#and it just smells absolutely foul
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raziraphale · 1 year ago
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people who don't live near the ocean are always like "oh it must be so nice living near the ocean" and it is but they don't understand the terrible reality that some days the ocean will just smell really bad and you just have to deal with it
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mellowdarkness · 1 year ago
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I think I can't stand how a lot of people smell anymore
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rosenclaws · 2 months ago
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worst logan gets a taste of everything he's been missing and can't get enough.
warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, pussy eating, overstimulation, fingering, desperate logan
You never could have predicted this is how Logan would be. The “worst” Logan as they called him, was nothing but foul mouthed, angry, and drunk. At least he was when you met him. You never would have thought he could be this desperate, this needy. Craving touch he had missed for so many years.
“Logan,” You sigh as you tilt your head back.
You're laying in his bed, hands gripping at his pillows. He has you pinned to the bed. He couldn't hold back his crazy strength if he tried. He was too far gone. His head buried in your thighs. Legs pushed apart by his wide shoulders, a dull ache in your thighs as he stretches them a little more.
"Fuck you're hot." Logan mumbles against your thigh.
For the last...who fucking knows how long anymore, he's been feasting. His tongue lazily lapping at your cunt. No matter how much he drinks he just can't get enough. His hands lay on your stomach, pinning you down from squirming.
This is his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your hips buck as his tongue traces your poor, sore clit. His beard brushing up against it. Your eyes widen as he growls, actually growls.
"Come on baby, be nice and let me eat your pussy." You moan loudly as he dives back in. You watch his back muscles move as he gets up on his knees, pushing your thighs apart as he buries his tongue inside of you. You're too wrapped up in pleasure to feel his fingers drift down.
"Nice and wet for me." Logan says in awe as he slips two fingers in with ease.
"Fuck!" You hiss as you try to move your hips.
He's overloading your senses. His hands, his tongue, even the fucking pillows smell like him. He's invading every little bit of your mind. Logan tightens his grip on you, pulling you closer to his face if that was even possible.
"Just a little more baby, please I need to taste you." Your hands reach for his wrist. Digging your nails deep into his skin.
"Perfect, fuck your perfect." He stands a little taller on his knees as he starts to piston his fingers harder. Absolutely obscene noises fill the room as he laps up every drop that spills from your pussy. His other thumb puts pressure on your clit, moving back and forth in a tight but brutal pace.
"Logan please-oh fuck- I can't!" His eyes are blown wide with lust as he stares at your face. Taking joy in watching you fight the pleasure he's giving you. He lifts his face and licks his lips. Messy beard and wet lips.
"Come for me one more time." He purrs.
“Just let that pretty head of yours stop thinking.” He kisses down your legs. He purrs as you reach and grab his hair.
“That’s it baby,” Your mind melts as you let go of any thought as Logan brings you over the edge. He takes his fingers out, licking them clean before dipping back down to work you through your orgasm.
His arms wrapping around you waist as you squirm and shake below him. Logan coos sweet nothings as he kisses along your body. Your grip on his sheets loosen as your body shakes. Nothing but pure, blissful pleasure fills your body but so does exhaustion. You gasp loudly as you feel Logan’s tongue lick up your cunt again.
“Just a little more please baby, please.” He begs desperately. “Just a little longer,” You lay your head back onto the pillows, a smile on your face as you nod your head.
“Fuck you’re perfect,” He purrs, a soft look in his eyes as he dives back down into your cunt.
“My perfect girl.”
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vauxxy · 10 months ago
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SETTLE DOWN!
luke castellan x reader
★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”
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ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.
WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol
A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3
WC - 3.7k words
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it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.
maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.
this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.
it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.
curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.
you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.
it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.
truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.
whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.
after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.
“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.
you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.
luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”
you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.
“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.
luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”
“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.
luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.
luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?
a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.
luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.
you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.
your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.
you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.
things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.
“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.
luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.
“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”
luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.
as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.
if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.
maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.
in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.
for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.
you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.
“are you okay luke?”
“i heard you were in a coma!”
“we thought you were a goner,”
luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.
with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.
he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.
but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.
2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.
you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.
“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.
luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.
you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”
luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”
you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.
“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.
“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.
that was the moment when you realised something.
you can play dirty.
not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.
you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.
“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.
he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.
you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.
luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.
obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.
but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.
luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.
“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.
“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”
luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.
he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”
you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.
he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.
“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.
“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.
luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.
you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.
“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.
he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.
“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.
the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?
why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?
you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.
luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.
you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.
“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.
“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.
luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.
“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.
you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.
his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.
after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.
“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.
luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.
“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.
you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.
the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.
“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.
“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.
“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.
you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.
needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?
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lymtw · 3 months ago
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Ex Bf Toji
Yes, you and Toji used to live together, but falling out, splitting up, breaking up, and any other phrase used to signify the separation of two lovers, typically means no contact, for however long. Toji did the moving and you stayed where you were for however long it took to feel okay with not seeing him every day.
He didn't cheat. Toji is many things, but he is not a cheater. He saw no reason to, just like he sees no reason to forget you.
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He snuck three things of yours into his luggage, to really keep you with him, because you'll get them back at some point, anyway. He took one of your used shirts, an old photo of you and him, and a pair of your underwear. It'll take three days to get you back—he's sure of it. He won't give all of these things back to you in one go, nor will the three days be consecutive. He's smarter than that. They'll be spaced out as he sees fit. When you least expect it, he'll call or text you to let you know about something that he "accidentally" brought with him.
Truthfully, he felt like an old, abandoned dog, the first few weeks that he spent apart from you. He constantly checked his phone, hoping to receive messages from you. He knew it was delusional for him to expect you to text and call, yet he still waited. He moped around his motel room, unsure of what to do, because you were the one who usually planned everything. You were the one who pulled him along with you everywhere, hand in hand. He never lacked excitement or interest around you and he felt safe, but two months later, as he sits on the bed in the same room with the most unnecessary and foul patterns, there's a gross feeling in his gut. Things are too quiet and he absolutely hates it. The silence gives him headaches sometimes and he devastatingly misses your chaos in those moments. He's stuck thinking about you, alone. He doesn't even feel like leaving his room to buy beer to make him feel less or enhance his emotions—whichever comes first.
You know he got it bad for you, when he preferred to use your underwear over and over to get himself off then let some other girl touch him. A third month passed and he still longed for your touch so damn much. He felt like a horny teenager with the way he treasured the garment he stole from you and touched himself to pictures and videos on his phone. Pictures and videos of you. Dirty ones that you would send him through messages, followed by innocent hearts and winky faces, as well as his own personal collection of ones he took.
He misses your smell, your taste—god, you were everything. How could things get so bad that you ended up apart from each other? He could really use your attention right about now. You don't even need to touch him, your company would suffice.
Your voice comes through the speaker of Toji's phone, his name moaned out shamelessly loud as you cum, your phone's camera capturing the whole thing for him. His heart drops to the depths of his stomach at the sound and he ruins the fabric of your pretty, blue panties, deep moans of your name flowing freely.
Toji is just as shameless as you in that video. He swipes off the old video of you and scrolls back down to the bottom of your conversation. It's a good thing you haven't blocked his number.
Hey, I accidentally brought these with me.
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I'm in my room if you wanna come get them.
He's the devil for keeping his cum stain out of the picture, because had it been in there... He's not sure you would have accepted to come get your missing pair of underwear.
I'm off in 20. Room 723, right?
You got it, doll.
You hate that you know where he's staying. You hate that you don't tell him to stop calling you doll, but most of all, you hate that temptation got the better of you. This will be the second time you go see him because he has something of yours.
The first time was a month ago, and it was about a shirt. One that you didn't even know you were missing until he texted you about it getting mixed with his stuff. You didn't reply because two months into your break up still felt too soon to be in contact with him, but he called. He called and kept calling until you answered, and every time he called, your heart would start racing at the sight of his name displayed on your screen.
Your first mistake was answering. His voice made you nervous, in a first date kind of way, the way it was so calm and steady while talking. It was like he was calling on his way home to you from a job. You did your best to be mature about it, but your nervousness shone through with every 'uh...' and 'sure, that should be fine' instead of 'yes'.
When you went to go see him, your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the sight of those dark, fern-colored eyes. You were so nervous and Toji picked up on it because of how you made it your job to speed up the process of retrieving your shirt.
He invited you into his room and your second mistake was accepting his invite. You felt strange being alone with him again. Anxious? No. Uncomfortable? Not that, either. More like homesick.
Toji didn't make it any easier with the gaze he had set on you. He observed your face—your eyes, your nose, your lips. He couldn't stop himself from continuing down the path to your body. Your neck, your chest, your waist, your hips—all things he wanted to put his hands on. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he could feel his heart thrashing in his chest. Having you so close was a rush. His adrenaline skyrocketed every time you looked into his eyes. He couldn't focus. He felt jittery. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. With a final stuttered breath, he reached for you, and pulled you into him for a kiss. An aggressive one, that left you breathless and conveyed just how badly he needed you.
You didn't know what was going on, but the feeling was far from unfamiliar. The feelings brought on by this spontaneous gesture, you've felt them more times than you can remember, each time so special. It's the reason for why you struggled to push him away. You struggled to maintain the boundaries that worked to prevent this very thing from happening. You were long gone the moment he put his hands on you— the moment he spun you towards his bed and laid you down. It was selfish on both ends. You were both lonely and touch deprived. It shouldn't have gone further than kissing and some over the clothes wandering of hands, but there was a clear deficit of self control, and because of it, your bodies familiarized themselves with one another, again.
You're now standing outside his door, there to pick up an old pair of underwear that you could have just asked him to throw out. You couldn't lie, part of you wanted to see him, just to make sure he's doing alright since the last time you were there. It's been a little over a month since then. Maybe he has a new girlfriend. Even if he doesn't, you don't want the situation to be misread. You're not together anymore and there's no chance of a reconciliation any time soon. It's just not meant to be, for now.
Toji opens the door and the butterflies start their fluttering in your guts all over again. You don't want to listen to them or your racing heart or the sudden throb you feel between your legs, but he's shirtless.
You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from drooling and remember that you're there for one thing only, and it's not for another fuck with your ex.
"You sure you still want them?" Toji asks, when the silence gets to be too much. He unfolds the blue material to reveal the creamy substance that litters the gusset.
"Uh... yeah, sure." You feel your face grow warm. "They'll be good again after a wash." You take them out of his hands and fold them back up before putting them in your bag.
He leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. He's not being subtle, if he's even trying to be.
"I was thinking of you," he says, once again breaking the loud silence. "You know, when I got them dirty." He nods towards your bag.
"Oh. That's..." you stop mid sentence, unable to find a way to end it. "It's fine."
"Wanna come in? You hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"
"None of that. I should get going anyway. Still need to get groceries for the week." You do your best to avoid letting your eyes trail down his body and hope that he doesn't insist. It'll be so hard not to give in.
"I'm sure you have enough to last until tomorrow. One more day without a fully stocked fridge couldn't hurt."
You sigh. Why does he always have to make it so difficult to turn him down?
"A glass of water would be nice."
He hums, satisfied by your response. He takes a few steps into his room, allowing you to walk in. The second you shut the door, he's right behind you, his front flush against your back, pinning you to the door. He bombards you with his touch.
"Knew you'd come, mama. Fuck, I missed you." He's kissing your neck, pulling up your shirt to feel your soft skin beneath his rough palms.
"T-Toji, what are you doing? I'm not here for this." He ignores you and keeps kissing your skin. "We can't do this, again. Last time was..." He's stretching the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder, where he presses more kisses. "I-It was the last time. We can't."
"We can," he counters, sliding his hand down the front of your pants and into your underwear. "I miss you, baby. Don't you miss me?" He purrs into your cheek.
A sharp gasp leaves you with a brush of his fingertips against your clit. Your hands go to the door to keep you stable.
"I'm not fucking anyone else. Are you?" He asks, watching your reactions to the languid motion of his fingers against your clit.
"Mm-mm," you hum, eyes shut as you shake your head against the door.
"Say it," he mutters, into your ear, pressing his lips against the spot beneath it. His free hand rides up your torso, going up towards your chest. It goes beneath your bra to grope at your breasts.
"Fuck, Toji... No, I'm not sleeping around."
"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad."
"You were an asshole," you say, your voice low. "I shouldn't even be l-letting you touch me." You feel like you're crumbling. You're trapped between him and the door, as well as stuck between pleasure and rationality.
"You know i'm sorry, and you're an angel for letting me touch you after so long. Don't run off so fast like you did last time." His lips go back to devouring the skin of your neck, littering it with marks that will make you think of this moment when you look in a mirror.
"F-Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Gonna-"
Your legs go wobbly and you press your hands more firmly against the door to try and hold yourself up. Toji's arm tightens around you, supporting you as he works you through the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans are heaven sent. So sweet and entirely dedicated to him.
"Come on," he mumbles, pulling you up straight, onto your unsteady legs. He turns you around so that he can hoist you up by the backs of your thighs, and as if on instinct, you wrap around him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your legs around his waist. It's so strange to feel his warm, bare skin against you, again. Your face is buried into the crook of his neck, like when he would pick your sleeping body up from the couch and carry you to bed.
He sets you down and pulls your shoes off, throwing them somewhere in the room, carelessly. With impatient breaths, he's back on you again, kissing you, and feeling up the body he grew accustomed to holding, but was now deprived of.
"Fuck." He pauses. "Take it all off, baby." He presses chaste kisses onto your lips as he pushes your shirt up, further directing you to undress yourself.
You feel ridiculous for having followed his directions so unquestioningly, but there you are, naked for his eyes, hands, and mouth.
"What are you doing?" Toji asks, confused at the sight of you on your stomach, your face buried in the pillow.
You turn your head to the side, to not muffle your words. "I don't wanna look at you."
"Why's that?" He traces your spine with his fingers, lidded eyes following the invisible trail. "Don't tell me you're still feeling guilty over last time."
You shake your head, wordlessly. You have nothing simple and quick to respond with.
"I wanna look at your pretty face."
You shake your head, again, and he knows he's going to have to melt away your stubbornness. You're not like this. You know he doesn't fuck you like this, ever. It's the first unfamiliar thing to occur since you started talking and since you agreed to meet up and it doesn't sit well with him.
His hands start at your hips and ride up your waist, merging onto your back, going up towards your shoulder blades. He knows of your weakness for when he says things straight into your ear. He has confirmation of this from just a couple minutes ago, when he had you against the door. It brings out a range of emotions from you, but ultimately, it gets you to mellow down a little.
"Let me love on you properly, mama," he starts. Your heart races at the feeling of his breath against your ear. You're throbbing with every deep-voiced mumble and his weight on you again. "Wanna take care of you, pretty girl. Must be so tired after a long day, huh?"
You sigh, releasing some of the built up tension in your body and nod.
"Yeah... I know, doll. Let me make it better."
Just like old times. You miss those days when your schedules aligned and you got to meet at home once you both finished work. It was always a race to see who got there first, but there was never an actual winner when the first thing you would do was shower together. Toji went in before you every time to rinse off the nastier splotches that littered his skin and you joined in on his mark. All the weariness and tension melted away when the water ran down your bodies. These were moments where you were so in love with him. Time slowed down through pressurized squeezes of his rough hands on your weary, smaller muscles, and your softer hands on his more defined and prominent, yet, still aching ones. There were also those delirious, casual conversations that bounced between being so tired that you could sleep together through the rest of the day, but also being so hungry that you could eat a family pack dinner, together in one sitting.
That is why you don't want to look at him. All those memories will come back, again, at the sight of his handsome face. You miss him, too. Your love for him hasn't been completely disposed of, but there's a reason for why you're in his room and not your shared home. Your schedules were unaligned for too long. You barely ever saw each other. You only saw him for brief periods of time in the morning and at night and your days off didn't coincide with his. Date nights became a rarity. Maybe once every couple weeks, you would go out to a place with a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, so that you could get a few hours to remember that you still love each other. Suddenly, he has spare time and it's so hard to deny him when he wants to spend it with you.
"Baby, please," he says, following his words with a kiss to your temple. You let out a deep breath and take a second before you start wiggling under his weight. He scoots off of you and allows you to do what you need to do. Once you're on your back, he wastes no time crawling onto you, again, to begin his worshipping of you.
That warm feeling you used to get around him is slowly seeping back in with every kiss he plants on your face and your neck. The way his hands smoothly glide over your body strangely makes you think of more aggressive times, when he would be so impatient, handling you so swiftly, just wanting to mold his body into yours. The scratches and crescent indentations his blunt nails would leave on your skin from the intensity of it all—you can't forget them.
He nears your soft, warm, blank chest. It's not like he didn't trust your word, but now he has visual evidence of how you weren't lying about not sleeping around. If things hadn't fallen apart between you and him, your chest would be littered with his fading marks on it. You're long due for a round of semi-permanent kisses.
His lips mouth at your chest, wet kisses being spread all over it. You instinctively let one of your hands come up to the back of his head, your fingers coursing through the dark locks of hair. He tries not to react so desperately to the feeling, but your touch is addicting. He doesn't want you to stop. No one has touched him like this since you and it really shows. Between the endless contact of his lips on your skin, layered with soft sighs and the constant caressing of your body, you can tell he's just grateful for being able to have you like this, again.
"You miss my chest?" You ask, acknowledging the amount of time he's spent on the area. He's been leaving marks left and right, between your breasts, on them and beneath them, too.
"All of you, not just your chest," Toji responds, before latching his lips onto one of your nipples. Your other one is handled by his fingers until he gives it a turn in his mouth, his fingers going to the one he just released. He loves being able to feel how your chest puffs and dips with every breath, and how it stutters with the swirling of his tongue over your buds.
"Toji," you call, breathily. Your hand lowers to the nape of his neck, meeting the tips of his hair that graze it.
He releases your breast with a quiet pop, pressing one more kiss to the glistening peak before tending to your call of his name.
"I know, doll. Feeling sensitive?" You nod, in response and he cracks a grin. "It has been a while... and I don't blame you, but you don't answer the phone enough." His kisses start, again, down your body—starting between your breasts and traveling down your abdomen. His lips paint your stomach, unintentional heart resembling marks formed through short-lived stinging sensations. "Can't do this for you if you don't pick up the phone. Just for a few minutes," he purrs, kissing above your navel. His hands cup around your hips, his thumbs massaging the area while he trails his mouth even lower down your body. "And if you don't wanna hear my voice, just answer my messages, mama. It's so fucking simple to get me next to you."
You shudder when his breath fans over your pelvis. Goosebumps rise over your skin all over again and your heart drops when green, lust filled eyes hold your gaze, pinning you down. You squirm beneath his unwavering attention, losing the eye contact battle when his hand goes to your thigh. You see the faintest sign of a smug grin once his eyes refocus on your body.
"How'd you get this gnarly bruise?" He asks, lightly running his fingers over a purplish yellow splotch on the lower part of your outer thigh.
"I ran into the corner of a table. I was in a rush."
He hums, disapproving of your reason, but nonetheless leans forward to kiss it. It brings him back to when he would walk into a room right on time to catch you groaning in pain and flipping off the coffee table while muttering curses, after ramming your knee into the corner of it, or when you would open your mouth in a silent scream after knocking your elbow into something and hitting your funny bone. He really considered putting guards on all the corners in the house, because of the constant bruises he found on your pretty skin.
"You gotta be more careful, doll," he says, kissing the blemish once more before continuing up towards your inner thighs. "Can't have you wearing this pretty body down with so many bumps." His breath grazes the space between your thighs, again. His attention goes from your glistening cunt, to your unsteady chest, before landing on that needy expression on your face that makes his cock twitch.
"You look so pretty." He drags his fingertips through the wetness of your slit, watching the adorable way your stomach quivers at the contact. "So wet over the way I kiss you up," he says, hypnotized by the way your slick connects his fingers to you with every up and down gliding motion. "You're precious, ma. Look at that... You're drooling so much, already." He drags a knuckle through your slit.
"F-Fuck." You shudder beneath his teasing touch. "Please. Toji-" you cut yourself off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your throbbing clit and his middle finger slowly sinks into your slick hole. Your thighs twitch in Toji's hold, the pleasure intense with all the fresh stimulation offered by him.
"Sweet as ever," he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your now twitching hole, to suck your juices off. He watches your face contort as two fingers stretch you out, now. Whimpers and moans are released with every curl of his fingers and with his tongue going back to your clit, you can't help all the squirming you're doing. Toji knows your body as well as he knows his own. Those hips rolling against the mattress and your back arching is a sign of your quickly approaching release. The fact that it's happening so fast is endearing to him. You really haven't been touched in a while and he loves being the only one you've allowed to replenish your level of physical intimacy.
You don't even warn him when you cum. Your notice is a sharp gasp, followed by the sweetest moans he's ever heard. Your overload of wetness coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm. Toji watched through dark, lidded eyes, as your chest heaved and your brows pinched with pleasure. Your bitten up lips parted to release heavy breaths and whines of satisfaction. He stopped before the overstimulation could make its way to you, pulling his cum coated fingers out of you and lifting his mouth from your clit.
While he did enjoy being a little mean and overstimulating you back when you were a couple, he knew this was not a moment for that. He said he was going to love on you and he planned to follow through with that.
"Fuck." You sigh, extending your arms above your head, before stretching your body. You groan as your chest rises and your back arches before releasing the tension, a giggle homing into Toji's ears once you settle again. Within seconds, he's face to face with you again, his body invading the vacant space between your legs. His hands go to your wrists, crossing them above your head.
"What are you giggling about?" His nose is centimeters from bumping into yours.
You giggle even more at his proximity and the sly smirk that plays on his lips. "Mm... just came all over your fingers within like two minutes," you mumble.
"You did, huh?" He says, squeezing your wrists affectionately.
"Mhm," you hum.
"That still doesn't break the record," he adds.
"No... It doesn't." You say, through a laugh.
A tension-riddled silence follows, longing looks exchanged during the stillness of the moment. Toji uses his control to lean forward the rest of the way to kiss you. The kiss is soft and slow, despite the way he keeps your wrists pinned, a visual that shows your surrender to him.
He hums against your lips, breaking the lip lock with a quiet smack. "Can I put it in?" He asks, leaning back to see your response.
"Yeah, okay," you say, blushing, but nodding to double confirm.
He releases you so he can remove his boxers and finally release his aching cock from its confines. He's been hard this entire time, but your needs were put ahead of his because, like the last time, he initiated this.
Toji sighs, feeling his cock throb and twitch at the thought of being in your incomparably soft and warm walls, in just a few seconds. As he drags his tip along your slit, he can't help but think about how this would be the first time he has sex since you last let him touch you, a month ago. He might cum as quickly as you did, maybe even quicker.
He keeps a hand on your stomach, rubbing as an act of comfort, as his other hand guides his tip into your hole. He pushes in, keeping his focus on you as he slowly feeds his length into you.
"Fuck, doll. Doing so well. Almost there."
You never get used to the initial stretch. It's not unbearable and you know it's worth it, so you deal with the short amount of discomfort.
"Oh fuck, it's in," he says, mentally relieved that he didn't cum early. You both let out sighs.
After a couple minutes of getting comfortable and picking up a gentle pace, things were good. Quiet sounds of pleasure took over the room. This time isn't as aggressive as the time before. Last time, things happened in a flash. One moment you were just talking, the next you were being fucked incoherent, and before you knew it, you were getting dressed and leaving Toji's room with the most guilty feelings.
This wasn't that, at all. He wasn't slamming his hips into yours or pinching your waist between his hands. His thrusts were paced, like he wanted this to last a while, and he touched you with the gentleness of someone who, wholeheartedly, isn't over you. Someone who still holds an immense amount of love for you.
You're not faring any better, than him. You find yourself wanting to bring him closer. You truly want him all over you. The second you extend your arms towards Toji, he's leaning closer towards you so you can touch him. Your hands make contact with his shoulders and he gets immediate goosebumps. He's working to suppress the groan that's paired with the chills that run down his spine, when he looks at you from this proximity. You let your hands glide up to the nape of his neck and you pull him into you for a kiss. Your cunt flutters around him when his lips move against yours in synchrony, his hips continuing their languid pace. His kisses always leave you breathless, so you end up having to be the first to bail, when you can't compete with his lung capacity. He continues kissing your face, groans released into your cheek and jaw, while you gasp and whimper over his gentle precision.
"T-Toji... Toji- Fuck."
He hums into your neck, his lips brushing against it immediately after. "Miss you... so... fucking much," he pants. "Please..." his voice lowers, and his lips move towards your ear. "Please, baby."
His arms cage you in and you feel smothered by him, like you're drowning in him. He's all you know in this moment. His body, his voice, his touch, his smell. All you can do is feel as he thrusts into you, repeatedly reaching that part within you that renders you the most perfectly behaved angel for him. He can feel the way your chest jolts with every hitch of your breath. He can hear your stifled hiccups up close, as he murmurs needy words into your ear.
"You..." he pants, a subtle groan caught by your ears. "You heard me, right, pretty girl?" He presses a kiss to your earlobe, awaiting your response. You nod, a sultry hum being the only sound you manage to let out. You clench around him, briefly, but long enough for his hips to stutter. "Fuck..." he sighs, burying his face into your neck, again. His hips pick up their pace a little, luring a sharp gasp and a moan out of you. "I-I need you back with me. Miss you lots," he says, muffled by the delicate skin he nibbles on.
"I-I know. I know, Toji. You're not the only one."
"So fucking come back to me, already. What are you doing?"
"Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum," you blurt, writhing beneath him.
"Keep squeezing me like that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunts.
"T-Toji, please," you whimper, the sensation of your nearing orgasm growing stronger. "Toji," you cry out once more, before your wetness gushes out, coating his unrelenting cock.
"Shit," he hisses. He barely has time to watch you when he's on the verge of spewing into you with every clench of your velvety walls. A few seconds pass, and with stuttering hips, a tensed abdomen, and gritted out, breathy curses, he fills you up with his cum. Ragged breaths are released into the air, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. He pulls away from you, his eyes glued to you as you work on recomposing yourself.
You're lucent in his eyes. The layer of sweat that coats your neck brings attention to the harsh marks he left on your previously untraced skin. The prettiest blush remains on your face, and those slightly parted lips look so appetizing. The sight is hauntingly beautiful.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you tease, feeling him still silently watching you.
He snickers. "You're gonna let me take a picture of you like this?"
"Nope. I was kidding," you say, smiling as you sit up. Toji catches you eyeing your pile of clothes and speaks up before you start reaching for it.
"Can you not get dressed, yet? Stay a little while, yeah?"
Your heart drops at the question. You tell yourself over and over that you won't be spending the night with him, in an attempt to convince yourself that after the worst that can be done with an ex has already been done, this is nothing to worry about. What's another hour spent lying next to him in his bed?
You thought that's all you would be doing together, but then you ended up showering together. His attempt to help you get cleaned up made you crave another round, which he happily indulged in. After that was when you finally lied in bed together and you really didn't want to leave by the end of it all. It was already nighttime and you had gotten so comfortable, almost forgetting that you weren't home with him. Everything smelled like Toji, even you. He kept you in his arms as you discussed the future of things between you two. A weight was lifted off his shoulders when you implied that there's still a chance.
You did decide to drive home that night and when you got there, you sat in your car, just thinking about what happened, for way too long.
The third and final day came some weeks later. You got better at responding to Toji's messages and his phone calls. Things seemed like they were rekindling between you two.
Hey, can you come see me today?
I'm not in the mood for sex, if that's what you want me there for.
You know that's not the only reason I want you. Come over.
I won't touch you if you don't want me to.
Say something.
Respond.
Oh so you don't want me to get there safe? I'm. DRIVING.
Fuck, doll. Scaring me for nothing. Drive safe.
On the drive to his room, you thought about the conversations you've had with Toji on the phone, these past weeks. Some were short and straight to the point, while others didn't allow you to put your phone down for more than three minutes. His indirectness was usually the cause of longer conversations. He didn't want to seem overbearing, so instead of saying he missed you, he would ask if you had eaten. Instead of saying he missed spending leisurely time with you, he would let you know that that one cheesy movie you like is playing on one of the TV channels.
It was sweet until nighttime came and the messages started straying from innocent longing. Conversations where he was telling you about how much he missed sleeping next to you, turned into him saying that he couldn't sleep because he wasn't holding your chest and smelling your hair. Minutes later when your phone rang, you panicked. You wanted to hear his voice, but you knew better than to try and hold an innocent conversation with him when the messages that preceded the call weren't innocent. You let the phone ring for a few seconds, but the second you heard him, you felt so many things. His voice was so deep and he sounded tired and your heart was beating way too fast. You were feeling things that contradicted everything that made you hesitant to answer his call. With every word he spoke, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts that made the space between your legs viciously throb. Maybe you were glad he was feeling this way from the start, because his voice, his words, and the sounds he made alike, all ended up getting you there.
Muscle memory got you to Toji. You were zoned out the entire time, remembering those texts between you and him, that had you giggling to yourself like when you first started dating. You were in shock when you turned into the parking lot, realizing that your mind was so occupied with Toji, that the drive seemed shorter. You walked right up to the door with the, now familiar, bold 723 on it. A few seconds went by before the door opened. Toji held the door open for you shutting it when you made it into his room.
The first thing you noticed was that he had tidied up quite a bit. It almost seemed like he had just arrived to the room, no clothes on the floor or empty food containers on the counters, but his bed wasn't made and his drawers had unfolded clothes hanging out of them. He's been like this since you lived together. It's just a habit that refuses to die.
"You made a copy of this photo?" You ask, picking up the picture frame that rests on his nightstand. You both looked annoyed in the picture. The photographer kept pestering you to get your picture taken on your date and you had politely declined so many times, but he kept insisting, so you and Toji decided to just get it over with. The photographer said 'smile', and he laughed nervously when you both kept a straight face. He gave up and snapped the picture like that.
"Nah, that's the original. It followed me here, like your clothes."
You snicker, eyes still focused on the way Toji put his arm around you in the picture. "Clothes seem a little more reasonable to haul along by accident, but this was in a box I keep hidden on the top shelf of the closet."
"It's not really hidden if I found it so easily."
"People who don't snoop around wouldn't find it as quickly."
His hands go to his pockets. The urge he feels to hug you from behind to look at the picture with you, is heavy. "It's not snooping if we used to share the closet. When I was packing my stuff, I tried not to leave anything behind, so of course I was gonna check every crevice of the house."
You put the picture down and turned to look at him.
"That was pretty selfish of you. Taking my things, but not leaving a scrap of yours behind."
"Yeah? That was selfish of me?" He grins. "You wanted me to leave something behind?"
"At least a button or... I don't know, one of your sweaters."
"A button or a sweater." He hums like he's in thought. "That's a big jump, doll." He sits down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, a small lump of his blanket flattened by his weight.
"We made a big jump, Toji. One minute we were doing stupid shit like that." Your hand aims towards the picture of you and him. "The next..." you take a deep breath and your brows pinch slightly. You don't want to get emotional. Just thinking about crying in front of him makes you anxious.
His eyes soften, slightly. The mood has shifted and you're tense. It's not how he thought this would go, but he's going to try and make it better anyway. This is it. You have to reconcile by the end of the day.
He pats the spot next to him on the bed, successfully bringing you closer, even if you were off from where he wanted you.
"What we did was hard," you start, again. "You think I didn't miss you as soon as you left home? Or that I was living happily without you, when I didn't answer your messages or calls?" You shake your head. You're trying to hold back your more distracting emotions, but your eyes are starting to feel watery. "No. My head hurt for so long, I didn't want to see anybody, and the worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking of you. It was the epitome of a crushing break up... and I needed you, but I wasn't sure if you would be around. It's what tore us apart in the first place."
Silence fills the room. You feel dumb for spilling your heart out like that. You fold your hands in your lap and hope Toji has something to say in response to your word vomit. Anything, at this point, to slaughter the increasingly, discomforting stillness in the room that is making you want to cry even more.
"I didn't know you missed me, 'til you started meeting me here." He turns his head to look at you. You're still looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your folded hands.
"Yeah, that's not something you say to someone who just became your ex. It would have made things harder on us."
There's another gap of silence while Toji calculates his words. Watching you continue your anxious mannerisms always made him nervous before. It's no different now.
"What if I said I have time for you, now?" He keeps his eyes on you, hoping to see a glint of light in your expression. "Things can go back to the way they were before."
"That sounds good and all, but will things stay that way when we start getting comfortable again? Say... a month from now?" He immediately nods in response. "How about three months from now? My days off are always gonna be the same, and yours-"
"I'll mute Shiu on your days off. No jobs on those days."
You look at him, unfolding your hands. You're not as nervous anymore, now that the talking is back and forth. "You always make exceptions. You've done it before, Toji, and I just don't want to feel second to your work, again. It's the only thing I kept myself out of when it came to you, because I know how... abnormal it is, and look where that got us."
"Listen, i'm serious about making time for you. I've been doing pretty good so far, don't you think?"
He has been. Otherwise you'd be spending your day off cleaning your place and figuring out what to make for your dinner for one. You were off the day before, too, and he called you halfway through the day, on his way back to his room.
"Yeah. I guess you are doing a lot better," you admit.
"Good enough to give it another go?"
You're the one who goes quiet this time, uncertainty coursing through your mind. You really want things to work, but it's scary. Words and these little check ins are all you can go off of, for now. You don't know how it'll be if you officially get back together.
You nod. "I think so. It's been a few months, now. Things do seem better."
He slowly released the breath he held in after asking the question. "Really? You mean that?"
"I do." You give him a soft smile that he feels he hasn't seen in so long. He can feel his heart accelerating, like a kid being returned their favorite toy after being grounded.
"Can you show me you mean it?"
"How?"
"You're sitting so far from me. Come closer," he says, patting his thigh.
"What?" You laugh. He has to be joking. You're literally two feet away from him.
"Come on. Sit with me."
He doesn't seem to be letting go of this, so you scoot even closer to him. With the assistance of his hands on your hips, he uses them as leverage to lift you onto his lap, to bring you as close to him as he can. He looks you straight in the eyes, his green ones so brilliant and warm, you would think he's about to profess his love for you for the first time.
"You got me. What is it, Toji?" You're blushing due to the gesture, a reaction that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
In one swift movement, his face is buried in your chest, his bulky arms lowered to wrap around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen at the spontaneity of the gesture, instantly softening when he starts talking.
"I felt like I was going insane, mama. I didn't wanna go." He pauses, the warm scent of your perfume working to calm him down. The back of your shirt is tightly wound around his hands. You can feel cool air against the slivers of exposed skin—a contrast to the warmth of his breath on your chest—but you hold him close. "Let me come home or stay here, just don't stray from me."
The mood shifted, again. He felt small and vulnerable, but he needed you to understand that he had feelings about leaving, too. Had things gone the way he planned them in his head, he wouldn't be uttering his sentiments into your chest. You would be watching a movie together, while cuddling and kissing, and overall, making up for the deep affection that was missed during this period of separation, but you have a strange way of making him want to be entirely honest with you.
You cover him up while he clears his mind. This is between you and him. Nothing else matters when it's Toji rambling on about how you've ruined solitary life for him. He can't do it anymore and you're entirely to blame, because you put him on to your hugs and kisses, and you tell him all the things he needs to hear and sleeping is entirely possible with you. He's addicted to you, and it's not hurting anyone, so he can't find a reason to give you up.
You sat in that position for a few minutes. Silence returned, but instead of it being awkward and uncomfortable, it was entirely welcomed. Toji was so comfortable. He could have fallen asleep like that, but you shifted in his lap and pulled him out of his idle state. He was entirely at ease when he lifted his gaze to look at you. Your expression was gentle on his eyes, unspoken forgiveness so clear.
"Come home, tomorrow. No, today. I was thinking about how you're not packed and you still have things scattered. I can help you get it all-"
He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, then another, and then one more. "Nah, i'll come back for my things, tomorrow. I just wanna go home with you, ma."
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avocado-writing · 3 months ago
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I'd like to think that Logan is the best weather detector. His bones are bow metal he just feels when it's about to rain or snow, whenever the fronts change.
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“It’s gonna rain.”
“What?” you ask, glancing up from your phone where you’ve been googling the best places to grab dinner. Logan stares at the sky, nostrils flaring just a bit, scenting the air like he’s an animal. 
It’s really cute. You have to resist the urge to boop his nose. You don’t imagine he’d be too thrilled at that, though, so you remain strong. 
“I can tell,” he mutters. Looking up, the sky seems bright and clear.
“Are you sure?”
“Never wrong about this stuff, bub. I can feel it in my bones.”
He says it with such seriousness that you can’t help but laugh. He turns to you and cocks an eyebrow, and you attempt to swallow your reaction. God, he’s so sexy, you don’t know how you can stand it. 
“Okay, well, weather-boy, I’m not too worried. You still wanna go out and eat or what?”
“Sure,” he says in that slightly smug manner where he knows he’ll win out in the end. 
Two and a half hours later, well-fed and slightly wine drunk, you’re standing in the doorway of the restaurant, watching the downpour as you unsuccessfully try to hail a taxi. 
“Don’t say a word, Howlett,” you harrumph, but his self-satisfied grin is worth a thousand of them.  God, it makes you want to slap it off his face. You never would, of course… that is unless he asked you to very nicely. 
“Doesn’t look like any of those cabs are stopping,” he remarks, with an exaggerated sigh designed to annoy you. It’s no use. Looks like they’re all taken up by people who also fell foul of the weather… but they didn’t have their own personal forecast machine to warn them against being outside in the first place. 
You shiver. You wish you’d taken a coat. You feel really damn stupid right now, and it makes you ache a bit that Logan has to witness it. 
Suddenly you’re aware of a heavy warmth around your shoulders. You look up to where Logan’s taken off his leather jacket and wrapped it around you; it smells of cigar smoke and pine, and you bury yourself into it, enjoying the feeling of being totally engulfed in him. 
“Thanks,” you mutter shyly. The smile he gives you this time is sincere and affectionate. 
“C’mon, we’ll walk. It’s not that far back.”
“But you’ll get wet…!” you protest, feebly. Logan turns back to you and you take him in properly, all 6��2” of him in his jeans and far too tight white t-shirt.  Suddenly the image of him absolutely drenched appears in your mind like it was snipped from your dirtiest dream. The way the cotton would cling to his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination…
“Oh no, I’m sure you’d hate that,” he says with a smirk, as if he’s read your thoughts. He holds out a hand to you and you take it eagerly, giggling as he drags you into the rain. 
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shycoconutt · 2 months ago
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Life changed a lot after Nanami Kento came into it.
Nights alone in your apartment feasting on cup ramen with microwaved broccoli (for your health obviously), turned into homemade dinners under candlelight. The long ride to work in the back of an Uber turned into riding in the passenger seat of Nanami’s luxury car, hands intertwined over the middle console. Quick showers turned into long, steaming baths with essential oils. Winding down from a long day turned from nights out at the bar to nights in under the covers while he softly reads to you.
“Darling, hey, wake up,” you hear Nanami whisper in your ear as you feel your shoulders shake lightly. You groan in protest, not wanting to be broken away from the warmth and smell of him all around you.
“I know, I know,” he softly chuckles, “but we need to get ready for bed properly.”
You nuzzle into his side more and wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him slightly, you take one long, dramatic inhale of his scent in the crook of his neck, fluttering your eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses.
“What are you doing?,” he laughs, “It tickles!”
“Just taking some for the road,” you smile into his skin.
“You’re such a dork.”
With Nanami, everything always seems to be taken care of. There is no need to over-extend your brain power, because once a thought or worry passes through, you know it’s been meticulously mulled over by your other half.
Your appointments are scheduled and on the calendar. Your laundry is clean and neatly put away in the proper place. Your memories and photos are filed and categorized, with some of your favorites even framed and displayed in your home and offices. Your books, CDs and other media are sorted alphabetically in pristine condition.
“But wouldn’t it be cool if they were categorized by, I dunno, color? We could make a rainbow wall!” you suggest as you marvel at his work.
Nanami, who is currently kneeling on the floor putting the last of your books on the shelf, turns and gives you a disapproving glare, “Absolutely not. It would be a disservice to your collection.”
“A disservice to my collection?”
“What happens when a series contains books of all different colored covers? Am I supposed to just separate them?”
You blink.
“You’re right. I apologize for even suggesting something so foul.”
But, most importantly, over everything, your body, mind, and soul are finally at ease. Past anxieties rarely present themselves anymore, and, if they do, you never dwell. People say you’re glowing, and they aren’t wrong. Your skin is clear, your hair is shiny and smooth. Your favorite clothes fit a little better, and your shoes are always polished to look brand new.
“Nananmi Kento looks good on you, girl,” Shoko muses, watching you over her lunch in the breakroom.
You smirk, daring not to look across the table to conserve your blush, “Feels good too.”
“Gross!” 
You curl over in laughter as Shoko chucks a strawberry at your head.
All this and more, because Nanami cares, protects, cherishes, and respects you. He would never, ever in a million years try to hurt you in any way. He is honest and loyal, vowed by his duty to be a man. Ever since he was young, he put immense thought into its meaning, only to be confirmed by one look at you.
One look and he knew that you were the one he would spend the rest of his life with.
“I think I should take you out on a date, if you don’t mind of course,” Nanami stutters, gently pulling you aside after one of your meetings.
“You think we should date?” you question, head reeling.
“Yes,” he starts, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough and it’s time to move forward with our relationship.”
The disbelief you feel must be painted on your face because Nanami’s normally pale skin is flushed cherry red just looking at you.
“I mean, long term,” he’s babbling now, “I want to make you my wife. Well, I wanted you to be my wife from the beginning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but they always say the best relationships start from friendships, so I thought it would be best to take our time. Naturally, now is as good a time as any. We’re at good places in our careers, we already spend a lot of time together, our personalities mesh, and, I don’t mean to be coarse, but I think we’d look pretty good tog-"
Before your mind has a chance to catch up, you’re already cutting him off with a passionate kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down close to you. After a beat, you feel Nanami’s broad, warm hands grab hold around your waist, pulling you to him. 
His lips feel so soft, and more plush than you anticipated. You part yours slightly in an invitation, and he’s quick to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip. You reciprocate and smile when you feel the vibrations of a small moan escape him.
You break the kiss first.
“I’d marry you yesterday if I could, Kento.”
Where he ebbs, you flow. With the few traits he lacks, you flourish. In social settings, you pick up when he doesn’t have the bandwidth to keep going. You can read his mind from his body language alone. You've shown him how to aim for the ideal, even when his pragmatic nature leads the way. You’ve taught him to slow down, even when life is relentlessly shoving him along.
“Kento, are you- are you crying?” you question in shock.
It’s difficult to process the information in front of you. You’re not seeing things, right? That’s definitely a tear falling down his cheek. Quickly, you bring your thumb to his face, swiping it away.
Catching your wrist, he brings your pulse point to his lips, giving you a small kiss there.
Here, feet in the white sand of the island of Redang, under the dark, starry sky, Kento goes down to kneel before you.
Recognizing the gesture, your heart swells and all the air leaves your lungs. Both your hands immediately cover your mouth, and the burn of tears forming ignites behind your eyes.
Through the blur, you see him smile. 
Regaining composure over your senses, you remind yourself to take everything in. The way his honey-brown eyes reflect the lights in the distance, the way his open collar ruffles in the breeze, the appearance of the new freckles from the Malaysian sun that decorate his exposed chest, how his unstyled, blonde hair moves freely, how one of his hands takes both of your own, while the other holds out a breathtakingly beautiful solitaire diamond ring.
Your eyes take him all in and land back on his face, one that displays the most loving, adoring expression you’ve ever received. 
“When you came into my life, everything changed. I knew, from that point forward, I would dedicate my existence to ensuring your happiness. Nothing matters to me more than seeing you smile. It gives me purpose—fills the air in my lungs. I have never, and will never need anything more.”
You watch the tears cascade down his cheeks, mirroring your own.
“Please do me the honor of marrying me and making you my wife.”
One second passes, and you squeal, “Yes!”
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a/n: This was supposed to be smutty and turned into something fluffy. I can't help it! I just adore him so much. also, how do we feel about this format? I've never done something like this before!
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konigsblog · 5 months ago
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obsessive jealous ex könig? :3
this is calling my name, sweet anon... (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠`⁠*⁠)
TW: HINTS AT NON-CON AND KIDNAPPING AT THE END. MDNI 18+
PHOTO CREDIT: @GLUTR_R ON X/🐦
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Ex-boyfriend-König is weirdly obsessive and stalkerish, even after your breakup.
You broke up with him because of his creepiness and how overly protective he was. A part of you hoped he'd finally mature at some point, but König's presence always lingered, no matter how many times you pleaded with him to leave you be. Seeing his tear-stained face look back at you broke your heart, but you knew that this was for the better.
Although, König can smell another man's presence, the smell of tobacco lingering on your skin when he got close to you. You didn't smoke, or at least, he wasn't aware that you did. Only when he saw you on the streets with another man, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, did he realise that you'd finally moved on - that you weren't just playing hard to get.
The horrific sight absolutely tore König apart. You noticed that he wasn't lingering around often and finally felt free from his desperate gaze. Meanwhile, König was sitting there in his apartment, falling into a depressive slump. He weeped and wailed every single day, gazing over at his shrine, the used and crusted panties he'd use for masturbation, along with other things he'd collected, like a necklace or your hair. König spent hours fantasising about you, pretending you two were together again. He tried to soothe and comfort himself, to no avail. Only you managed to calm König down, and now, here he was, finally having to be independent after leaning on your shoulder for years.
Not for long though. Soon enough, he'd have you back where you belong, in bed with him, your legs thrown over his broad shoulders, hitting places that useless bastard would never hit, whether you wanted it or not. He'd stain your skin with his scent, replacing that foul smell of another male's touch.
Only König was allowed to have you, only he was allowed to love you.
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tetsuskei · 8 months ago
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dew mornings and the bond of eternity – tartaglia [nsfw]
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synopsis: your angel of a boyfriend makes sure that you know just how well loved you are
notes: for my favorite harbinger, idk what this is but breaking my fic virginity for him with this :]
warnings: fem!reader, reader is insecure, russian pet names, mating press, childe has a foul mouth, biting and marking, slight possession, praise, childe is called by his real name, slight oral fixation, implied oral (female receiving), he is extremely lovesick
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you never learned to what extent someone could go when being attentive and observant until you met your boyfriend.
you hate how ajax is able to notice the slightest changes in your mood. you would say he knows you like the back of his hand, but it’s something more than that. almost like the two of you are fused at the souls. bonded for eternity.
so in the dew morning hours when you’re just a little bit quieter, a little more somber as he makes you both breakfast on one of his rare days off, he’s able to notice right away.
he notices your eyes don’t quite catch his own as he jokes about some silly thing one of his siblings did weeks ago, how your smile falters instead of shining bright the way that he loves to see, how you pick at your fingers and gnaw on your lip in thought.
“ptichka?” he hovers over you, taking your face in his hands and pulling you from your thoughts. his cerulean eyes scan you thoroughly. “did you not sleep well?”
“it’s nothing, it was just a silly little dream.” you wave off, smiling weakly. not a lie, technically.
ajax clicks his tongue. stubbornly, he leans into you, the smell of pine and mint following him. “it can’t be silly if it has you upset like this and you’re losing sleep.”
there is no way of lying to ajax. you know this well. he’s a big brother to three siblings, and he’s too good of a detective to be deceived. but that’s to be expected of a harbinger.
after a long, apprehensive pause, you sigh.
“…i had a dream that you cheated on me.” you confess, lowering your gaze to the floor. “and that you left me for someone better.”
it’s stupid. absolutely and utterly ridiculous. ajax has shown you enough love to spill over into your next life. and the next one after that. you could die and come back a thousand times, and there’d still be traces of him left on you. so to tell him this brings you great shame.
the question is, what caused the dream? guilt? shame? maybe you feel he does so much for you, that you’re lacking as a partner. that you could do better.
you wait silently for him to yell, for some sort of outburst to come. but you’re only met with surprise when you feel his hand on your chin.
“can you please look at me?” his voice is soft, and eyes softer as he finally is able to make eye contact with you. he’s so gentle. warm. he only looks at you with love and patience. “thank you, lisichka.”
“i may not have done anything wrong, and i would never cheat—“ he continues with a stern expression, “but i still need you to understand where my feelings lie with you.”
you start to shake your head, “i already know, ‘jax, you have never made me feel like i need to doubt you. i know how much you love me. i promise. i have no idea why i had the dream…but it just made me sad when i woke up.”
you don’t mean to lie about your hidden insecurities, but it’s not a conversation you want to have at the moment. you’d rather just enjoy the time you have currently with your boyfriend peacefully.
luckily, ajax overlooks your fib. he hums, kissing your temple, “how about after we eat, i run us a bath? and we do one of those face masks that you like? something to decompress.”
and for the first time today you smile and agree.
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unfortunately it appears ajax is taking your earlier sentiments much more seriously than you thought.
as all dreams and nightmares are short term memory, you long forgot about what it was that made you upset, back to your usual self after the bath.
ajax swaddled you up in a clean towel, and just like he said, did face masks with you. it always makes you giggle seeing your boyfriend using one of your spa headbands to push his hair back. soon both your faces were shiny and clean. refreshed and replenished, you felt brand new.
but little did you know you were now in the jaws of a shark.
you didn’t make it to the bedroom. well, you did, but you didn’t pick up on the ginger’s ulterior motive the minute he kissed your cheek as you sat on the bathroom counter. he carried you to the bedroom, and that’s where it all fell apart.
“‘j-jax—“ you hiccup, gripping tightly onto his bicep. your figure is trembling against his, skin damp with sweat and glued impossibly closer to his.
so much for the bath.
“s-slow down…”
your boyfriend has been at it for awhile now, pummeling your poor insides with his fat cock over and over. the room reeks with the smell of sex, wet sounds imprinted into your mind. you can never forget just how great he makes you feel.
“no,” he huffs, fingers digging into your hips, “you’re not leaving this bed until i’m sure of it.”
confusion resides in you. what exactly is ‘it’?
he’s already worshipped you plenty with just his fingers and tongue. but you don’t dare challenge the primal look in his eyes. he’s absolutely greedy, not even letting you move to take care of him in return in anyway.
you yelp once feeling your lover’s teeth nip into your skin. his tongue laves over the offended area before he kisses the skin.
“how could i find someone better, when there’s not a single person more beautiful or amazing than you?” he pants, pulling away to look at you. his thumb traces your cheek tenderly and his cobalt eyes are trained on your fucked out expression.
“especially when your pussy feels this good? that’s just a bonus.” he rambles, groaning. his hips knock into yours more harshly and you wail.
“you’d have to kill me to separate us.” he admits darkly, but something tells you that even death wouldn’t stop him.
“‘dun want that, want you forever.” you say, clinging impossibly tighter to him.
ajax coos, kissing your nose, “and you have me. because you’re enough. you always will be. you’re perfect.”
his answer satisfies you and you’re kissing him again, nearly having tears permeate at the ducts of your eyes.
he laughs, grinning against you mouth, “milaya, you’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
“i-i” your words still fail to completely return to you but you nod rapidly.
understanding, he taps your bottom lip.
“open,” he commands.
falling in line, ajax pushes his fingers in your mouth. you feel your face heat up from how you taste yourself on him.
“good girl,” he praises, “always so sweet for me, hmm?”
you’re drooling on him, nodding and humming around his fingers with a hazy look in your eyes.
there’s a certain light in his own eyes that only appears when he’s with you, and with the way he is looking at you with complete adoration, you feel absolutely special.
“oh, look how much you’re quivering, you’re almost there. come on.” your boyfriend studies your movements, fucking you with slower, deeper thrusts.
the breath from your lungs nearly escapes you, and you feel a burning feeling in your chest. you’re creaming so much on him that it’s impossible not to hear the lewd noises coming from between your legs.
every sound seems to drive the ginger crazier. “one more, just one more for me, angel and i’ll let you be.” he coaxes, fingers moving again.
“i’m…i’m tired.” you sniff.
“i know, but you look so pretty when you cum. just one more? pretty please? can’t get over how you look. so beautiful…”
his constant praise is enough to make you cum once more, so hard that it blinds you. your mouth falls open in silent awe.
ajax groans, watching you come undone and hissing at the way you’re clamping up on his cock. it should be a crime how good you feel, because he could ever get enough of it.
there’s only a moment before he remembers he still needs to cum, and then he’s pawing and begging.
“fuck, let me cum in you…please…” his face is buried in your neck and a small whimper escapes him once he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together.
he’s shivering and hot, and his cock is extremely sensitive. every drag of himself against your walls drives him insane. he’s dizzy, nearly delirious with how much he’s holding back.
“wanna fill you up so badly, please lisichka.” he continues, pressing searing kisses to your shoulder. “want you leaking with all of my cum…want all of it in you.”
you don’t think he’s looking at you while he babbles and pleads to breed you, and you shiver at how predatory he looks at your lower abdomen. you lock your legs tighter around him, ignoring the overstimulation creeping up in you.
“yes, ajax. please. w-want all your cum. want you to fill me up!” you whine, a sound that makes his heart and cock swell all at the same time.
your next words startle him even further.
“i love you.”
and he snaps.
“hah—ah, fuck!” ajax curses, hips stuttering in their pace. he groans loudly, feeling himself spill into you. there’s spots in his vision from how hard he’s cumming and he wonders if this is what celestia is.
you gasp, jerking when warmth spreads throughout all of you. you can feel the throbbing of your boyfriends cock and his heavy load.
coming down from both of your highs, the two of you laugh.
“you surprise me every time.” you tease quietly, eyeing a bite mark on your thigh.
the ginger looks bashful, hiding his face in your shoulder. “sorry…didn’t mean to be so rough…”
“if i wanted you to stop at anytime, i would’ve told you.” you reassure, petting his head.
he plants a kiss on your skin. “good. and for the record, i love you too.” he murmurs. “feel better?”
“i felt better after the delicious breakfast you made, but you took it a couple of steps further like you always do.” you giggle, leaning into his chest.
ajax grins, kissing the crown of your head, “well, i could tell something else was on your mind, but you weren’t telling me.”
“you know me way too well. it’s terrifying.”
he puffs his chest out, “what can i say? i can and will only provide the absolute best for you.”
“i don’t like leaving you alone for as long as i do…i will try to get them to let me take work closer to home.” he adds, playing with your fingers.
and the beam on your face is all worth it. “really?”
“really. i’m not around a lot for you to do things for me, and i get why you may feel that you need to be better. but i adore you just how you are. i’m sorry for not being more present.”
“it’s okay, i understand.” you hum, kissing his chin.
ajax hums with appreciation before leaning down and chasing your lips, hungrily wanting to taste you all over again.
his demanding presence has you melting into him as you mesh together, tongues locking to consume the taste of yourselves.
suddenly he’s dragging you by the hips to the edge of the bed.
“w-what are you—“
“m’not done with you. far from it.” you barely can form another question before ajax is sliding back into you. a crude squelch follows.
the harbinger kisses your bare ring finger. “say, i think we should elope. what do you think about starting a family?”
key: ptichka = ‘little bird’, lisichka = ‘little fox’, milaya = ‘my dear’
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roronoaswifey · 1 year ago
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BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO BABY DADDY ZORO.
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
ೃ⁀➷cw. sexual content, mentions of substance consumption, foul language, slight infidelity, both reader and zoro got their names tatted on them, y’all got a baby girl, this isn’t a smutty as i has planned for it to be ngl
ೃ⁀➷zuha’s note. forever pushing lora’s zoro and his bruk ass pickup truck agenda .
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, despite knowing you called things off with him weeks prior to finding out about your pregnancy, still knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you and his four year old daughter. shows up to your place on unexpected days, talking bout “wanted to see my babygirl, ‘s there an issue?”, crashes overnight on the couch because “the truck’s engine’s busted” or “‘s too dark outside and i left my glasses back home”. it’s terrible habits but he seems to always convince you to let him stay by the grin on your daughter’s chubby cheeks whenever she smells the scent of pancakes, eggs and bacon in the air with her favorite side of fresh fruit.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who always shows up to your daughter’s school events no matter the circumstance. he got work? somebody’ll take cover for his shift. truck broke down? nothin’ an uber won’t fix. he may arrive slightly late due to directional challenges, but he will still always show up. dressed in loose grey sweatpants with a white fitted tee and gold chain, he spots you dressed as classily as ever (bougie, he loved to call you) and notices your birkin bag saving a seat for him. he squeezes through the row and ignores the thirsty looks he receives, all in favour of sitting at your side, arm wrapped behind the seat of your chair and kisses your temple when you lean into his embrace.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who swings by every weekend to pick up his daughter for his turn of the rotation. if you ask him, he’d rather just stay over for the weekend and spend it with y’all three but he’s aware of your personal life outside of both him and your daughter, and complications (like whoever the fuck dropped you home that one friday night and gave you a cheek kiss when you’d asked him to stay a few hours with his baby) that can interfere in y’all’s relationship.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, on the occasions you let him spend the night over, always makes it up to you. it’s always the same routine—you tell him to crash on the couch and leave as soon as the rise of dawn awakens and yet he always ends up in the warmth of your bed, one leg propped up with two hands on your hips and fucks into you with precision. the sinful arch of your back and your whines as you beg him for more drive him insane, makes him miss you so much more than he’s willing to admit. though for now, he’s content in showing you how much he longs for you through plunging his dick deep in your guts and silencing your moans with his tongue down your throat (to his dismay, you make him pull out and finish on your back).
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who loves to spoil you and his baby. doesn’t have the highest paying income but no matter his salary, he’d be more than willing to spend 50% of it on the both of you. anything his daughter wants, she gets. he knows you can good and well afford for the both of you but he feels it’s his job to make sure you both live a soft life. no matter the reason—job promotion, birthdays, anniversaries, just for the fun of it— he’ll always want to gift you. he isn’t the best with words but he genuinely thanks the heavens that such a wonderful woman was able to bless him the greatest of gifts.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who freezes in shock the very first time his daughter asks him if he’s still in love with you. he forgets she was blessed with your intelligence, but such a pretty and chubby face smothered in chocolate syrup from her ice cream sundae on their weekly hangouts asking him if he still loves mommy the same way her classmate’s parents love each other makes him realize that these habits between you and him may badly affect y’all’s kid’s future. still, he sighs melancholy and lightly flicks her nose that scrunches up adorably, and while she huffs childishly a “papa!”, he tells himself he’s in long due of a conversation with you. “i do, princess, more than you could imagine.” he answers, though he isn’t sure if she heard him as she quickly stuffs her mouth full of the sugary dessert once more.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who, for the first time in years, decides to actively start dating again. he quickly regrets his decision when he’s on a dinner date, faintly listening to some broad babble about whatever it is she’s talking about but realizing he genuinely cannot see this girl— or any other girl—in his distant future. he’s too busy thinking about the slight twitch in your eye when he’d let you know he would be on a date and may arrive later to pick up his baby. you asked him where he met said girl, and he honestly told you his work friend had set him up on a date. you wished him good luck and to not spare any details when he comes back, but he felt the strain in your fake smile. you’re too easy to read, he decided a while ago, or maybe he’s mastered the art of your deception. regardless, he regrets going on this date and regrets even further when he lets her blow him off in his truck, especially since he never got to finish his load before dropping her off home.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who still invites you and his baby over to his parents’ place whenever there’s any family cookout. terra loves you and her granddaughter, always bombarding zoro with questions whenever he goes to visit. she showers you and her granddaughter with so much love, calls you her daughter despite you and zoro having broken up years ago. she checks on you occasionally, lets you know you’re always welcomed in her home despite everything. she spoils her only granddaughter with gifts and treats and love, takes her on walks and offers to even let her sleepover at her place for the weekends. zoro takes note of that offer, especially since y’all’s anniversary is approaching round the corner.
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 who brings you to the very first restaurant y’all had y’all first date at, years ago. on the roof patio of the five star restaurant, at the same table, he sees how your eyes sparkle in admiration at his efforts to recreate one of y’all’s most memorable moments in your past relationship. he’s dressed in the fanciest button up and slacks with dress shoes he owns, brings you bouquets of your favorite flowers and as always, pays for your meal. the date goes smoothly, as does most things you guys do, and he walks you back to his truck, hand in hand with the moonlight bouncing off the irises of your eyes. you catch him staring and he’s swears he’s fallen so deeply in love with you— or maybe he never truly stopped. it’s a scary but thrilling feeling, and from the heat rising on your cheeks and your shy gaze, he knows you feel the same. he can’t help but cup your face with one big hand and capture your lips in a sensual kiss, smiling when he feels you melt in his hold. you pull away shyly, nuzzling your nose into his and zoro swears on his mom he would run across the globe back and forth on a leg, go to hell and back, just to have you back in his graces.
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needed to get this out of my drafts 🗿.
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winterhawkkisses · 2 months ago
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"Hey," Clint says, out of nowhere, prompted by nothing, "I love you."
And Bucky - because he is, was, and always will be an asshole, right down to his bones - snorts. "You're gonna get your idiot heart broken," he says, and sure there's a sting of hurt in the inevitability of it, and a little more in the look on Clint's face, but that only sticks around for a second before he shrugs and pulls on one of his grins.
"Pretty sure that's what it's for."
They haven't even been doing this long. Sure, Bucky's context for what counts as a long damn time is pretty sideways, but it's only been a couple months since Clint had kissed him first; hell, Bucky's only just coming around to thinking of it as more than just post-mission madness.
Maybe he should have broken it off right then. That would've probably been the selfless thing to do. But hell, Bucky's earned a little selfish, and he likes the things that Clint's mouth can do. (And sure, maybe that includes his absolutely foul-mouthed trash talk when they're co-oping Stardew Valley, and the way it curls into a smile before he's even woken, first thing, but Bucky's not gonna think about that.)
So they don't talk about it. And somehow, nothing changes. Clint doesn't act like he's expecting anything, doesn't hint at any hurt, and the only thing that's different is the whiteboard stuck up next to his bed.
It has been _ days since Clint has had his idiot heart broken.
It's making Bucky kinda antsy, how high the number's got.
*
Bucky doesn't remember much, when he wakes up. It's the hushed quiet and medical smell of a hospital, but there's no regular beeping, which he's pretty sure means he's out of the woods. His chest feels like a crater, and his back is all kindsa bruised, and there're soft lips against his knuckles.
"Zero days, asshole," Clint grumbles, and Bucky suddenly gets a flash of the way he'd looked - resigned, determined - when the AIM goon had had that gun trained on him. The way everything in Bucky's body had protested, coiled in tight, made that impossible leap.
"Hey," he says, voice like gravel, "I love you."
Clint's mouth drops open. "You-?"
Bucky tugs Clint's hand up to rest on just the edge of the bandage that's wrapping his chest, holding him together after that bullet barely missed his heart.
"Pretty sure that's what it's for."
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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 months ago
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Being a melusine must be either sensory hell or sensory heaven
I grind my teeth (I have retainers so I chew on the plastic)
And I pick at my nails
And since melusines don’t have a seen mouth / they don’t open it when they talk. Idk if grinding my teeth. Will be as sensory pleasant
I need to be a little soft melusine just to feel my otter like fur and scream into Foul legacy.
I need to just scream into foul legacy’s floof
you can ABSOLUTELY scream into Foul Legacy's fur :D
everything is softer when you're Melusine, like you're viewing the world from inside a shiny, colorful bubble. your sense of smell, touch, and taste are all different, heightened, and it's quite overwhelming after you initially wake up in your new form. you do eventually get used to it, partially because Merusea is blissfully peaceful and softly lit. you have teeth to chomp and gnash, but your mitten-ish hands have no nails to speak of- a stick of coral will substitute alright, you find, a dead branch that you slowly pick and whittle away as the days go by. it's not the same, not really. but it'll do for the time being, especially on days where everything is overwhelming and you just need a single, simple task to focus on
luckily, Foul Legacy is always there if you need a moment of quiet and warmth. he tilts his head, watching you pace, before trilling softly and tapping the pearlescent floor with his claws. it's a question, see- a way to ask if he can hold you, to make sure you're alright with him touching you. if you nod he scoots over and ushers you into his lap, gently patting your back and holding your head against his fluff, soft and thick and free of tangles ever since you took to giving him regular brushings. you bury your face into the lilac mane, any screams and shouts of annoyance muffled, but you can feel the repressed laughter shaking in his chest as your little tail twitches and lashes much like how Legacy's wings flare up when he's angry
even the Creator gets overwhelmed and irritated sometimes!
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trumpkinhotboy · 4 months ago
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prank war | p.l
pairing. paul lahote x reader
type. requested <3
warnings. curse word?
word count. 1.4k
a/n. since i don't like writing summaries lmao, i think i will make it kind of official when writing requests that if you want to know what it will be about click the link to the request :) this was so fun to write this is def crack BAHA i hope you will enjoy mwah xx
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"Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Absolutely positive."
"But what if-"
"Em," you gave your friend a severe look. Emily always tended to be too kind, but this you could not let her sensitive nature make your plan fail. "Might I remind you that we are cruelly losing this battle of pranks? Jared, Embry, and Quil have been launching us. This is our time to make a stand."
"I know but… I still feel a little bit bad about it."
"Do you remember when they put confetti absolutely everywhere in the house? We had to clean that mess for weeks. I think there is still some confetti on my body in places where there shouldn't be."
Emily was a neat freak, she did not tolerate any mess. You knew how she hated that particular prank and how it would be an easy way to rile her up. You smiled when you saw her gaze suddenly turn very dark and resolute. Bulls eyes. Without further questioning, she joined you.
Your plan for retaliation was quite simple, but you knew it would hit your enemies right where it hurt. After a few internet searches, you settled on baking the most horrible and foul muffins known to the human realm. The boys were huge eaters so first, you knew they could never resist the temptation of a hot basket of muffins. Second, they were all known for their sensitive stomachs. It was a classic yet very effective prank. You looked like mad scientists incorporating literally any ingredients possible into the mixture giving it a strange color.
"I don't think it can get worse than that," declared Emily as you looked at the finished product.
You examined the bowl on the counter, feeling like you were missing an essential element. "Wait! There's one more thing we can add."
You went over to the pantry and proudly held up the bottle of extra spicy sauce the boys were keeping for special occasions, aka when they wanted to burn from the inside out.
Emily applauded your genius and watched excitedly as you dropped some in the mixture, then some more, and just a tiny bit more until you had poured at least one table cup of hot sauce into the bowl. If the original mixture didn't make them sick, this would for sure.
"This is a work of art Em, we can be proud of ourselves."
You high-fived and rapidly cooked the muffins before the boys returned from their run.
Your opponents were werewolves, with incredible sense of smell. So you knew you had to be smart about it. Especially since they knew a prank might fall upon them at any given moment. You had planned everything to a T. When returning home, Quil, Jared, and Embry were usually the ones who came in first, which you counted on as you didn't want to prank the rest of the pack. Emily had smartly accounted for the boys' suspicion and made sure to bake two safe-to-eat muffins from the batch so you could fool the three guys into eating.
You made sure to use food coloring to give the muffins a rich brown color and sprinkled cinnamon along with a few other herbs on the muffins to make sure they would smell mouth-watering. You cleared away any hint of your actions and did it so well that when the boys arrived, no one could ever think something was going on.
You welcomed them joyfully with your best angelic smiles. As expected, it didn't take them long to notice the muffins, Quil even going as far as reaching out a hunger-crazed hand towards the bowl.
"Wait," suddenly cut Embry with a suspicious look in your direction. He slapped his brother's hand away. "What's the special occasion?"
Like professional actresses, you and Emily looked at each other. "Since when do we need special occasions to bake muffins?"
You rolled your eyes when Embry bent down to take a big whiff from the basket, but still lost a relieved breath when he didn't seem to smell anything out of the ordinary.
"Why aren't you two eating any?" skeptically asked Jared.
"Because we ate so much filling we might puke but if it reassures you I don't mind taking a bite."
You reached your hand out for Emily to pick the safe muffins from the basket and prayed she didn't mix them up. You leveled your stare at the boys and took a huge bite.
When the cinnamony and chocolate flavors hit your tongue you sighed with relief, putting your reaction on account of the amazing taste. "Delicious as always."
Your performance seemed to reassure them but they didn't grab any yet. Anxiousness rose in your body, you needed to get them to eat before the others came in.
They were still hesitating when Paul barged in, quickly kissed you on the cheek, and grabbed a muffin.
"Paul wait-" "Gonna take a shower," he muffled between chewing.
You stare at the doorway through which he disappeared, astonished. It happened so fast. You couldn't have warned him or else the other three would have known something was up. You turned to look at Emily with panic in your eyes. Her face was blank, her hands gripping the counter. Both of you were paralyzed, what should you do? Were you taking it too far by letting your boyfriend eat the nasty mixture just so you wouldn't raise suspicions?
You stayed paralyzed in the dilemma when finally Embry, Quil, and Jared each grabbed a muffin as you and Emily stared in silence.
They had eaten a good half of it when suddenly you heard Paul screaming and cursing in the bathroom. Everybody looked in the direction of the sound when he stumbled in already wet from the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS IN THESE?"
Immediately, the three other boys looked at each other, then at you two. As if Paul's apparition had triggered the effect of the baked goods, sweat started dripping down their face, a disgusted rictus twisting their mouths.
They stared with horrified expressions. "What did you do?" asked Embry before he ran for the kitchen sink.
Even if you felt guilty Paul had been caught in the crossfire you couldn't help but feel a deep satisfaction as you stared at the three boys pushing each other and fumbling to get a sip of water. A sentiment clearly shared by your partner in crime when Emily said with an innocent smile. "What did we do? We baked you some yummy muffins of course. Isn't that right Y/n?"
"Why yes, we even added a few special ingredients to make sure you guys loved them." You added with a mischievous smile towards the three crying grown men still fighting for access to fresh water.
"That'll teach you right for putting confetti everywhere in MY house," finished Emily, leaning close to them.
They looked at her with what was sure to be fear in their eyes.
"I'm done I'm calling dibs on the bathroom sink," moaned Quil as he ran for the tiny room.
"I'm taking the hose outside!" cried out Jared.
Emily and you couldn't keep your cool from your devastating victory and started dancing around the kitchen, the grunts of pain in the house the most delicious melody to your ears. You were still laughing when you heard heavy steps enter the kitchen. Paul was standing in the doorway, still wet, still with a towel on but this time there was a half-drunk milk cartoon in his hands. A few droplets slid down his chest and the view might have even been appealing if the expression on his face wasn't so terrifying.
He took a step in your direction. "Baby I promise you weren't supposed to eat one of those. It was only for them. I'm so sorry!!"
"You could have warned me, tell me to stop,” he growled.
"But then they would have known. I'm so so sorry my love I promise I'll make you forgive me."
You kept walking back, hands up. Never a half-naked man had scared you this much.
"Oh, you will definitely pay for this." He dropped the milk on the table nearby. "And I think we will start by giving you a little swim in the cold sea."
"Paul it's freezing outside today!!" You protested with a panicked look towards the foggy forest.
"Should have thought about that before sweetheart.”
His lips curved in a diabolical smile as he leaped. You screeched and ran outside knowing damn well there was no way you could escape this.
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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years ago
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Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.
"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.
Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.
Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.
He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.
His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.
Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.
"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.
Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.
Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.
Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.
He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.
Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.
----
Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.
Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.
That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.
Back to that hero.
-----
Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.
Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.
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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months ago
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✧₊⁺ Be A Good Little Thing ⁺₊✧
You’re bound and helpless at his feet, the man you once looked up to now blowing smoke in your face, his lips dangerously close to yours… And that shiny knife of his that used to protect you now dragging up your shirt to expose those wondrous tits of yours. You wish you hated it, wish you could curse him, but the way your breath catches in your throat, the way your pussy tightens… Gods how your body betrays you every time ♡
✧˖°. Pairing: Absolute Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader
✧˖°. Content: NSFW - Knife Play - Zevlor Eats You Out Like A Starving Man - Tail Throat Fucking - Large Cock Stretching You
✧˖°. Notes: Thank you @cinnasalmon for talking with me about Zevlor puffing smoke at our pussy before eating us out so nicely xoxo I dedicate this to you my love ♡ ♡ ♡
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The way he drags the knife across your perky little nipples, ever so slightly pressing the tip of the knife into one of those cute hard buds of yours.
It causes you to gasp and whimper, a dust of pink spreading across your cheeks- the cold blade contrasting with the heat of your skin. He wonders how you’d react if he just gives those beautiful tits a small little slice, a thin line of blood trickling down your chest. Would you be scared? Would you cry his name out, as he licked away the droplets?
The smell of his cigar fills your nose, a thick cloud of smoke swirling around your head as he takes a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke seep through his nose and mouth, his fingers trailing across your cheeks before gripping your chin. You feel like a pretty little doll in his hands, and he likes that.
As he grips your chin he bends over and blows the smoke into your face, chuckling darkly as you cough and sputter, “You look so beautiful when you’re bound. All helpless, all mine...” He breathes, leaning closer to you, his nose brushing yours.
His hand moves down from your chin, his fingers gliding down that pretty body of yours. He lets his nails rake across your skin, watching the little red lines form across the smoothness of it until he reaches your thigh.
Zevlor pushes your legs apart, and he can smell you already. He grins as he watches how your juices coat your pussy lips… You try to close your legs, but he holds them open with ease, his gaze never leaving the apex of your thighs, as he slips a single finger into your pussy, “Such a wet little thing you are, hm? So filthy, and needy for a foul blood like me.” He chuckles, his tone mocking you.
He slips his finger out of your pussy, a low groan falling from his lips when he notices just how much of your wetness is coating his fingers. His tongue peeking out to lick at the pads of his fingers, “So sweet, too. Would be a shame not to savor it properly, yes? A shame to let such good taste go to waste, no?”
You watch as he takes a long drag from his cigar, the smoke swirling in his mouth before he exhales it slowly against your pussy. The mix of the smoky aroma and your sweet sweet honey fills his nostrils, creating a heady blend of flavors for the tiefling. Without hesitation, Zevlor dives in, eagerly eating you out, savoring the unique combination of his cigar smoke and your intoxicating taste. The contrast of the earthy smoke and your sweetness creates a decadent meal on his tongue, driving him to explore every inch of your pussy with his tongue.
He laps and curls his tongue within you, his fingers digging into your thighs, his nails pressing into your skin as he keeps you spread wide open. He wants nothing more than to devour you whole, his tongue pushing deep into your pussy, memorizing every inch of you, his nose brushing your clit as he does so.
He eats you like a starving man, moaning and growling as he does so, his hands slipping to your ass and squeezing the mounds tightly, his nails digging into the plumpness of your ass, sure to leave a mark on the delicate flesh.
It never takes him long to lose himself in his lust, his tielfing instincts kicking in to claim every inch of you including your womb and throat. And before you know it he has you on all fours, his cock stretching your raw pussy out, the length hitting your cervix with each thrust. Slamming into you at a brutal pace, his fingers pulling your hair, his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.
“Z-Zevlor, fuck! I-It’s s’so fh’at, g-gonna t-tear m-me in h-half, ahh! S-So big, hnng, a-ahh! S-Stop, I-I c-can't- Aha-“
His tail snakes around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your words as his hand comes to rest his knife just above where his tail is.
“Keep that mouth of yours quiet,” the spaded tip of his tail prods your mouth, forcing it past your lips, “be a good girl-“ without hesitating you begin to suckle on the tip obediently. The point almost pricking the roof of your mouth, making you flinch. You nod shakily, letting the tip of his tail slide deeper, until he can feel it pressing against the back of your throat… careful not to cut your insides with it. He doesn’t want to do any permanent damage.
You start to bob your head up and down the spaded tip, a string of saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth.
“That’s my girl, we don’t want the others to hear, do we?” He purrs, his hand holding the knife moving to rub at your clit, the sharpness of the blade dangerously close to it.
By the end of the night your body is coated in cuts and bruises, the pain almost numbing your senses as you lie on his bed roll, unable to move. The sheets under you soaked in a mixture of your cum and his. His cock buried inside of you, his hot cum flooding your womb, and the cigar that is hanging out of his mouth is almost burnt down to the butt… “To think an old soul like me could still make such a mess. Hah, and here I thought I was past my prime, what a treat you have been tonight.”
His hand comes to rest on your belly, rubbing small circles around the soft flesh, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his lips, “rest now. For tomorrow is a new day”
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kingkat12 · 3 months ago
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seven minutes in heaven (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: foul language, alcohol, book-accurate Roman lol, (and he is such a brat???)
summary: you really, really hate Roman Godfrey. but what you hate most, is that he doesn't notice you at all.
word count: 4,502
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8
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I didn't like Roman Godfrey— not one bit. 
Everything about that spoiled brat was infuriating. All from the way he walked around as though he owned the town, to the way that he'd get a kick out of throwing tater tots at people. Fucking child. The amount of times I'd sat at the bleachers and watched him throw it at the cheerleaders, specifically aiming right down their shirts, made my blood boil.
Roman Godfrey believed that the world was his, including the people living in it. That's exactly why he dared to take such liberties. 
I specifically hated the way he'd move his hair out of his green, green eyes, the look he'd give me after he tugged my hair in the hallway with a sneer, and his sadistic need to claim his conquests in the absolute weirdest ways known to man. If we are to believe Brooke Bluebell from the cheerleading team, he also had an affinity for poking girls with needles in public just for the sheer thrill of watching them squeal. Because who would tell him off, right? I wondered if he was familiar with the word 'no' at all.
After the needle-rumour spread, I made sure to keep a few meters between us at all times. There was no way in hell that he would get away with doing that to me, anyway. 
And I would've stayed as far away from Roman as possible, had it been up to me. Sadly, my best friend at school was his cousin— just my luck. Letha, like the rest of the girls at school, was quite fond of Roman; since she was the oldest of the two, she somehow couldn't see that he had grown past the age of five, treating him as though he could do no wrong.
And this was why Roman was always invited whenever we would have study sessions at Letha's place. He would splay himself out on the bed, stretching out his long limbs, watching us as we worked and he lazed away. 
God, how I hated him. I hated the way his hair was kissing his forehead when he laid like this in Letha's bed, the way he'd grin whenever he watched me erase a wrong answer, and the way his cologne would linger in my system several hours after he'd left.
Currently, we were supposed to be working on the half-year assignment everyone in our year had to do. Letha was sitting at her desk with her back turned to us as Roman and I sat on the bed, each with our own computer. My meter-rule to protect myself from any incoming needles was impossible to implement on Letha's tiny bed, and I let out a huff as Roman's knee touched mine. I prayed to every God in the universe that he didn't have a needle in his pockets somewhere— I was quite fond of my knees, and would very much like to keep them intact.
"Five hundred bucks," Roman tried, nudging me. "Do this assignment for me and it's yours."
I rolled my eyes, shifting further away from him on the bed. "Do your own shit," 
He proceeded to sneer, watching me with his big, green eyes. "Six hundred,"
"No,"
"Seven?"
"Suck it, Roman," I cracked my knuckles, doing my best to get back into the flow of writing the assignment. It was so damn hard to focus when Roman's incessant sighing continued, almost as though he was being forced to take his own life. 
"Help me, then," he mumbled, moving closer to me. His leg was almost on top of mine, now. "How did you answer question b?" Roman leaned over me, his head now obstructing my view of my screen. In a flash of pure instincts, I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of his hair that was tickling my nose. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what it was that smelled so good— him or the shampoo?
I got yanked out of my state when Roman pulled away, typing away on his own laptop, finally inspired. 
I couldn't help but sigh; I hated Roman. And I hated that he didn't notice me in the way I wanted him to. I hated the way he smiled, the way he'd so blatantly flirt with girls at any opportunity he'd get, and how my heart fluttered when he flirted with me once in a blue moon.
It only got worse when we were in chemistry class the next day, and Roman had caught me sitting all alone in the back. I wasn't sure what came over me and why I had allowed him to sit down next to me again— the last time had been an absolute catastrophe where he got the both of us kicked out for bickering too loudly, so I hoped it wouldn't be a repeat-situation. I really needed to make sure I was getting every drop of information out of class today, as we had a test coming up soon.
However, Roman was the absolute biggest distraction on earth. I knew this. He kept leaning over to draw crude drawings in my book, making me have to swat his hand away over and over; "Stop it!"
Roman huffed, leaning back against his chair with a bored expression on his face. "You're no fun," he whispered back. 
And this was when it hit me— maybe I wasn't fun? Did he really think that of me? 
... Maybe it was time to show him how fun I could be?
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
When Letha mentioned a party happening this weekend and the fact that Roman would be joining, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread— I knew what that would entail for him. He'd either disappear with a girl upstairs and/or get absolutely shitfaced, as always. And was I really going to put myself through seeing him disappear with someone else again just to prove I wasn't boring?
Yes— Yes, I was.
As I sipped my drink, I couldn't help but feel my hatred for Roman simmer and come to a boil— I hated how he had me doing the most ridiculous things known to man just to get a sliver of his attention. Why was a question I couldn't bring myself to answer. 
As I stood in the kitchen with Letha, I spotted Roman passing by the door, laughing with a friend of his. My heart thumped hard as I let out a shaky breath; "Letha, I have to tell you something,"
She turned to me, a beer in her hand. "Don't tell me you've killed someone again? I don't have the energy to drag another body out of my car today,"
"Ha-ha," I mumbled; had this been any other instance, I would've thought it was funny... but not right before I was about to tell her why I had come tonight. I dreaded it; I knew she'd disapprove. But just as I opened my mouth, ready to put my friendship on the line, I caught Roman backtracking and appearing in the door again.
"Girls!" He walked over, looking tipsy as ever. Up close like this, Roman towered over the both of us, and I had to look up an unusual amount to meet his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over! They're playing seven minutes in heaven downstairs, wanna join?"
Had this been any other night, I would've given him an immediate no— but tonight was different. Tonight, I was fun. Shrugging, I glanced over at Letha to check her reaction.
"That's so childish," Letha mumbled, sipping her beer. "I don't know, and I'm sure grumpy over here isn't too keen on that either—"
"No, I'm in!" My words came out like a panicked squeal which immediately made my cheeks burn. 
Roman seemed caught off guard by my reaction, but he eventually reached out to pat my shoulder, looking smug as ever. "There you go," he cooed, clearly teasing me. "Maybe you'll finally get laid or something!"
I was abruptly reminded of why I hated him so much in the first place. Swatting his hand off of me, I brushed my fingers over my shoulder where he had touched me, feeling a lingering burn. "If you think seven minutes is enough for everything that goes into sex, I think you need to lower that ego of yours,"
Letha bit back a smirk as Roman's lips parted in shock. Maybe the spoiled rich kid hadn't gotten a reality-check from his long list of women before? He eventually recovered from the diss, rolling his eyes; "Well, seven minutes with me can be more than enough. Need me to show you?"
Letha let out a loud snort, shuddering; "Ew, Roman! I've told you not to talk to my friends like that!"
As they turned to each other, bickering like siblings, I gripped the counter behind me with all my strength. I was almost compelled to agree, to say yes to letting him have a go, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself. After a few drinks, I knew I could get a little loose-lipped.
It didn't take long before we all made it downstairs, everyone spreading out on the couches and chairs scattered in the basement. Letha and I sat down on a few pillows on the floor, far away from Roman and his rumoured needles. 
I felt my throat go dry every time the bottle spun around, landing on random people from school who later went into the empty closet nearby. But my attention was elsewhere; I watched as Roman put his arm around the girl next to him, whispering something into her ear which made her laugh. It made me want to slam my head into the wall behind me— I would rather pass out and bleed out than witness him picking up another girl again. 
I swallowed hard as the people in the closet came back out and the bottle got spun again. The first person was picked; a girl with long, brown hair whom I remembered from history class; huge bitch. Holding my breath, I watched as the bottle got spun again— it eventually slowed down and pointed to Roman, which made the girl's friend group cheer as though they had won a million dollars. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest as Roman got up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. The girl he had just had his arm around wasn't as happy, to say the least.
This whole display was making me sick. I bit the inside of my cheek as Roman closed the door to the closet and the previous drinks in my system threatened to come up. Everything about this was making me sick. I got up, taking hurried steps to the nearest bathroom, planting myself on my knees in front of the toilet just in case.
I heard a few knocks on the door before Letha stepped in, looking worried. "I told you not to drink that vodka crap," she mumbled, locking the door before she sat down next to me on the floor.
I felt my tears press on as I grew further nauseous. "Don't mind me," I breathed. "I just need a minute." 
This only solidified my absolute and utter hate for Roman. Spoiled fucking brat— why did he have to make me feel this way? Why was my jealousy making me so sick and bitter?
Letha put her hand on my back in an attempt to soothe me; "Maybe I should drive you home?"
"No!" I said, fighting my gag reflex. "I need— I need to get out there again."
This only made Letha sigh, her hand now reaching for my hair to be ready. "You have a crush out there or something...? You know that you don't need this stupid game to get whichever guy you want, right?" 
I did my best to get up from the floor without immediately falling back down. Of course she didn't understand. 
"Seriously, hold on—" Letha grabbed my hand, holding me back from leaving the bathroom. Her eyes were just as green as Roman's, and up close like this, I could see all their similarities; the upward curve of their nose, the same full lips, and the exact same way of weaving their brows together in worry. "You don't need to do anything just because you want to prove Roman wrong," she said, squeezing my hand. "I know you came down here to make a point, but... do what's best for you, okay?"
"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at her hand. The seven minutes were almost up, and I wanted to see the look on that girl's face after she left the closet with Roman. I wanted to see the look of bliss in her eyes, the hint of red in her cheeks, and watch her inhale with soft, sharp breaths just like the rest of his girls always did. The best part of watching this, was imagining that the girl was me instead— that I was the one feeling euphoric, and not her. And on the other hand, the masochistic part of me wanted to feel my heart burn with jealousy and my chest tighten with the ache I had gotten so familiar with. "Let's go. Please."
My nausea dulled down as I sat back down on the floor, realizing Roman was back. Maybe it was good that I missed the moment they came out— maybe it was good for me to spare my psyche, just this once? As my eyes met Roman's across the room, I couldn't help but notice the dark satisfaction on display across his lips. It was almost as though he knew— or maybe it was the fact that I probably looked a little sick? Did he like the look of pain in my eyes? I was reminded of Brooke Bluebell and her needle story... how he liked imposing pain on girls he found to be vulnerable. The fucking needle thing would haunt me forever.
I barely noticed that the bottle had been spun again, and I was yanked out of my mind-storm when Letha nudged me. "You don't have to," she tried, nodding towards the bottle that was now pointing at me.
My eyes immediately moved from the bottle and straight to Roman, who seemed to grow further amused. There was no way in hell I would back down now— maybe this would change his outlook on me? I had to prove I was fun, after all. Shrugging, acting as though it was no big deal, I reached for the bottle, spinning it.
I couldn't help but ponder if someone up there in the sky was playing games with me when the bottle pointed at the one person I had hoped it would be.
The girl Roman had just been with protested; "What? That's against the rules! He can't go in two times in a row!—"
"Sure can," Roman shot in, watching my every movement like a hawk— something told me he was a little excited about this as well. He got up from the couch once more, walking up to me with confident strides, reaching out for my hand. 
As I looked up at him, breath short and choppy, I couldn't pry my eyes away from his. I had always imagined what it would be like to look up at Roman from this angle, to see the sheer look of satisfaction on his face as I— Oh no, my mind was wandering again, wasn't it? I did my best not to shiver as I accepted his hand, feeling our fingers intertwine as he smoothly got me up from the floor.
I didn't even dare to look at Letha in this moment, knowing how she probably felt about it, but I really didn't have time to dwell on it— and it didn't take long before Roman closed the closet door behind us, pulling me back into the moment.
We were quiet for a few seconds, the sounds of our breathing filling the closet— I didn't know what to say or do. The beating of my heart was so loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts, and the light in the small room was dim and warm, making it a rather disorienting experience. It didn't take long before I felt my back hit the wall, letting out a little wince; the alcohol was definitely doing wonders for my balance. 
Roman snorted at the sight, emitting a soft laugh; "Careful, there," 
I let out the breath I had been holding, happy that he had been the first one to say something. "It's the vodka," I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that had hit the wall. 
Roman hummed; "Typical,"
"What is?"
"That you can't handle your drinks,"
I wanted to smack him— that was allowed in seven minutes of heaven, right? "So what if I can't? It's not a big deal,"
"Sure," Roman said, nodding to himself. "You just need to be broken in or something." 
I wasn't the biggest fan of his choice of words— I was also not a fan of the thought of Roman breaking me more than he had already done, all whilst being completely unaware of it. Choosing not to comment on it further, I switched the subject; "So when was the last time you didn't do anything with a girl in this game?"
He needed a few seconds to scour his brain; "Never, I think,"
Typical. "Even back in middle school?"
"... Definitely,"
I held back a rather large groan— I should've predicted this. 
Roman caught onto my eventual silence; "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"
"... Yeah,"
"Okay, I see," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"
I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"
"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, as he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've always wanted to try out and haven't dared to, now's the time."
My breath hitched as I hoped the thumping of my heart wasn't loud enough for him to hear. There were many things I wanted to try out, sure, but not here.
It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"
... Oh? Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman yet, and I knew she'd be against it.
However, I was being served my biggest dream on a silver platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 
"Okay..." I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me, then?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."
Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"
"... No, you're not,"
"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he was holding a needle or not. One could never be sure... and this was how I knew my anxiety was through the roof.
"So... you want a kiss? That's all?" Roman asked, looking rather pleased with himself and the situation.
This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would switch up and tell me no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he didn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"
Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what I was actually asking for before I fully understood it myself. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 
"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"
Doing my best to still my breathing and not faint, I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"
"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"
For some reason, I felt the urge to cry— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"
Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."
For fuck's sake. I mumbled a curse as Roman laughed, clearly amused by the terrified look on my face. "No, I wouldn't do that," he teased, pulling away just a bit. "I'm not that bad, you know that, right?"
I huffed, not meeting his gaze anymore. Confessing to liking him had given him all the power over me in the world. "I don't know... You tend to be quite horrible,"
"And what horrible things do I do, may I ask?"
Oh, I was ready for this question— I had been ready for a while. "First of all, the fucking tater tots," I grumbled, meeting his amused eyes. "The fact that you pull my hair like you're five years old, you've drawn about a hundred dicks in my chemistry book, and the whole needle thing!"
"Needle thing?" Roman furrowed his brows— damn, he and Letha really had the same face, didn't they? 
"Yeah, the needle thing! Brooke told us!" Something about the confusion on his face felt rather satisfactory; your turn. "You pricked her and her friend Rachel and just... laughed, or something!"
Remembering the incident, Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, that!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that was fun, I can't lie. So, okay, maybe I'm a bit bad, but... you still like me." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and I knew it could lead to no good. "You still want to kiss me, so you can't be too scared? Or maybe..." Roman's hand travelled up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear as he smirked. "Maybe you're just a massive masochist?"
"What? No!" My protests were quick and loud— I wondered what the people outside this closet thought we were doing. "Roman, just... Ugh, fuck this, I'm leaving."
As I reached for the door, Roman grabbed my hand with force I hadn't expected of him, pinning it above my head against the wall. Like this, he was even closer to me than he had been just under a minute ago, and my eyes went wide with the realization that I could physically feel his bottom lip against mine, not yet coming together in the kiss I so desperately craved.
"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he whispered, words slow and low. Something about this whole situation was so intense, I nearly gave in to a shiver. "Whatever this will be, you and I... won't be easy."
"There is no you and I," I mumbled, feeling my heart beat up against his chest. "We do this once, and then we forget it." Please.
Roman hummed, a cocky grin spreading across his plush, pink lips. "You think you'll be able to? I have a feeling you've wanted me for a while,"
Fuck's sake. I hated him even more when he was right. My gaze hardened as it met his, and I wondered how much time we had left. No matter how mad I was at him, I still wanted to kiss him, just once. This might be the only chance I'd ever get, and I was going to take it. 
"Okay, then," Roman accepted my silence as an answer. Nudging my nose with his, he finally pressed his lips against mine with a softness I didn't know he had in him. 
This was not what I had expected. Something about this kiss was shaking up my whole view of the world, along with my view of Roman. The most obnoxious guy with an unmatched arrogance could... kiss like this? Like he actually had a soul? 
His lips moved against mine as though I was made of glass, and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine in the hand he was holding above my head. It sent shivers down my spine as my mind went haywire, wondering why he was being so careful with me. I brought my free hand up to cup his face, feeling how soft he was against my palm. I had expected him to be rough, aggressive... so what on earth was this?
Roman's arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I let out a shaky breath against his lips— heat swirled in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I was burning up from inside. 
But just as it started to get heated, two knocks were heard at the door; Roman pulled away, a victorious smirk in place as though he had successfully proved his point. "Thirty seconds left," he said. "Now, convince me why I shouldn't tell Letha."
What? Still trying to catch my breath, I felt myself freeze up. How was I supposed to think clearly when I was in this state? Roman's hand slid out of mine, waiting for my answer; "So?"
"Just don't," I breathed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heart— did all of this just happen? "Don't tell her."
"That's not good enough," His green eyes were drilling into mine, and it was clear that he wished to corner me. Sadist.
"I'll do your stupid assignment,"
"Nope,"
"I'll... fuck, Roman, I don't know!" 
Roman snickered at my panic, fixing his hair, checking his clock; ten seconds left. "Fine, I'll be nice," he said, reaching out to swipe his thumb along the edge of my lip, wiping away some lipstick. "But you owe me."
Owe him? I wasn't the biggest fan of making a deal with the devil reincarnate in front of me. However, did I have any other choice? I let out a sigh of defeat; "... Fine,"
And this was when it truly hit me; I hated Roman Godfrey with all my heart— I hated the fact that he could make my heart flutter with the smallest gesture, that he could practically walk all over me with no remorse, and that he always looked so fucking good. 
However, at the end of the day, what I hated most... was how much I wanted him.
(a/n: click to read PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8 here!! thank you for reading!<333)
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