zennryu

[zennryu]

remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played

all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!

Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over

Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha

i miss my wife man(Marius)

Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it

Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD

10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek

A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever

last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.

Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself

i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)

[zennryu]

some kind of au....

[zennryu]

Congratulations bby <3

Congratulations!

[zennryu]

[zennryu]

OH GUYS WE'RE SO FUCKING BACK

[zennryu]

give me back my happy alive trios they were mine first

[zennryu]

BABE WAKE UP NEW HAIKYUU TEASER JUST DROPPED AND IT HAS KENMA WITH THE CAGE

#sobbing crying throwing up #HELP #WHY IS THIS MAKING ME SO EMOTIONAL

[zennryu]

🤧

[zennryu]

The rope wrapped around my neck,

The way my feet left the ground.

[zennryu]

HELP 😭

AUDREY LISTEN Someone told me the three blind mice from shrek is Gojo and now I can’t see it

omg i cannot unsee this now … why is that literally gojo LMAOOO

[zennryu]

i hope you guys don’t stop writing gojo, let us keep him alive through the stories we share together

[zennryu]

୧ ˚₊ YOUR HAND LOOKS HEAVY, CAN I HOLD IT FOR YOU? — suna rintarou

you realise that the fox eyed silent volleyball player is just a big doofus and utterly bad at flirting ( because he turns nervous when he sees you. )

suna rintarou is a bad at flirting, but that is something he has not yet realised, nor have his friends told him of his bad skills, they enjoy the way he flirts – lazily even – for they get to tease him later, trouble him with the same certain antics he troubles the other. it is atsumu miya to say the least who has videos of his weird flirty encounters, but all had gone quite good according to what most think of it.

but to atsumu, he knows girls turn putty when suna looks at them — it’s his face that makes girls fall for him, not his stupid words. they blush when they hear him speak, but it is just the lidded gaze of his, the smirk on his face that does the magic, not his words, that is until miya atsumu had finally caught one of suna rintarou’s failures on cam.

“your hand looks heavy? can i hold it for you?”

your dreamy eyes blink at him, confusion present in them for you certainly didn’t understand this way of flirting. suna has his usual smirk on, but it only bemuses you further into the whole of bewilderment and nothing more. you currently have books in your hands, so you muster up to think, he’s asking about the books you were holding — they certainly were quite heavy to hold.

and in the next second that is what you do, putting a bunch of books in his hand with a soft smile — it’s genuine to say the least — setting them right into his hand that is held out to you. but this time it only baffles the fox eyed male, as you shift the books from your hands to his.

“thank you for the help, they were quite heavy! please leave them at the teacher’s desk!” you cheerily speak before waving at him and walking away to the group of giggling girls, as you ask them ‘what’, which is laced with confusion but they shake their heads and guide you away, laughing that is, while suna watches with wide eyes, as miya atsumu cackles like a hyena in the background.

since that moment, he had made his mission to get your flustered, but it only ends up with you blinking your eyes up at him, saying something he takes light years to comprehend and walking away. it gets the boys laughing when they catch him talking to you, only for his plans to fail. his words start to get jumbled with time the more he goes out of his way to talk to you.

suna rintarou never in a million years had ever been nervous to talk or flirt, yet when your eyes set their gaze upon him, he feels his hands start to sweat, heart begins to race like a formula one race car, his minds starts playing the theme of mario kart unknowingly, and his eyes, oh his eyes, become hearts and he begins to melt in his place at the very sight of you.

it was later into the times you have encountered him, you had realised the words he spoke to you, and a light switches on in your head — suna rintarou was trying his utter hardest to flirt with you. you are suddenly overcome with the many rejections that he was faced with by you, and your eyes widen in embarrassment, this was utter humiliation of yours at this point.

“what do you mean?” your voice is one laced with bewilderment, you eyes your laughing group of friends, they have their heads thrown back as they have broken into complete laughter at your inability to understand the concept of flirting. “guys! this is embarrassing!” you look at them with a pout but that doesn’t stop the group from laughing.

“he was trying to flirt with you, [n/n]!” and you are found to be in utter distraught at their words, you gulp, internally screaming at the encounters that had taken place the past few weeks, all ending with you rejecting his flirty words, even though you do not why was he so adamant of flirting with you.

now you find yourself face to face with the fox eyed boy — you also got to know he is part of the volleyball team of your school — his face sparkles with determination this time and yours with understanding, it takes him aback, while you await for him to say anything and suddenly with one utter innocent blink from you, he is nervous again, sweat rolls down his temple as he swallows hard at the mere sight of you.

and he utters once again, “your hand looks heavy? can i hold it for you?” his voice cracking a bit in the end as he clears his throat looking away, cheeks heated with embarrassment, but his ears perk up at the sound of your soft laughter, your eyes sparkled as they looked at him flustered.

“yes, you can hold it for me!” you say between the laughter and the breath suna had been holding is suddenly released, a soft smile on his face as he reaches out his hand for you to take, and you slide yours in his smiling gently. it is a cause for celebration that breaks out among the boys who had been watching him from behind the lockers.

and in suna’s mind, he has finally beaten the ‘bitchless’ allegations that he was marred with by his seniors — it was just oran and akagi.

it’s been years since that moment had passed, you are now working, while your dear boyfriend went pro, you stayed by his side, even when time was less, you liked to support him, make him reach out for his dreams, after all that is what two partners are together for, and he does the same for you, expect his habit of speaking up pick-up line has not still changed yet.

those lines had always put you to realise that this man was not at all good at flirting, he was utterly bad at it, and you had put it out for him to hear a dozen of times, and it only gets you to break into boisterous laughter, whenever your bring him to notice that he is really, really bad at flirting.

but you like it, you like him being cheesy at times, you like that he hasn’t changed an ounce since then, but not has his habit of turning utter mess when you gaze him, and you know it, and it becomes so easy to tease him.

suna is a bad flirt, and atsumu has proof of that 🤭

NOIRFLMS 2023 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission. REBLOG MORE PLEASE !

[zennryu]

Weakness — Kuroo Tetsurou x F!reader

Note: Academic rivals to lovers is superior.

"Are we gonna keep doing this every year?"

You felt a smirk tug on your lips at the familiar voice. Peering your eyes from contest information board, you turned to your side.

"Yeah, probably. And just like every other year, I'm gonna beat your ass." You mocked confidently as you crossed your arms at him.

He turned to you with a smirk and confidence mirroring your own as you locked eyes with the same sly, cat-like eyes you've admired for who knows how many years now. Not like you'd ever admit it.

These yearly interschool competitions somehow always end up turning out the same. You knew where you excelled and knew exactly how to use that to your advantage.

You did find yourself investing time into these competitions. Yet only enough effort to get you the gold medal.

That was until you were tossed a silver medal while a rooster head started flaunting his gold medal around. Let's just say you started really investing after that.

"Hmm don't know about that. Looks like you're gonna have to face your greatest weakness this time around." The rooster head pointed at the contest information board.

You glanced at where he was pointing and mentally cursed at yourself as you saw that they shortened the timer for each round. You scowled as you realized that the man beside you memorizes your strengths and weaknesses like the palm of his hand. Not that you would show any of that on your face.

You pursed your lips together before speaking once more. "Looks like you'll be facing your greatest weakness too. They added physics to one of the rounds this time."

"That's not my greatest weakness." Kuroo mocked playfully. You raised a brow at him before walking away with a smile. "Sure, Kuroo."

.

.

.

You sat down at one of the benches trying to recall everything you reviewed the night before. You weren't usually the type to befriend any of the other contestants and yet you were painfully aware that everyone still knew your name.

"Ugh it's you again." A female voice sounded from the vending machine beside you. You raised a brow at the girl.

"What does that mean?"

"It's just getting kinda annoying thats all. I mean no offense but you're kinda overrated babe I don't get what the hype is."

You scoffed feeling your fingers tighten around your notebook.

"Um. Excuse me. Could you move?"

A familiar voice interrupted before you could even spit back a reply.

"K-kuroo! Did you need anything?"

Kuroo pointed behind her signaling that he wished to use it.

"Oh of course! Can I buy you a drink?" The girl replied flirtishly seeming to have forgotten her other personality towards me.

"Sorry I'm not really into rude bitches."

The female's jaw dropped to the floor. To be honest, yours did too.

"W-what do you mean, Kuroo..?"

"Sam's one of the most hardworking person I know. Kinda a bit hypocritical to say that to the gold medalist as the 3rd place don't you think. Kuroos continued to push the buttons in the vending machine, not bothering to look up.

You felt yourself blush at the words. Did he really think that?

"You know she's just doing that to get your attention right? A total try-hard!" The girl scoffed.

Kuroo locked eyes with mine.

"Well..she sure does have my attention."

You couldn't help but gape at him feeling the knowledge from your previous review night get pushed away by newly-formed thoughts about the man staring straight at you with a smirk.

"Contestants please proceed to the grand hall. The competition will be starting in 5 minutes."

The girl simply turned away with a huff leaving you and kuroo staring there alone.

"Come on now, Ms. gold medal. Wouldn't want to be late huh?"

He whispered close to your ear before grabbing your hand dragging you to the hall.

.

.

.

"Start!"

You quickly opened your whiteboard marker to start writing on the board, feeling your heart drop when not a single sign of ink was coming out.

You glanced around at the other's contestants marker and realized it was different from the one given to you. You locked eyes with a certain female and saw her smirk.

Before you could even process what to do. A marker was placed on the table beside you.

"Use it. I'll go ask the supervisor for another marker." Kuroo said with a surprising gentleness in his voice.

"You're wasting this much time to help me during your greatest weakness?" I asked not being able to hold back the soft, genuine smile resting on my lips.

Kuroo smirked. "I think you should know this by now Ms. Gold medal. My greatest weakness is you."

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #i'm soft for these men #kuroo #hq #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo rivals to lovers #kuroo academic rivals to lovers #haikyuu kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #hq kuroo x reader #zennryu #haikyuu imagines

[zennryu]

roleplay

bartender suna x reader

You’re the one who comes in every Friday.

Approximately at the same time. Eight at night, when the club comes to life and the bar is at its busiest moment. You order the same thing—a lemon water—and you look around the room before leaving an hour after your arrival.

It always feels as if you’re on the quest for someone, your eyes darting around in a manner that is almost suspicious. It would be suspicious for most, he presumes, but Suna can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he has a dozen drunk customers to serve.

He doesn’t care, until the day you sit directly in front of him and ask for his number.

“Hello,” you say, and Suna notices the color of your eyes.

“Hi. Would you like your usual?”

“No,” your response comes quick, “I’d like to talk to you.”

“That’s not exactly in my pay grade.”

“You’ll make it work.”

He doesn’t care enough to argue, so he moves closer to you. It’s here where he notices the small wrinkles on your face—years of laughter and smiles have graced your face with such beautiful marks. He notices the scars on your hands, the birthmarks on your skin, and how your lips lean slightly to the left when you smile. (He’s never cared this much about someone else’s appearance. Maybe it’s just you. Maybe there’s a first time for everything.)

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Straight to the point. There’s no hesitation in your voice, only pure confidence and elegance to your speech.

“No.”

“Would you like a girlfriend?”

“I don’t care much about love.”

That makes you stop. He notices a slight twitch to your eye, and how your fingers tap against the table in deep contemplation.

“Maybe you haven’t been loved right.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re asking too many questions about a bartender you hardly know.”

“I could change that.”

He smiles. Typically, your persuasive attitude would annoy him. But there’s something about you, something so strong and captivating. He is simply a man at sea falling into the tune and tricks of a siren.

“You could. Or you could let me do my job.”

He’s playing hard to get. He knows it and you know it. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, but Suna Rintarou has never been desired and he wants to enjoy the chase.

You smile. He smirks. He has fallen for your tricks.

“You could do your job, or you could tell me what time your shift ends.”

“10 PM.”

Another smile. You’ve got him.

“I’ll wait for you.”

-

True to your word, you wait.

His eyes follow you whenever you move, a moth to a flame. He watches as your hands run over your face, when your fingers trace the worn-out scratches on the table, and when your eyes wander around the room.

He watches the clock till it’s time for him to leave, and you’re still seated pretty where he left you.

“Hello, stranger.”

“Hello, Rintarou.”

He smiles. He almost feels like jumping over the counter, but decency, dignity, and decorum stop him from acting like a fool in your presence.

“Did you wait for long?“ he asks, finally by your side.

“Only as long as I needed to.”

You place your hands on his cheeks. He warms at your touch, heart fluttering in ways he’s never felt before.

“You’re too cold.”

“It’s winter.”

You frown at his response, an action that leads him to dote on you further. He places his hands on your cheeks, squeezing the soft fat in his delicate hands.

“You know,” he starts, “you have got to stop acting like you don’t know me whenever you come over.”

You giggle, “where’s the fun in that? I like flirting with you.”

“Flirting or harassment?”

“It’s roleplay,” you’re quick to comment. “Strangers to lovers. It’s fun.”

A kiss is placed on your pouting lips.

“Sure it is, stranger.”

[zennryu]

pt.2!! (i know that cliffhanger was menacing) 800 followers hello?!

part 1 | part 2

It was weird. It felt weird.

You sat with your chest bare, Kenma contemplating his own conscientiousness and conscious before you. Should he have any integrity, he would turn you around and fulfill what you came to do.

But he doesn’t. Intrusive thoughts win, so he dives straight into you to suck on your tits like a fucking baby.

Just watching in amusement as he tugged and nipped, it looked like Kenma was genuinely enjoying himself when he licked the bud in a single stripe, cat eyes gazing into yours devilishly by the way he could feel your back has a slight arch to it. His pale hands roamed from the small of it to your shoulder blades.

Your manicured fingers tread through the black locks that cover his tinted cheeks and reveal his long, black eyelashes. You mentally curse him for having them. Your upper back begins to stray away; Kenma just follows.

You connect strands of hair behind his ear (which he greatly appreciates you for) because he needs to see you, your curves, and body in all the bright rainbow light from the edges of his setup.

He removes the slim shirt entirely and discards it randomly in the room. He couldn’t care less where it landed. He grasps—literally grasps— both tits in each hand before looking up at you ordinarily, but in an anticipating manner.

“Take the rest of it off.”

“Say please,” you announced. Yes, you asked first, but you could still have a little fun (and refresh his manners).

“You do realize you’re literally in my hands right?“

“…So?”

He just blinks up at you and rolls his eyes in obduracy.

“Please, take the rest of it off.”

You tap a fingernail to your chin, “Hmm… say it like you mean it.”

If you could describe the ravenette’s face right now, it would be the most unamused you’ve ever seen him.

Kenma grabs you and roughs you off him, twists you ‘round, and adroitly unbuttons your jeans from behind you. Done with your shit, he peels them down and brings your panties along. He then pulls you back down to him backwards.

“See? Easy peasy,” he comments.

Slightly embarrassed from being absolutely manhandled, you shuffled against his front and dug your head into his sweatshirt on his left shoulder.

“Are you shy now? Not too long ago you were asking me to-“

“Shut up- Shut up.”

A giggle sounds behind you and lengthy, soft fingers trail up to your plush thighs anyway, then leads more inward. He pats twice to ask you to open up for him. You comply in spite.

With two fingers he spreads you open, a third experimenting into your wetness. You were already getting there having thought about it all day. Your friends talked about what their partners did and how good it felt, so you want as close to that as possible while being unaware of how skilled Kenma actually is. You’re starting to question whether he was the right person or not. Or whether it holds up to its name. Or if you can do it at all.

He caresses you, rubbing the pad of his finger in circular motions against your clit.

“Okay,” his chest rises and falls, “just relax and think about whatever boy toy you want.”

You ignore his taunting. Your eyes trail downwards. He was going so slow, but if you thought you’d have Kenma pawing at you by the end of the night you had to be on something. So, you do what he asks of you and shut down any tense nerve in your body.

“There you go,” as you soften against his front, two of his fingers locate your nub and continue the circling. Your thighs are spread apart on each chair arm, facing the dark idle screensaver Kenma had. Your center was tingly but not the trademark “oh my god!” tingly. It felt good but you weren’t screaming just yet.

Almost in time, he curls his hand farther forward and dips a finger into you. It was leisurely done for reactive purposes, and with your sight deactivated, the reaction he expected was granted. He sinks deeper and deeper until his palm was flat against you. Thanks to his patience, you were definitely wet enough.

He stills inside.

“I can’t do anything if you won’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, and let out a breath you had no idea you were holding. His thumb reddens your clit even more while the other hand tightens on your breast. You feel used with his hands all over your body—but in a good way. Consensually used.

Your regular breaths graduated to heavy ones, and those graduated to groans. Your voice wasn’t very high pitched anyway.

The inactive hand rotated to your clit, while the other focused mainly on gyrating through your walls. His long finger reached places yours couldn’t, and adding a second would only increase the chance of him finding that single pile of nerves that could make you go haywire. He was close but he didn’t think to resort to that just yet.

Two of his hands meet around your front like a hug. His articulated digits roll inside you, each roll a tug on your resistance. A little to the left or a little to the right. His hand curled even deeper on the hunt for your g-spot, so he takes a mental note: up and to the right.

“Oh shit,” your hips slightly stutter.

He smiles, “Right there?” and pesters the previous patch. Your hips lift off him the tiniest bit and your hand reaches up mindlessly. Really you just needed something to occupy yourself. He goes at it again and again, your tummy folded yet moving with him as he’s still going too slow when your body is screaming for more.

You rub his nape in an attempt to focus on anything else. Your arm is smartly wrapped between the two of you by journeying under his neck. Your reflection in the screen is unbeatable, Kenma working you like it was his millionth time doing it. Everything had a job and you just had to sit and take it.

“That’s definitely you,” he mused. He kissed under your ear on the right side. You could say you weren’t feeling much all you wanted, attempting to lower his ego, but your contorted expression spoke differently with inaudible words. At some point his speed increased.

You unintentionally grind on him as your hips falter halfway. He tries his best to ignore it and keep your high ecstasy going because it was: A, the meaning of this entire operation; B, you’d be sore anyway, better to make the best out if it; or C, had he acted on it you would’ve squirted all over his dick. Which option C isn’t necessarily a problem, it’s just he’s almost certain you’d like to see yourself do it.

“Feels good Ken,” you mumble. The squelch sound could now be heard, and you both listened as he slotted himself in the crook of your neck and your head was thrown back on his shoulder. It was dead silent in the apartment, so silent you could hear your own thoughts and maybe even each other’s.

It sure seemed that way, because Kenma persisted with a finger and stimulated you simultaneously. Your head rolled back and forth, your calves flexed, and your pretty pink toes hung off the chair arms. The clip in your hair hadn’t bothered him one bit.

“Kenma,” you insisted.

“I’m here, tell me,” he indulged. Your breaths were practically weights, yet shallow at the same time.

“Gonna cum soon.”

“I got you. Just let it happen.”

Kenma knew you were close before you did. Hell, he was a part of your body now. Obvious signs were shown like when you tighten around him and your muscles contract, informing him everything was already in motion. The orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, taking you and your brain but not your body. In fact, it left your disappointment behind too.

Nothing happened.

It took you a second to realize this though— considering it was still one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had—but also because Kenma hadn’t stopped.

“Please,” unaware of what you were calling for, you turned to his face, but he was already so close like he was waiting for you there. He’d slowed a little, but this makes little difference already being hypersensitive. Once again, you’re grinding on him, it’s just rougher now and more effective.

You talked face to face and couldn’t decide what eye to look in. His lips were so close, and so very inviting. You kiss him.

Soft lips unite with yours meaningfully. You hadn’t known it would progress to this, however, Kenma now occupies your entire body, being, and mind. If you could dismiss how hard he was overstimulating you, just maybe you could kiss him with the passion you desired—but that was reaching because you couldn’t find the strength to kiss him back at all. Your lips were open yet hushed in all attempts to return the gesture, but your body fails you under the hands of lust.

You felt another coming. Your eyes had this faded look to them as if you weren’t here, so Kenma brought it upon himself to whisper to you.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” His voice was soft in the air.

You respond with a light headed moan. Fuck all that shit about your voice not being high and you couldn’t pornstar moan, because to some extent it was and you really could.

“K-Ken I can’t-“

“You can,” he interrupts, “anything you want baby,”

Your hand quits fidgeting with the loomed bracelets adorning his wrists to move down to holding both of his (or attempting to). The veins that stretched from his muscles all the way to his forearm could be seen clear as day. Kenma adds another finger, and doubles into you as it sinks up and to the right.

“Oh fuck, Kenma, Kenma-“ you repeated. You tried pushing him off, except you wanted him to continue, except that you were in no state of mind to make decisions. Your back arched impressively and you were on the verge of crying. This quick?

Kenma almost triples in speed. He continues to whisper to you.

“Do it. I know you can.”

You don’t feel it, but Kenma plants his feet and swivels the chair around as your mouth drops. You were pushing outward more than downward, and as Kenma pistons into you, there was no way you weren’t about to squirt. Just preferably, not on his monitor.

He kisses at your face now turned away from him. “Just like that, you’re almost there. Open your eyes.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-!” you breathe.

Kenma quickly runs back and forth over your clit encouragingly and doesn’t let up. This wasn’t a wave that rolled over you this time, but one that came up to shore first, dragged you along into sea, and sucked you under. It felt normal until it didn’t and you were releasing all over his carpet.

“You look so fucking good like this. Knew my girl could do it.”

Your hair was fucked from rolling on it. You had came so hard your body tensed and slightly cramped, rendering you idle as he continued until you were done. The clear liquid rolled down your own leg. You felt as if you were underwater. Your head bashed like there was no oxygen. Kenma was a man of few words but after you got what you deserved, he didn’t have shit to say.

He gripped your thighs, lifted them, and slowly lowered them to his. A darker color stained his sweats. Was it from you, or him? Neither of you know.

“Your girl?” you say lazily.

“I think we both know you wouldn’t have let anybody else do this,” he establishes. He was right.

sorry if it’s not as good as first!! it was supposed to come out earlier but my dumbass queued it for the wrong day 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ also did you catch the easter egg😏😏

@iwouldbangchan @hislaevv @butterflyk04 @lilmisskreideprinz @ahahadumbo @bontensbabygirl @ninefuckingoneone @hwangsyunho @privthemis @anonymoussimper @frenchinator2sickk

[zennryu]

Imagine telling Kenma you’ve never squirted.

Or rather him finding out

It was actually a really awkward conversation in the kitchen of his apartment. The fresh toast sizzled against your fingers as you removed it from the toaster, the sun shined bright through his black curtains without quit, and because it was in his disposition to be up ungodly hours, you incorrectly assumed he’d hibernate in his room so you planned to head to your friend’s house for breakfast in a full face and clothes you never wore. Or technically, a full face and clothes you only wore out to places you cared about. Otherwise, you didn’t really dress to impress.

part 1 | part 2

500 FOLLOWERS?!

Footsteps sounded from afar and you retrieved the jelly from the fridge mindlessly.

“Where we going?”

Kenma taunted from his seat found on the island stool. You assumed he’d just woken up, accompanied with doing his daily hygiene because his soft voice still had the slightest rasp to it.

“We?” You jokingly snapped back. Kenma scoffed lightheartedly at you. The refrigerator door closed with a slight push, and Kenma sighed to where he could ask again. Some almost fully black stands came to fall in front of his face as he leaned forward on the cold, stone counter and his hair was pulled into a small ponytail, nothing left of the noticeable blonde but disproportional ends that fall into his large hoodie.

“Where are you going?”

You grab the plate but forget the juice for the morning. Back you go to the fridge almost in a rush.

“I’m going to a friend’s for breakfast, it’s this party thing she hosts every year,” you explain. “Almost like a friendsgiving. She takes it suuuuper serious.”

The juice is in one hand, a random cup in another. You twist around to pour the liquid on the island instead of the main countertop so you could engage in quick conversation with Kenma. As he got older he’s become more expressive and outgoing, just willingly reserved. He has, however, become a handful; and having lived with him, you’ve seen him take shots like a champ. You see his aloofness dissolve, his eyebrow coming up the slightest bit.

“And you’re eating breakfast before going to eat breakfast?” He slowed the pace of his words around the end of the sentence like he was judging you.

“I have to eat in the morning still, or I’ll pass out before I even get there Kenma! I’m kinda a little late though so you can heckle me when I get back.”

“Uhuh…”

Kenma hummed in response with an inconspicuous smirk on his face. You wouldn’t have even seen it if it weren’t for you waiting to see his reaction of your flawless vocabulary. He was however, changing his position to leaning back in the chair, already staring you incredulously. It was somewhat close to a manspread, his hands were tucked into the hoodie pockets, and the sight was way too much for you to handle this early in the morning.

So, you turned around to tend to your idle plate with jelly-less toast on it. You didn’t like Kenma specifically, persay, you would’ve liked it if any boy looked at you like that. Yeah. Don’t think too much about it.

Anyway, with the slide of a drawer you withdrew the knife and got to work. Unbeknownst to you, Kenma had not taken his eyes off your body. Your hair was still slightly wet but it made it easier for you to style. It was up. The backless halter top you wore was connected only by a string at your nape, and it left skin between that and your skinny jeans that fell down to your open toe, clear strap heels. You were dressed perfect for the summer occasion of a girls day out. And he was absolutely sulking in it.

“You look good.”

You hate the slight pause in your actions. You hate the way you had to question if he was talking to you or not, even if you were the only one in the house. You hate that you refuse to turn around to him. You hate the giddy smile that decorated your face. You hate that you had to cover up how everything you hated affected you, so you say “Thank you; flatter me more.”

He just outwardly chuckled, and ended with a “Maybe.” He starts again, “Hey is this who you were on the phone with last night? Who’s at the party I mean.”

“Hm?” Your chin did lead over your shoulder at this. “Yes actually, I’m surprised I’m up as early as I am considering she kept me up all night.” You resume.

“Tell her I said she should break up with him.”

You agree, “I will; she definitely needs to hear it.”

…

Suddenly, you snap your head back around quick enough to give you whiplash. You don’t get embarrassed easily, but you had to be blushing like a bitch.

This time Kenma’s smirk was very noticeable. You blink warily at him.

“Ken… how much did you hear?” Your voice was soft with curiosity mixed and thrown into fear. He just shrugged casually and quickly switched to an innocent façade. One thing you learned about him over the years: he has a badass poker face. And he’s a dick.

Such a dick, in fact, that after reassuring “I wasn’t eavesdropping so I didn’t hear much,” he let you take deep breaths of relief and turn back around to lather your second piece of toast. You felt the golden, low, cat-like eyes burning through the back of your head—so with indecision and obscurity—you looked over your shoulder again. He wore a shit eating grin.

You pointed the butterknife at him accusingly.

“You fucking liar! You heard all of it!!”

Kenma just smiled menacingly.

“I did hear all of it actually; but pushing that aside, why do I feel like I’ve never heard you say some of the words you said?” He tilts his head to the side, completely dismissing you.

“Kenma!?”

“Say pussy.”

This made you stop. You found him unbelievable, and you’d never admit what hearing him say pussy does to your mind, but his head was sideways in pure amusement like he was waiting on you to do it.

“Kenma. What.”

“Say it.”

You just stared at each other.

“Pussy,” you finally repeated. After lingering in the air a bit Kenma’s eyes went wide and he threw his head back to diminish into laughter.

“Kenmaaa.” You groaned loudly. He only laughed harder. “What all did you hear? Seriously!”

He calmed down to just a grin and ushered you to be as well with the palm of his hand.

“Okay okay—mainly the part where she explains how she hates the guy because she feels like he ignores her and has never made her cum—plus some other stuff, blah blah, that’s basically it,” He rambles.

It was your turn for your eyes to run wide, so in astonishment that your body couldn’t even address the other words that rolled out his mouth so easy. “I don’t want basically, I want all of it,” you declare.

“There’s not much more unless you’re including all the other dumb shit he did? Like how he told his friends she did something even if she didn’t, and she felt invalidated about it. I have amazing input on these types of situations by the way.”

Kenma was saying all this without any negative emotion, relaying it to you with normalcy. “The only thing after that was about yourself.”

You roll your eyes, but bingo. So he did hear it. He heard what you didn’t want him to. Your face may have dropped a tiny bit.

“…What was it? About how…I have-“

“-never squirted?” He finishes. Your chest tightened a little, and your face was red with what was anger transforming into something else. His ordinary apathetic gaze was locked on yours for a tiny moment, so you made it your responsibility to look away and grab your food.

“Gotta go now, I’m already late.” You swiftly unhooked the keys from the wall and opened the door. It wasn’t his fault he heard (because to be honest you two weren’t the quietest last night during your girl talk), but just now the fact that he knew upset you. Your best friend made it seem so easy, like she does it all the time, and it just made you seem like you were missing out how she explained it.

However, on your way out, Kenma did call for you from the kitchen. “Not everyone can do it,” He said. It was reassurance, you assume, but it didn’t really come off as such. He then says (more to himself you also assume), “Not everyone can make you do it either.”

This sat with you the whole breakfast/brunch party, champagne being passed around like candy but nothing could stop you from thinking about it. Of course it being a whole room of the closest friends, she re-explained last night’s gossip, the effects hitting you again as your friends chimed in on the situation. Was it really as good as they say?

——•——

You unlocked the house door, the apartment dim and quiet. It was around four now, you weren’t completely sober, and your heels clacked along the tile.

Dropping your arm to sit your purse on the counter and hang the keys, you undo a single strap and slip the shoes off. You carry them in your hand for the journey to your room.

Of course before you can reach your door, there’s Kenma’s slightly cracked open one to remind you of what he said. Not everyone can make you do it either.

What does that even mean; can’t you do it alone? Do you need someone else for it?

You weren’t dumb and at least knew what he was implying. It was an offer. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you’re just horny. Either way you find yourself stopped in front of the entrance to his room. You don’t bother to knock, it falls open with a slight push of your free hand.

Kenma resides at his setup, on his phone, the mic wrapped around his neck. The few moving lights in his room softly radiated from his pc, making him appear to be different strong shades of red and orange depending on when you looked. He didn’t seem to be streaming. Or he could be—he isn’t the nicest to his viewers.

He casts you a glance past his hair but dismisses your presence. You don’t really ever come into his room except to just grab something and go, usually a hair product.

You take a few steps inside. Then, you leisurely drop the heels at his bedside so he finally acknowledges your company.

“Ken?” Your delicate voice breaks the silence of the outside, completely unsure if there was music running through his headphones.

He clicks his phone off for your full attention.

“What’s up? How was it?”

You continued taking slow steps forward, with only one thing on your mind. And it wasn’t the party. “It was okay.”

Kenma surveys how you have yet to halt, inching closer and closer to him. It only took a slight examination of your face to see the solemnity. Blankness. He stands up from his seat and removes the headset from himself in concern before you can get any closer.

“You sure? You don’t look-“

“-Kenma. What did you say earlier?” You whisper. He was now directly in front of you.

He pauses for a second and his face converts to disbelief. “Are we still talking about the squirt thing?” He smiles mischievously, “I was just letting you know not to worry about it so much.”

You hate that word. It’s so gross sounding, so vulgar. But you can’t bring yourself to get him to stop saying it.

“Well I have been. What happens now?” You peer strangely at each other, both acutely aware of where this was going.

“And you’re coming to me for this, why?” The ravenette taunts. He knew exactly why you were in his room right now, the curiosity having ate away at you all day. Like an itch that won’t go. You’ve gotta give in if this’ll go anywhere.

“Well you seem to know a lot about it…” you fumble with your bracelet nervously. You’ve gotten this far. “Could you…maybe help me?”

Kenma makes no sudden movements. He scans you suspiciously. A slight flush of red may have spread across your cheeks, but the darkness was protective. Hearing it actually come out of your mouth was a whole different story than imagining it.

“You want me to make you squirt?” He confirmed.

You may have physically cringed at that sentence because his hands find his sweat pockets in a ‘you said it not me’ manner.

“Yes.”

He scanned you again for good measure.

“Alright.”

With this he turned on his heel, stepped away, and sat in his gaming chair again. You stood there, unaware of what to do.

“Come here.”

You follow him to his setup. He sighs because he could see how uncomfortable you were.

“What usually do you do to get off?” He questions. He twists you around by your hips, your back facing him.

“Uh…It’s just kinda alone in my room I guess. I use my fingers usually.” You tried to keep your voice low enough to cure your embarrassment. Kenma, however, seemed to be doing this with ease. In fact, as he was asking you questions he massaged your hips and waist soothingly.

“Is that it? You don’t watch or think about anything?”

You turn your head, “No. Am I supposed to?”

“I mean it’s not mandatory but you gotta think about something.”

“Whatever. Jeez, Kenma just say you think about me already.” You quip. Whatever he was doing was working, you were loosening up.

“Only when I’m about to cum. How do you like to be talked to?”

What?

You weren’t even going to ask about it. It was probably a joke anyway.

A moment of processing silence passed. “I don’t really know how I like to be talked to. Guys have tried to praise or degrade me but it never worked, so I just assumed I didn’t like the talk at all.”

He tugs on the shirt string at your neck. He watched you tense up at the action, so he rubs your trap in slow, circular motions instead. “If I say I like to be praised, all they do is say ‘good girl’ over and over. Gets kinda boring you know?” Is this you venting to Kenma about your boring sex life? Of course. You mess with your nails as you face away from him. Not for long though, because he turns you around.

“This is what I meant by not everyone can make you do it. Only you can guarantee yourself the highest pleasure 100% of the time,” Kenma drags you by your belt loops so you fall into the chair against him, “and me.”

He was so close now, your knees sliding under the chair arm. His breath could be felt on your skin and his hands were still pawing at your waist to glide up your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to put your full weight on him. However, he pulls you down anyway, and manually places your hands along his clothed chest so you could calm down. That was all he wanted from you right now. To relax and to take deep breaths.

“Warnings would be great Ken.”

“Yeah, but you said you don’t like to talk.”

“I don’t.”

“So should I warn you about how hard you make me dressed up like that?”

You moderately gasped at the comment placed right into your collarbone. You pressed down a tiny bit farther to see if you could feel it. You could. His breath fanned against your body and airy kisses lead.

You wonder where all of Kenma’s shyness over the years went because now you would never have guessed him to be like this. The friction fuels him to push you more.

Kenma could go on and on about these random intrusive thoughts he only gets at night—the only time where you seem to engulf his brain. Living with you over the years has been fine with zero temptation, but recently, it’s been like a hormone specifically for you snapped in his body. He feels the way you roll your hips the smallest bit for yourself. You liked the talk, just not the guys.

Soft fingers pull on a single string near your hair, releasing your breasts from the top as the fabric folded downwards between the two of you.

[zennryu]

“babe i messed up, we gotta go bald.”

“no!” you grab onto the electric buzzer and fight against him, holding gojo back. “wait, let’s think this through!”

“look at my hair, it’s horrible! i can’t go out like this!” your boyfriend whines and though he resists your pull, you know he isn’t putting force behind the gesture.

“you look…” you yank your eyes away from his head, suddenly struggling to look at him. “fine.”

“you paused!”

“it’s fine, gojo!”

“it’s not! if my lover can’t even look at me without laughing, what are my students going to think?” gojo checks himself out in the mirror of your apartment's bathroom, turning his head side to side to observe the lousy slash he had given himself.

“their opinion of you can’t go any lower.” you reassure him. “and it’s fine, really. just, put down that shaver, that’s it, put it down on the counter and i can fix your mess for you.”

gojo gives you a wary look but eventually relaxes his hold. you pick up the shaver and the handle is still warm from his touch. turning it on, you let the hum of the device fill the silence.

after gojo had decided to abandon his glasses for a blindfold, he realised simply letting his hair grow out in whatever direction would not cut it anymore, else he wanted to look ridiculous.

when he complained to you, you absentmindedly told him to get a haircut without thinking of the consequences of your actions. of course gojo wouldn’t just go to a barber, of course gojo would think he could style his own hair and of course gojo would pick the worst haircut, making the first move without another thought. and now, after running the shaver a few centimetres up from the nape of his neck, the both of you realised that he should never be allowed near a electric shaver ever again.

you exhale. "okay, i've got this."

gojo looks at you through the mirror. "don't stress. worst case scenario, i can just buzz everything off."

you stare at him. "i cannot love you if you're bald."

"seriously?"

"what's with the look? would you love me if i was bald?"

gojo doesn't even hesitate. "yes!"

that makes you feel guilty. you don't comment on the topic any more, instead channelling your attention to the shaver in your hands and the white hair above your boyfriend's head.

“hey, don’t ignore me. you wouldn’t love me if i was bald? what’s next, you wouldn’t love me if i was a worm?”

you bite your lip to stop your face from contorting into a grimace. “i’m trying to focus here.”

“and i’m trying to make sure there’s still love in our relationship.” he turns around and looks at you. “do you love me?”

looking at him, a small smile slips through your disgusted expression. your boyfriend was regularly annoying, but there were times when his childish behaviour was more endearing than irritating. this was one of those rare times.

“yeah, i do.” you admit.

“prove it.”

“huh?”

his hand closes around yours, the one holding the buzzer. “i’m going bald.”

“no you’re not!”

“this is my hair, i get to decide what to do with it!”

“gojo!” you quickly reach over and unplug the shaver. “let’s be rational!”

he looks at you with bleary eyes. “i love you.”

“me too, which is why i can’t let you go bald.”

“you’re lying. if you loved me, it wouldn’t matter how much hair i have on my scalp.”

you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. when you peek through your fingers, gojo is still giving you a wounded look. “okay fine, i would still love you if you went bald. it honestly doesn't matter to me, but is this what you really want?”

“and if i was a worm?”

you look away, busying yourself with tidying your already tidy sink. “are you going bald or not?”

“answer my question.” his hand wraps around yours. “you can’t leave here until you give me a response i can accept.”

you try to shake him off. “i’m not backing down on this, i will not love you if you turned into a worm.”

“i would—”

“no you wouldn’t! how would you kiss me if i was small and slimy?”

he pauses. “i don’t need to kiss you to show my love, it’s just a side benefit.”

“okay, and what about our species difference? what if i find a handsome worm and fall in love with him? he would treat me better since we’re both worms.”

“i would keep you in a cage so that you'd never meet another worm.” he says, completely serious.

“is that what love means to you?”

“i’ll fill the cage with all your favourite things!” he brings your hand up to his cheek and presses against it, littering kisses onto your palm when you don’t react. "it's also to keep you safe! you'd be completely defenseless as a worm."

"well, if you were a worm i wouldn't be able to keep you safe. you're the strongest, if you can't protect yourself then how could i?"

"that's something different. i wouldn’t be the strongest, i would be a worm."

"an unlovable one."

he drops your hand and grabs the electric shaver before you can. "i'm going bald."

you don’t stop him this time. “fine, go ahead. but when you’re hairless i am not taking the blame for this. if you even start to complain to me i will plug both my ears and walk away. that means if your students take photos of you and spread it like the plague, i won't stop them.”

“i knew it.” gojo says after a moment’s silence. “you don’t love me anymore.”

“if there was ever a time that i did.”

“when did you start falling out of love?”

this was slowly getting out of hand. “gojo.”

“when i ate your chcolate? i apologised, what else do you want from me? want me to kneel?”

“gojo!”

“is it because i used your expensive skincare? i was curious because it came in a little pipette thing and i wanted to squeeze it real bad.”

you hiss. “i knew that was you.”

“you seriously believed me when i told you it wasn’t me? we live together and we live alone, who else would it be?”

a humourless chuckle escapes your lips. perhaps gojo detects your intentions before you can act on them with his six eyes, because he freezes, backing up against the edge of your sink.

in his fear, you yank the shaver out of his hand and flick the power switch back on. the buzz fills the air.

“you’re going bald.”

“i was just kidding! i don’t want to be bald!” gojo leaps out of his chair and heads for the door. unfortunately, you grab onto his shirt and pull him back.

when gojo walks out of your bathroom a few hours later, his head is lighter than when he first entered.

sped wrote this so i could post smth it’s so stupid i’m crying