#chabudai

[studio-des-br]

Chabudai

A chabudai is a traditional Japanese table that is low to the ground and typically used while sitting on tatami mats or directly on the floor. It is a common piece of furniture in Japanese households, especially in rooms designed in a more traditional style. Here are its key characteristics:

1. Low Height: A chabudai is usually around 15 to 30 centimeters (6 to 12 inches) high. Its height allows people to sit comfortably on the floor, often in a cross-legged position (seiza or agura) or on zabuton (floor cushions).

2. Folding Legs: Many chabudai tables have collapsible legs, making them easy to fold and store when not in use, which is ideal for small living spaces.

3. Simple and Functional Design: The design is minimalistic, often featuring a circular or rectangular tabletop. The simplicity of the chabudai emphasizes practicality and is in line with Japanese aesthetic values like wabi-sabi (finding beauty in simplicity).

4. Material: Chabudai tables are typically made of wood, with natural finishes that highlight the grain and texture of the material.

5. Versatile Use: A chabudai serves multiple purposes in a household. It can be used for meals, as a workspace, for tea ceremonies, or simply as a table for daily activities.

6. Cultural Significance: The chabudai is not just a functional piece of furniture but also symbolizes traditional Japanese family life. Gathering around the chabudai for meals or conversations reflects a sense of unity and intimacy.

In modern times, though Western-style furniture has become common in Japan, the chabudai remains a cherished symbol of traditional life.

Chabudai

Uma chabudai é uma mesa tradicional japonesa que é baixa e normalmente usada enquanto se está sentado em tatames ou diretamente no chão. É uma peça comum de mobiliário em lares japoneses, especialmente em salas projetadas em um estilo mais tradicional. Aqui estão suas principais características:

1. Baixa Altura: Uma chabudai geralmente tem cerca de 15 a 30 centímetros de altura. Sua altura permite que as pessoas se sentem confortavelmente no chão, muitas vezes com as pernas cruzadas (seiza ou agura) ou em almofadas chamadas zabuton.

2. Pernas Dobráveis: Muitas mesas chabudai têm pernas dobráveis, o que facilita seu armazenamento quando não estão em uso, sendo ideal para pequenos espaços de convivência.

3. Design Simples e Funcional: O design é minimalista, geralmente apresentando um tampo circular ou retangular. A simplicidade da chabudai enfatiza a praticidade e está alinhada com os valores estéticos japoneses, como o wabi-sabi (encontrar beleza na simplicidade).

4. Material: As mesas chabudai são tipicamente feitas de madeira, com acabamentos naturais que destacam os veios e a textura do material.

5. Uso Versátil: Uma chabudai serve a múltiplos propósitos em uma casa. Ela pode ser usada para refeições, como espaço de trabalho, para cerimônias de chá ou simplesmente como uma mesa para atividades diárias.

6. Significado Cultural: A chabudai não é apenas uma peça funcional de mobiliário, mas também simboliza a vida familiar tradicional japonesa. Reunir-se ao redor da chabudai para refeições ou conversas reflete um senso de união e intimidade.

Nos dias de hoje, embora o mobiliário de estilo ocidental tenha se tornado comum no Japão, a chabudai permanece um símbolo apreciado da vida tradicional.

[bearbench-img]

チャブダイ

ちゃぶ台は、日本の伝統的な家具の一種で、低い脚が付いた小型の丸いテーブ��のことです。一般的に、座敷や和室などで座布団や座椅子に座って使用するテーブルとして知られています。 ちゃぶ台の「ちゃぶ」は、中国語で「低い」を意味する「低（チャーブ）」に由来すると言われています。低いテーブルであることを示す言葉として「茶卓（ちゃたく）」や「卓袱台（しっぽくだい）」などの呼び方もあります。 ちゃぶ台は、その低い高さから、座った姿勢で食事や作業をするのに適しており、日本の伝統的な生活様式に合った家具として発展してきました。一般的に、ちゃぶ台は木製で、丸い天板に3本または4本の脚が付いたシンプルな構造をしています。脚は折りたたみ式になっているものもあり、収納や持ち運びに便利です。

手抜きイラスト集

[diy-dynamite]

Television Influence

Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader

So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3

CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing

Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)

So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.

********

You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.

This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.

He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.

That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.

An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?

You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.

Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.

You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.

He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.

You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.

"You home! You home!"

He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.

"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"

He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.

You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.

"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"

Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.

"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."

You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.

"Want... try something."

"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"

He giggled. "No!"

Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"

Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.

He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"

"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."

He watched you expectantly, so you continued.

"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."

"You love me?"

This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....

Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.

"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."

He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.

You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.

.

.

.

"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."

"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"

He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"

.

.

.

He saw people kiss?

"You—"

He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.

"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.

"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."

He tilted his head.

You said it again. "Kiss."

"....Ck...ck..."

"Kiss." You nodded.

"Ki...iss?"

You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."

He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."

He didn't.

When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.

You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.

"....Me kiss you," you said.

It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.

********

Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO

It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes

[lumenniveus]

Simmers, I bring you gifts once more. This time the stuff smells like bamboo and green tea on simmering coals.

According to legends, the Onryō is a vengeful spirit. "Resentful, ruthless, and determined to pay back wrongs done to it in life" huh? Sounds like it fits me just right. This set is my revenge. It is what I had hoped and wanted from Snowy Escape that EA did not deliver. While I am not Japanese myself, I have great respect for the people living there and hope the love I put in it shows through. Greetings from central Europe!✌️

For Onryō I focused on functionality and simplicity over grandeur. If you expect this to be an anime set, it is not. It's tagged as "basic" and "modern" design styles, but don't let that stop you from being creative. This set was made with as much love as it was made to show EA that, yes, not everything has to be the same normed re-mesh over and over again.

Download: Merged version Zip Folder version

Look below the cut for more previews and the catalog

This set comes with a lot of interactive furniture and some build objects that are designed to blend and mix with as many other sets and packs as possible. Some highlights are:

Blinds that open and close

Zaisu and chabudai styled chairs and tables

Functional bags that double as dressers

A working irori fire pit

Two butsudan, each a different size

Here is the set mixed together with some furniture from Snowy Escape. Works well together, nah? I'm personally really happy with it and I hope you find it useful.

[vrystalius]

Spiralling Obsession

Douma is laughing at himself for the silliness of writing this stupid letter, yet his hand just keeps writing and writing.

Pairing: Obsessed!Douma x follower!gn!reader

Chabudai: Chabudai are used for various purposes, such as study tables, work benches, or dinner tables (shokutaku (食卓、しょくたく)). In the winter, the chabudai is often replaced by a kotatsu, another type of short-legged table equipped with a removable top and a heater underneath. (Click on the word Chabudai for an example picture!)

(Douma slowly spiralling, yandere-ish)

His legs were crossed over on another as Douma sat quickly in front of his Chabudai, slightly hunched over the surface, staring at the empty paper he prepared to write on. He was spinning the fountain pen between his fingers, unsure how to start.

Gods, Douma doesn’t even know what exactly he’s writing. He can’t concentrate on anything of late! His head is always fuzzy, his chest stinging and his stomach hurting badly to the point he couldn’t eat a meal properly! Countless beautiful women and men were wasted on sad attempts to keep at least a little down before gagging all over again… All because Douma can’t get your damn face out of his head. It’s infuriating, really.

He sighed deeply and dipped the pen in a small pot of ink, hesitantly preparing to write down all his thoughts. The Founder wasn’t planning on ever giving you this letter since it was meant only to gather his damn thoughts so he can finally concentrate on things for once.

His pen was rapidly writing things down, almost obsessively.

» I can’t seem to get you out of my head. And believe me, I’ve tried. I have tried.

» It’s become unbearable, actually. Isn’t that hilarious? Usually I don’t think a lot about my followers. All their sorrows are the same, so why bother thinking more about them, right? I have better things to do after all. But lately, there’s been this nagging thought, this damning presence, always lurking, always interrupting, corrupting, my damn head.

Douma stopped for a moment to take a breath. His hand was a little shaky and the words he wrote down were almost etched into the table from the sheer intensity of pressing his pen down. He closed his eyes for a moment and threw his head back to take a breather. But every time he closed his eyes, your face appeared on his thoughts again. The shaking in his hand stopped and Douma’s shoulders sagged slightly. Just merely thinking of you was comforting to him for some reason. The thought of your smile and your eager eyes locked onto him, hanging onto every word that is leaving his mouth caused a nauseating warmth to spread all over his body. He took a small breather before continuing to write.

» I can barely eat. Do you know that? I can’t even enjoy the taste of human flesh without this gnawing ache in my stomach, as if I’ve swallowed something wrong. At first, I thought it was just my body reacting strangely, but no. It’s you. Somehow, every time I try to focus on something else, your face, your voice, your scent invades my mind and twists everything. You’re under my skin, like some kind of poison, and it’s making me sick.

» I never thought I could feel this way. Not me. I’m incapable of feeling emotions, I was born without them. But now… now I’m writing this ridiculous letter, hoping that if I just get the words out, maybe my thoughts will stop circling around you like vultures. It’s absurd. You’re nothing special. Just another plain follower, just another boring human. So why do I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside out every time I don’t think about you? Or even when I do, I feel like stepping out in the sun or experiencing the wrath of the gods that I never believed existed.

Douma was now fully hunched over his desk, ink splatter decorating his aggressively written letter by carelessly dipping it into the ink pot before immediately going back to writing, letting the ink splatter.

» I should end this. End you. That would be the logical thing to do. Snap the thread that’s tangled around me and be free again. It should be so simple. But every time I think about doing it, I get even sicker at the thought of loosing you. I’d rather endure the torture you currently give me than even think about killing you. For now.

» I need to do something, anything, to make this stop. I can’t keep writing like this—it’s useless, it’s not working. I think it’s getting even worse. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to put these thoughts down, maybe I think that if I see them on the page, they’ll make sense. But they don’t. Nothing makes sense anymore.

» I just need to-

Douma slammed his fountain pen down onto the chabudai, breaking it. He lost his patience with himself after realising how pathetic he’s actually sounding. Is this how Gyutaro feels when he scratches his skin open to the point of skinning himself? Because Douma sure as hell feels like ripping all his skin off right now just to finally silence his ever circling mind.

His thoughts kept running and running, circling and circling, all about you.

You damn seductress cursed him, didn’t you?

Damn you.

🎃

Flufftober prompt: “Written letter but never sent”

It’s supposed to be fluff but I decided to make it angsty! Hope you enjoy! I missed writing for this silly man. This is my second attempt to write a fic for him, I actually started writing another and struggled hard so I switched over to this. The other fic was actually really fluffy and sweet, all kisses and cuddles and this is.. well. Yeah.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

My event Masterlist 🎃

[sahisan]

kuronushi sex‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯💯💯🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🔥💥🔥💥🔥💥🔥💥🔥💥🦅🦅🦅😼😼😈😈😈😈😈🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽

★ summary: kuronushi x fem!reader. cockwarming w kuronushi while he writes his poems.＾⁠3⁠＾⁠♪

☆ cw: nsfw. drabble. mention of reader wearing a kimono. cockwarming. nushi's being nice. 431 words.

☾ a/n: fun fact that the kanji 'nushi' in 'kuronushi' means 'lord' (живіть тепер з цим))).

kuronushi's hand dunks the tip of the brush into the small inkstone with the finest inazuman ink. his hand carefully writes kanji on a sheet of paper, and he seems completely unfazed by the fact that you've been cockwarming him for the last forty minutes or so.

as you're starting to writhe and buck your hips just the slightest bit, his other hand finds its way under the hem of your kimono, setting itself on your hip in a grip - pushing your hips back down onto his throbbing length, and you nearly moan, immediately trying to hush yourself, biting down onto your lower lip, face hiding in the crook of his neck.

"keep quiet, will you?" kuronushi coos into your ear with a sultry voice, hot breath against it's shell. the walls of your cunt nearly clench at how sensual his voice is. "can't have me making mistakes in my poems."

you whine. "nushi-i..."

"no." he stoically replies, then smirking. "i thought you agreed on this willingly, didn't you?" he says, and you can't continue arguing - he's simply stating the truth.

nushi's hand proceeds to move from your hip to the hair on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your soft locks as he grins and starts talking again. "you wanna cum, huh?" he makes a guess, knowing damn well that he's right - your cunt basically aches for him to finally fuck you properly.

your eyes light up, head inching up to look at him.

"y-yes!.. please, i want to cum so bad..." you whine yet again, only to be shushed by his finger that presses against your lips. his face comes dangerously close to yours, eyes burning into your soul.

"quiet." he says, tone of voice close to stern. his eyes watch as a pout appears on your face - he grins. "you're letting me finish this one poem, with no interruptions and sounds and i'm letting you cum." you almost yelp an agreement out, before his finger presses into your lips again. you stay silent. he smiles. "however, if you'll start writhing again - i'm starting another poem and you're sitting on my cock until i'm finished with another one. do we have a deal, hun?"

noticing that you're taking a bit more time to think, unfocused because of the feeling inside you, his other hand leaves the brush near the inkstone on the chabudai table, and finds your throbbing clit, gently pinching it - enough for you to snap out of your thoughts, whimpering a quiet "yes", lips parting.

kuronushi smirks, fingers picking up the brush again. "good girl."

[heich0e]

keishin lives in a little one room apartment attached to the back of sakanoshita market.

calling it an apartment is a bit of a stretch—it's more a converted storage room than anything. there's a door to a cramped bathroom on one wall, a makeshift kitchen comprised of a hotplate and a mini fridge along the other. the room is scarcely large enough to fit the lumpy sofa his grandfather was getting rid of years ago and an old chabudai that's missing a leg so it's propped up on side by an old milk crate, and that leaves just enough floor space to lay out a futon at the end of the day (though he often just falls asleep on the sofa, and wakes up in the morning with terrible back pain.) it's a humble space, to say the very least, but it's his—and it affords him a bit more freedom than living in the family house.

you live in an apartment just down the road.

the first time ukai visits your place, the very first thing he notices how much it smells like you—clean and sweet and dizzying. the apartment feels warm and soft like you too. it's tidy but lived in, with traces of you filled in to every corner—the photos on the wall, the colourful mug on the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the houseplants flourishing near the window with their lush bright green leaves. your apartment is so different to his. you're so different to him.

but there's just something about it that immediately feels like home.

[mania-sama]

iwaoi, but's it's iwaizumi who had always wanted to leave japan. he found his every day life in miyagi stifling. he hated seeing the same classmates over and over again with their disagreeable opinions and close-minded worldviews, hated the way the people in his neighborhood all knew each other and their business, hated the way it rained and hated the way the sun rose every single day. he hated the very idea of staying in miyagi more than he had to.

he talked to oikawa about this regularly, ever since they could form thoughts that ventured outside of their little realm in japan. first, he told oikawa he'd move out of miyagi. he'd find an apartment in tokyo, or a job as a farmhand in hokkaido, or anywhere else that isn't miyagi and the life he's had to grow up in. then, as he got older, he went a step further.

china, he'd mumble oikawa during the first class of the day in middle school.

the phillippines, he'd shout at oikawa while peppering a volleyball.

somewhere further, he'd finally admitted to oikawa while walking home from a late-night home court game, his gaze trained on the ground with the most vulnerability he'd shown in years. like america. i've applied to a college in america.

oikawa had laughed at him on most times. iwaizumi knew oikawa liked life in miyagi; he got along with his classmates fine, girls liked him, he loved his family and their neighborhood, loved the sunrise and the rain. iwaizumi knew this because oikawa had always disagreed with him on those subjects.

but liking life wasn't enough when oikawa's goals were set further than what he would be constrained to at home. loving japan wasn't enough when japan didn't love him.

argentina, oikawa had whispered, miserable, to him for the first time near the end of their first year in high school. he'd seen kageyama around. he'd seen the way his serves had gotten better and better and better.

their planes left mere weeks from each other. oikawa first, to argentina, with tears in his eyes and a sharp call to not be stranger. iwaizumi left second, wishing his family a farewell with his heart full to finally leave.

iwaizumi had liked california enough. he was entertained, if not occasionally confused, by the manner of young adult americans. he had thought, originally, that he wouldn't miss japan. maybe he'd miss his family and the two friends he'd left, but nothing else. he thought the pang in his chest when his american roommate and newfound friends went out for a chicken wing restaurant and not onigiri, when they spoke exclusively english (sometimes spanish) and not japanese, when there were beds and air mattresses and not futons, that he was missing familiarity, is all. he only missed not feeling out of place.

oikawa had shared with him, over their many calls, his own struggles with homesickness. but, oikawa had told him over grainy Facetime, my team has done everything to make me feel at home. spanish isn't as hard as i thought it'd be! i'm going to make this work. even if i miss you and japan. i just... i need this. i need argentina.

both he and oikawa managed to make it home for christmas after only a few months into their respective journeys into the americas. they arrived at different times, though, so iwaizumi made the trip home from tokyo alone. he took two trains, then a taxi closer to his house. he saw the billboards in his own language. he watched people that looked like himself. they went to restraunts with onigiri. their seating would be chabudai and not high tables and booths. he saw familiar streets and familiar faces in his neighborhood.

he came to his house, where he knew exactly where the patch of grass his childhood cat was buried in the backyard. he could see phantoms of himself riding his bike up and down the road. he could see where he caught butterflies, where oikawa chased him with a handful of worms.

he came home, and his family was waiting for him. it all rushed over him, when he saw them again. all the anxiety of not being able to get to them fast if they got into an accident. constantly wondering what he'd be doing if he was in japan and not at uc-irvine. thinking about how much he preferred his home culture to the strangeness of the united states.

he met with oikawa next, who regaled him on his adventures in argentina as if they hadn't talked nearly everyday since their planes took them away from home.

i'm going to stay, oikawa told him during a late evening stroll after dinner, his eyes alight with happiness and success. i love it in argentina. it's everything i want and need.

iwaizumi was happy for him. but, iwaizumi knew he would not be content doing the same.

i'm coming back home after i get my bachelor's, he told oikawa after a second's pause, letting the coldness of the evening wash over him, watching the sun set in the way he'd spent hating his entire life. america is nice, but japan is where i'm meant to be.

he found that he didn't mind the rain when he was no longer seventeen and hating his classmates. he didn't mind staring out the window of the house he grew up in when he wasn't sixteen and desperate to leave. he'd been to the other side of the fence, and the grass simply wasn't any greener.

and he knew he'd be okay with that, eventually, even if a part of him wondered if he was giving up. even if that part of him wanted to riot and rage and scream at the idea of staying in the place he'd always told everyone he'd leave.

oikawa looked at him, then, with his eyes still bright but shining with a different kind of light. and that's perfectly fine, oikawa said to him, his voice low and earnest.

there was not a hint of condescension. nothing that said, you gave up. you are worth nothing. you will be nothing. oikawa meant it when he said that it was fine that leaving wasn't all iwaizumi had chalked it up to be. his tone said, in every way, nothing has changed. you will be just as good here as you would be anywhere else. you have not given up. there is nothing wrong with letting yourself be happy.

somehow, that was more reassuring than any of the faux comforts he'd been trying to console himself with.

[dejwrld]

⤷‧₊˚ oh no, yoruichi shihouin has another subordinate under her spell.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, usage of y/n, 2nd pov, reader is part of 2nd division, slight canon bleach verse, power dynamic, reader have a slight background because you truly can't write a x reader fic with a blank reader, finger sucking, top!yoruichi, nipple play, breasts play, clit play, usage of spit, tribbing/scissoring, bottom!reader, mdni

sticky note from deja — was listening to the best 1d member solo album and remembered that him & kehlani came out with this banger.

You had a crush. The crush in question is your superior. The head of the Shihouin clan. The captain of the 2nd Division. The commander in chief of Onmitsukidō. The Yoruichi Shihouin. This was bad—quite reckless if you were going to be honest with yourself and your delusions. Especially as a subordinate of hers. Merely a member of the Onmitsukidō and Division 2 who was still an outcast due to traveling rumors of favoritism due to how much and how long you’ve been by Yoruichi’s side since you joined. So long that you’ve developed a crush on Yoruichi that you didn’t even think felt right.

She was your captain. You weren’t even supposed to be looking at her in that manner. It wasn’t like nothing could ever happen between you two—that would break some rules, right? Were there even any rules about what you were mentally alluding to? Maybe. Did you care about these possible rules? No….Maybe. Having a crush on your captain can get complicated. It was a major distraction. How can you complete tasks that you were assigned if your mind keeps lingering off to think about the raven-haired woman?

“Your head has been in the clouds lately, can you keep up out there?” A voice interrupts your thoughts before you regain your composure.  

When you glanced up from the paperwork you were assigned to do, you saw Soi Fon waltzing in to possibly see if you were working. She tended to do that since you joined Division 2. You would have thought that Yoruichi herself told her to do the micromanaging the young woman has done since you joined. However, you just saw it as Soi Fon wanting what’s best for Yoruichi. Which was having the most skilled and ambitious fighters at her side in the Onmitsukidō. You didn’t take offense to it because you mentally were admitting that in your head indeed had been in the clouds. But would you admit that to her? No. 

“Of course,” You uttered as your eyes glanced up from your paperwork. “Can you?” Your lips coil into a grin seeing Soi Fon tip toe into the room.

Light as a feather, you would always describe the young woman because you never know when she’s walking behind it. It was amazing—quite imaginable if you asked yourself. You and Soi Fon’s relationship was odd. It wasn’t like it was bad blood between you two. You just can sense that she didn’t trust you. But they didn’t shock you, you did join Division 2 quite late and in complimentary of Yamamoto who was a good friend of Grandma’s. Hush rumors went around that your being here was merely a favor after your grandma didn’t know what else to do with you after the third marriage proposals went into one ear and out the other with you. 

You can feel her presence as she sits in front of the chabudai watching you do paperwork. It was frankly the only thing you did despite knowing how to fight—really well, actually. Your pending crush on the captain did blossom from just seeing her out of the blue (that was possible and you oddly believed in love at first sight, okay?), it blossomed from the late-night training of catching you up with everyone else. Which you were extremely grateful for. However, no one knew about this. Not even Soi Fon. Sometimes when the woman would be her usual overbearing self, you wanted to gloat about the training you’ve had with the captain. Purposely knowing how much that would crawl under Soi Fon’s skin after her blunt comments that have been thrown jabbing at you constantly. 

“Of course, I can.” She utters in disbelief that you would even question that. “It’s just odd, it’s as if you’ve popped up in thin air.” She hums slowly watching you write.

“It’s none of your business.” You added. “Don’t you have some task to do or something?”

“You’ve been here for hmm, three months now and have yet been assigned to-“ 

Your words were interrupted by the sound of the door of the room sliding open. Your eyes saw another member of Division 2 claiming that Yoruichi wanted to see you. She probably wanted the paperwork you were doing. You stood up collecting your things eyeing Soi Fon’s expression. Mentally taking a bite at how it changed at the sound of the captain’s name leaving someone’s lips. You didn’t even wish her farewell out of respect like usual, but instead made your way to Yoruichi’s chambers through the crisp night. 

Your mind raced with thoughts of why she would want to talk to you. You stayed out of trouble and practically kept to yourself. You ensured paperwork was done thoroughly—even triple-check it on some days. But when you stepped through the doors, you were expecting to be scolded. However, the energy in the room felt calming. So instantly you relaxed. Your shoulders fell with ease and you found yourself unclenching your first anticipating the worst.

“I been meaning to talk to you all day, but have been swamped with other matters.” Yoruichi beckons for you to come further in and you did what you were told. 

You haven’t been in her chambers before, so automatically this felt strange. As if it was tilting over the boundaries that you told yourself you would put up as your crush only blossomed more. But who were you to defy your captain, especially given that she has helped you tremendously? 

“I have some news for you, but I’m not sure if it’s good or bad news.” She sighs as she plops down on the pillows. 

You sat down on one of the floor pillows, your eyes immediately going to the paperwork that was on the small table. 

“I didn’t want to pry that old man in Division 1 about you and being who I am, I had to do some digging.” Yoruichi’s lips form a straight line before she sips from her cup. “You’re one special young woman, Y/N.” She adds. 

Then it hit you that the paperwork on the table was about you. From your bloodline to the mystery event that made your grandma send you away in the first place. You had a feeling that could come back to haunt you. You were considered a cursed child, rumors going around that it was due to your mother’s infidelity. You didn’t believe it until that night. The night you nearly killed a man you were originally betrothed to. You didn’t remember much from that night. It was as if you blacked out and when you finally came to your senses, you held a a knife to the man’s throat. 

“Are you going to-”

“For you to even think that is insulting, to say the least.” Yoruichi’s fingers traced alongside the rim of the cup she was sipping on. Her eyes glance over your confused expression before speaking once more. “If you train hard enough, you can control whatever is that is inside of you. We have worked together and I know you can

Your faces were inches apart, you could smell the scent of her. It smelt comforting and intoxicating. Your mind was yelling at you to call it a night. That you should head off to bed early considering your tasks for Soi Fon in the morning. But the pulse in between your thighs said something completely different.

You lean forward, your elbows resting on the table. “I don’t think so, I nearly killed someone.”

“And that’s why you’ll be assisting Soi Fon, tomorrow.” 

“Seriously? She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you.” Yoruichi lets out a boastful laugh before leaning forward also. “She just doesn’t trust you.”

“And possibly jealous I’m stealing her time with you.” You uttered gaining a snicker from Yoruichi. 

The two of you sat in silence before Yoruichi stated, “You’ll do fine. I’m sure of it. I have seen you train. When you’re in your element, you truly know what you’re doing.” She grins at you and your cheeks instantly heat. 

The distance between you two was practically nonexistent and frankly, you wanted to delusionally admit that each passing second—you moved closer. 

Kiss her, Y/N.

You did just that without thinking about the consequences. But that was just you, you made decisions without thinking about the consequences. It’s the reason why you were here in the first place. It was the reason why your grandmother sent you away from the family estate. 

And she kissed back. 

This was wrong, right? The taste of Yoruichi’s lips on yours was wrong. You shouldn’t have been able to taste the sake she previously was drinking. This was breaking the rules you made up in your head during your time being here. During your time training with her, you can play catch-up with the rest of her comrades. Her lips linger upon your elegant-shaped jawline, trailing harsh kisses while her fingers are undoing your attire. Ultimately you can stop her, you can stop all of this and head to your room to listen to the sound of crickets creating late-night tunes. But you didn’t. You enjoyed this—correction, you were longing for this. Perhaps just this moment would set you straight. Just this moment would have you pushing your jarring thoughts about the captain out of your mind now that you kissed her. Or maybe this can go truly wrong? You two can cross this boundary and it’ll never be the same. 

You guess you’ll figure that out when you get there though.

Her hands cup at your exposed breast, fingers rolling your marbled nipples in between them gaining a moan from you. For once your previous complaints about how far Yoruichi’s chambers were from the rest weren’t there because you didn’t think no one would hear your quivering moans. Her lips trail down to your collarbone and back to your lips while she continuously rolls your brown-shaded hardened nipples between her fingers. Occasionally yanking at them to gain a yelp from you so she can let her tongue slither into your mouth. Her fingers that previously toyed with your nipples like they were stress balls travel down below your waist, fingers climbing into your panties that dampened at her previous motions. But before Yoruichi did anything else, she stopped.

She was perhaps having the same thoughts you were having. How inappropriate was this? How this shouldn’t be happening? How wrong was this? But as she broke the kiss, to stared at your exposed chest. Your breasts were fully exposed and you were thinking that maybe this is where you should stop this from happening, but Yoruichi’s words took you by shock.

“Take your clothes off,” 

Her words didn’t come off as harsh, but they didn’t come off as soft either. Either or, you did what you were told, disrobing your uniform and tossing it to the side. The coolness of the night caused a chill to run over your body. Or it could have been Yoruichi’s gaze with her golden eyes. Felt like you were under strict supervision by a stealthy cat that didn’t want you to get away. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat before eventually, Yoruichi’s back upon you. Harsh kisses, spit being shared, and a throbbing clit that was playfully being toyed with. The captain was driving you insane as each minute went by. Your pussy throbbed for some form of action and when you anticipated that Yoruichi would finally cave and give you what you wanted, you were met with her edging you on. 

She grabs you closer after prompting your leg upon her shoulder. The beaded anklet your grandma gave you years ago brushes against Yoruichi’s ear and even the sight of that had your cheeks heat in anticipation. Her fingers drag across your swollen lips, caressing them delicately like they were soft pillows. Her index and middle fingers found a place in your mouth. Your saliva coating her slender fingers that you wished were inside of you.

“Suck them.” She says, her voice is a sultry whisper.

You did what you were told. Sucking on her finger as if it was the best thing ever. Rings of saliva coating them without care before Yoruichi’s letting them toy with your pussy. Your body reacted immediately, slick coating the inside of your thighs as she’s letting her fingers rub at your clit in slow circles. Your toes curled in anticipation as you’re glancing down at the way her skilled fingers toyed with your clit. Your essence stained her fingers like a sin while you let out breathy whimpers to ensure how Yoruichi was making you feel. 

“Look at how wet you are, kitten.” She teases, fingers rubbing teasing circles on your throbbing bud. Her index and middle fingers circle around your entrance and like a sex-deprived woman—you anticipated her to slide her slim fingers inside you (that’s what you wanted). But teasingly she’s back rubbing at your clit, getting enjoyment at the sight of you whither below her. 

Yoruichi was well aware that you were about to cum. She can tell by the look of pure ecstasy on your face. Your eyebrows burrow together attractively and if Yoruichi concentrates hard enough, she can even see your eyes beginning to water. Greedily, Yoruichi slows down the pace of her fingers nipping at your clit. Each second she slows down her motions, she watches as your eyes light up in complete dread as your orgasm is tugged away from you instantly. She’s letting your leg drop from her shoulders without a care, leaving you a panting naked mess while she removes her clothes. 

You thought to pitch yourself. Perhaps, you were sleeping, in some form of dream. But with each layer that was removed from your captain’s body causing you to gawk at her beauty—you realized that this was real. That you were about to have the privilege to see the head of the Shihouin clan bare, nude, naked…and your mind was spinning at the thought. Your heart was bouncing around your chest as quickly as it was beating. Even if the woman snatched your orgasm away as if it merely was a privilege, you felt yourself grow wet at the sight of her. Her toned physique made your mouth water. From the way her body curved elegantly without her trying. The perkiness of her breast to the dark shade of her areola. 

In such a provocative position, your cheeks heat instantly as she’s positioned herself in between your legs. The warmth feeling of her clit on yours sent a chill down your spine. It did not cause fear to tremble your bones, but more so a chill that was pleasurable—completely enjoyable. You squirmed under her touch, yearning for some form of friction on your throbbing clit. Desperately bucking your hips impatiently. 

“Settle down, kitten. I’ll give you what you want if you say please.” Her eyes stared down at you, wet clit kissing yours as she waited for you to beg. 

“Please.” Your words came out like a plea for mercy. 

And as promised, she gave you what you wanted. Hips rocking just to feel the pleasurable feeling of your clit on hers. 

You wanted to question God, how could you be so lucky? How can you be so lucky to be able to utter Yoruichi’s name like a sweet bird tune while her clit rubbed against your own? How can you be so lucky to see the way her plush lips spread apart to let out a moan of satisfaction? 

You didn’t mind how tight she was holding your thighs apart just so her clit can rub against yours even faster. The only thing you cared about at the moment was the fact that you had Yoruichi in between your thighs. The thoughts about how this was breaking some form of unwritten rule were pushed further to the back of your head as each rock of her hips and each pornographic sound of heated skin rubbed against each other. How can you even think about rules when she was talking to you like this? 

“That feels good, kitten?” When she navigates her hips in a circular motion. 

“Be a good girl and cum for me one time,” She’ll coo. 

How can you think about rules when you were about to cum merely by her rubbing her clit on yours? 

When you made eye contact with her, you felt your stomach engulfed in a feeling you hadn’t felt before. The force of your orgasm was piling up in the pit of your stomach, but that didn’t stop Yoruichi. Her clit still happily rubbing against yours without the fact that you were holding back an orgasm. 

“Fuck.” The woman utters under her breath, this time her nails dug into your soft brown skin leaving a crescent moon mark. Her eyes shifted close before her rocking upon your clit grew a bit sloppy. A spasm of humps upon your clit like a cat in heat before she finally came undone. 

Here that thought of privilege you felt returned. The mere sight of Yoruichi when she was coming down from an orgasm felt like a dream. It felt so unreal, but when your hands went to grasp her sweat-coated body, you knew that this happened. With one harsh rock of her hips and intense eye contact with you, you finally felt your legs tremble in ecstasy. Completing cuming together in tune like lovers who've known each other’s bodies for centuries before she’s plopping down next to you.

You had to transfer divisions, immediately. 

Before this gets even more out of control. Or worse, you have one of your blacked-out episodes.

⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @honeybleed @ayyy-pee @tojiscumdumpster @salaciousdoll @shamelesshoefairy @lunerenzo @antizenin @aizens-third-leg @strawhatsav @batmanslittlelover @hiiighforthiss @neesieiumz

[tb3ih]

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS (pt. 1), ayato kamisato/reader

SYNOPSIS... whispers of an unhappy marriage seem to have fallen on deaf ears, OR it is deep within the Kamisato Estate where you bury your broken heart, far away from the encompassing reach of a loveless union with AYATO.

⋆ warnings, kamisato ayato x fem-presenting!reader, alcohol consumption, a CHILD, marriage conflict, & the crippling weight of complexities that follow an unhappy marriage :\

⋆ notes, this is for my mama, who never got the courage nor the chance to make the choice i wish for anyone in this situation to make. (SORRY FOR LEAVING THIS AS A CLIFFHANGER PLS FORGIVE ME I BEG) p.s. i'll make a part two bc i can't end it like this, y/n deserves a happy ending.

⋆ tags! @rqkuya @sohyuki @usertsubaki @rinoomi @scaramew @rainsoughtflowers @rysird @manji-ro @xiaophobic @redninjakitty14rp @meowlumi @mimissubway

kamisato ayato does not come home.

you let this cascade down your throat and tell yourself it's just the sake when you feel it burn, vision blurring a bit as your eyes trace the gold edges of the glass you rotate between your fingertips.

it's nearly two am, but the city of inazuma has yet to rest its technicolor eyes, lost hopes and vivid dreams painting themselves in the brightest of hues between buildings and bustling streets.

it's laughable almost, the way you spend the latest hours of the night after tucking in your daughter sipping overpriced rice wine, and drowning in second-hand smoke, waiting for a man of all things.

your candle's nearly burned out of wick, and you sigh at the idea of having to purchase more, but you supposed you'd just send a butler to the candle shop. after all, how could you make an effective housewife if you didn't remain in the house?

but it is no surprise to you, the renowned head of hayashi clan and sole heir to one of the greatest legacies in the nation, that you are waiting out on your balcony overlooking the estate for your husband to miraculously walk through the front gates for once in the last few months.

and when he does, you're choking on your wine, eyes blinking furiously as you watch his tall but somewhat obscured figure waltzing through the front gates like its any other night he's supposed to be coming home; as if he hadn't been neglecting his own home for the past months.

"milday? the lord of the house has returned," a soft voice informs and you don't need to turn to see that it's your closest chambermaid, akane, the most loyal (and well informed) lady-in-waiting you'd ever had the honor of being acquainted with. "it would seem he's in a rather... sober state..."

you snort in amusement, lips pressing once more to the rim of the glass in your hand for a final sip, and you're thankful for the dull numbing that follows, a hot, searing emotion beginning to bubble in your chest. it would seem rice wine and sake have begun to lose its favored taste and you made a mental note to make sure akane arranged for it all to be removed from the house entirely. you never really liked it that much anyway.

you're making your way through the long hallway leading to the front courtyard, where akane tells you he is lounging. when you walk out, ayato is seated at the chabudai, his back facing you as he gazes out into the night sky. on the table sits a warm teapot and akane comes to place a second cup down before you can take a seat, bowing politely before stepping away to remain at the outer edges of the raised patio.

ayato has not turned once to address your presence, nor do you beckon him to with a greeting. you settle gracefully on the zaisu, tucking your feet beneath you before taking the pot to pour yourself a drink. it is quiet but for the summer insects and the sloshing of green tea as you fill your cup.

"it's a little late for tea, isn't it, sweetheart?" his voice is smooth and almost taunting in the tension-filled atmosphere. turning to face you, the azure of his eyes probably would have had you drowning to your death if you hadn't been so accustomed to every one of his antics over the years.

"oh please," you chuckle, examining the cup in your hands, "you flatter me, darling. but yes, i concur it's too far into the evening to be enjoying a casual drink. on the contrary, one might note that there is no time a house lord should and shouldn't be allowed to enjoy his evening tea."

not that there ever was a lord of the house to enjoy tea, you thought behind a sip of hot tea.

"then to what do i owe the pleasure to?" he's watching you carefully, from the way you sip your tea haphazardly to your direct eye contact.

you hum, as if to mull it over. "well, perhaps i was hoping you'd had come to your senses, but i suppose you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

you hear him scoff, an incredulous look marring the complexion of his face. irritation laces his low voice, "dear archons, y/n, i don't have time for this."

and it's in that moment you find the anger bubbling up your throat in a cruel laugh, whirling sharply to bring your hands against the lacquered wood of the table. "well then, commissioner, i daresay i must ask what in the hell do you have time for? because it obviously isn't your home," you spit, venom and heat keeping your throat in a chokehold.

akane shifts uncomfortably from where she stands across the room from you and you allow some space between you and your husband to reassure her.

ayato's laugh is unamused and withering, "you know, my sweet bride, you truly are insufferable." his eyes have narrowed. "is it attention? are you perhaps, unsatisfied with your life of luxury? not enough treasures to satiate your heart?"

this infuriates you. "treasures?! i attempt to discuss the real issues here and you dare frame me—"

"what else could it be?!" ayato brings the cup down with a curt slam that causes you to flinch. "i work day and night tirelessly to settle the most complicated of national affairs and the moment i return home you bring up the most trivial of matters? have you any shame?"

"we are married," you seethe.

"only by law," he bites back, which once more makes you flinch. this causes you to pause, the man before you breathing heavily out of anger. "only. by. law."

and something on your face contorts in the way your heart seems to twist at his statement. ayato does not spare the moment to continue. "did you truly think there was more to this union than political benefit? that there was love or even consideration of feelings? archons, y/n, you are so naive. there is no love!"

in that moment you feel your anguish clawing at your throat, harassing your voicebox into letting it be heard—and you almost do, if it hadn't been for the tiny voice that calls out from where akane stands. "okasaan...?"

a tiny figure hides behind your lady-in-waiting, her blue hair and eyes reflecting that of the man across from you. your eyes widen at the sight, panic in your expression when you meet akane's apologetic one.

sora.

you close your eyes for a second, collecting the salvable pieces of yourself from this conversation. you stand, "well, kamisato-sama, i suppose this is where i bid you a fair evening." you walk over to akane, opening your arms to receive a tired little sora, sleep still adorning her soft expression. "i can assure you personally that you will never again have to deal with such trivial matters, after all, i'm sure even a moment of your time would cost a fortune."

"kasaan? otosan said there was no love?" sora's voice is quiet against your hair as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. you pause in your step, turning to look at the man in question.

you cannot read the emotion in his deep, azure irises nor do you attempt. that would suggest you considered his feelings, which you simply cannot! the edges of your lips pull to form a sad smile, the corners of your eyes burning with the last bit of care you might ever shed for him. "you're too young to worry about that, my sweet little flower," you soothe, not breaking eye contact with him. "if he was your father, he'd have the heart to know that a father would never say such a thing."

sora mumbles an 'okay' against your neck and you smooth a hand down your hair, coaxing her to sleep. you turn, watching his expression as you walk away. "i've always loved you enough for the both of us anyway."

something behind his eyes shifts at your tone, but you're sure it's not remorse. because kamisato ayato does not know love, nor feel remorse for matters concerning his home.

part 2 ! | part 3 ! | part 4 ! | part 5 ! (still in progress)

© tb3ih mmxxii all rights reserved.

[whalesforhands]

it exists only here

geto suguru holds onto your ghost in the trivial silence of the night.

HBD GETO SUGURU

“Geto-sama, you have an audience with an Amano Kiriko and her father in approximately 30 minutes.”

The cult leader doesn’t say a word, the stalk of pink carnation getting nicked a little too close to its petals for his comfort, his pruning shears threatening the beauty of the flora in his hand.

He thought he had it this time.

Now it’s too short. The osmanthus flowers he had spent so much time intricately placing together will go to waste… Dumb rocks and leaves that took way too long to work in harmony with each other. He sighs, frustration coursing through his tensed arms whilst staring down at the already ruined flower despite the beauty it still retained. It just didn’t fit in well with the image he had in mind. So beautiful, yet so useless now.

Should he just redo it? Amethyst orbs follow the stalk up to where it’s now currently being held up to the hanging lamp light, whiffs of its sweet scent reaching his nose as he glares. He ponders and ponders, his eyes closing to savour the fragrance.

So sweet.

“Tell Amaya-san we’re postponing. I’m busy.” Can’t you see how preoccupied he is with this? It obviously takes precedence over some worthless monkey.

A little more suffering won’t do them any harm.

The silence drags, yet Manami Suda does not break the tense stillness any further, does not even correct her superior on his mispronunciation. What use is there for him to remember a mere monkey’s name?

“Understood, Geto-sama. I will move your meeting back by 40 minutes.” She bows low, her gaze kept towards the ground before she turns on her heel and makes her way out, shiny hair bouncing with every step as she makes it a point to close the door behind her as gently, as silently possible.

It seems that her handsome boss is having one of those days again.

A quiet creak of his door and heel clicks that disappear with distance until they were no more.

It’s now that he realizes he’s alone again, silently staring down at the blush pink of the petals in his hand. He twirls the stalk over and over between his fingers as the silence stretches and stretches. It overwhelms him, his thoughts just a little too loud in the blaring quietude.

“Suguru, you don’t look well.” A warm hand against his forehead, your worried gaze and a soft voice. Touch shifting away and making him nearly chase after your comfort.

(Just for a little longer.)

“Have you been eating properly?” You’re sad, lips downturned into a frown that makes him regret ever looking so gaunt— So weak. He wants to placate you, wants to assure you.

“I’m fine—“

“Nope!” An interruption of an all too boisterous voice, lanky arms immediately hooking around both of you as you’re both pulled towards an all too excited Satoru. “So what say we go out and treat him some good ol’ soba?”

His head is starting to hurt again. A grit of his teeth and shears clattering onto the wooden table, frustrated sigh and slumping of his shoulders to ease this tension within his body. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel so… Bad.

It’s only then that his hands reach for the book that was upon the chabudai he sat at, trembling fingers finally making contact with the old paper, the slightly frayed pages easing the stress in his mind, the roar in his ears.

His fingers would trace well-worn, yellowed pages of an all too old shoujo manga, familiar pages that had a noticeable dent in them from how beloved they were by the previous owner. It takes him back, makes his hands reach into traces of the past. Away from this headache inducing present, away from his pain.

“There you are. I bought those famous Kiyoken shumai—“ He freezes in his tracks, his eyes widening and eyebrows raising in shock and worry when he chanced upon your teary gaze, your expression akin to a deer caught in headlights as you look at him with shiny, gemlike eyes and tears that had already spilled, rolling down your embarrassed cheeks.

He takes only a moment to recover, only silently walking forward to plop the plastic bag onto the dining table, giving you a quick once-over before patting your head, as you squeak in stunned surprise, his hand combing down your hair gently before he turns on his heel, steps heavy, quick and a threatening smile upon his face. He starts cracking his knuckles for good measure, his aura flaring into one of intimidation as he gets ready to beat a certain someone up.

“I’ll kill him.”

“S-Suguru— Wait! It’s not Satoru’s fault!” You’re already up on your feet, running to intercept him and grabbing onto his arm, using all your strength to hold him back as you feel your socked feet start to drag across the floor, his strength uninhibited by your attempt.

An innocent, accusatory lilt of his voice as he stops, turning to face you. “Oh? I don’t feel very merciful today—“

“I was crying because of a manga!” Blurted out with a shameful, humiliated voice, your arms hugging his one to your chest even tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your face burns and burns with growing mortification that makes you want to curl up and die and possibility cry even more.

And that calms him down in an instant.

That memory still makes him chuckle, a hand under his chin as his eyes blink at the imagery formed in his head. Mindless flipping of the pages causes him to land on a scene that’s been bookmarked far too many times. He knows this line by heart.

“Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky—“ You sniffle, cutting yourself off and letting Suguru dab the tears treading down your cheeks as you don’t even try to resist, or even pull away from his thoroughly amused self.

“I-It’s just so romantic, okay…?!”

“Hmm?” His smile only seems to grow wider as he leans forth, handkerchief is abandoned in favour of using his thumb, gently tapping at the tears forming again in the corner of your eyes to tease you. “I wouldn’t really know if you don’t finish, will I?”

“B-but I’ll just cry—“ You quickly press his abandoned handkerchief to your nose, a sorry attempt at trying to drag your expressions away to quell the burning shame of having to face him. “Way more, Suguru…!”

“Cry all you want then.” His hand goes to hold your cheek, settling your face in his hand and chuckling as he pats your head, smiling softly, gently, warmly at the way you’re starting to bawl even harder somehow. “I’ll be here to wipe your tears away for you.”

A lock of his hair flitters in front of him, breaking him out of his nostalgic trance as a breeze blows in, as if caressing the strands with tender curiosity. A hand reaches up to thoughtlessly twirl it, amaranth eyes finally opening to bring himself back to reality.

Should he cut his hair soon?

“Suguru, you cut it?!” Satoru holds the boy’s face in his hands, shaking him back and forth and whining his disappointment. “Whyyyyyy?! How could you do that to our beautiful hair?!”

“Our…? Satoru, last I checked it was attached to my scal—“

“No…”

You’re devastated as you sat behind him, fingers slotted inbetween smooth strands that have now been slashed into shortened locks, trampling on your dreamy imagery of his gorgeous hair, your arms hugging around his waist from behind as your face buries into his shoulder to weep for the loss of his beauty.

“Our pretty hair…”

“…aren’t you both being a little overdramatic?”

He feels his heart shake, an ache that yearned to be eased when he opens his eyes to realize that he’s all alone. No matter how far those memories seemed to be, whenever he closed his eyes… It always seemed to be filled with an image of those precious days.

Steadying himself with a sigh and getting up onto his socked feet, he stretches his arms and lets his joints pop.

He should stop thinking about these things.

——

It’s fun.

Geto Suguru is having fun. A stutter in his chest, a fleeting feel in his heart as he exchanged blows. Different from those other students, so similar to that certain someone. Dodging, parrying, summoning, running, bleeding.

So fast. So purposeful in every hit, so unnatural, so talented.

Okkotsu Yuuta was the perfect sorcerer. A curse technique with so much potential, an aura of budding, endless possibilities. Why, oh, why does he still stand with the lesser beings, the lesser race?

His wooden clogs skid across concrete as he stands his ground, a smirk of condemnation and displeasure evident as he spits out a mouthful of blood and metallic ire.

He’ll show him. Show this boy the disparity of their power, the difference in their leagues of playing field as he wipes the remnants of crimson off his mouth, the stinging bruise upon his cheek from where he was bunched pulsating with an urge to destroy. To conquer.

“Cursed Spirit Manipulation: Supreme Art,” A taunting point of his finger upwards, crazed grin upon his face. Bear witness to his overwhelming strength, to his irrepressible supremacy. He doesn’t need anything else when he’s drunk off of power. “Uzumaki.”

Swirling black and daunting shadows form at his fingertip, echos of screams and damned cries of the beasts he’s consumed billowing within.

“Okkotsu,” His face is in a state of a proud, manic insanity, shivers of lustful victory trembling his bones. “I’m glad I could kill you before you managed to fully wield Orimoto Rika.”

This is it. Geto Suguru’s victory, the beginning of the end for this Jujutsu Society. Once this boy dies, he will absorb the Queen of Curses, he will be strong enough to finally change this wretched world for the better.

Would he be satisfied then? Would he finally feel that he’s avenged—

Okkotsu Yuuta doesn’t say a word, a shining determination in his gaze as his back is turned to his enemy, a tentative hand upon the curse that followed him as he called her name. The name of the girl he had known, had loved all this time.

“Rika.” A small whisper into the cursed being’s supposed ear. “I’ll give you everything,” A breath is taken. “My body, my heart, my soul…”

Geto Suguru wants to feel disgusted at the sight.

“I love you, Rika.”

The light hits the silver of the young boy’s ring, metal glinting and catching the attention of the cult leader who was kind enough to let that poor kid say his final words.

“Thank you for always protecting me.” It’s odd, repulsive, Suguru thinks as his ears catch wind of those sugary sweet lines. How warm those words feel, how they’re said with such a bittersweet mirth, how it’s almost like it resembles your—

“Suguru.” Your voice is quiet, your presence a fading comfort as he barely feels it within this empty room.

He feels a phantom warmth, a non-existent touch lightly caressing his cold, gaunt face. A contact that he doesn’t want to let up as his hands reach up only to feel nothingness and an unbearable lurch of his throat.

An aftertaste weighs heavy on his tongue, like a rag that had been used to wipe up vomit. Ringing in his ears as his nose feels clogged, nigh unbreathable. Does it even matter if he doesn’t reply? Will it matter if he tries to will away that distorted voice of yours?

Geto Suguru sees red, sees looming metal doors, hears the thundering jeers of a cult, hears a scream of your name, feels the building terror and anguish of his heart in full.

Feels like he doesn’t know why you’re here now.

Think, Suguru. Why are you of all people appearing right in this crucial moment? What do you want? What are you trying to do? What are you trying to say?

If you had one thing to say to him right now, what would it be?

“Thank you for falling in love with me.”

A sharp intake of air to snap himself out of it, the odd chorus of Yuuta’s voice and yours mixing and mashing up in his head, his pupils dilating and finally focusing back into the battle at hand. It isn’t like him to lose his focus like this. Isn’t like him to get so distracted by a haunting thought.

“Aren’t you quite the player, Okkotsu Yuuta?” His words end on an annoyed growl, a building temper to supplement the forgotten rage in his heart.

But this is what he wants, isn’t it?

“That’s rude.” Okkotsu Yuuta is deadpan, his face set in a tone of utmost sincerity and seriousness.

“This is true love.”

And Geto Suguru wonders if that’s what went wrong as he gets swallowed by an explosion of pink and white.

——

Geto Suguru thought he would at least go out with more grace. A little more flair, in a burst of Hollow Purple or a deep Red.

But not like this.

Not with his back against an alleyway wall, slid down to the ground in pathetic defeat, not whilst he’s missing an arm, bleeding out and searingly painful.

Not while Gojo Satoru stares him down like that in his final moments.

“You’re late,” He just can’t help the smile on his face that forms as his voice traces those beloved words after far too long. “Satoru.”

An exchange of words, their conversation that took place. From the safety of Suguru’s newfound family, to the battle with Satoru’s students… Suguru realizes that what was once his cold, hardened heart was starting to stir with nostalgia, a flutter in his chest that makes him want to get lost in this conversation for just a bit longer; even if the expression on Satoru’s face was blank, empty.

Even if he never smiled at him anymore.

So he takes his time, drawing out each word and sentence and mindless thought that had been churned into a flitter in his stomach that makes him think that it isn’t so bad to be on the losing end.

That it isn’t so bad that this is his end.

And when all was said and done, it goes silent. Comfortingly so in this bitter atmosphere that makes him forget about the stale iron in his mouth and his defeated heart that had nothing left to hide.

It’s hard to say that Geto Suguru was satisfied just yet.

“Do you… Still think I’m a good person?” It’s sudden, a taboo scab nobody, not even Geto himself had wanted to pick at. A wound that never quite gelled over. But— It’s fine because it’s here. It’s fine because it’s right now. Because these trivial, meaningless conversations are what make him feel whole, make him find meaning amongst all his doubt.

“Yeah.” A pause as the honoured one takes in a breath, the squeezing of his palms into tight fists as his glowing eyes begin to soften to shimmery radiance. “I bet she would still think so too.”

That’s not true. Geto Suguru feels, knows it just cannot be, no matter how much his broken heart yearns to believe it. It’s for that reason that he finally lets out a laugh, eyes turning into crescents to match his satisfied smile.

“I killed tons of innocent people, you know?”

There’s no way you would ever look at him the same way.

“You can go and ask her personally, then.” Gojo Satoru sounds so steady, so confident and brazen with his threat; that it sounds like a consolation to Geto Suguru, that it leaves him in utter disbelief at the man’s faith in him, his belief that a damned person like him would ever get to reunite with the likes of you.

Though, it brings him peace in this moment.

“Maybe I will.” It’s his final reassurance, stemming from a hope that he gets to be together with you once more, a last solace for his painful, aching soul in the silence that follows after.

“It’s disappointing, Satoru.”

His eyes blink as he leans his head back against the grimy wall, letting out a breath to soothe the staggering gnawing at his conscience. “That I couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world anymore.”

Not when it turned out like this.

A beat passes, and yet another as Suguru finally feels his body beginning to crumble, vision starting to blur as he starts to see brightness in his dimming eyes. It’s okay. It’s okay now because—

It’s over.

He sees his beloved squat down, coming down onto this pitiful level to meet eyes with him. What is he—

Sincere blue to fading purple, parting lips that start mouthing words that he didn’t think he deserved to hear. He knows that goodbyes are bitter, that he’ll never be ready enough to hear them.

That he’ll never be able to accept that you’re gone.

Yet, even as it reaches into his ears, he didn’t expect the weight, the pressure that makes the tiniest semblance of regret swirl in his heart, slowly realized into a wish that he could rewind time to hear Satoru’s voice that teeters upon a breaking sorrow once more. Just one more time.

“We’ll meet again, right?”

Geto Suguru can only laugh, letting amusement enshroud his expression as his neck cranes towards the light in which his one and only Gojo Satoru shrouded. It’s so stupid, so in character for someone like him.

“At least curse me a little at the end.”

This is how he wants to go. There’s nothing else he wants to long for now… Not the Queen of Curses, not the utter desire to destroy non-sorcerers, not the bloodthirsty revenge and grudge he held against the Jujutsu system— He just wants to feel at peace from the hands of his other half.

This is it.

“Take care of her until I get there.” Wherever you both end up, his final message and blessing from just Satoru to just Suguru. A responsibility given to him that Gojo hopes comes true. All because he hopes it’s peaceful where you both were, that it relieves you both of the hope that made you hurt more.

Suguru’s parting smile is bittersweet, a blush upon his face as enchanting purple finally hide away, finally put to rest with the last of his cursed energy dissipating. A ‘goodbye’ is something he’s no good at, a ‘see you later’ far too unfulfilling. He wishes he could find kinder words as he lets his heart speak his truth, breathed out in a whisper so tender.

“Don’t be late again, Satoru.”

previous next

Notes:

Pink carnations: I’ll never forget you.

Osmanthus flowers: True love.

‘Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky, if you’re with me then everything’s alright.’ - Everything’s Alright from To the Moon (nvy’s favourite game)

[laurageto]

Benimaru Shinmon

The walk from the club back to Beni's room was a silent one. All squad leaders had cleared the half destroyed club of civilians before the establishment shut down. You weren't quite sure why you didn't just head back to your own place. You'd said yes in the heat of the moment to discussing what had happened tonight back at company sevens but now you was regretting it.

The crisp air was an instant wake up call from the warm thick atmosphere of the night spot. Each hair follicle on your body standing to attention as the chilly breeze washes over your skin.

Beni and Konro were walking merely a few steps ahead in a deep discussion about what they'd just witnessed.

"There's no doubt that someone in that club set off that infernal.." Beni scratches his dark hair, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"I agree, this was planned. Someone knew we'd all be there tonight"

You continued to ponder at a slower pace behind them, intently listening to their conversation.

"Are we almost there? I'm actually freezing my tits off here"

Beni slipped off his navy kimono and threw it lazily over his shoulder not even attempting to look at where it landed.

"Here, wear this and stop moaning"

You barely catch it with your stiffening ice cold fingers. You wrap the soft fabric round your upper body, intense amount of heat now saturating your flesh flesh.

The scent of the material made your stomach flutter. The sweet fragrance of mixed spices clouded your thoughts reminding you of a freshly baked cinnamon pretzel gorgeously brown and plump, drizzled with pearly white icing sugar. You hum with delight, burying your face into the fabric.

Beni turns his gaze to Konro mid conversation and catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of your eye as you lovingly cherishes the kimono. His cheeks briefly flush crimson at the sight and a small smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

Eventually the group make it back to base, both you and Beni say their good night to Konro before making your way back to the Captain's quarters.

"So, are you heading up this meeting tomorrow? And what are your thoughts on this incident?" You gracefully saunter into the room, slinging the navy kimono onto Beni's futon.

As you begin to make her way over to the chabudai a familiar warm hand grasps your wrist tightly. He pulls you gently back to face him, your chests tightly press together. Both of your breathing instantly kick up a notch.

"You know full well I've got no intent on discussing tonight's attack now. Who the fuck was that guy in the club?"

His soft breath tickles your chin as he speaks and the crimson in his orbs seems to intensify momentarily as he awaits your response.

You shove your palm into him aggressively, shunting him backwards.

"As if you have any fucking right to ask that question!"

You begin to storm towards the door but the familiar feeling of that hand grabbing your arm stops you.

"You are not going anywhere, not tonight. Not after that atta.."

"I can handle myself Shinmon" you retort instantly cutting him off.

"I'm not that young girl you felt you needed to protect back then, I'm leader of Company Six"

He nodded in agreement, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that you were strong, the strongest person he knew in fact. He would never admit to you the reason you couldn't leave.

Even the mere thought of something happening to you made his insides scream in agony.

He increases the distance between you both once more. Wrapping his forearm around your curves he pulls you in, his free hand clasping your chin and bringing your eyes to his level.

"You are not leaving. End of discussion"

Suddenly he lunges forward and messily plants his lips against yours. Your eyes widen in shock and confusion. Wait, weren't you just fighting?

You stands frozen for a few seconds, part of you wanting to shove him off and tell him to stick it. A bigger part of you wanting to melt into the kiss and show him exactly what he's missing.

It didn't take long for the devil on your shoulder to convince you of the latter.

Your tongue eagerly pushes into his mouth wanting explore and he happily obliges. Both pairs of hands shakily scrabble at eachothers garments, tearing pieces of material off and throwing it to the side.

"You fucking make me so angry.." you pant "I actually hate you" you managed to babble out between irratic breathes. Beni snaps the wire fabric of your bra with minimal effort and smirks at you "the feelings mutual".

Grabbing a fist full of your soft breast he wraps his lips around the nipple and effortlessly glides his tongue around it. You begin to fumble around with his pants, yanking at the button until it finally pops off and the material crumples to the floor.

You both stumble backward towards the neatly made futon, Beni with his mouth still full of flesh. He pops off and takes a long gaze at you.

"You know your mine right? Doesn't matter who wants you. They aren't having you" he states matter of factly.

You kneel onto the springy ivory mattress, now eye level with his member. "Is that so?" You hum softly whilst wiping a small drop of drool that had gathered on your lips.

"Mmhmm" he moans, eagerly anticipating your next move.

You edge your soft lips closer to the tip of his cock, it stiffens more as you finally surround the entire head with your mouth.

You inch up and down his long member, your tongue taking lavish swoops at the base of his shaft. You fix your gaze up at him as you move. "Oh my fucking god, I forget how good your mouth feels"

He runs his fingers through your locks, gently grasping and the strands and melts into the rhythm of your movements. You pull off momentarily to catch her breath but continue to stroke his cock. After a moment's pause you get back to business, slowly noticing his muscular abdomen tighten. You knew he was close to coming.

"I'm going to cum!" He moans loudly but pulls out quickly. You continue to gaze at him, opening your mouth expecting his load any moment now.

He leans down, his nose brushing against yours once more "turn over, I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never want anyone else ever again"

You starts to turn over but clearly it wasn't quick enough for Beni, he hoists you over until your rear was directly facing him. He smacks your right cheek with his palm leaving a fresh red hot indent before following up with some hungry nibbles. Leaning back once more he finds your entrance and places the edge his cock against it. "I know your not on birth control, but if you don't care.. I don't" he stated. He waited for your response which didn't take long.

"I want you inside of me"

That was all he needed.

He slammed his hard dick as far as it would go and you yelp out in pleasure. He places both hands on your hip dips and moves into a quick pace off the bat. He'd already got himself primed thanks to your amazing blowing skills.

After a few minutes of pounding he pulls out and kneels so he's facing your kitty. Parting the two lips he tenderly peppers kisses along your clit before lapping up your juices. He continues to messily lick your pussy, loving hearing the squeaks and moans that were escaping you. Neither of you were making any effort to be quiet. It was nothing that the rest of the company hadn't heard a million times before.

Now he felt satisfied you were as close as he was he flipped you onto her front. He wants to see your face when you both cum. "Are you ready for me baby?" He purrs waiting for consent.

"Fucking cum for me" you blurt.

For the next 5 minutes both of your bodies intertwined in a sticky hot mess. The sound of moans and balls slapping against skin is all that could be heard.

"Fuck I'm close, are you close?" He quizzes through laboured breaths. "I- I'm going to c-cum" you squeeze your thighs around his waist, your arms shooting up and clawing at his toned chest. His rhythm starts to falter as he feels his hot liquid rising to the surface.

"Uhhhhh shit! Y/n!" He groans as the white sticky messy shoots out of his shaft and into the depths of your pussy.

He instantly collapses forward into your arms, both panting perfusely.

You soak up the moment, running your fingers through his soft raven strands. You smile to yourself before hearing soft rumbles coming from his throat. Is he snoring?

You giggle and move him over onto the far side of the futon before snuggling close into his warm chest.

Let's make the most of this before we go back to being friends in the morning.

[divinemello]

Kyojuro Rengoku / Oneshot

Suspicions 

You were home stuck in your thoughts, worried about your boyfriend Kyojuro. He has been off lately; something just isn't quite right. Sure, he's all smiles and laughter, but you know something has been bothering him. He has been out training later and later every night.

Kyojuro keeps telling you not to worry and that he's okay.” Everything will be okay,” he always says before kissing your forehead.

Earlier you were out training with him but he told you to go home when the sun started to go down. Rengoku has insisted on training longer and longer every day. You can't help but feel a bit suspicious of why the sudden change. Could he actually be cheating on you? He wouldn't do anything like that, would he? You snap yourself out of your thoughts. If only there were something you could do to ease both your minds.

You decided to cook his favorite, Sweet potatoes and salt-grilled bream, to help him open up to you during your late dinner. You look out the window and see how high the moon is in the sky.

Starting to get worried, you let out a sigh. He promised he would come back tonight, the latest being 3 a.m. It's currently 1 a.m., and the food is almost done.

You decided to stay up till he came home. You can't blame him for being out this late; demons only show at night after all. He wouldn't even be a Hashira if all he did was sleep like a baby all night long.

Just when you feel your eyes getting heavy, you hear the front door opening. It's Kyojuro, “Welcome home!” Y/N greeted. Kyojuro smiles, “Is that food I smell!” His voice was booming. “Yup,” you proudly say as Kyojuro looks at his favorite food you prepared for him.

Your boyfriend looks at you, “You didn't have to do all this for me, you know. You should be resting.” As Kyojuro talks to you, you can see a couple of light scratches on his face, “how was training?'' you asked. “ It was great,” he says, walking closer to you. He leans in and gives you a tight hug. You hug him back; his warmth is unbelievable. It's so surprising every time you hug the Flame Hashira. How could someone's body be so warm without having a fever?

You and Kyojuro are sitting down at the chabudai, eating your food. He tells you all about his time training. His eyes are bright with passion, yet his eyes look exhausted. “I'm glad to hear training went well,” you say. You continue your dinner and have a normal conversation like any other night.

Once dinner is over, you both head to the bedroom to get ready. “I love you, Y/N,” Kyojuro says, kissing you on the cheek as you lay in bed. He walks to the bathroom to clean up. He seems to be in a good mood, as usual.

You catch yourself in your thoughts again. Why has Kyojuro been so distant? You hear the door open, it's Kyojuro. Fresh out of the shower, his hair is wet, and water drips down his face and body. The only thing covering him is a white towel hanging low on his hips.

A big smile comes on his face, and he sits on the edge of the bed. His back towards you now, and you freeze up. Are those scratches? You sit up quickly, staring at Kyojuro. He turns around to look at you, “Are you alright?” he questions, frowning with worry. “Are thoughts scratches on your back?”. Kyojuro reaches both his hands back, touching the scratches. “Oh yeah, I got them from training,” He laughs nervously. You stand up now from off the bed, eyes not leaving Kyojuros.

You couldn't hold in your thoughts anymore. The stress and anxiety washing over you makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “Kyojuro, are you cheating on me!” The words ramble out your mouth. He looks at you, eyes wide, “No, of course not, Y/N, I would never.” He's now standing up from the bed, looking at you.

Emotions take over your body, and you start to feel weak, “Why have you been coming home later and later? Why are there scratches on your back? You keep telling me everything is ok, but I don't think it is. I know you Kyo; what are you lying to me about?”

There was a moment of silence between the both of you. Kyojuro looks down at his feet, “I've been out late training. You can ask Tegen. That's who I was with the whole time. It's why I have a few scratches.” “But why so late, Kyojuro? You've been so distant.” You say with a serious tone. “The truth is something has been kind of bothering me.” Your heart rate speeds up, and you stay silent.

It's not often you see Kyojuro upset, especially like this. Even in tough times, he's always positive and smiling.

“I'm scared, scared that I'm going to lose you. I keep getting nightmares where I'm not strong enough and—you die.”. Kyojuro looks back at you, “Please, Y/N. I can't lose you; I need to keep training. Sleep doesn't matter right now. I refuse to let anything happen to you.” The tension finally releases from your body. “Why didn't you tell me, Kyojuro?” you say quietly. “I didn't want to scare you. I now realize my absence wasn't helping you. I'm sorry I worried you.” He says, disappointed.

You walk over to the other side of the bed to meet Kyojuro, “You know rest is just as important as training. I'm here for you.” Now that you are closer, you notice Kyojuro has a couple of bruises on his chest and a few scratches as well. You can tell his body has taken a beating.

You put your hands on either side of Kyojuro's shoulders, making him sit down on the bed again. You lean in to kiss him on the lips. “It's time to rest, okay?” You start to rub his tense muscles, earning a relaxed sigh from Kyojuro. I'm sorry, Y/N,” he says. You smile, relieved that he's not cheating on you. “Shh, it's okay, Kyojuro. Just let me take care of you.”

Hello everyone I hope you enjoyed! 🖤 Any thoughts on if I should do a part 2? I would love feedback if anyone has some. Request are open.

[rinrinx2]

hi!! i saw that ur requests were open so i was wondering if you could do ran x reader where reader cheats on him 🙏🙏🙏 i hate that in every fic im reading ran is the dishonest one like please give miss yn a break 😫

I made this kind of like a historical vibes because I felt like it. Hope you like it :)

The lady of cheating

Ran x reader

Warnings: Historical AU, s£x, mentions of cheating, Sanzu, language

Feeling his cold hands move across your body as your purred in pleasure. Not allowing you to catch your breath as he rutted into you over and over again.

Feeling his fingers pinch as your already hardened nipples as you were bent on all fours.

The feeling of the silk fabric being pushed up further around your waist as he pushed deeper into you. Taking in the desperate moans of the man atop of you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful” he whispered breathily into your ear.

Eyes still shut as you let his comment waver over you, as he couldn’t even see your face in this position.

Your walls beginning to tighten with each thrust, and from the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your drenched hole you could tell he was close too.

And all to sudden you felt it, like a tsunami of wet pushed against his cock as you milked him for his seed, allowing him to shoot deep into you.

As your cunt swallowed up his seed letting it seep into the deepest parts of your womb.

You fell flat on the futon, as you heard the man who was once atop of you now lay on the side of the futon.

Hearing as he desperately gasped for air trying to catch his breath.

Turning your head to peak at the man as your armed covered your face from him.

Taking in the pinkish hue of his hair and the diamond shape scar of his cheeks.

And you might’ve not been caught starring had he not turned his head to look at you. With a smile plastered on his face in his post pleasure bliss, as he starred into the two orbs of your eyes which sparkled in the light before he began to sit up.

Slowly getting on his feet as he began to tie his jinbei. The dark navy colour of it clashing with the cherry blossom colour of his hair.

“Same time next week” the man said as he kissed the top of your head as he exited the small room sliding the shoji door close.

You finally felt enough strength enter your body to sit up straight. Looking around as you absorbed in your environment, the discarded layers of silk of your uchikake on the tatami flooring.

Taking a deep breath before you found yourself standing on your legs, feeling the pain in-between your legs from your previous activities.

It was this pain that reminded you to look for any bruises that might have been left on your body. You examined yourself starting from the inner of your thighs to the mounds of your breast and finally grabbing a hand mirror which placed on the Chabudai as a display, luckily finding no marks.

You’d hate for him to find any evidence of your activities with another. You could only imagine the horror which would paint his face if he ever found markings on your body which was not by his accord.

Finally the pain subsided enough for you to leave the room you used to please the man with the cherry blossom hair.

“Hi (Y/N)-chan” a girl greeted as she walked passed you.

“Hi Miko” you greeted back as you made your way to your room to change.

Swiftly changing into a simple lilac yukata to combat the summer heat of the late midday.

Your simple yukata allowing you to blend in with the normal people around you as you made you way to the entrance of yukaku.

“(Y/N)-chan, you’re off so swiftly?” You heard the older woman who you and many other girls of the yukaku referred to as mother.

“She’s in a hurry to see that man” Hachiko giggled to mother and a few other girls in her company.

“You mean the tall handsome one” Shoko added with a teasing smile.

“Yes that one, he has a tattoo on his neck” Chihoro said with wide eyes as she relayed the information to mother and the other girls.

“A thug ?” Mother said with worry causing the other girls to laugh.

“His not a thug” you said rolling your eyes at the words of the young women you resided with.

“His a business man and a charming one at that” you said sticking out your tongue playfully as you took your leave.

“You’re late” Ran said with a raised brow and a smirk painted on his lips.

“Sorry I was busy washing clothes” you lied as you took his hand.

The warmth of his hands overwhelming the cold sensation of yours, that was not to long ago touching another man.

“You know when I marry you, you won’t have to work this hard anymore” Ran said as he brought you over to a bench that was placed right under a cherry blossom tree.

You looked at the blossom noting the colour to be the exact colour of the other man’s hair, unlike Ran’s whose hair was the colour wisteria.

“You should let me come and meet your family, I bet they would be delighted to find you with a man like me. A man who will provide for you” Ran added as he looked into your eyes, his hand finding your chin as he brought your lips closer to his as he waited for an answer from you.

“Ran you - ” you began to speak but before you could finish Ran finished your sentence for you.

“I can’t. I know (Y/N) you’ve been telling me for awhile now” Ran said as he removed his hand from your chin and the other from your hand leaving them once again cold.

“I don’t understand why you’re so ashamed of them”

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of them. It was that the people who you referred to as your family weren’t actually blood related to you they were you sisters in the yukaku.

You didn’t know how it would look on you if he was seen hand in hand with the most well known Oiran of the red light distract, about to go ask her ‘family’ for her hand in marriage.

“Or is it me you’re ashamed of” Ran said his eyes burning hot with anger and sadness.

The only person you were ashamed of was yourself. Laying with different men day in and day out. Moaning for them, allowing them to touch you in places that Ran had yet to discover. In simple terms you were cheater. And you knew, feeling the weight of this everytime a man rutted into you, everytime a man released himself into you and everytime they kissed you tenderly.

And even though your clientele was more reserved due to your status as oiran it didn’t make you feel any better at the fact that you were still seeing other men behind Ran’s back.

“I’m not ashamed of you Ran. I’m just not ready yet” you said trying your best to hold back a sob.

“When will you be ready (Y/N). I love you, can’t you see it. I want to spend every second with you, I never want you to depart my side”

You bit your lip looking down at the fallen cherry blossoms, trying you best to find an answer.

“I don’t know” you replied honestly.

You weren’t sure when you would tell Ran about what you were or who you were doing.

You felt as Ran’s arms grabbed at your waist bringing your closer to him, feeling as his lips met your forehead similar to how the man you were pleasuring not to long ago.

“I understand, you may take your time but please do not take to long” Ran whispered to you.

Ran’s words echoed in your mind as you closed your eyes tightly holding onto him with conviction afraid for the day that he would push you away.

You and Ran clung onto each other for a moment longer before you began to open your eyes and the pink colour of the cherry blossoms once again caught your attention.

And all to sudden the sweet moment the two of you had was ruined by the thoughts of how only a few hours ago you were begging out for the man with the diamond scars, and the feeling of regret was only intensified at the realisation that you enjoyed that pink haired man. Loving the way he made you feel.

Mother was right, you thought. Oiran’s could never be loved by one when they sold their bodies to others.

“You’re cheating on him (Y/N)-chan. Every other client you never see again but that cherry blossom haired one you see every week, he has fallen for you and you for him. It is no longer transactional, your emotions are intertwined and so are Ran’s” Michiko’s words rang through your head as you felt Ran’s grip on your hand tighten pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I love you” Ran said.

But you did not reply rather placing a soft kiss of his cheek, the kiss of a cheater.

.

.

.

All rights reserved to @rinrinx2

Do not copy

[neutrallibrarian]

To Fan The Moonbeams From His Sleeping Eyes

Written for @madatobiweek 2024 Day 3: Cultural Differences / Traditions

Fandom: Naruto

Chapter 1 of ?

Word Count: 1,369

After a long training session with his genin and their tagalong friends, Kagami wheedles Tobirama into coming with him to the Uchiha District to check out a new shop. Browsing through the display cases at Uchiha Senbei with Kagami chatting by his side, Tobirama watches an Uchiha teen interact with an Inuzuka teen by the front counter. His curiosity was piqued by the deliberate motions of the Uchiha’s hand fan, ostensibly for cooling down from the heat but the way it is being used suggests something more. A code language involving fans, perhaps?

Kagami, following Tobirama’s gaze to see what caught his attention, makes a face when his clansman lays his half-closed fan over his lips. “Really, in public, Hoshiko?”

The fan jerks closed and rests on his left cheek as Hoshiko turns to fix a gimlet eye on him. Kagami mimes holding a fan on his right cheek with a cheeky grin. Hoshiko’s fan slides to rest on his left ear as he glares harder. Kagami maturely sticks out his tongue at his cousin.

“You are such a brat,” Hoshiko huffs, rolling his eyes while fighting a smile.

“I’m not the one flirting with Rōga-san in public,” Kagami sing-songs.

Hoshiko blushes faster than he can hide his face behind his fan as Rōga chokes on a senbei. Rōga’s ninken partner jumps to his feet and barks, placing his front paws on Rōga’s hip, but he waves him off. They follow after Hoshiko as he beats a flustered retreat outside the shop, a strangled shout of “You were flirting with me?!” echoing from the street.

Kagami giggles his head off. Uchiha An, proprietress of Uchiha Senbei, levels a disapproving eye upon the genin, causing him to squeak and half hide behind Tobirama from her stern gaze.

Unperturbed, Tobirama asks Kagami, “Do the Uchiha have a sign language involving hand fans?”

“Yeah, it’s an old tradition from when we attended the Daimyo’s court more often.” Kagami makes a disgusted face as he steps out of hiding. “It’s mostly used for flirting nowadays.”

How fascinating, and with a history of being quite the discreet communication tool. It could be useful in his Anbu project, but for now the primary goal is to understand an entirely new language.

“Can it be taught to people outside of your clan?”

Kagami fumbles his hold on a senbei, cracking it down the middle. “Sensei, you want to learn about boring old fans?”

“I find it fascinating that people can convey an entire conversation in the gestures of their hand fan, as you just did with Hoshiko-san.”

“That’s because Hoshiko was flirting in public, Sensei! He was asking Rōga-san to kiss him right in front of my senbei!” Tobirama assumes he means the gesture before he interrupted them was the kiss question and mentally notes to never use it.

“Enough, Kagami,” An admonishes, coming around the counter with fresh baked senbei to give him. “You shouldn’t tease your cousin about his crushes or he’ll pay you back twice over when you have yours.” With Kagami busy grumbling into a senbei between bites, An turns to Tobirama. “If you wish to learn the Uchiwa Code there’s a class held by the koi pond in the heart of the Uchiha District. I’m afraid you may have some trouble being taught, tensions because of the feud lingering I’m sure, but just ask Hoshiko if you’re turned away.”

“Thank you for your help, An-san,” Tobirama says, nodding his head in gratitude.

The next day, Tobirama goes to the koi pond after work. Without Kagami or another person by his side, the Uchiha keep their distance and their eyes on his movements, but are otherwise content to ignore him.

The path as described to him by An leads him to the main clan house then a little ways off to the side, the pond self-contained but within the garden of the property. By the koi pond is a gazebo, red painted wood vibrant against the scenery, and where a chabudai has been set up inside. Sitting sprawled on a zabutan at the table is a youth with red tattoos on his face, engrossed in a book.

“Hello, Hoshiko-kun, correct?” Tobirama greets—and catches the book before it hits his face and watches in concern as the teen nearly slams his head against a pillar in his startled scramble to back away. “My apologies for startling you.”

The teen calms down, a hand over his heart. “No, I should have been paying attention. I’m sorry for throwing—” Here he seems to recognize who disturbed him, face blushing as he tries to hide it behind his hands. “Oh no, you’re Kagami’s sensei, I saw you in the shop yesterday…”

“If it’s any consolation, I only have one criticism of your exit.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I would have used shunshin to get out of there.”

Tobirama keeps his face deadpan as Hoshiko stares at him wide-eyed then breaks into laughter, waving him to a seat next to him. Tobirama gives him a smile and offers him his book back once he’s seated.

Catching the title as it exchanges hands, Tobirama asks, “Are you studying Senju medical texts?”

“Yeah. I mean, I already read through everything Elder Healer Amiha would let me borrow from the clan library and the new public library has a more thorough medical section so I figured…”

He’s interrupted by the arrival of four older people, one carrying a tea service tray as the three others have bento boxes and another tray. There’s a noticeable pause in their steps when they see him, but the man strides forward after a quick glance around the gazebo, the rest falling in line behind him. Tobirama and Hoshiko get up from their seats to help where they can, though Tobirama is gently guided back to his by an elderly woman with a sharp hair stick in her hair bun and sharper eyes. Once the tea and snack trays have been laid out and everyone in their seats, the first man turns to him, holding his hand fan open in his left hand.

“Hello, I’m Akamatsu, Hoshiko’s grandfather. What brings you here today, Senju-san?”

If that’s the same Uchiha Akamatsu from his grandfather’s tales, then it is best to tread lightly. “Honored to meet you, Akamatsu-san. An-san from Uchiha Senbei said I could learn the Uchiwa Code here?”

“You could, but to be taught, what is your reason for learning it?”

“I have a project in mind for the village’s security that I believe the code could be used as the shorthand language for, if not then the basis for it.”

Akamatsu hums, flicking his fan in a quick wave at Hoshiko. He responds in kind with his fan, twirls it in a little circle in Tobirama’s direction, passes it to his left hand, and opens it wide. A middle-aged kunoichi flicks hers closed toward her forehead with a small jerk to the right and is rebutted by Hoshiko resting the fan on his right cheek. Then follows a discussion in a rapidfire shorthand version of the code language, and Tobirama watches their expressions instead to keep track of the conversation. Akamatsu is unflappable throughout it all, but the others scowl and narrow their eyes at Hoshiko, who scowls right back, mouth twitching at the corner like he wants to vocally argue in addition to his hand fan.

Hoshiko thrusts his hand toward Tobirama and lets the fan drop from his grip, the clatter of it on the chabudai startling the others into stillness.

A glint of interest alights in Akamatsu’s eyes and he leans forward, watching Tobirama. Hoshiko and the women do as well, their fans closed and carried in the right hand. Hoshiko nods his head toward the fan when he sees Tobirama’s attention on him.

He reaches for the fan and, when no one stops him, picks it up. Then, at a calculated guess, rests it on his right cheek.

Hoshiko beams happily, the women sighing as they set their fans on the table, and Akamatsu laughs as he sets his down.

“A friend of Hoshiko’s is more than welcome to learn the Uchiwa Code. Come, have some tea and mochi.”

[t-art-c]

"How would you hold me in your arms?"

CW: Physical abuse (scara broke your wrist)

The Balladeer scoffed when he heard the question.

It was a stupid question coming from an equally stupid mortal. However, he can't complain too much as he married the same stupid mortal in this lifetime.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as you await his answer.

Yes, you are truly stupid for needing an answer for such a stupid question. Nothing will be enough for someone like you. Someone who will never live long enough to see him become a god.

So, he humored you.

"Why would I even hold someone like you?"

It was spiteful, as he intended. Maybe with an answer like that you would finally shut up and let him enjoy his tea.

"Why did you marry me then?"

Another stupid question. This time he is not entertaining you.

Slamming his cup down, he glared at you from across the chabudai. Some tea spilled from his cup and drip down his hand. Fortunately, it does not hurt him.

He grabbed your wrist and squeezed. You let out a hiss as you reached out with your other hand and grabbed his hand.

"I thought you're wondering how I would hold you? Is this not how you envisioned it?"

Tears started forming from the corner of your eyes as you tightened your grip to make him let go. However, he only squeezed tighter which made you start clawing at his hand.

He let out a small tsk at your futile attempts to free yourself from his grip.

"What? Are you afraid...?"

You started to shake as you feel your wrist breaking from the pressure.

"Remember this, and remember well..."

He smiled softly and raised his other hand to brush some stray hair away from your face.

"This is the only way I would hold you to make sure you would never even dare of thinking of leaving."