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#yeah? yeah? yeah? yeah? yeah? y-
lancelot-sharpkeen · 11 months
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@royalreef
baps lance with her paws. baps lance with her paws. baps lance with her paws. fucka you.
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nkogneatho · 11 months
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"i can't believe you did this to me, toru" you looked at him with almost tears in your eyes. your heart was aching. you couldn't believe that you just witnessed the love of your life betraying you. and the worst part was...he wasn't he even sorry about it. not an ounce of shame or regret masked his face.
"you want me to be sorry? aww poor thing. you'll never get my apology, y/n." he mocked you.
"after all those times we spent together...this is how you treat me?"
"you deserve it if i am being honest," he spat. how can he say that? did he never love you? was all that a lie??
"i can't believe you right now. i wish this was a nightmare. i loved you so much but you? you give me this in return?"
"babe. i love you too but pick up 24 cards. you can't win this time," he pointed at the deck of uno cards. he really pulled out three draw fours on you. well he was right. you did deserve it since you did the same last week. but you thought he'd go easy on you.
"i hope your favorite kikufuku stores shuts down." you glare angrily at him while counting the cards you have to pick
"you take that back or i'll give you another draw two."
"FUCK YOU, GOJO SATORU!!"
"yeah, i love you too"
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prodigaldaughteralice · 2 months
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The easiest code in the book, the only one I got on my first read-through (I’m gonna go back with a notebook to get at the rest), and genuinely made me tear up.
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emmyrosee · 1 month
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The “would you kiss me for $10 or the prettiest girl on the world for $1000?” trend with modern au bf sukuna 👀👀
dummy 🙄 sukuna???
SENT If you send me some fuck shit, hand to god
dummy 🙄 would you kiss me for $10
or kiss the prettiest girl ever for $1000???
SENT Depends on who the competition is
There's three dots that indicate you're typing, then they disappear. They reappear, and he chuckles as he imagines you, fighting for the words to come to your mind as he effortlessly, works your buttons. The dots disappear again, and this time, they stay gone. He quirks a brow at the lack of angry texts from you, only to then groan at the idea that this time, he's taken it too far, his jokes have gotten him nowhere, and he takes a deep breath in to keep himself cool in the dairy aisle at the convenience store.
SENT It was a joke, brat
I'd never want to kiss anyone else
Not when I get to kiss you for free, any time I want, you know that, right?
You merely put your phone on Do Not Disturb. He takes another deep breath in as he digs himself deeper into the hole of your wrath, and he quickly makes his way to the snack aisle, grabbing your favorite chips and heading straight for the candy aisle for an extra boost. By the time he's done, it looks like he's throwing a damn birthday party, but he can't bring himself to care. Not when you're at home, pouting over him.
By the time he gets home, you still haven't answered him. He braces himself for your silence as he unlocks the door and nudges it open with his knee. To his surprise, you're in the kitchen making tea, but there's a blanket covering your body with only your face peeking out.
"You look comfy," he hums, and you sneak a hand out of your cocoon to grab your mug of tea.
"Well since I'm so hideous and disgusting that even my own boyfriend doesn't want to kiss me, I've decided to become a recluse," you hiss, making your way back down the hall. "Don't follow me."
"You know I'm going to follow you," he scoffs, instantly following you down the hall into your shared bedroom. There's a blue light cascading over the walls from the tv, and the curtains are drawn shut. You put the tea on your side table and scuttle back into bed. He rolls his eyes and walks his way on your side of the bed. "Let me kiss you."
"Let me give you $10."
"I'm not taking $10-"
"Well someone has to," you snap. "At least, until you find someone just soooo much prettier than me, then you get even more money to kiss me with. Doesn't that sound like a good plan?"
"Babe, it was a joke-"
"And I'm not laughing."
He snarls his lip slightly before scooping his arms under you, hauling you up and onto his lap and ignoring your shoves and batting of hands. He wastes no time is pressing wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, relishing in how your body shakes trying to hold in your laughter.
“Don’t you ever-“ he kisses your temple firmly. “Deprive me-“ kissing your jawline. “Of your kisses.” His lips press to the corner of your mouth, and the hand not cradling your body comes up to grip your chin to hold you steady. “Brat.”
“Don’t tell me I’m not pretty then!” You whine.
“Of course you’re pretty,” he scoffs, pressing another kiss to your face. “I never said that. I would never say that. You’re the fucking prettiest. You’re mine. Of course you’re the prettiest.”
You go quiet, and he thinks you’re about to get mad at him again; however, you turn to rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a tiny kiss to his neck.
“Say more stuff like that,” you murmur.
He smirks, “there is no girl prettier than you. Trust me.” He turns his head to kiss your other cheek, squishing you slightly in the process. “Ive seen it all, baby. You’re the one. And even if someone tries to give me money to kiss you, I don’t fucking want it-“ he kisses you again. “Because I get to do it for free. And that shit’s priceless.”
“Softie,” you snort. He groans and turns his head to bite your cheek firmly, but his heart speeds up at the way you kick your feet out and flail them in protest. “Oww! I’m sorry, don’t bite!”
“I’m not a child nor a dog, woman,” he grumbles, but he does release your cheek and press a kiss to your brow bone in compensation. “No matter how you see me, anyways.”
“My feral little doggy,” you prod.
He yaks, but can’t help the smirk that curls on his cheeks from your laughter.
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koolaidashley · 4 months
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Old (new.?) habits die hard ig
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cacaocheri · 3 days
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oh my god i never posted these
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lunarmoves · 3 months
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"have you—" you started, then stopped to mull over the phrasing of your question.
"have i?" sun's lighthearted response came a moment later when you hadn't yet said anything. he straightened up from where he'd been cleaning off one of the art tables in the daycare and spun his head around so he could peer at you backwards.
you twisted your lips to the side, your gaze directed skywards in thought. "hang on, i'm trying to figure out how to phrase this." your legs dangled from where you sat atop the security desk, swaying back and forth idly as you strung words together. sun was patient, though you could see the way he glanced around at all the messes he still needed to clean when you looked at him.
slowly, you spoke. "have you ever had like"—you tapped at your chin, eyebrows furrowed—"had any... involuntary actions?"
sun's head tilted to the side, his eyes squinting slightly. "depends. define 'involuntary'."
"well," you said with a hum, "like, i don't know. if something startled you, i guess."
"ah! you mean reactions," sun said, a finger in the air as he came to the realization. "reflexes, in a sense."
you snapped your fingers and pointed at him. bingo! "yeah! exactly that. you ever had any?"
he smiled at you and turned away so he could resume his cleaning. "can't say that we've had! it is an utterly human thing, i'm afraid."
you frowned, shoulders slouching at his easy dismissal. you watched him pick up some scattered crayons on another small table. "really? not at all?"
"nope!" he replied cheerfully. "each and every action we take is done after careful computation, making them all completely voluntary." he tossed the crayons in his large hands into their designated container, then turned to look at you with his hands on his slim hips. "for example, the probability of you answering with 'are they really' is approximately 93.456 percent."
"are they—" you caught yourself from responding in the middle of his explanation, closing your mouth with an audible click. sun gave you a wide grin.
"see? and as such i am able to properly give a response! there is no scenario that i am unprepared for!"
you pursed your lips and discretely reached behind you. "but what if i did"—your fingers snagged onto a crumpled ball of paper and you whipped your hand forward to throw it right at his dumb face—"this!"
without even a blink, sun reached up and caught the wad of paper before it could hit him. his white eyes crinkled into slim crescents. "even that was accounted for, friend!" he tossed the paper off to the side and it landed perfectly into a nearby garbage can. you resisted a groan.
"how could you even account for a stupid action like that?" you asked, huffing slightly out of your nose. talking to sun sure was frustrating sometimes.
there was a small pause. "because i know you, my dear," sun eventually said gently. his smile strained slightly at one side of his face. "and i know how much you like your silly questions."
you rolled your eyes, but didn't deign that with a response. instead, you pouted at him. "so you're just always computing situations and probabilities in your mind, then executing them?"
"right you are! we are capable of analyzing hundreds of thousands of scenarios in an instant, you know."
you mulled over this for a bit, thinking back to all your previous encounters with sun. he went back to tidying up, the silence of the daycare interrupted only by the jingle playing through the overhead speakers.
you weren't about to just let this go. you were nothing but persistent, it seemed. "what about when i've caught you off guard?" you questioned soon after. sun tilted his head again, but didn't turn around to face you this time when he responded.
"you have never caught me off guard, friend," he said, his voice oddly clipped.
your jaw dropped open at the blatant lie. you knew for sure, you'd said or done things he had not expected. "oh that's bullshit, i definitely have! it's always written all over your body language!"
"language," sun warned you, straightening up so he could toss some stray plastic balls back into the ball pit. he brushed off his hands of invisible dirt, then made his way closer to you. he stopped just before you, his shadow casting itself over your seated form on the desk. he booped your nose, a motion that made you cross your eyes to look at his finger. "you have not. i already told you; there is nothing i am unprepared for and nothing i cannot control."
"right," you said, unconvinced. a sudden thought popped in your head just as sun began to turn away, and you opened your mouth to voice it. "what about that thing you do with your hands?"
he stilled, halfway turned from you. "what thing?"
"you know, the—" you made a motion with your hands, flexing your fingers like you were grabbing something invisible. sun watched you from the corner of his eye, pupils of white on a backdrop of cloudy grey. "that thing. or when your rays twitch. are those voluntary?"
like clockwork, one of his rays twitched until it stopped with an audible click. he stared at you, unrelenting in his gaze. you felt wholly exposed underneath it. "...those are simply minor calibrations."
you gave him an unimpressed look. "dude, you're not fooling me. you even sound off right now, you're telling me you're doing it on purpose?"
"yes." he turned back around to face you and laced his fingers together. there was a smile on his face still, but it was frigid. static. "to simulate human behavior in accordance to the data i am being presented with."
you scoffed. "i'm not data, sun, i—"
he leaned down towards you, making you shift back slightly on the desk. a pit was starting to open at the bottom of your stomach. "oh but you are. what do you think i am processing right now if not the data that you consist of?"
your jaw tensed, and when you replied, your voice was stiff. "you know what? i'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that to my face." you glanced down at his hands, where his fingers were twitching against each other. you pointed at them. "is that voluntary too?"
his pupils darted down to look at his hands, then he swiftly tucked them behind his back. "yes, completely." his smile thinned, something lining his voice that you couldn't quite identify. "friend, we have been over this—"
"sun, why are you so—"
"what do you want me to say?!" he snapped out over your own voice, and it was so unexpected that your jaw snapped shut. "that i am not in control of certain actions? that the robot doesn't work like it is supposed to anymore?"
you opened your mouth to respond. but before you could utter a word, a cool palm covered the entirety of your lower face, silencing you. sun moved until his head was inches from your own, his pupils piercing through your own as the lights behind his head cast his face in a deep shadow.
"because i can assure you, friend," he said lowly, grip tightening on your jaw, "you do not want that."
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fic-over-cannon · 2 months
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Sunnie!! I am insane over this concept of Jason marveling over how sensitive his partner is... and now I'm thinking about Jason being feral when he returns from patrol and NEEDING to bury his face between their legs. All he wants is to make them feel good. Oh also, breastplay. I know in my heart he likes his mouth occupied <3
Yes! Yes! Like Jason loves fucking his partner, that’s a given. But as soon as he finds out just how sensitive they are? Well his new favourite place is with his head buried between their thighs seeing how many times he can make them come on his tongue, then his fingers, and only then his cock. (He’ll mix up the order sometimes but he’s pretty set in his routine). Also? When your thighs are wrapped around his ears and he can only taste you, when his fingers are occupied with curling just the way you like and pinning you down so you stop squirming too much, Jason can block out the whole world. It’s a particularly handy trick when patrol doesn’t go so well and all he wants is to block out the world by drowning himself in you. On those nights he likes to make it a competition to see just how many more times than last time he can make you come.
Jason has eating you out down to an exact science. He knows when to give you flat broad strokes of his tongue and exactly how much suction on your clit sends you over the edge. How many fingers to give you before the stretch gets overwhelming and he can feel you spasming. Knows exactly how to walk you right up to the edge of orgasm before pulling away and making you swear in frustration. He’ll push you over the cliff’s edge so many times your thighs will be soaked with it and he’ll still know exactly how to keep you begging for more. When your thighs are trembling and you’re riding that knife’s edge of overstimulation and pleasure, that’s when he knows you’re almost ready for his cock. He won’t give it to you yet though, wants to wait until he’s got you pliant and begging to be fucked even though you were squealing about it being all too much moments ago.
No, what he does next is become gentle. Moves up your body to mouth at your breasts. His chin is obscenely wet, smears of your slick making your breasts shine from where he devours them. Takes his time with biting and sucking at each breast, catching a nipple between his teeth before soothing the sting with a drag of his tongue. Kneading the other breast with a large scarred hand so it doesn’t feel lonely. All the while he’s sliding his cock through the mess you’ve made between your thighs, the tip just catching but not going in any further. Slow maddening strokes a background to the attention he’s paying your chest but driving you mad all the same.
Finally, finally when you’re coming apart at the seams pleading with him to finally make you full, does he relent. Sucking hickies into the soft flesh of your breast he’ll slide in. And because he knows you so well, he’ll have you right where he wants you. Uncertain of if you want to pull him closer or push him away. The scrape of teeth and the pleasure pain of being stretched full almost too much to process. Punched out breaths turning to high pitched whines as you cling to him, cradle his head to your chest and let him take control of you pleasure until there’s stars behind your eyelids and you can’t feel anything beyond Jason.
Jason takes a lot of pleasure in just how sensitive you are after you’ve come for him too. He enjoys how even the gentlest featherlight stroke of your thigh sets you twitching. How the aloe gel he rubs into your sore breasts makes you murmur and squirm at the sensation. Even when the main event is over, there’s a thousand ways for Jason to play with your sensitivity and he’s not in the habit of denying himself your pleasure.
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Hot take, I really don’t think we should assign human morals onto animals and call them bad or evil. Fishblr has internalised this idea really well with sharks, and I think that’s good! Sharks don’t deserve all the fearmongering they suffer from in media. But… can we please remember to extend this to other animals too? Even to intelligent animals like dolphins (most commonly bottlenose dolphins) and orcas. It seems to be a counter to pop culture’s tendency to show dolphins as complete angels when they partake in some messed up things, but like…. Dolphins are still animals? They may be able to recognize themselves in mirrors and they may have language and culture and know how to use tools but their intelligence is still on the level of a human child (and how empathetic are those!!??). I see people talk about how evil dolphins are but I never see people talking about other animals the same way, like, why aren’t sea otters and their “evilness” the topic of discussion? :/
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leafwateraddict · 3 months
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Couldn’t stop thinking about Dust being able to pass as Classic. So I had an idea where Dust replaces Classic in a timeline and steals(?) his partner.
He gets conflicted when he starts actually caring about you… But denial is an easy road to take when there’s seemingly no consequences to your actions.
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The reveal i guess. Most normal reaction to learning your partners been replaced for god knows how long and you have no clue where he is.
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Now that I think about it I might’ve gotten some inspiration from that one chapter of IJAG by @htsan (iykyk) only a lil bit tho
(Full rambling of the idea + extra sketch cuz i liked the expression) ↓↓
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I originally wanted y/n to notice the differences instantly but i think it would be angstier if they didn’t and only noticed like months later >:3
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ping-ski · 1 month
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speak no evil, see no evil, hear... all evil???
@lilakwii i hope u enjoy this little gift since u like sun so much hehe :3
LDR belongs to @spadillelicious !
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azen13 · 18 days
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CW: Yandere Themes
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Yandere!Alhaitham x Endangered Animal Hybrid!Reader...
It starts off innocently enough. After escaping a group of Treasure Hoarders looking to sell you off to whoever would pay the most, you find yourself lost in Gandharva Ville for several days until Tighnari finds you. Knowing that you're at risk of being poached due to your rarity, but also knowing that keeping you—a feral, dangerous, and intelligent being—in close proximity to Collei is a bad idea, the Forest Ranger writes to Alhaitham asking him to house you and keep an eye on you.
After several letters sent back and forth over the course of days, it only takes a little bit of begging on Tighnari's part to convince Alhaitham to look after you for a month. Soon enough, you're moving in and sulking around the confines of your new "home", a pout on your face at the fact that you can't escape. After all, for all your strength and agility, Alhaitham possesses a vision and a powerful intellect. You're outmatched.
Despite your attitude, Alhaitham pays you little mind. He makes sure you're fed, hydrated, and healthy, but rarely speaks more than one or two sentences at a time when talking to you. Over the days, the two of you warm up to one another a little, but nothing noticeable changes in the Scribe's demeanor.
Until he comes home one day to you sitting on a sofa, a book plucked from his personal collection spread on your lap. An Introductory Guide to Zoology, the title reads. After a moment, your ears perk up, registering the door creaking. In a flash, you turn to face him, shock painted bright red across your face.
For a few seconds, all you can hear is the battering ram that is your heartbeat smashing against your mind, chastising you for being so stupid. Now you'd be thrown out and defenseless, with plenty of dangerous people who'd jump at the chance to earn a pretty penny by pawning off a rare hybrid such as yourself.
"S-sorry," you say, shaky hands shutting the cover. But before you can, Alhaitham is quick to grab hold of the book, keeping it open.
He's so close to you, to the point where you can see the rise and fall of his chest, the sheen of sweat on his forehead from walking home in the warm weather, the pure intrigue in his eyes at this new discovery.
You intrigue him.
His eyes narrow slightly. "I didn't know you could read?" He glances at the text, discerning what exactly you're studying—if you are studying at all, that is.
You nod. "I learned when I was very young," you say, your own eyes slowly falling to the floor, willing this conversation to be over. Luckily, the divine seem to answer your prayer and Alhaitham simply shrugs and walks away.
Little do you know, the spark of curiosity he allowed you to see had already grown into a roaring fire, burning with the desire to know you. He could hardly call his interest rational, though he does his best to find justifications and act like he believes them.
The month flies by, and you continue to believe that all is well in the world. You've just begun looking through your few belongings, trying to decide what to keep and what to get rid of before you move out, when Alhaitham enters the doorway. "Tighnari told me that you plan to leave in less than a week."
Looking up from the knick-knacks you own, you turn to Alhaitham. "Yeah. I was planning to go back to Gandharva Ville and live there for a few months," you say, your attention beginning to shift back to your possessions. Conversations with Alhaitham mostly ended after one or two sentences, and you had no reason to believe that this conversation would be any different.
"About that." Alhaitham's voice breaks through your focus like glass. "There have been reports from the Matra of increased poaching in the areas around Gandharva Ville. I'm not forcing you to stay, and neither is Tighnari, but we won't be able to protect you there as well as we can here," he says.
You frown. You had been looking forward to leaving for so long now, tired of being cooped up inside Alhaitham's home with only brief walks outside—under the Acting Grand Sage's supervision, of course—to break up the boredom, only to learn that it would be dangerous to leave the city.
"I...I suppose if it's okay, I'd like to stay," you say after a moment of mental debate.
For a moment, you swear you can see the corners of Alhaitham's lips quirk upwards.
"I'll inform Tighnari of your decision as soon as possible." As per usual, after a moment of silence, Alhaitham walks away.
Time seems to fly by in increasingly rapid intervals. One week becomes two. Two weeks becomes four. Four weeks becomes eight, and so on and so forth. You slowly find yourself ensnared by Alhaitham's careful, subtle manipulation. Gandharva Ville really isn't overrun with poachers, but with how sheltered you are, you don't know that.
And week by week, day by day, you don't realize it but Alhaitham is slowly working to decode you. What about you fascinates him so deeply? As he studies you like he would one of his projects, he only finds himself falling deeper and deeper into obsession, an inescapable loop of positive feedback.
The realization comes to him one night, as dreams of you dance in his head as he sleeps. Your hand brushing against his for only a moment. The empty space on the other side of his bed filled by you, his arms holding you close every night. The tender press of your lips against his. The kind of love that transcends human nature. The kind of love that is divine.
Alhaitham is in love.
And now that he knows it, he can't let you go. Luckily for him though, you'll never escape. After all, he's already domesticated you. It's only a matter of time before you learn to love him, too.
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gunsatthaphan · 3 months
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"if you don't speak, I'll kiss you."
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nkogneatho · 8 months
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they say that the curse king sukuna doesn't have empathy, cannot love, cannot feel the pain, but they're so wrong.
when you appeared in front of sukuna, he felt like he had used all his luck. a person he has loved for over a thousand years. the one that was taken away from him right in front of his eyes back then. you were responsible for the being he was today, for the rage, for the superiority he bears. for the first time, a event that so rare that it had never been documented in history, sukuna's eyes filled with tears. the raging eyes softened, the brows relaxed, and the lips quivered. he waited for you for so long. a shaman had cursed him when he was a human, saying his love would be killed in front of him, and that's what happened a thousand years ago. so for you to reborn after what felt like an eternity and stand in front of him clueless, he felt...happy. the real happiness. god how many years had it been since his heart warmed up, a heart that wasn't his but human boy's yet he could feel the beat fasten. sukuna wanted to hold you, to kiss you. he was going to tell you about all those years he waited for you. he was going to make up for not saving you. he was going to reunite—
*slash*
but history repeats itself. he let his guard down. shit. he let his guard down and now you're on the floor, beheaded by mahito. he felt the rage build up but he couldn't act on it. his grief was stronger than his anger. the instinct to hold you, to...to save you was stronger than killing someone.
"the king of curses, ha? but what is a king without a queen he loves. a man? just a man with no purpose? a living man that is already dead?" he whispered holding your body close. he didn't let those tears fall. couldn't let them. vulnerability is not what he was afraid of, it was loss that he scared. years after years it was the same thing.
"a shame isn't it? i have the power to kill anyone but i hold the curse of not saving you. i can end the world but what difference would it make? you went again without hearing what i had to say. back then...and now too." he hugged you closer. "i love you. i always have. i will love you for eternity, y/n"
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revasserium · 2 months
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know, know better
suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293
summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground
a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.
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001.
He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.
“Ah — excuse me!”
“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”
By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.
“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”
You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.
“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”
You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.
He forces himself to look away.
“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”
Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.
“… your name?”
“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”
He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.
“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.
002.
He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.
“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.
“You know each other?”
Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.
“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”
“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.
“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.
“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.
“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.
“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”
You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”
“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”
“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.
There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.
“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”
Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”
003.
You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.
“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **
Not yet, at least.
Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.
“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”
“S-Suo…kun?”
“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.
“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.
When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —
“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.
“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”
He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.
“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”
004.
“Happy Birthday!”
“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.
Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.
Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.
“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.
“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.
“You don’t have’ta single it out!”
Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.
“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”
“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.
“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”
They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.
“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.
“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.
“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”
You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.
“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.
“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.
“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.
The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.
Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.
“Know — better.”
A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.
“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”
You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.
“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”
In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.
“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”
You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.
“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”
Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”
You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.
“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”
“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.
“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.
“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.
You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.
But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.
005.
“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”
You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.
“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.
He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.
“Mm… sweet!”
You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.
“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”
Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.
“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”
You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.
“I didn’t do it just for you.”
“Oh?”
You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.
“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.
“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.
You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.
“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.
He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —
“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”
You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.
The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.
It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.
When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.
“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.
“Told you what?”
“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”
You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.
“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.
“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”
You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.
“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”
Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”
He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.
“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”
Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.
“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”
You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.
“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”
You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.
“And… if I don’t?”
Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.
“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”
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tired-teacher-blog · 8 months
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Kirishima hates the face he makes when he's about to orgasm, he obviously cannot see it for himself, true, but that's not the issue, it's actually the fact that -no matter how much he tries- he's never able to stop his eyes from rolling back into his skull as soon as he bursts his load, and for that split second when it happens, he's incapable of seeing your beautiful blissed out face, and it pisses him off.
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