#one piece pink haired characters

[laurasoretta]

Bonney who quickly became one of my fav characters and not for her heartbreaking story with Kuma, but because of pizza. 🍕

(Yeah, of course I love her even more after have found out her story...)

[daikonchu]

pretty boy era

[diggity-didge]

The biggest jumpscare is reading a manga and then watching the anime and a characters hair color is COMPLETELY different than what you assumed it to be due to the shading/tone applied

[elles-home]

if i knew how to draw i’d draw a modern au of one piece where it’s luffy’s birthday and his favourite cartoon is adventure time and so yes he’s turning 21 this year but it’s a costume party and everyone is requested to dress up and obviously luffy is finn the human (zoro is also finn the human bc he’s a sword guy and sanji ALSO wants to go as finn bc he’s resembles finn the most physically but i can’t decide if they all three show up as finn or sanji decides to go as another character) but all of this to say i want robin to show up dressed as marceline the vampire queen

update: i may not know how to draw but i do know how to write and so i wrote it here

[fulgurbugs]

todays acquisitions: shirahoshi and a bratz chair for the mh girls

[iris-nonsense]

She saved zoro's stupid ass i love her

[atherflame-theconcubus]

Old Sona lore.

For anyone curious I’ve had multiple Sona’s throughout my Internet life. I haven’t even mentioned it yet, but my profile picture isn’t even my main Sona anymore.

If anyone is curious, this is my second ever Sona and technically was my last pixel gun 3D avatar. This was one of her earliest designs as well. As of right now, her current name is flame Foxtail. I decided to make an origin story for how she got her first pet, Gabby, the goat. (almost every single pet after Gabby was named after a Minecraft YouTuber, except the spider crab pet, which I named blood vines. And if you’re wondering, yes, I am having regrets now.)

[tinyetoile]

Sooo a while ago I had an idea for a Zelda fic I call “Cluck of the Wild”, where the premise is that Ganon takes control of Link’s body from the Shrine of Resurrection, and Zelda, in desperation, casts her spirit out in search of someone, anyone... and ends up in the body of a Cucco, also named Zelda, in the possession of Link’s grand-niece, also named Link.

I drew the design on the left first, but then I wanted to see what a version where her outfit draws more from Linkle would look like, so I drew the one on the right.

I want to get the fic out before TotK so I really need to start hauling ass and get to writing...

[hauntingblue]

Franky saving nami and her calling him big brother..... the connotations of this... big day for me especifically

[rotibakasstuff]

I have completely given up on linearting my drawings

That being said, here's some of my recent (coloured) drawings:

[fataledvenus]

Blossom Beauty

Mun: Venus has more colors of the outfit she wears since she has them custom made on shops she visited on islands.

[homoquartz]

this post is not gonna be well put together but i am having feelings

mean girls is trending right now because the musical movie just came out and i feel insane. idk why i do, it was stupid of me to think that most people Got It, no one ever gets it, it was always about the memes and the aesthetic.

the first mean girls movie was based on a nonfiction book called queen bees and wannabes. it interviewed and discussed the social hierarchy system in teen girl friendships. how they hold each other to these insane standards of heternormative femininity out of sheer terror that they won't meet those standards themselves. the way they leverage their relationships for some small degree of power in a world designed to strip them of it, even if it drags other girls down.

the "you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week and on wednesdays we wear pink" speech was not an original creation for the script. it's a QUOTE from a real teenage girl. those were REAL RULES.

then the musical came, and it was one step removed from the intended messaging of the film. OG mean girls was not perfect (and was extremely racist), but it said what needed said. the musical leaned on the comedy more, but still left a heartfelt undertone, and still critiqued the systems in place. of course no piece of media is going to be perfect, but it was about the conversation.

then this new movie comes out and it is washed over in the veneer of white hollywood feminism so thick you can't see anymore. the problematic aspects of the original movie are taken out to avoid "offending" when the offense was the point. it becomes toothless, it becomes some other thing entirely. they changed karen's line "i expect to run the world in shoes i cannot walk in" to "watch me as i run the world in shoes i cannot walk in." because choice feminism is in vogue, suddenly this character whose entire point is that she doesn't think deeply about WHY she does anything is suddenly hip to the fact that the world is against her.

i think of sokka losing his misogyny arc in the new atla. i think of the Heathers remake casting the bitchy, identical heathers as queer and hollywood-fat outcasts. as if the story, the meaning, the allegory is hidden in the sets and the jokes and the music. it's a whole new thing now, and it's a thing that means nothing in particular.

the plastics should not wear jeans. they should not have curves. their queerness should be suppressed, painful. their sexuality is not a slay, it's the only thing they think they have of value. the santa dance isn't sexy, it's shocking, it's mortifying - they are children.

they're not mean because "we are all mean." they are mean because they are girls in a world that brutalizes them and crushes them into a standardized shape. they are mean because the world is mean to them. they are mean because it gives them some power back. they are mean because it's the only weapon they have.

the landscape of femininity today has shifted to camera-ready makeup at the age of 10, stringent performative hygiene standards, and avoiding being caught on film while having a genuine emotion. the consumerism, the fatphobia, the racism, the classism, the homophobia remain. We could have had a conversation about that.

[eternalsa2z]

Caricature

"Done! What do you think?"

Deborah stared at the artist's sketch of her blankly. It had long, white blonde hair and a heavy golden tan, the inverse of her pale skin and brown hair. There were blue eyes and a cute button nose, which made the woman blink and wrinkle her own nose with confusion. She grabbed her chest in shock at the sight of the massive silicone breasts squeezed into a tiny pink bikini top. It was a combination she could never be caught wearing.

"This caricature looks nothing like me!" she gasped indignantly.

"Oh, my mistake. I forgot one detail," the creator apologized. "The character is the most important piece of the living artwork."

With that the designer booped her nose with a pink brush. Instantly Deborah went cross eyed. Her thoughts swirling in her head before being emptied out like a rainbow of watercolor paints being washed away. Eventually her blank stare and pout ended when she took a new look at the painting.

"OMG you're sooooo right! The carrie-coutour totes looks 'xactly like Debi!" the silly blonde giggled. She loved the painting...it made her look hawt!

[coffee-and-geto]

“IS THIS WHAT YOU EXPECTED?”

pairing: ryomen sukuna × f!reader

summary: yuji itadori had been your crush for a while now. to try and get closer to him despite your bashful nature — you asked him to a movie night at your place. but nothing goes as planned when sukuna takes possession of him and makes you a deal to help you get closer to your friend…

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, possessive! sukuna, dirty talk, degradation (slut, brat), dub con, dom! sukuna, sub! reader, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), yuji is an aged up character, swearing, fanart found on pinterest if you know the artist let me know pls.

wc: 2, 946

“Oops…” murmurs Yuji as you come down the stairs of your house with a small stack of DVDs in hand.

The bowl of popcorn that you filled just five minutes ago for your movie night is now empty, and you blink as you approach the kitchen counter. “Yuji…” You snort and go to fetch another bag of popcorn from one of the cupboards to refill the bowl.

The sound of popcorn kernels clattering fills the room, and Yuji has a slight pout on his lips. He takes a few hesitant steps toward you and seeks your gaze. Still new to the romantic feelings you had for him, his unusual closeness catches you off guard, and you slowly back up to the counter in measured steps. You force a natural smile, and your heart races at the sight of your friend, whose eyes show disappointment.

“It’s nothing, Yuji. I usually have a lot of popcorn,” you try to reassure him. “But you have quite an appetite for such a fit teenager.” You swallow thick.

Yuji lets out a nervous laugh, seemingly more at ease than a few seconds ago, “You think so?”

Your eyes drift down to his body, eyeing his exposed forearms (he had kept his sorcerer uniform on despite your recommendation to get comfortable), and the defined muscles do not escape your notice: for a teenager his age, Yuji Itadori was very fit.

“Yeah... Pretty much…” Your eyes linger for a moment longer before you look back up at the pink-haired boy whose face you dream of covering with kisses.

Dressed in your pajama shorts and a simple t-shirt, it’s hard to stay perfectly calm, especially when your crush is less than two meters away from you.

Yuji steps forward nonchalantly, hands in his pockets, and steals a piece of popcorn which he skillfully tosses into his mouth. “So, what are we going to watch?”

“I was thinking about some thriller movies or something like that. I’m not too fond of horror movies,” you admit with a shy smile.

“Oh yeah? Why? Are you afraid you won’t sleep at night after that?” Yuji teases you. You nod toward the small stack of DVDs, and he takes the liberty of looking through your selection. “Scream’s pretty good,” he comments, picking it up to examine it with a ‘professional’ eye. Yuji’s brown eyes land on you, and you feel an uncomfortable warmth rise in your neck. “The DVD is new. Have you seen it before?” he asks with a surprisingly gentle, almost… concerned and indulgent tone.

You shake your head.

“I won’t spoil it, but I really liked it,” Yuji sets the other DVDs aside and shows you the one for ‘Scream.’ “Is that okay with you?”

You nod faintly, and a slit appears on Yuji’s cheek. It opens, revealing two sharp canines that are easily recognizable from spending so much time with your friend.

“Damn it, you two are really embarrassing to watch.” A voice escapes from the slit — the mouth that acts as an intermediary with Ryomen Sukuna.

“Hey! Go back to sleep!” exclaims Yuji, almost slapping himself, which makes you wince.

A hysterical laugh echoes, and black marks now streak your friend’s face. The laughter and the slit disappear, making way for Ryomen Sukuna. He stretches his arms up, flexing smoothly. “Ahhh!”

You try to back away but have forgotten you’re leaning against the kitchen counter. Now you’re stuck with the King of Curses…

“D-Don’t come any closer…” you whisper in a trembling voice, eyes wide with terror.

Another hysterical laugh escapes Sukuna’s lips. His eyes — so different from those of your lover — examine you from head to toe, and one eyebrow arches. “What was his type again? Tall girls with big asses?”

You blush at his mocking tone and don’t dare say a word. Even your breathing seems to have become labored, as if the oxygen had thickened in just a few seconds.

A sneer never leaves Sukuna’s lips as he approaches you with an overwhelming air of confidence. When he reaches you, he narrows his eyes and looks you up and down a second time. “So this is the kid you want to flirt with?” His voice is dripping with arrogance…

You swallow hard and don’t dare to respond, your throat tight and your wide eyes fixed on the tattoos of the King of Curses.

“Come on, rabbit, cat got your tongue?” Sukuna snickers.

You shake your head, and a rough whisper escapes your dry throat, “N-No…”

“Oh really? Because the atmosphere a minute ago was so cringeworthy! You two looked like a couple of idiots fresh out of their mother’s womb, ugh!” Sukuna leans in provocatively, his hot breath brushing your cheek and stealing your own.

“What do you want from me?” you murmur reluctantly, pulling your head back slowly to find some breathable air.

“Nothing, just to avoid hearing your terribly awkward conversation any longer,” Sukuna replies, shrugging.

“It wasn’t awkward, you made it seem that way. Give Yuji back his body,” you dare to retort. Your heart pounds faster and harder in your chest, loud enough for Sukuna to hear.

“Nah, I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to deal with the stifling aura of a hormonal teenager again.” Sukuna rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the side. “Do you like this brat?”

You squint without answering.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he raises a playful eyebrow. “How about we make a deal?”

“No,” you reply immediately.

“What an ingrate! I grant you my tolerance and you dare refuse a deal I give you?” he retorts with a much less sympathetic aura. His hands leave his pockets to rest on either side of the counter, effectively trapping you with him. “I don’t recall asking you a question.”

And his voice immediately makes you regret your words. Being trapped at home with Ryomen Sukuna was not something you could let slide, much less making a deal with him. “No, actually— I—”

“Hush.”

Sukuna’s hands slide from the counter to your hips, gripping them firmly, making you startle in place. His lips descend to your neck, leaving a line of soft kisses, causing a slight shiver. His eyes notice the goosebumps on your skin and his lips curl. “Is this what you expected?” His whisper reverberates like a shockwave through your entire body.

“I— You— No,” you manage to reply almost in a gasp.

“Here’s my proposition then. I help you get closer to the brat on one condition.” A manic smile lights up Sukuna’s face, and your heart now tries to escape your chest.

“What?” you let out almost in a whimper when he presses his lower body against yours.

“Let me use you.”

Your breath immediately reacts to the panic that overwhelms you. No way. You’ll end up dead in that case.

“No, that’s out of the question—” You try to finally slip out of his embrace, but your strength doesn’t match Sukuna’s. He applies more pressure on your hips and plants a kiss on your trapezius muscle. "Just for tonight. Nothing bad will happen to you…” His insistent tone is like a flirtatious purr.

The sensation of Yuji’s lips and much more on you and the idea of being closer makes the blood rush to your head, so how can you refuse such a tempting offer?  But the awareness that he’s using Yuji’s body cools your thoughts.

“No, I can’t— It’s disrespectful to Yu—”

“Are you his owner to know what respect means? Do you think I’m unaware of his adolescent thoughts imagining you with him?” Sukuna’s hands move up to your waist, his nails digging into your back, eliciting a whine from you. “The number of times he’d dreamt of hearing you moan like that?”

If your face could get any redder at this point, the blood might as well explode from your body at any moment.

Your features twist in irritation and anger at what he said next. “If I let myself get fucked by someone like you, I’m sure I won’t come out of it alive!”

A chuckle is your only response. “I’ll try to go easy then. But no promises.” Then he grabs you by the hips to lift you onto the counter and roughly spreads your legs. He slips between them and captures your lips in a rough and hungry kiss. Your breath leaves your lips as he swallows it, not giving you a moment to respond to his taunt. You respond against your will, your lips devouring each other and teeth clashing.

Sukuna sinks his teeth into your lower lip, making you suck in a sharp breath. His wet tongue soothes your aching flesh and moves down your throat to lick a strip of bare skin. The tension and weight of his movement make you shiver, and you hastily take the initiative to remove your shirt, revealing your chest encased in a bra. It rises and falls with your breathing, radiating a heat full of desire.

Sukuna lets out an appreciative whistle that makes you blush. “Do I still need to take control?” he teases with a smirk. “Or is this the behavior of a slut?”

The label makes your heart tremble, and your hands quickly find Sukuna’s neck to bring his addictive lips back to yours. He immediately returns your kiss and plays for a few seconds with the strap of your bra before finding his way to the clasp and undoing it. The bra falls to the floor, and Sukuna’s hands find the curves of your breasts. A whimper escapes your lips, and you close your eyes for a second to savor the new sensation.

A growl is blown from him after breaking away from your lips to snake a path to your collarbone, which he wastes no time in nibbling on. A small jolt shakes your belly, and you tilt your chin up to give him more access to your body. You almost desperately try to remain silent, but it’s difficult when Sukuna’s mouth suckles on a nipple anything but gently. The pressure makes you moan and grimace in pleasure.

“Sukuna—”

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, moving to your other nipple. He gently nibbles on the hardened, sensitive bud while his other hand keeps the other nipple occupied, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You hum and place your hands on your thighs to keep them from trembling — in vain. “The kid wasn’t wrong,” Sukuna murmurs. He wraps his arms around your waist and swiftly carries you to the couch. Your back sinks into the soft cushions as Sukuna’s skilled fingers find the hem of your shorts and remove them completely, with no regard for your embarrassment. His legs straddle the armrest of the couch, and he brutally spreads your thighs, remaining still, his eyes fixed on the large wet spot at the center of your panties. “Who was talking about respect for whom, again?” A dark, mocking smile questions you.

A tremor runs through your muscles, and you prepare to close your legs, but Sukuna anticipates the movement. He places his hands on the inside of your plush thighs to keep them wide open. “Is the dirty slut afraid?” He chuckles before sliding a finger along the side of your underwear, teasing and toying with your swollen core. “So wet f’me…” Your eyes take in the sight of Sukuna’s face: dilated pupils, slightly parted mouth, and almost ragged breathing. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your clothed intimate area.

Blood pounds in your temples when he easily removes your panties, leaving you naked beneath him. His forefinger and middle finger hover over your wet, dripping entrance. “Already worked up by a few kisses…” he comments, and you can only look at him pathetically.

“Sukuna, please…” you whimper as the sensation of his two fingers gliding from your sensitive, throbbing bundle of nerves to your wet folds makes you want to moan even more.

“Please what?” he repeats, focused on your entrance that tightens and closes around nothing. “Already begging?” He bursts into a fit of laughter. “I can’t wait to fill you with my dick…”

“Need you,” you whine with a pout and pleading eyes. And God, he wants to take you rough and fast at that moment.

“Again.” He looks up at you. “Beg for it.” His brown eyes burn with desire — a desire so intense, it could destroy if he didn’t play it patiently.

“Please… Sukuna… I—” But you’re cut off by a yelp from your throat as Sukuna’s fingers plunge hard into you, and he hisses to contain himself.

You’re incredibly tight. Your gummy walls cling to his fingers as if afraid they might escape.

“Fuck… You’re so wet…” He growls, moving his fingers in and out, making you tighten even more. Uncontrolled moans escape from you, resonating in the room.

“Sukuna… hgnn— so good…” you moan pathetically, squirming under him like a trapped mouse in his snare. His pace doesn’t change, going in and out of you, reaching that spot deep inside you each time he goes deeper.

“That’s it… Moan my name,” he murmurs, accelerating his pace. You convulse on the couch and grip the edges of the seats as if your life depended on it.

And reaching the depths of your pussy, Sukuna grins and bursts into laughter at your body’s reaction. You almost scream his name, and your walls swallow his fingers. They curl deep inside your womb, and your trembling legs and ragged breath testify to your state approaching the edge of ecstasy. “Sukuna— Please… so close...”

“That’s it… Cum on my fingers… I want to see you fall apart in front of me…” he whispers in a husky voice. The speed of his fingers thrusting into you increases, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and almost scream his name.

“Cumming…!” you pant as your back arches and your walls spasm around his thick fingers. You squirt and sob his name pitifully.

Sukuna curls his lips into a sadistic smile and gradually slows the pace of his fingers inside you. He eventually withdraws them completely, admiring the shiny slickness coating his forefinger and middle finger.

“Hmm…” he hums, bringing his fingers to his mouth to taste you. He growls in satisfaction and wastes no time removing his pants and underwear, leaving you barely a moment to take in the sight of his throbbing bulge finally being freed.

If you had bet on Yuji’s length size, you could have won much more money than you thought.

It was just like in your dreams, large, thick, aching, and slightly veiny. Your lips part, and you don’t take your eyes off its reddened, sensitive tip. Sukuna grips his length in his hand and brings it to your needy pussy. The tip meets your swollen clit and taps it.

Sukuna’s lenght twitches slightly in his hand, eager to fill you. The aching tip glides along your folds, spreading them to stop and position itself at your entrance.

“Uh… Can we go—” But you’re cut off. You scream in surprise as his thick member fills your hole in one go, reaching the bottom with almost no difficulty — except for your tightness revealing a side of Sukuna you never thought you’d see: him, teeth and jaw clenched, holding back everything except a low growl and dozens of curses to convey how good you feel wrapped around him. His member splits you in a delicious embrace. Eyes closed, he starts a slow in-and-out motion, forcing you to sob his name in pleasure.

But the only downside was that you weren’t quite used to him yet, your body writhing to try to slow the pace. His hips buck against yours more and more quickly. With each thrust, he hits your gummy spot, making you tighten around him and moan his name, the sound of which is like music to his ears.

Another growl escapes Sukuna as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, nibbling your shoulder. “Take it… Take it…” he keeps murmuring between loud breaths.

“F-Fuck… It’s too much…” you gasp, gripping his shoulders with your hands. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders, and every time his slams into you hit your g-spot, it’s like you’re about to cum any moment, fucking both your cunt and your brains out mercilessly.

“Take it, slut,” he growls in your ear, his lenght twitching in you, ready to fill you with every pound he makes. “I’m gonna fill you up… Fill you until you scream you can’t take it anymore…”

His hips relentlessly roll against you, and Sukuna revels in the cries of pleasure you express. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, on the verge of exploding. One final pound inside you and it bursts as you reach your climax around him, fucking you even through your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls at such a rapid pace it feels like you’re emerging from a near-drowning experience.

Your waning orgasm is quickly followed by Sukuna’s. “Sh-Shit… Fuuuuck…” he growls in your ear, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Without warning, his orgasm take over him and he finishes inside you with his hot, thick load into your tight hole.

Now, only rough groans and sighs are heard in the room. You let your head fall back onto one of the sofa seats and close your eyes, exhausted. Sukuna slowly withdraws from you and lies down by your side, one hand still around your hip in a possessive embrace.

“You know, brat, if you’re not Yuji’s type, at least you’re mine. Just sayin’.”

a/n: this fic wasn’t planned MWAHAHAHA! i’m sorry tho 😭 it’s been 3 weeks or more than i’m promising to post my fashion designer! suguru fic and i didn’t finish it. i’ve got problems to solve and it’s making me more stressful than i thought 🫠 hope you enjoyed anyway (it’s my first smut tbh)

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”