own matching onesies (yes, even as adults.)

his sneakers always look busted af.

doesn’t like going to the hairdresser’s, but he’s more than happy to sit patiently as you cut his hair at home.

covers his ice cream in sprinkles and chocolate syrup. the thing is a nightmare to eat, but he loves it.

is very clumsy whilst eating his food, he always ruins his shirt. it drives you insane because you have to clean him up like he’s a toddler.

he yanks the covers off of you when he feels like it’s time to get out of bed and tugs you by your ankle when you try to protest as a result.

definitely a morning person.

is willing to have chapstick applied only by kisses.

never carries a backpack, he stuffs everything he owns into his pockets and if it isn’t enough, he whines until you have to put the remainder of the stuff into your bag.

is unable to take you seriously when you’re pissed off. he just finds you too cute, it’s fucking infuriating.

loves hugging you from behind.

doesn’t know how to cook, but at least he tries to help you out.

insists on showering together all the time (he’s super gentle while washing your hair, bless him.)

if you have younger siblings, he gets along with them super well. he’ll play dolls with your baby sister and will beat your little brother at every game on the console.

can’t take a decent picture to save his life. whenever you ask him to take one of you, it always ends up blurry or with the tip of his finger in the shot.

kisses you goodnight no matter the hour.

i feel like he’d make you watch the entirety of one piece with him.

has trouble focusing, but he feels very calm whenever you’re around, with his hand in your own. it’s very sweet.

so, so, so clingy. and touchy, too.

he's definitely your friend first before he becomes your boyfriend.

super nosy. if you’re gossiping over the phone with a friend, he’ll drop everything to listen in.

loves you more than you love him. it’s just how he is.

#naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto fluff #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #biscuit drabbles

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rabbitenn · 8 months

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hello, i was wondering if i could request trigger and what soulmate au you think matches them? like red string of fate, injuries appearing on your soulmates body, countdown timer, etc. please remember to take care of yourself and no rush when it comes to this. i just really appreciate finding another fan of trigger :)

thank you and i hope you remember to eat, rest, and hydrate <33

U COMPLETE ME.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

ft. Yaotome Gaku, Kujo Tenn, Tsunashi Ryunosuke x gn! reader.

cw/genre: soulmate au, romance, fluff.

hi, lovely nonnie ! thank you so much for this request ! it is my first time ever writing soulmate au, so I hope it’s not too bad… you’re so sweet ! you take care as well, yeah? stay safe, well rested and hydrated 🩷 I’m glad to meet another TRIGGER fan too <3 I apologize this took so long :(( – it’s also the longest fic I’ve ever written hehe – I still hope you like it, mwah !

♡ YAOTOME GAKU

… and getting flowered tattoos wherever your soulmate receives a scar. The tattoos disappear once you and your soulmate meet.

It started around the time TRIGGER was formed.

Gaku doesn’t really know the meaning of the dark ink appearing on his skin sometimes.

It began with the swirling rose on his shoulder, an intricate pattern of decaying petals that seemed to drift away over the pallor of his back. The art was beautiful, but he can’t quite recall ever having it done. It seemed to be appealing enough for photoshoots, so his manager didn’t mind much.

However, that mysterious flower wasn’t the last of petals that would caress the idol’s skin.

Another flower appeared some time after, right below one of his knees. A dahlia this time, its petals with a subtle shade of warm pink filling them in.

And again, he is certain he has never stepped into a tattoo parlor…

This matter is beginning to take a turn for the bizarre, seeing how the rose on his shoulder is mostly faded, akin to a sepia colored photograph displayed in a sunny room, memories exchanged for light and time.

However, he was not the only one with a garden of ink flowering on their skin.

—

Lying down on your bed, you spread your fingers, hand raised before you. Your eyes follow the lines of the two blooms circling your pointer and ring finger: a dahlia and a rose, respectively.

Where did they even come from? You don’t have the habit of drawing on your own skin since you were a kindergartner, nor have you dared to get anything permanently inked on your body just yet… The flowers simply appeared one night, as if they were extensions of the starry heavens, forming a ring tailored to you.

You roll around in your bed, picking up one of the latest magazines you’ve acquired, your favorite idol group featuring on its cover.

The next thing you know, you’re bolting upright, the glossy book centimeters away from your face.

It’s not like the fact that TRIGGER appears on the cover is anything out of the ordinary, but rather, you’re solely focused on their leader.

Yaotome Gaku. Your bias since they debuted.

He’s wearing nothing but an open white shirt with black pants.

And there, on his right shoulder, you see it.

It’s partially covered by his clothes, but they’re see-through enough.

Dark lines converging into what’s unmistakably a rose, a few petals extending down his back and collarbone.

Your eyes flit from your hand to the picture and to your hand again.

There is no doubt. It’s the exact same design.

You have to make it to their next concert. You have to see him, and try to talk to him. Even if it just may be wishful thinking, you have to at least try.

Luckily for you, TRIGGER’s next live performance is around the corner.

—

And so, the fated day arrives, with you on the first row holding white light sticks tightly.

All your nerves seem to manifest in the throbbing sensation of the dark blooms you sport.

As usual, TRIGGER’s concert is an utter success, and you’d be elated to be witnessing such a spectacle were it not for the wild thumping of your heart at what you’ve decided to do afterwards.

As the music ends and your favorite idols say good night, you take one last deep breath.

You make a beeline for the back entrance and wait.

Muffled voices of fans come from the other side of the rundown door, but they’re all white noise to you.

Under the mixed light of stars and streetlamps, you examine your tattoos once more. They almost seem to flicker, as if glitter in shades of night had been melted over the inked lines.

Minutes pass, the crowd dissipating, their voices fading into the faraway stars, concealed behind the abundance of illumination.

And then, the door to your side opens.

A tall figure you’ve watched dance countless times strides out, and, for a second, your voice dies out in your throat.

Is this really a good idea? Will he just take you for another crazy fan?

No, you have to focus.

“E-excuse me…” You begin, voice slightly trembling.

Steely eyes meet yours, yet somehow, you don’t feel any of the coldness their color would suggest.

“I…” The idol’s head tilts to the side for an instant at your hesitation. “Okay so this might sound insane, and you’ll probably think I’m some crazy fan, which I am- A fan I mean, not crazy, hopefully…” You trail off, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt, as you look down. “But the thing is…” You shake your head. “I’ll show you.” You finally manage, exposing your ring finger to the night lights. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but… how did you get your tattoo? The one on your shoulder… I kind of… isn’t this one the exact same?” You ask, showing him your hand.

His winter sky eyes widen, and, when you follow his gaze, you find an eerie glow blazing in shades of white where your tattoos are.

And not only that. A gasp leaves your lips when matching brightness emanates from the man’s shoulder and knee, the shapes, the exact same on your fingers, glowing in your favorite color.

“What even-“ he begins. His sentence goes unfinished, the sudden burst of light fading, leaving nothing but untarnished skin behind, all traces of ink vanished.

Then you notice them.

Paler than the rest of his skin, two thin lines mar his ring and index finger, the exact same place where your tattooed flowers used to be.

And it dawns on you, that the garden of ink you’ve been sharing isn’t just a coincidence.

“How did you get these?” You question, fingers delicately threading through the idol’s. The rosy hue of summer dahlias rises to his cheeks at the contact. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” You fumble, realizing you were holding his hand.

“No need to apologize.” He smiles. “I help out someone in the kitchen sometimes.” He doesn’t elaborate further.

Afterwards, one of his hands reaches for your shoulder, where the point of a jagged thin scar, mostly faded, peeks out. “May I?” He asks, as you nod, giving him the green light to pull your shirt slightly aside.

Momentarily, his gaze widens, a flash of puzzle pieces falling into place. Then, a soft smile tilts his lips upwards.

“So, may I know the name of my soulmate?” Are the words of Yaotome Gaku, as he extends a hand to you.

You take it, introducing yourself.

“Is it okay for us to be together here in the open, Yaotome-san?” You ask, glancing around for prying eyes.

“It’s alright.” He assures, tone soft. “And you can call me just Gaku.” A smile reaches his eyes, its shine not unlike the slivers of moon reflected in the puddles of late summer rain. “It’s nice to finally meet you, [Y/n]”.

“Likewise, just Gaku.” You grin, a little mischievous, as you take his hand.

♡ KUJO TENN

… and sharing the same talents. What one learns, the other can also do.

Unconsciously, you start humming the same melody again.

Like every morning as you walk through deserted streets, the sun yet to rise from behind an horizon that you felt was at the tip of your fingertips when you sang.

It’s a well known piece, of that you are certain. You’ve done your research as lyrics began flowing from your lips like a forgotten native language.

Somehow, one day you knew them by heart, when the previous one, a nostalgic melody was all you had to go by.

And the voice you hear, or imagine in your mind when you think about the song… you swear you’ve heard it somewhere before.

As a gust of wind causes you to tuck your coat tighter around you, a flapping sound momentarily interrupts your line of thought.

Clinging onto a street light, a dark piece of glossy paper catches your eye. Bright colors can be made out on the edges of it, white lettering covering the back of the flier.

No harm in taking a look, right? You think to yourself, as your gloved hand reaches for it.

Turning it around in your grasp, you notice it’s an advertisement.

Apparently TRIGGER is performing again soon at the FSC Hall.

A smile illuminated in the cold light of morning curls your lips upwards.

Finally, they’re getting a chance to perform at a large venue.

TRIGGER is the group that’s been with you through thick and thin since their formation, and oddly enough, somehow, you could always memorize their songs without even trying.

Well, not exactly memorize.

It’s more like, you already knew every one of their songs when you listened to them for the first time.

It certainly was uncommon, but then again, since you were a kid you somehow had always picked up dancing and singing uncanningly quickly, with no training at all. And while you did not choose to make it a profession, it certainly was a hobby you held very dear.

The tunes you sang, the swaying of your body on nights when all you knew were tears, had brought a little of light and color to otherwise tinted in drowning memories.

And it was TRIGGER’s songs you always danced to, akin to the first cherry blossoms carpeting an otherwise muddy ground.

Pocketing the pamphlet, you heave a sigh, adjusting your back and heading towards the train station.

You have to get tickets this time. Is the thought that accompanies you for the rest of the day, in moments when you’re not humming that song.

The center of your beloved idol group in question, by the way, happened to have a hidden talent of his own too.

—

Everyone who is a fan of Kujo Tenn knows of his enjoyment of sweeter tastes, and especially, his love for donuts.

However, what remains a secret to most is the fact that he can bake quite well.

The idol doesn’t know how or when exactly did he learn; his only memory is still being in middle school when his usual bakery had run out of his beloved treat, thus, he decided to try his hand at it himself.

To his surprise, both the flavor and texture came out perfectly, almost impossibly alike to the chocolatey desserts he usually got on his way home.

He hasn’t visited that bakery for a while, now that he thinks about it… Will it even still be there?

He doesn’t have much longer to dwell on the thought when his two groupmates (who also happen o be his roommates) get home.

“Something smells really good in here…” Tenn can make out Ryu's voice coming from somewhere in the corridor.

“Tenn, we’re home!” Gaku this time, and two sets of approaching footsteps.

“Hey, Tenn, what is it that smells so nice?”

Tenn in question has a few seconds to ‘tsk’ and turn around, frilly pink apron still on while he mixes the dough.

“You guys could have warned me that you’d be here so early.” He grumbles, blushing. Oh, he so knows the other two won’t drop the subject of him cooking in a cute apron.

“You baking?” Gaku, his head peeking over Ryunosuke’s shoulder.

Tenn pinches the bridge of his nose. For someone who was the center of a world famous idol group, he certainly didn’t enjoy being on the spotlight like this.

“So what if I am…” He glares at the leader of his group.

“Must you always be so charming?” Gaku shoots back, words coated in pure sarcasm.

“There, there… guys, please, there’s no need to fight…” Ryu intervenes. “I didn’t know you could bake, Tenn… when did you learn?”

Maroon eyes avert to the side.

“It’s complicated… I didn’t exactly learn… I just tried one day and somehow I knew how to.”

“Just like that?” His friend’s amber eyes narrow in thought. He gives Gaku a look, to which the latter shakes his head in confusion. “I’m not entirely sure that could be your case,” Ryu continues. “But, back in Okinawa, I heard people talk once, stories circulated too… I’m not certain how much truth is there in them but maybe… could it be you have a soulmate, Tenn?”

The modern angel’s brows furrow skeptically.

“A soulmate? Isn’t that a folktale?”

“We don’t know…” his older friend goes on. “Isn’t it just a little strange, however, you could bake perfectly on the first try? Unless you used some recipe…”

“I didn’t.” Tenn states, confidently. “It’s as if… I somehow had already memorized it, even though I cannot remember when, how or where.”

“Then it’s not impossible you got this talent from them… And whoever they are, they know a thing or two about making sweets. Seems fitting for you, huh?” Comes Ryunosuke’s friendly teasing.

As his friends go get changed, Tenn begins preparing the dough for shaping, the word ‘soulmate’ lingering on the back of his mind like an old childhood song.

—

Lately, Zero Arena had become a place of respite for you.

Early evenings dusked beautifully behind the building, pinks and golds glittering off of the expanse of rippling water surrounding it.

Despite the warm hues the world keeps dyeing in as the sun sets, the air is cold.

You regret not having brought a scarf.

Plus, the just baked donuts you made at work only do so much to warm your hands as you hold the box between them.

Closing your eyes against the dying sunlight, you lean back on the bench, taking a breath before starting to sing the lyrics the great idol Zero used to.

Dis one.

Curiously, that and TRIGGER’s songs were the ones you managed to always intone perfectly, especially the parts Kujo Tenn, their center, performed.

Except this once, yours is not the only singing voice.

You’d have to live under a rock to not recognize that voice, but then again, this couldn’t be, could it?

You wait until you and your duet companion chant the last note.

And then you turn around.

A few feet away from where you sit, a lean male stands. His hair falls perfectly over one side of his face, the color of starlight through clouds. He sports a dark coat, accentuating the overall angelic pallor of his complexion, the red scarf around his neck, almost matching the shade of his eyes, akin to little pools of a blazing horizon.

“How are you able to sing that song perfectly? Kujo Tenn inquires, without further preamble.

His tone… it’s… colder? than what you recall him to be on stage.

You bite your lip, then:

“I don’t know. I just do… I’ve known this song for a long time… I have no idea why I can sing it, how, when, or where I learned it.”

His expression remains guarded; then, he notices the box you’re holding over your lap.

Recognition flashes through his sanguine gaze.

“That box. What’s in it?” Tenn’s eyes don’t leave the logo stamped in pink over the white background.

He knows that design. He used to stop by every day back when he was still in middle school, after all.

“Oh, this?” You open the lid an inch. “Just something I made today at work after I ended my shift. Would you like to try one, Kujo-kun?” You offer, now opening the donut-filled box completely.

A tender smile paints the idol’s lips a more vibrant shade of rose the moment you recognize him, slender fingers reaching out for one of the chocolate covered donuts.

“I remember these, from years ago.” He trails off. “I didn’t know if the shop would still be there…”

“It is.” You smile, a little woeful. “My grandparents grew too old to keep working on the business, though, so I kind of manage it by myself now.”

A twilit breeze picks up, your free hand instinctively reaching up to pull your coat closer around your neck.

“Oh! Would you like to have these?” You manage, fumbling a little for words when it sinks in that, yes, you’re talking to one of the most famous idols of the moment.

“Only if you accept this first.” The man utters, already wrapping his maroon scarf snuggly around your neck.

You fluster, cheeks blazing like the sun that’s already halfway behind Zero Arena’s ground level.

Nodding, you hand him the box.

“I have another offer.” Tenn states, fingers brushing against yours when you pass him the package. “I can help you bake for your shop. Would you like to… meet up and practise my performances with me some time in exchange?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“No offense but, can you bake?”

“I don’t know why I can, how, when, or where I learned, but yes, I can bake.” The idol replies, with a warm, knowing smile.

“And what do you gain from this exchange?” You question further, a part of you fearing this is just some cruel joke despite how right everything, how right you feel around him.

“To get to know my soulmate.” Tenn utters, as notes of powdered sugar and fuchsia clouds surround you.

That’s more like the angel you admire.

Your soulmate.

“I’d like to get to know you, too, Tenn.” You return his smile, soft.

As you share conversation coated in colored sweetener, you begin making your way back home.

Home…

Perhaps you’ve already started becoming each other’s.

♡ TSUNASHI RYUNOSUKE

… and having a compass on your body leading you to where your soulmate is.

Lately, the needle has started twitching.

In golden ink, perfectly circular on the inner side of your wrist, the tattoo of an ornate compass lies.

Its point had always been stagnant, lines in silver glitter inked over your veins, its only movement your beating pulse.

However, as nights began to cover in bright lights and snow, your compass had started pointing towards somewhere.

Or rather, someone.

You knew wherever they were, whoever they were, you’d find them somewhere along the other end of the needle.

As you sip a warming latte, your gaze entranced by the slow flutter of snowflakes as they fall with the gelid breeze of night, you wonder.

What kind of person might your soulmate be? Are they still far away, since all the compass has done is flutter, not particularly pointing anywhere?

Does the movement mean you’re somehow getting closer to your soulmate?

Sighing, you pull your sleeve over the aureate circle permanently etched on you, before standing up, paying for your order and taking off into the cold evening.

—

The sudden activity on his compass can’t be just coincidence.

Tsunashi Ryunosuke knows he’s not hallucinating either, he knows the gilded lines tracing over his veins by heart.

After all, the compass never once moved when he used to accompany his father on fishing trips, tumultuous waters threatening to topple the small boat over.

However, since he’s gotten into this plane, the argent point has budged slightly, akin to a broken watch that went back and forth, forever ticking the exact same second.

Ryunosuke’s honey gaze glances out the window, his hometown in Okinawa little more than a dot of green and brown over the astronomical expanse of blue expanding on all sides.

Closing his eyes, the to-be idol leans against the headrest of his seat.

He wonders, what will this new life of his be like? And who is the person his tattoo is being pulled towards?

Landing is still hours away; he guesses he can rest his mind for a while for now.

—

The compass has moved again.

Fully moved this time, unmistakably pointing towards a concrete direction, no matter how much you turn around or change position.

A pull resonates throughout your whole body, urging you to follow the path it indicates. A lane of gilded cobblestones, at the end of which your other half supposedly awaits.

What if it’s all wrong, though? What if they’re someone scary? What if you just get kidnapped and all of this is just part of some malicious bigger scheme?

‘No. Focus, [Y/n]’. You try telling yourself, shaking your head.

A gust of liquid night pricks your skin in icy shards when you step outside, the moon’s smile glinting off of the aureate pattern on your forearm, a thread of starlight pulling you towards your fated soulmate.

Of course, the universe saw to it that you were not the only one chasing after this not yet tangible dream.

“Excuse me for a second now, guys.” Ryu announces, after him and his two future group mates have finished showing off their dancing moves.

Quickly grabbing his coat on the way out, his steps carry him through the stardust contained in the remnants of snow littering the streets.

And yet, despite the possibility of slipping, the idol’s gaze is solely focused on his wrist.

In the same way those of the person who accidentally bumps into him are.

A colliding force suddenly sends you stumbling backwards, the slippery asphalt already unforgivingly hard in your mind as you shut your eyes and brace for impact.

Except instead of the cold and hard sound of dirty concrete against bones, a gentle voice follows.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

Then you open your eyes. Strong arms are keeping you upright, strangely comforting, even though this is the first time you’ve seen the owner of this warming voice.

Regaining your stance, you apologize:

“My bad, I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going…” You explain, laughing a bit nervously.

The man smiles, and you realize then how handsome he truly is.

For all you know, he could very well be a model, an actor even.

Soft brown hair sweeps over one side of his face, his tanned skin accentuating inviting golden irises. The curves of his face are sharp and sculpted, but somehow soft all at once; a gentle hearth, beckoning you to take a moment of respite.

“I suppose I wasn’t paying attention either.” Are the next words he speaks, waking you up from your momentary reverie.

Then, a flash of gold catches his eye, and you notice him glancing to your wrist.

“Ah yeah…” You smile, a bit flustered. “I was just looking for someone…” Your words trail off, observing how the needle now points in the direction the attractive stranger came from.

“That makes two of us, then.” He smiles, displaying the inner side of his forearm for you to see the exact same tattoo you have, pointing straight towards you.

Matching smiles meet your lips when it all clicks.

He’s the one you had been searching for amidst nights where falling snow erased the traces of everything; the footprints of fated love buried beneath layers of frigid moondust.

And you. The tethering anchor awaiting in the raging waves. A lighthouse, the promise of a home here too, despite being miles away from his own.

“Call me Ryu.” He tells you, extending a hand to you.

You sofly shake it, both of you a little awkward.

You chuckle in unison.

“I kinda have to get back somewhere now…” He explains, a shadow of guilt passing over those sunshine eyes. “But let’s meet soon? I’ll find you.” He promises, raising his arm, showing you the compass pointed at you.

“Sounds good.” You softly utter, to him, to the stars who wrote this fate.

With a last kind smile, he rushes towards the street he came from.

You stand there for a few minutes after his figure has vanished.

Ryu. You have the impression the glow of fame is coming his way.

You turn on your heel.

The stars glow a little warmer.

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