#and they’re 10 and can barely read
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rodrifc · 1 year ago
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ngl guys I’m getting a little nervous about The State of the World
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toniodarling · 6 months ago
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I just bought RE2 and why does Leon refuse to look you in the eyes when you turn the camera. Is he scared of eye contact or somethiyn
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aroaessidhe · 1 year ago
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2023 reads // twitter thread
The Sun and The Void
Venezuelan inspired high fantasy
follows a young outcast swordswoman taken in by her grandmother, the dark sorceress for a noble family, who relies on the magic to keep her alive after being attacked by monstrous creatures
and a young noblewoman who’s the shame of her family because of her mixed heritage and desire to use magic
both are manipulated by those with more power than them into a plot to free an ancient evil god
mineral based magic, politics, nonhuman MCs
#The Sun and The Void#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#hm. haha. surface level this is kinda interesting and cool but i am going to follow with so many complaints#though I feel like it didn’t go into the magic or worldbuilding as much as I wanted and it felt irrelevant to the characters#like how does the magic even work? idk man#though I feel like it didn’t go into it as much as I wanted and it felt irrelevant to the characters#very slow to start and the pacing is weird. it would also go ages without having the other POV. very disjointed?#it felt like the first 60% was just context for the group of characters getting together as a group and then it was a bit predisposed with#They’re A Group! even tho. they're barely a group for long#the authors note mentions that the story concept started with a line about the god and ritual and…..yeah I can kind of tell#I feel like everything was built up around it in a way that ultimately that part didn’t fit right#I never bought that any of them were actually like fully committed to the evil dark magic? and also there’s this plot twist#that they have to fully kill the sacrifices & I was like…did we not already know that? girl r you stupid what do you think sacrifice means#also#oh my god at like half way one of the MCs is like. oh finally this guy who I’ve been exchanging letters with for months turned up to get me#away from here! by the way I’ve been exchanging letters with this guy and we’re friends! and like. she’d been doing nothing much for the#last 10% of the book why was that not like….shown as something she was doing? and like build up the friendship for the reader instead of#just dropping it on us - and also that we know the character from the other POV. and hes a racist prick. and we're supposed to believe she'#charmed by him because of this letter writing WE DIDN’T SEE….. why.#and then also that is like. he’s a shitbag and it’s obviously not romantic at all. he’s manipulative and terrible to her#EXCEPT at the end it implies his bad behaviour is because demon and oh uwu he gets all beat up and maybe hes sowwy now#and starts to imply she likes and is attracted to him? and I get the impression the next book is gonna be like evil power couple dynamic?#which. feels like the first concept the author had; and then tried to build up to that but not effectively lmao#for the lesbians:#I DO APPRECIATE having an assumed love interest then realising that that was idealised and actually you have feelings#for this other person you’ve become friends with! nice slow switch up. though quite brief#I do however dislike that when she admitted her feelings to the first LI and she rejected her it was still framed as the other’s fault#for not reciprocating the feelings….worst trope….also like. it kind of conflated her not feeling that way to her having a bit of class disc#which. yikes? oh my god stop villainising people for not reciprocating romantic feelings (ALSO they turn out to be related anyway 🤪)#i just feel like the romance switchover could have been done with more nuance and complexity
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the-cosmic-cauldron · 27 days ago
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♡𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕍𝕖𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕟 & ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥: ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ♡
Post-continued in another post.
Welcome to 10 Days, 10 Posts from The Cosmic Cauldron! Over the next ten days, I’ll be sharing a blend of astrology and tarot posts, each designed to spark your curiosity and guide your journey. If you find my content interesting, fascinating, or engaging, be sure to click the follow button for more! Ready to dive deeper into your personal journey? Head to my homepage and book a reading — you won’t regret it.
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How they love: Aries Venus doesn’t hold back—they go after who they want with confidence and enthusiasm. As excited lovers, they’ll make a move as soon as they feel even the slightest attraction. They’re often the first to develop a crush and will eagerly showcase their best qualities to win you over.
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Aries and those influenced by the First House are incredibly energetic. When it comes to love, they seize opportunities and live in the moment. They don’t concern themselves with the details; their sole focus is on pursuing you. What they want from you becomes their main priority, and they are determined to go after it with intensity and passion.
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These Aries pursue love with passion and intensity, but they’re looking for a partner to build with. They seek lovers who share their ambition and want to seize opportunities together, particularly financial or material gains. At times, their drive to achieve through relationships might make them seem transactional or like they’re using their partner, but their intentions stem from a desire to build a secure and thriving future.
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Talkative and expressive, these Aries are natural chatterboxes who thrive on communication in relationships. They love to hang out, explore, and go places with their partner, constantly wanting to share experiences. They’re the type of lovers who want to “pop out” and showcase their connection, often putting their relationship in the spotlight.
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More emotionally intuitive and discerning, these Aries still pursue love with enthusiasm but with higher emotional standards. They value loyalty, stability, kindness, and authenticity in a partner, only pursuing those who align with their emotional needs.Though they maintain the Aries excitement for love, they are more cautious and hesitant when making emotional connections.
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These are playful, fun, and romantic lovers who view love as an adventure. They see relationships as vibrant and exciting, often seeking whirlwind romances filled with joy and passion. However, they don’t settle down easily. Only someone who brings unmatched fun and excitement into their life can keep their attention.
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Practical and serious about love, these Aries have a checklist for their ideal partner.They are discerning and will only pursue someone who meets their high standards of excellence. They seek perfection in love, refusing to settle for less.
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These Aries rush headlong into relationships, often falling deeply in love with someone they barely know. They are romantics at heart, driven by a love for connection and companionship. Their focus is on finding love and maintaining it, even if it means diving in without a second thought.
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Intense and controlling, these Aries are passionate lovers with a “my way or the highway” attitude. They are deeply inquisitive about their partner, often uncovering every detail about them to deepen the connection. They bring a raw, sensual energy to relationships, often dominating and leading with their desires.
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Adventurous and open-minded, these Aries seek partners who are willing to explore the world and share intellectual pursuits. They are drawn to lovers who can stimulate their minds and match their love for freedom and discovery. They see love as a global experience, constantly seeking growth and excitement.
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Ambitious and status-driven, these Aries want to “flex” through their relationships.They seek partners who enhance their image and help them display their success and charisma.For them, a relationship is a reflection of their own accomplishments and personal power.
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Social and free-spirited, these Aries move fluidly between connections, often showing affection to multiple people. They value friendships and social bonds but may struggle with long-term romantic commitment.While they care deeply, their love is often fleeting, as they thrive on variety and new experiences.
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Reserved and introspective, these Aries have a quieter approach to love.They may struggle to express their feelings, often getting stuck in their thoughts and emotions. Though they feel the Aries energy within, it’s often difficult for them to take action, leaving them longing for connections they can’t always pursue.
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How they love: Taurus Venus individuals are focused on the practical aspects of life. They express their love through affection, care, and nurturance for those they deeply value. These lovers prioritize consistency and reliability, always striving to show up for their partner. Once they commit, they believe in holding on and staying loyal, dedicated to the relationship for the long haul.
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Taurus Venus in the 1st house manifests as an excited and passionate lover. These individuals want to put themselves out there, actively pursuing love and romance. They tend to fall in love quickly because they deeply desire romance in their lives. However, they can get bored easily, so keeping their interest requires more excitement than with a typical Taurus Venus. They seek a partner who is intriguing, confident, bold, and full of energy. They won’t settle for someone who dims their light. Ultimately, they crave a relationship filled with fun, excitement, and longevity.
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Taurus Venus in the 2nd house often focuses on material and emotional reciprocity in relationships. These individuals can be seen as “gold diggers” or “sugar babies,” valuing a partner who helps them “level up” in life. They give as much love as they receive, basing their efforts on what their partner provides. Generosity is key to winning their affection, but if their needs aren’t met, they can be quite reserved. They thrive in relationships that provide stability, luxury, and mutual support.
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Taurus Venus in the 3rd house tends to be a smooth talker with grand ideas about love. They often promise the world but struggle to deliver on their words. Their charm lies in their ability to captivate others with their communication skills, reeling people in with sweet talk and promises. However, they may lack the follow-through needed to build a stable relationship, leaving their partners feeling disillusioned.
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Taurus Venus in the 4th house seeks comfort and security. These individuals prefer staying home with their partner, enjoying cozy nights, and nurturing love in a domestic setting. They can be possessive, wanting their partner close and prioritizing private moments over social outings. While they create a safe and loving environment, they might unintentionally isolate their partner from others in their life.
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Taurus Venus in the 5th house thrives on romance and fun. These individuals love the idea of a “movie-style” relationship, filled with grand gestures and luxurious experiences. They are the type to spoil their partner with gifts, plan extravagant trips, or create special moments, such as romantic getaways. They value passion and excitement in love, prioritizing enjoyment and indulgence.
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Taurus Venus in the 6th house holds high standards for love and moves slowly in relationships. These individuals take their time committing, often needing years to fully dedicate themselves to a partner. While they are deliberate and cautious, they can be surprisingly physical and passionate early in relationships. Once committed, their standards for their partner only rise, making them demanding yet loyal lovers.
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Taurus Venus in the 7th house is deeply committed to finding their soulmate. They view love as a profound partnership and take relationships very seriously. Cheating or disloyalty is not on their radar—they’re all about finding their other half and locking in for life. They prioritize balance, harmony, and mutual devotion in love, striving for a relationship that feels complete and destined.
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Taurus Venus in the 8th house exudes an intense and controlling love energy. These individuals demand vulnerability from their partners but often struggle to reciprocate emotionally. They can be solid and dependable, but their guarded nature makes them difficult to read. Their love can be all-consuming and possessive, seeking to isolate their partner from outside influences to ensure loyalty and intimacy.
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Taurus Venus in the 9th house seeks a partner who adds excitement and growth to their life. They value intellectual and spiritual connection, looking for someone who can share in adventures, explore new philosophies, and create a fulfilling life together. They are drawn to partners who bring joy and freedom while enhancing their personal journey.
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Taurus Venus in the 10th house focuses on building a relationship rooted in success and material wealth. These individuals prioritize status, achievement, and financial security over emotional depth. They’re more transactional than sentimental, emphasizing shared goals and accomplishments in love. They are excellent partners for building empires but may shy away from diving into deep emotional waters.
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Taurus Venus in the 11th house is the nurturing and supportive friend-lover. They often act as the “parent” of their social circle, always ready to help or provide. While generous and giving, they maintain a sense of independence and value freedom in their relationships. They enjoy exploring sensuality and connections with different people, blending friendship with romance in their unique way.
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Taurus Venus in the 12th house struggles with expressing their love. These individuals may feel lost in their romantic pursuits, often unsure of how to channel their Taurus qualities. They crave affection and connection but lack clarity about what they want in a partner or how to give and receive love effectively. Their journey in love involves learning to express themselves and embrace their vulnerability.
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How they love: Gemini Venus is a lover who thrives on versatility and finds joy through creativity. They enjoy communicating, getting to know their partner, and exploring new experiences together. Their curiosity drives them to deeply engage with the person they are passionate about or feel affection for.
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Gemini in the First House is very curious when it comes to love. These individuals are fascinated by almost everything and everyone. They’re adventurous and open to trying new experiences. Their perspective on love is rooted in curiosity—they want to understand people deeply, see how they live, and get inside their minds. Lovers with this placement need a strong mental connection. They’re likely to pursue their love interests passionately, showing intense interest and focus.
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Gemini in the Second House aligns their curiosity in relationships with a focus on achieving their dreams. They often look for a partner who can help them expand their ideas and execute plans they’ve curated in their minds. These individuals approach love almost like a business arrangement, seeking someone who supports their ambitions and shares their vision.
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Gemini in the Fourth House craves stimulation but can be hot and cold. They might pursue someone with great enthusiasm, driven by curiosity, only to pull away if the connection lacks depth. They prioritize mental resonance in relationships and may retreat when it’s absent. However, they often stay in touch out of lingering curiosity, maintaining a platonic or alternative connection if romantic interest fades.
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Gemini in the Fifth House is playful, fun-loving, and sociable. They are drawn to unique individuals, particularly creatives, entertainers, or artists. They dislike traditional or routine lifestyles and prefer people with eccentric, innovative qualities. Love for them is about excitement and experiencing something different, so they pursue partners who bring vibrancy and creativity into their lives.
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Gemini in the Sixth House seeks intellectual stimulation and perfection in relationships. These individuals value smart, communicative partners who can engage with them as equals. Relationships with this placement often resemble deep friendships, as they are looking for someone who can share their day-to-day life while offering mental intrigue.
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Gemini in the Seventh House tends to move through many relationships due to their insatiable curiosity about people. They often find fascination in new connections, leading to frequent changes in partners. While they are enthusiastic in the beginning, they can become detached and shift their focus to others. This placement can indicate someone who enjoys the thrill of connection more than the depth of commitment.
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Gemini in the Eighth House is intense, curious, and deeply attached in relationships. Initially, they might seem playful and carefree, but over time they develop a controlling side, wanting their partner’s full attention. They often take on a therapist-like role, analyzing their partner and attempting to influence their behavior. Their love can feel overwhelming yet transformative for both parties.
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Gemini in the Ninth House seeks adventure and variety in love. These individuals thrive on experiences and often form short-term connections while traveling or exploring new environments. They value the thrill of new relationships over emotional depth and rarely take love too seriously, preferring to focus on the joy of the moment.
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Gemini in the Tenth House views relationships as opportunities for collaboration and shared ambition. They seek partners who can help them build a legacy, whether through creative projects, businesses, or other ventures. They are drawn to driven individuals who can bring their ideas to life and help them achieve their goals.
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Gemini in the Eleventh House is a social butterfly, thriving on connections with diverse groups of people. They blur the lines between friendship and romance, often engaging in unconventional or casual relationships. They live by their own rules in love, embracing freedom and spontaneity while avoiding traditional boundaries.
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Gemini in the Twelfth House is often confused or conflicted about love. They feel curious and drawn to others but may struggle to express their feelings or communicate effectively. This can result in behaviors like ghosting or being hot and cold. Internally, they might experience a whirlwind of emotions, but externally, their actions seem disconnected or unclear.
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How they love: Cancer Venus individuals are deeply romantic. They value emotional connections and strive to bond with their partners on a profound level. They crave warmth, affection, and, above all, the feeling of being truly understood. Intimacy is very important to them, and they approach romance with seriousness and dedication, holding it as a core value in their lives.
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Cancer Venus in the First House individuals are bold lovers. They bring excitement and energy to their relationships and are not afraid to pursue love actively. For them, love is all about passion, sparks, and truly feeling a deep connection. They want a love that’s unforgettable—a connection that lights them up and stays with them forever. Mediocre love or passive partners won’t do. They prefer someone who asserts themselves and pursues them with enthusiasm.
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Cancer Venus in the Second House people are grounded and value stability in relationships. They seek a solid foundation and have no patience for games. They prioritize trust and want a partner committed to the long haul. For them, love is about building a lifetime partnership, rooted in shared values and loyalty. These individuals cannot align with someone who doesn’t respect their values, which are incredibly important to them. Long-term devotion and security are their ultimate goals.
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Cancer Venus in the Third House loves to talk about love. They are expressive and seek a partner who shares this quality. Emotional conversations and deep connections are key to their relationships. They want someone they can feel comfortable with wherever they go—a “safe person” who becomes their haven. Reciprocity in communication is vital, and they thrive with a partner who is open, expressive, and emotionally available.
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Cancer Venus in the Fourth House individuals are homebodies who value privacy in their relationships. They seek someone who allows them to open up fully and feel secure. For them, love feels like family—warm, protective, and intimate. These lovers prefer a laid-back, relaxed connection and enjoy staying in, where they can form a deep bond. They prioritize emotional depth and stability over outward displays of affection.
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Cancer Venus in the Fifth House individuals bring passion and creativity to their love lives. They seek exciting, joyful relationships filled with fun and adventure. They thrive on balancing time spent at home—baking, cooking, and relaxing—with exploring new activities outside. These lovers are artistic and playful, radiating positive energy and making their relationships feel vibrant and fulfilling.
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Cancer Venus in the Sixth House individuals are serious about love. They have high standards and need a partner who provides security and meets their expectations. Trust takes time to build with them, as they are selective and cautious in their approach to relationships. Once committed, they are loyal and dedicated. Letting someone into their life is a significant decision, as it signals they see long-term potential.
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Cancer Venus in the Seventh House individuals are quintessential romantics. They adore love in all its forms and often fall deeply in love. Relationships mean everything to them, but they can become overly absorbed in their partner, sometimes losing their sense of self. They thrive on companionship and can easily blend their identity with their partner, making balance and independence important for their growth.
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Cancer Venus in the Eighth House individuals are private and reserved in love. They take time to trust and open up, often guarding their emotions fiercely. Vulnerability is difficult for them, and they may appear defensive or distant until they feel completely secure. Once trust is established, they commit deeply, but until then, they can be unpredictable and protective of their inner world.
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Cancer Venus in the Ninth House blends emotional depth with intellectual curiosity. They desire an emotionally rich connection but also want to explore life’s grand questions with their partner. These individuals love discussing philosophical and spiritual topics and are equally comfortable at home or traveling to new places. Their ideal partner provides both comfort and adventure, creating a harmonious balance.
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Cancer Venus in the Tenth House prioritizes stability and security in relationships. They seek a partner who can provide a solid foundation—someone responsible and dependable. While they value emotional connections, they focus more on practical aspects like creating a stable home and financial security. They gravitate toward partners who offer reliability and a sense of structure in their lives.
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Cancer Venus in the Eleventh House individuals are nurturing and loving but may overextend themselves in their friendships. As the “parent friend” of their group, they often prioritize others’ needs, which can lead to emotional burnout. In relationships, their focus may shift between their partner and their social circle, making balance a challenge. They often crave unconventional partnerships that complement their dynamic and multifaceted life.
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Cancer Venus in the Twelfth House individuals can be mysterious and emotionally guarded. They desire warmth, affection, and romance but struggle to express these needs openly. They may idealize love and dream of the perfect romance, yet hesitate to pursue it actively. This can create blurred lines and indifference in their approach to relationships. These individuals must learn to embrace vulnerability and assert their desires for love and connection.
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How they love: Leo Venuses are warm, affectionate, lively, and enthusiastic lovers. They have a deep passion for romance and an undeniable love for love itself. Everything about love excites them and fills them with joy.
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Leo Venus in the First House is bold and energetic in love. They actively pursue romance because they love the idea of being in love. These individuals are initiators, starting conversations and interactions with ease. Once in a partnership, they are deeply devoted and prioritize loyalty, both from themselves and their partner. Loyalty and commitment are the foundation of their relationships, and they hold high standards for both parties.
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Leo Venus in the Second House is possessive and passionate. When they want someone, they go all in. Their jealousy can arise quickly, as they want exclusive attention from their partner. They value stability in relationships and seek long-term connections. However, their intense emotions can sometimes lead to controlling tendencies. They love deeply and are fully committed once they connect with someone, striving for a lasting bond.
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Leo Venus in the Third House is a natural flirt. They charm others with their words and can effortlessly boost their partner’s confidence. These lovers are communicative, engaging, and enjoy showing off their significant other. They thrive on spending quality time together and create relationships filled with playful banter and constant connection. Their way with words makes them unforgettable.
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Leo Venus in the Fourth House is a sentimental and cozy lover. They are deeply passionate yet possessive, often wanting their partner to themselves. They focus on building a life together and creating a warm, nurturing environment. These lovers prioritize their partner’s comfort and enjoy giving gifts as expressions of affection. While they value security, they may also exhibit controlling tendencies regarding their partner’s social interactions.
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Leo Venus in the Fifth House views love as a fun and thrilling adventure. They crave excitement, passion, and spontaneity in relationships. They dive headfirst into love, seeking laughter, intimacy, and shared experiences. However, they can become easily bored if the relationship lacks excitement. These lovers prioritize fun and joy, making them dynamic partners who thrive on keeping things lively.
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Leo Venus in the Sixth House has high standards and expects perfection in love. They need their partner to adore and praise them, often wanting to feel like the center of their world. These individuals can be perfectionists, expecting their partner to look good, be intelligent, and remain loyal. They often wait for their partner to make the first move, as pride can prevent them from openly expressing their feelings early on.
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Leo Venus in the Seventh House is the quintessential romantic. They dream of love that mirrors fairy tales or romantic movies, desiring both deep commitment and playful fun. They seek long-term partnerships filled with passion, mutual respect, and affection. Marriage, loyalty, and partnership are paramount to them, and they refuse to settle for anything mediocre in love.
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Leo Venus in the Eighth House desires intense, deep connections. They need to trust and feel a strong bond with their partner before committing fully. These lovers value emotional vulnerability and expect their partner to have something meaningful to offer. Control issues can arise, as they prefer to maintain a sense of power in their relationships. They demand depth and loyalty, and superficial connections won’t satisfy them.
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Leo Venus in the Ninth House is adventurous, optimistic, and open-minded in love. They enjoy sharing beliefs and exploring new experiences with their partner. These lovers thrive on excitement, philosophical discussions, and traveling together. However, they prefer partners who align with their values and ideas, as conflicting beliefs can create tension. They bring warmth, affection, and a sense of wonder to their relationships.
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Leo Venus in the Tenth House values stability, success, and shared ambition in love. They are drawn to partners who can provide security and help them build a life of wealth and achievement. These individuals often take on a leadership role in the relationship and expect their partner to contribute equally. They view their partnerships as a reflection of their status and success.
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Leo Venus in the Eleventh House is sociable and unconventional in love. They thrive on connecting with unique individuals and building relationships based on mutual understanding. These lovers are friendly, open, and enjoy a variety of social interactions. While they value commitment, they may struggle to fully commit due to their wide social network and busy lifestyle. They need a partner who understands their dynamic and multifaceted nature.
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Leo Venus in the Twelfth House is romantic, idealistic, and deeply emotional. They long for profound love and intimacy but often struggle to express their desires openly. These lovers may feel blocked or passive in relationships, finding it challenging to pursue affection in the way they truly want. Despite their struggles, their inner warmth and capacity for deep love make them highly compassionate and empathetic partners.
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How they love: Virgo Venus individuals are practical lovers who prioritize giving and nurturing in relationships. They offer themselves wholeheartedly, viewing love as a foundation for stability, security, and longevity. These lovers immerse themselves deeply into the experience, seeking to learn, grow, and build meaningful connections.
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Virgo Venus in the 1st house creates an interesting dynamic. Initially, these individuals leap into romantic pursuits with enthusiasm and excitement. They come across as eager and passionate, which can be thrilling for potential partners. However, as the relationship progresses, their Virgo traits emerge—they pull back, become more reserved, and display a need for order and structure. They may categorize people and situations meticulously, wanting things to align with their expectations. This sudden shift can make them seem inconsistent, leading some to perceive them as love-bombers, as they start hot and heavy but later withdraw once their Virgo tendencies take over.
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Virgo Venus in the 2nd house is stubborn and controlling. These individuals value security and stability in love and seek a partner who aligns with their strong personal values. They resist external influences or partners trying to impose their ideals. If their values aren’t matched, they become reserved, uptight, and unwilling to open up. They are intentional about their choices in love but can be challenging due to their control issues and insistence on things being their way.
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With Virgo Venus in the 3rd house, communication is paramount. These individuals are talkative and thrive on intellectual stimulation. They need a partner who can engage them mentally and keep up with their rapid thoughts. Emotional depth may not be as critical as intellectual synergy, and they often seek a connection that feels like a “mental orgasm.” They desire synchronicity with their partner, ensuring that both are on the same page in their endeavors.
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Virgo Venus in the 4th house fosters a calm and cozy connection. These individuals are deeply sentimental, nurturing, and giving to the point of self-sacrifice. They create a warm, homely atmosphere in relationships and are intentional lovers. However, trust and a genuine connection take time to build, as they are cautious about committing to someone they don’t fully trust or feel aligned with.
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Virgo Venus in the 5th house brings a fun and playful energy to love. These individuals are adventurous, creative, and know how to make relationships exciting. However, beneath the fun lies a serious side—they have high standards and won’t hesitate to end a relationship if their partner doesn’t meet their expectations. They may surprise partners with their abrupt shifts, as they balance their playful nature with a deep need for seriousness and alignment in love.
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Virgo Venus in the 6th house can appear cold or detached, as they focus more on service and practicality than romance. They give generously, often acting as a helper or caregiver in their relationships, but their actions stem more from a sense of duty than deep emotional connection. They prioritize building a strong foundation, and while they may not fall deeply in love, they create stability and reliability in their relationships.
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Virgo Venus in the 7th house seeks perfection in love. These individuals are highly selective and may even consult matchmakers to find their ideal partner. They have high standards and won’t settle for anyone who doesn’t meet their criteria. While they may seem hard to please, when they do commit, they are deeply loyal and intentional, having thoroughly vetted their partner.
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Virgo Venus in the 8th house is private, guarded, and slow to open up. They crave control in relationships and are hesitant to express vulnerability. Trust must be earned, and they reveal their emotions in small, controlled doses. Their need for control can create distance, and partners may find it challenging to break through their emotional walls.
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Virgo Venus in the 9th house is adventurous and intellectual. These individuals dream of exploring the world with their partner and often have their ideal life and adventures pre-planned. They love deep, philosophical conversations and value a partner who can engage them intellectually and share their vision of life. While they are open-minded, they are particular about what they share and how they engage in conversations.
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Virgo Venus in the 10th house often finds love through work or professional connections. These individuals are focused on career and personal goals, leaving little time for romantic pursuits. They value a partner who aligns with their professional image and ambitions, making them selective about a partner’s job, income, and public persona.
1️⃣1️⃣🏠
Virgo Venus in the 11th house prioritizes friendships over romantic relationships. These individuals are introverted and prefer meaningful connections over casual relationships. They may take a long time to find a romantic partner, often forming bonds with people they already know through friends or colleagues. Their focus is on camaraderie and shared goals rather than passionate romance.
1️⃣2️⃣🏠
Virgo Venus in the 12th house is confused and conflicted in love. They crave perfection but struggle to build stable, fulfilling relationships. They often attract chaotic or disorganized partners who drain their energy. Their giving nature makes them susceptible to being taken advantage of, and they may find themselves repeatedly drawn to relationships that lack balance and stability.
🅛🅘🅑🅡🅐 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢
How they love: Libra in Venus is all about forming deep mental connections with others. They are natural romantics who thrive on meaningful partnerships and feel truly fulfilled when in a relationship. Having someone by their side gives them a sense of completeness and balance. Partnerships hold significant importance to them, not just emotionally but also as a way to build a shared future. They value a partner who can align with their goals, help them start new ventures, or support them in completing things they couldn’t accomplish on their own while single.
1️⃣🏠
These individuals are highly enthusiastic and headstrong about love. They dive into romance with excitement and passion, needing to be constantly stimulated. They dislike boredom and are drawn to partners who captivate them mentally and emotionally, keeping them engaged. They crave relationships that give them a reason to stay committed and love a partner who brings excitement and fun into their lives.
2️⃣🏠
These individuals are deeply possessive and prioritize their partners highly. They want their partner to align with their lifestyle and values, but they may allow someone into their life even if they don’t initially align, simply because they want the relationship. They tend to build their life around their partner and are focused on creating a life together based on their personal vision. They can be jealous but are devoted to building a solid connection.
3️⃣🏠
This placement makes individuals highly communicative and mentally driven in relationships. They enjoy deep conversations and form connections through consistent communication. Leisurely activities, entertainment, and fun play a big role in their relationships, and they measure the strength of their bonds through shared enjoyment. They are drawn to partners who keep things interesting and stimulating.
4️⃣🏠
These individuals exude cozy and nurturing energy. They are sentimental, aesthetic, and grounded, valuing emotional connection and intellectual stimulation. They provide a balance of empathetic listening and active presence, making their partners feel both intellectually engaged and emotionally cared for. Their love is rooted in creating a comforting, intimate home life.
5️⃣🏠
Romance for these individuals is centered around fun, creativity, and entertainment. They love going out with their partner, exploring new places, and trying creative activities. They get bored easily and thrive in relationships that are dynamic and exciting. They enjoy starting creative projects with their partner and value the joy of shared experiences.
6️⃣🏠
This placement can make individuals more reserved and analytical in love. They may struggle to show affection openly and sometimes enter relationships out of a sense of duty or fear of being alone. They can be nitpicky with their partner but have a kind and giving heart. They tend to overthink relationships, sometimes focusing more on practicalities than emotions.
7️⃣🏠
These are ultimate romantics who thrive in committed partnerships. They often seek marriage or serious relationships early in life and dislike being single. Serial daters, they constantly seek love and enjoy being in the public eye with their partner. They adore gifts and grand romantic gestures, valuing relationships that make them feel cherished and adored.
8️⃣🏠
Love is intense and complex for these individuals. They can be deeply controlling and protective of their partners, often fearing vulnerability and rejection. While they form strong attachments, they may struggle to express their emotions openly, leading to a push-pull dynamic. Developing trust and balancing emotional vulnerability with romantic expression is a lifelong journey for them.
9️⃣🏠
This placement creates a love for adventure and intellectual exploration. These individuals seek partners who share their zest for travel, debate, and learning. Life feels more fulfilling with a partner by their side, and they thrive on experiences shared with someone special. They love discussing ideas, exploring the world, and creating lasting memories with their partner.
1️⃣0️⃣🏠
These individuals are often focused on superficial aspects of relationships, such as appearance, fashion, and social status. They are drawn to partners who meet their ideal image and may start conversations or relationships based on attraction to someone’s looks or success. While mental connections matter, their initial focus is often on external qualities.
1️⃣1️⃣🏠
Friendship plays a significant role in their love life. These individuals thrive in social settings and often blur the lines between friends and romantic partners. They struggle with commitment due to indecisiveness and the abundance of social connections. They are highly social, rarely alone, and may explore relationships through online dating or social circles.
1️⃣2️⃣🏠
Romance for these individuals is often confusing and elusive. They may struggle to understand their desires or express their romantic and social sides. The hazy energy of the 12th house makes it challenging to pursue love clearly, leading to feelings of uncertainty or disconnection in relationships. Self-awareness and introspection can help them navigate their romantic path.
🅢🅒🅞🅡🅟🅘🅞 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢
How they love: Inward-looking and desiring a connection that allows them to be both vulnerable and expressive, these individuals are persistent in love and determined to have things their way.
1️⃣🏠
Very bold and passionate lovers. These individuals come across as strong, magnetic, and charismatic. However, when you get closer to them, you might be shocked. They tend to pull back and avoid vulnerability. While they want you, they hold back a lot when it comes to love and pursuing you. They’ll want you to stick around while they unfold and build trust, but they struggle with trust issues. If they feel like you’re probing too much, they can quickly distance themselves.
2️⃣🏠
These people can be extremely possessive and controlling. When they have their eyes on you, they want you — and they want to claim you. They might objectify those they’re interested in, believing you belong to them. They deeply value loyalty, but this can turn unhealthy and toxic, as they demand extreme loyalty. They may become so focused on building their relationship or getting what they want from their partner that they overlook other important aspects of the relationship.
3️⃣🏠
More talkative and expressive, these individuals often share their intellectual ideas and engage in daily chatter. However, they aren’t typically deep conversationalists. While they may gossip and chat with you, they keep many things hidden. They are secretive about themselves and may expect certain things from you without fully explaining why. Their approach to love is scattered, and they have a hard time knowing how to truly engage with it.
4️⃣🏠
Very private and closed off, these individuals take a long time to fall in love or find love. They value their privacy and prefer being around people who feel familiar and comforting. They focus more on how you feel about them than their own feelings. Trust is a big issue for them, and it takes them time to trust enough to commit.
5️⃣🏠
Fun-loving and carefree, these individuals view love as a playground. They enjoy having fun in relationships, but if you’re involved with them long-term, you’ll notice how possessive they can be. They have difficulty opening up, and even though they enjoy having fun, they put up walls when it comes to expressing their true feelings or talking about deeper topics. They often engage in superficial or surface-level relationships, trying to meet their needs without forming deep attachments.
6️⃣🏠
Private and focused on other areas of life, these people don’t prioritize love. They seek a partner they can trust, but they’re drawn to detached relationships. They want someone who can be there for them when needed, but not overly involved in the emotional or passionate side of the relationship. They are prone to one-sided relationships and can attract people who take advantage of them.
7️⃣🏠
These individuals seek early commitment and desire a romantic relationship. Once they commit, they’re very loyal, but it’s difficult for them to move on after a serious breakup. Healing takes time, and they hold on to past relationships for longer than they should. They find it challenging to move forward after ending a commitment.
8️⃣🏠
Extremely deep and sensitive, these individuals are hard to get close to. They have trust issues and avoid vulnerability. They prefer to maintain control in the relationship and dislike shifting power to their partner. They don’t actively pursue others; instead, they want people to come to them. When they do love, they love deeply and expect a lot of loyalty, but they can become toxic and passive-aggressive. Their sexual energy is strong, and they can quickly build resentment in the relationship.
9️⃣🏠
Philosophical and introspective, these individuals seek partnerships that help them grow and transform. They’re drawn to unique people who embrace their dark side. Intellectual stimulation is key for them; they value a partner’s life philosophy and beliefs more than their appearance. These individuals are interested in a deep emotional connection rather than superficial attractions.
1️⃣0️⃣🏠
Focused on power and influence, these individuals like to have control in relationships. They seek a partner who submits to them, bending to their will. They’re often drawn to relationships that enhance their public image and may prioritize finding someone who boosts their status. This placement can lead to controlling tendencies and power struggles within relationships.
1️⃣1️⃣🏠
These individuals form deep connections with many people, but they are also quite sneaky. They have trust issues and are often unsure of themselves. They tend to do things secretly and are good at maintaining loyalty with friends, but they can be all over the place when it comes to romantic relationships. Loyalty is not always their strength, but they still expect it from others. They may struggle with inconsistency and double standards.
1️⃣2️⃣🏠
This is a confused and malefic placement. These individuals desire romance and a deep connection but often feel isolated and distant. They struggle to express their feelings and may appear cold or uninterested, even though they long for nurturing and closeness. This internal conflict makes it difficult for them to fully engage in a relationship or express the romance they crave.
🅢🅐🅖🅘🅣🅣🅐🅡🅘🅤🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢
How they love: Sagittarius Venus individuals express their love for life through their relationships. They value freedom and have an insatiable desire to explore as much as possible. Constantly seeking stimulation and new learning experiences, they are the type of lovers who are always on the go and eager to try something new. Embracing life and its authenticity is a top priority for them, as they thrive on engaging in genuine, authentic connections that fulfill their craving for fun and adventure.
1️⃣🏠
These individuals are bold, passionate, and all-consuming when it comes to love. They act instinctively, rarely thinking before they make a move. They pursue what they want and crave freedom. They enjoy having space and distance from the person they’re with, or the person they like. However, when they desire someone, they want them completely. When they’re affectionate, they’re fully engaged. But when they’re not, they’re occupied elsewhere. They constantly need to be stimulated.
2️⃣🏠
These individuals are possessive but also desire freedom for themselves, although they may not offer the same freedom to their partner. They appreciate a certain level of detachment in relationships to explore life’s possibilities but simultaneously want to keep their partner close. They’re drawn to partners who give them space yet remain loyal. They enjoy the dynamic of having both freedom and commitment in their relationship.
3️⃣🏠
People with this placement love spending time with those they like, particularly their crushes. Love, for them, is an adventure that includes intellectual stimulation through deep conversations and exploring new places together. They enjoy the dynamic of best friends who can share exciting experiences and have fun conversations. This type of person thrives on connecting and exploring the world with their partner.
4️⃣🏠
Homebodies at heart, these individuals enjoy being at home when single. However, in a relationship, they seek balance and excitement. They combine nurturing energy with a sense of adventure, enjoying both staying in and going out to experience new things. They’re optimistic, positive, and comforting to their partner, but they also need space and time to relax and recharge.
5️⃣🏠
These individuals are all about fun, love, and playfulness. Curious and open-minded, they enjoy trying new things, meeting new people, and exploring new places. They’re excited by variety and adventure, especially in their romantic relationships. Intimacy for them is passionate and fast-paced, and they can easily move on from partners, always excited for the next adventure.
6️⃣🏠
This placement brings some routine to the spontaneous energy of Sagittarius. These individuals seek a partner who excites them but also provides stability and loyalty. While they love to pursue excitement and fun in romance, they need a solid partner who is consistent, hygienic, and healthy. They expect their partner to be reliable, balanced, and able to keep up with their fluctuating energy.
7️⃣🏠
These individuals are quick to commit and very excited about love. They’re willing to make commitments on a whim, often without overthinking. They can commit quickly, even in just a few weeks, and ride that wave of excitement until it fades. Once the relationship ends, they’ll move on just as quickly, seeking their next romantic adventure.
8️⃣🏠
Profound thinkers, these individuals connect on an intellectual level and enjoy deep, mentally stimulating conversations. They’re drawn to partners who are emotionally available, deep, and interesting. However, they also need space to maintain their own freedom and autonomy. They seek partners who offer both emotional depth and the freedom to live independently.
9️⃣🏠
Free-spirited and independent, these individuals resist being tied down by love. They love having crushes and find people to be adventures worth exploring, but they dislike commitment. They need space and hate control, thriving in relationships that allow them freedom and flexibility. If their partner offers space, they may commit, but if not, they’re likely to move on quickly.
1️⃣0️⃣🏠
These individuals are goal-oriented and often attracted to partners who are successful, particularly those with financial stability. They associate money with freedom and seek a partner who can provide the financial security that allows them to enjoy life—traveling, learning, and pursuing other passions. They want a solid, successful partner who can give them the freedom to live an abundant life.
1️⃣1️⃣🏠
Great friends, these individuals are honest and real, offering new ideas and perspectives. They enjoy unconventional relationships and may have been in many relationships, but few have worked out. They prefer relationships that challenge tradition and are open to experiences others might shy away from. They value freedom and change in both life and relationships, disliking the feeling of being tied down.
1️⃣2️⃣
These individuals may struggle in committed relationships because they feel suffocated or bogged down. They often attract partners who don’t align with their need for freedom, making it difficult for them to express affection or assert their desires for exploration. These individuals may end up in monogamous, committed relationships that don’t allow them the space they need, often without realizing how important this freedom truly is.
🅒🅐🅟🅡🅘🅒🅞🅡🅝 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢
How they love: Practical, devoted, and in it for the long haul, they are willing to handle relationships in ways that others may not. They are prepared to do the difficult work necessary to maintain a relationship. Loyal to a fault, they are also very giving to those they love.
1️⃣🏠
These individuals are bold lovers with a strong presence. They come on strong and assert themselves, often with a “my way or the highway” mentality. They don’t have time for games and are very practical when it comes to love. Though not necessarily romantic, they get excited about someone they like and put in the effort to pursue them. They enjoy the challenge of earning their partner and prefer to invest in someone who is worth their time.
2️⃣🏠
Incredibly possessive, these people may not even want a relationship until they reach a certain level of success or stability. Once they’ve achieved their goals, they seek a partner who matches their energy and work ethic. They can be controlling, wanting their partner all to themselves and expecting reciprocation in both values and life goals.
3️⃣🏠
These Capricorns are fun and enjoy connecting on a deeper level. They love to share their life stories and learn about their partner’s experiences. They appreciate chill vibes and enjoy conversing about goals, dreams, and aspirations. When in a relationship, they like to plan their future with their partner and integrate them into their life.
4️⃣🏠
Reserved and private, these individuals don’t actively seek love but expect others to approach them. Earning their trust takes time, and they’re selective about who they let in emotionally. Proving loyalty and earning their investment is key. They value the opinions of their family and friends, and if you don’t pass the vibe check with them, you’re not getting in.
5️⃣🏠
This is the fun-loving Capricorn who enjoys having a good time and hooking up with different people. While they may have fun, they’re not likely to take anyone seriously unless you can match their energy and fit into their life beyond just having fun. They take commitment seriously and only enter relationships when they feel someone is a good fit for their long-term plans.
6️⃣🏠
Serious about love, these individuals have high expectations. They need a partner who is successful, healthy, clean, and well-presented. They’re not interested in anyone who doesn’t meet these standards, and they can be very critical. These individuals often remain single for long periods due to their exacting standards.
7️⃣🏠
These people take marriage seriously. They may marry early if they find someone who truly resonates with them, or they may marry later, waiting for someone who meets their high standards. They are romantic and want to give their all to a partner they feel truly deserves their love.
8️⃣🏠
Deep and intense, these individuals carry heavy energy around love, often due to past hurts or negative experiences in relationships. They may have a pessimistic view of love but still have strong sexual needs. Trust and emotional security are essential for them to commit, and they need a partner who can match their energy and keep their trust.
9️⃣🏠
These individuals work hard and want a partner with whom they can share the fruits of their labor. They seek someone who aligns with their values, is interested in learning, and enjoys traveling. They want a partner who is intellectually compatible and shares their long-term goals.
1️⃣0️⃣🏠
For these individuals, relationships can be somewhat superficial, driven by the image of success they want to project. They look for a partner who can match their wealth and status, and the relationship often serves as an extension of their achievements. Depth and emotional connection are secondary to the image they wish to create.
1️⃣1️⃣🏠
Capricorns in this house are dependable and reliable, with many people who rely on them. However, when it comes to love, they can be unconventional and resist traditional commitment. They may have a hard time settling down and often prefer non-monogamous arrangements or casual relationships, finding it difficult to fully commit.
1️⃣2️⃣🏠
These individuals may find it challenging to truly connect with love. There’s a sense of distance, and they may feel used or as though their energy isn’t reciprocated. They often dream of romance but struggle to make it a reality. They may not fully understand how to express their love, and it can be difficult for them to find a partner who meets their needs in a practical way.
🅐🅠🅤🅐🅡🅘🅤🅢 🅥🅔🅝🅤🅢
How they love: Eccentric, unusual, and walking their own unique path, these individuals enjoy love on their own terms—free and intellectually stimulating. When it comes to love, Aquarius Venus operates in a realm of their own, and if you’ve ever encountered one, you’ll understand that they have a distinct and unconventional perspective on relationships.
1️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 1st house is bold and eccentric. They are different, and their approach to relationships is unique. They put themselves out there without hesitation and don’t mind doing so. They are straightforward and honest, simply wanting to get to know people and have fun. They tend to take relationships lightly, seeking intellectual stimulation and conversation, but always desiring freedom and space. They aren’t consumed by the relationship and are comfortable exploring a connection without feeling tied down, saying, “Let’s see where it goes.”
2️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 2nd house can be quite stubborn. When they like you, they like you deeply and are very committed to you, often acting possessive and clinging to your presence. However, they are equally stubborn about their beliefs and values. If you don’t align with them, you will quickly be cut off. They need their partner to share the same values and beliefs, or they will feel the need to constantly debate you, which they find exhausting. They prefer talking about their ideals, not debating them.
3️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 3rd house is a chatterbox. They love to talk, whether it’s at a bar, restaurant, or even bowling. Conversations are how they explore their thoughts and connect with others. They enjoy discussing their day, ideas, dreams, and goals. They expect their partner to listen and share their own aspirations as well. Intellectual connection is key, and they want to hear your take on things just as much as they want to share theirs.
4️⃣🏠
Homebody vibes with Aquarius Venus in the 4th house. They prefer staying in and cuddling up with their partner on the couch, talking about life and sharing their thoughts. While they may appear detached at first, they have an emotional side that they reveal once they feel comfortable with you. At first, they may seem cool and distant, but as the relationship progresses, they become warm, sentimental, and more romantic. They are surprisingly loving and comforting once you break through their emotional walls.
5️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 5th house is all about fun and play. They love to do things on a grand scale and enjoy sharing experiences with a partner. Whether it’s going to a shooting range or booking a spontaneous trip to Switzerland, they want their partner to be part of the adventure. For them, romance is fun, but they keep things light and don’t rush into emotional commitments. They prefer to play it cool and enjoy the moment, often maintaining an easygoing attitude toward relationships.
6️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 6th house can be a bit of a wild card. They are detached and may not focus on the details of the relationship, but they appreciate loyalty and presence. They tend to look at the bigger picture rather than sweating the small stuff. When you get close to them, you’ll learn more about their deeper values and desires. They may not commit easily, as they have high standards and need a partner who aligns with their ideals. They can be social and easygoing but reserve deeper emotional connection for those who truly meet their expectations.
7️⃣🏠
Aquarius Venus in the 7th house is all about giving and generosity. They want to shower their partner with love and attention. They have a lot to give but may struggle to connect on a deeper emotional level. They enjoy being around their partner and giving them the world, but they don’t want to get too emotionally involved. Their love is more about being present and offering their support without diving too deeply into emotional intimacy.
765 notes · View notes
clawsdevour · 5 months ago
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be over in 10
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wc: 0.4k content warning: post-timeskip, dating, suna x reader, suna's nuts for u, smut, phone sex, implied masturbation, not proofread
𓂅  ֹ⊹ ͏
Sitting down at your desk, a vibration felt through your pockets sending tingles down your leg, repeating it’s repetitive motion till you realized it wasn’t going to stop. ‘Can’t be a scammer if they’re spamming me like crazy…’ you pondered to yourself while you reach down to take your phone out.
‘Six missed calls from Suna..?’ Your text notifications read. Something must be up if he’s hopelessly calling for you, especially this many times in a span of nine minutes.
Immediately you press on the pop up to try and call him back, wondering what might’ve went wrong. The moment you held your phone up to your ear before the second ring he’d already picked up your call.
“Babe.. Where are you?” His husky deep voice resonated in your ears. Suna’s voice was.. Inconsistent. Like he was trying his best to speak despite being out of breath.
“I’m home. Rin, what’s going on? Why’d you call me so many times?” Responding urgently to not stall for time. On the other end, he’s taking a while to answer you back.
You could hear sounds that weren’t ordinary. It was as if there was something faintly making this sound that squelched in the background of the call. That was until you heard Suna’s voice lowly grunting.
“Rin! What’s going on?” you shouted on your side of the call. He’s unresponsive, but groaning as if he was in some sort of pain he’s been trying to resist. You could hear his deep but rapid breathing with the odd sound continuing in the background.
“Fuck.. I’m sorry,” Suna’s mumbling out, barely able to make use of his words. 
The sounds of the squelching increased in volume over the speaker, wet and moist at most. Suna’s trembling voice starting to show up on call. You can hear him gasping for air, a couple of soft moans that he’s fighting the urge from letting out.
“C-Come over..?” 
That's when it clicked. His needy, desperate body was jacking off to your voice. That’s why he called you in the first place, now you get it. You can’t help but giggle at this guy's mind.
“I’ll be over in ten Rin, stay on the phone unless you want me to keep teasing you.”
masterlist here
973 notes · View notes
shomatoriashi · 4 months ago
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10/19/24; 06:53pm
{ drabbles / headcanons }
[ they comfort you while you’re feeling insecure ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
warnings: dieting is mentioned in sylus’s story. if this is a major trigger for any of you readers, then you don’t need to read this story ♡
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it was such a mystery why sylus chose to be with you, of all people.
deep down, you knew he could pick any woman in the entire universe-
so why did he have to settle down with someone as plain as you?
why did you feel like a sack of potatoes while standing next to sylus?
why did the haughty laughter that came from the usual women sylus made business deals with affect you so much?
a particularly bad memory resurfaces, and you bite down harshly at your bottom lip, recalling a time where sylus had invited you to a business dinner with him. while he spoke about plans of expanding onychinus, the mafia boss’ daughter sneered at you, her slender yet curvaceous body made you feel worse about your own self image. you barely picked at your plate of food, knowing that you were far from being slender, and you became increasingly aware of how the curve of your abdomen could be seen from your tight dress.
needless to say, you didn’t have much of an appetite after that meeting.
with the memory of that woman’s sneer still fresh in your mind, you decided to diet a bit while cutting down the amount of foods you ate. you no longer snacked on your favorite sweets and tried to eat more steamed vegetables, avoiding carbs and proteins altogether. you figured since vegetables were like a superfood, then you’d be able to drop down some pounds and obtain a much better figure-
one that was more suited to remain by sylus’s side.
a week into your new diet, you did feel a bit lighter, and as you watched the pounds decrease, you had plans of further decreasing your calorie count-
however, sylus manages to put a hard stop to it. while you were making a simple dinner that consisted of a plain salad, sylus was felt sneaking up from behind you, trapping your form from behind him. you gasp and look up at him, feeling the way his large hand encircles around your wrist.
“s-sylus? what are you doing?” your eyes were wide, watching as he remains silent all while holding your wrist within the palm of his hand.
“you’ve lost some weight.” sylus tells you with his eyebrows furrowed. he takes a hold of your chin and forces you to look at him, “and don’t think for a minute that i haven’t noticed the change in your diet. although steamed vegetables and salads are good for you, they’re not enough to sustain you.”
hearing the concern in his voice makes you break down immediately. the hunger pangs came back to you at full force, making you wince as you land against sylus. “s-sorry, it’s just… i always feel so bad when i stand next to you.”
tears were streaming down your face, and sylus merely hums in response, taking you in his arms while allowing you to vent about your feelings.
“i-i’ve never really been too skinny… because of my appetite. and i guess… it’s just, being next to you and seeing all the women that’s part of your world- it bothers me how i’m not like them, and-“
sylus then silences the rest of your words with a searing kiss. he would not listen or tolerate you speaking down to yourself ever again, and as your lover, it was his responsibility to make sure you felt beautiful every single minute.
once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulls away from the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours while saying your name in an almost exasperated manner.
“there’s a reason why i never wish to be with those women, and that’s because they can never be you. i wish you could see yourself through my eyes and realize just how beautiful you are to me.”
tears began filling your vision, making sylus smile sweetly at you as he gently caresses at your hair, “you don’t need to do anything- to change anything about yourself. what i feel for you is, and always will be, something unconditional. so please, don’t starve yourself and cut out the nutrients you need. you need to eat a thick steak to build your muscles and maintain your energy. pasta and bread can help with filling you up, and i know how much you love sharing ice cream sundaes with me as well.”
feeling so grateful at having such a wonderful boyfriend like sylus, you lean up to press another lingering kiss against his lips, all while telling him, “ah, a steak with some buttered rolls and a salad sounds so good right now.”
sylus lets out a rich chuckle, pressing a kiss against your hair before heading towards the stove all while rolling up his sleeves, “you got it, sweetheart.”
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when you woke up this morning, you felt distracted by your reflection, feeling a shudder run down your spine at seeing the various acne that littered your face.
never one to have clear skin, you found yourself pouting at your reflection. as you looked at the new patches of acne settled against your cheek, you frown. it wasn’t like you didn’t take care of your skin. every night, after you showered, you always made sure to wash your face while keeping it moisturized while doing your usual routine-
yet that didn’t seem to be enough, as you always seemed to breakout at the most inopportune times. perhaps today was a bit more meaningful since zayne’s parents were going to stop by the house and have dinner with the both of you.
you had never met zayne’s parents before, and the fact that he invited them over just to finally meet you was both endearing and overwhelming for you. deep down, you were afraid that his parents would reject you, labeling you as beneath their son while harshly telling him that he could do so much better than you.
those self deprecating thoughts kept repeating themselves within your mind, causing you to panic. leaning closer to the mirror, you focused on the patch of acne and tried to pop each and every one of them. it felt like your hands kept clawing at your face, making your eyes water as you tried to get rid of the acne the best way that you knew how to.
you jump slightly upon hearing a knock at the door, hearing zayne’s voice calling out your name before entering the bathroom. he sees the tears in your eyes and how your fingertips were placed against the bumps seen on your cheek.
he frowns, shutting the door from behind him while taking quick strides towards you. “what are you doing?”
your lips began to tremble, giving zayne a defeated expression as you angrily wiped away at your tears. “s-sorry, i just… i feel so mad right now, with my face breaking out like this. and i’m going to see your parents soon, and i look like a mess. i’m terrified that they’re going to compare me to you and say that you deserve so much better-!”
zayne suddenly cuts you off by bringing you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight embrace while drawing comforting circles behind your back. you cling to him like a lifeline, allowing the tears to stain at the front of his shirt.
“don’t ever speak that way about yourself ever again.” zayne tells you in a whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple before framing at your face. he takes a moment to admire your features all while running the pad of his thumb against the patch of acne seen against your skin.
“these… don’t bother me at all. to me, you have always been achingly beautiful in my eyes. and that is never going to change. the whole reason i wanted to invite my parents over was so that they could meet you and know that i am serious about you- about us.”
he smiles down at you, taking in your cute pout before leaning closer to press a chaste kiss against your lips, “now, don’t pick at them anymore. give them some time to heal, and just make sure you wash your face every day to help.”
feeling immensely better now, you throw your arms around zayne, pulling him close as you giggled, allowing him to pick you up as he headed towards the walk in shower, “did you wish to shower together? perhaps then, i could show you just how beautiful you are to me.”
and truly, who were you to deny the love of your life?
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to say you were amazed at managing to capture xavier’s heart would be the understatement of the century. in fact, how you both met was under some unorthodox conditions.
you had simply been running errands when an outbreak of wanderers were seen just a few blocks away from you. you had unknowingly stepped into danger, and when you were close to get attacked by one of the monsters-
xavier had appeared before you, slashing away at the wanderer with his weapon. he keeps himself in front of you, not daring to move away from you until the threat has been eliminated. throughout it all, you were in a daze, simply admiring how swift and deadly xavier’s movements were as he dealt with the rest of the wanderers.
only when the coast was clear did he finally meet your gaze. “are you okay?”
you could only manage to give him a nod, ready to thank him when a stern voice breaks through, “xavier, is everything alright on your end?”
you look back to see a stern, but beautiful woman taking quick strides the hunter you assumed was known as xavier. he sheathed his weapon and gives the woman a slight bow. “yes, i’ve dealt with the wanderers here on the eastern part of the city.”
“good. i’ll go ahead and assess the damage with the others.” she runs a hand across her sandy brown hair, leaving you alone with xavier. trying to ignore your own features and how plain you felt in comparison to the woman, you thank xavier for protecting you before telling him you would head home.
the young hunter prevents you from leaving him, gently encircling his hand around your wrist. “wait, let me escort you home, just to be safe.”
seeing the way his sapphire eyes were shining brightly against the sunlight made your knees feel weak for him. giving him a stiff nod, you allow xavier to walk with you back to your apartment complex, convincing yourself that this would be the first and last time you would see him.
so imagine your surprise when he walks with you up to your apartment all while sweetly asking you if you’d like to go out on a date with him sometime. of course, you were filled with shock, remaining flabbergasted as you struggled to find the right words to say.
yet at the end of it all, you accepted his offer for a date. and one date turns into two dates, then three-
and you found yourself remaining together with xavier for close to a year now.
you couldn’t understand what xavier saw in you, since each time you would see xavier work at the association, you became achingly aware of how gorgeous his female coworkers were. this left you feeling a little more than inadequate, wondering why you agreed to be with xavier when he was surrounded by so many girls that were prettier than you.
and such thoughts were enough to render you useless, making you lay in bed for the entirety of the day. as you wallow in your thoughts, you heard your phone go off with your usual text tone. curious as to who was texting you, you look at your screen and freeze, reading xavier’s text:
hey, i got off early. u wanna hang out together? i’m free.
pursing your lips, you leave his text on read, tossing your phone aside before wrapping your blankets tightly around your form. a few seconds later, your phone goes off at least 5 more times, and you were certain it was xavier trying to reach you once more.
you remain in bed, dozing off here and there while wrapped up in your cocoon. you lost track of time, and stiffen when you heard the sound of your front door opening. feeling panicked now, you quickly sit up in bed, hearing footsteps walk into your apartment, revealing xavier just a few moments later with a bag of takeout in his hand.
“hey, i got worried when you didn’t text or call me back, so i figured i’d stop by and check on you.” xavier was frowning slightly, settling the bag of food on top of your desk before sitting on the bed with you.
you run a hand across your tangled locks of hair, “uhm, how did you get in here?”
xavier hums, reaching into the confines of his sweater to pull out your spare key settled on a lanyard. “you gave this to me during our four month anniversary, remember?”
you felt your cheeks heat up in response, leaning forward to gently trace at it. “y-you kept this on you all this time?”
xavier nods, all while gently gripping at your hand, “what’s bothering you.”
“nothing’s bothering me.” you tell xavier a little too quickly, making his frown deepen in response. he ends up tightening his grip on your hand. “that’s not true, and i want you to be honest with me.”
meeting his gaze, you could see the determination shining in them before sighing. “i…i feel really plain in comparison to the women you surround yourself with at the hunters association.”
you watch as xavier’s eyes go wide at your admission, yet still, you continue to explain to him, “i just… i feel like im not pretty enough compared to them. and it- it really is such a mystery why you’re here with me.”
xavier shakes his head for a brief moment before surging forward, giving you a searing kiss as his lips were perfectly slotted against yours. you moan into his kiss, allowing your fingers to delve into his hair as he deepens it.
once he was satisfied with the kiss, xavier pulls away from you, all while flashing you a gentle smile. he frames at your face once more and rests his forehead against yours, “the reason for me being here with you is simple, really, and it’s solely because i love you. you make me so happy, and i love being able to protect you while keeping you in my arms.”
“to me, no other woman can compare to you… and i like you best when you have no makeup on and are in comfortable clothes.” xavier smiles and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, “to me, you’re beautiful at all times of the day.”
feeling your heart soar thanks to his honest words alone, you fling your arms around your beloved, holding him close while basking in his kisses. and when he moves his kisses away from your lips and towards your features, you allow xavier to kiss away every insecurity that you felt.
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the whole world knew of how beautiful rafayel was-
and that was what sent your thoughts down into a spiral, with you wondering what he even saw in you to begin with.
your first meeting started out as nothing short of romantic. by some twist of fate, you and rafayel happened to frequent at the same café, and as you were scrolling through your phone while taking sips of your coffee, you became aware of a cute boy heading towards you from your periphery.
he smiles at you, amethyst eyes shining with amusement and mirth as he slides a torn piece of sketch paper toward you. on the paper was by far the prettiest rendition of your likeness that you had ever seen. you were honestly impressed by this young man’s talent and asked him if this was how he truly saw you.
he ends up nodding his head in answer to your question. “absolutely. you’re utterly gorgeous, and i knew i had to try and capture your features into my memories somehow. the name’s rafayel, by the way.”
despite your best efforts, you end up grinning widely at him while telling rafayel your own name. the young artist repeats it, as if tasting the syllables on his lips while leaning closer to you. “say, would you like to keep this sketch i made of you?”
“y-yes! i’d love to keep this!” you end up holding the piece of paper close to your chest, earning a rich chuckle from rafayel.
“if that’s the case, then you’ll have to pay for it; and the only payment i’ll accept is if you agree to go on a date with me.”
oh, this guy was a smooth one, and he had caught you-
hook, line, and sinker.
of course, you agreed to go on a date with him-
yet that one date was enough for rafayel to claim you as his girlfriend.
and you’ve been with him ever since.
rafayel was by far the sweetest, and most gorgeous man you had ever dated. sure, you had your bumpy moments-
but the love and happiness you felt with him was something that couldn’t be ignored. he was worth every ounce of your time, (even if he had a tendency to be moody and spoiled).
however, with your growing happiness when it came to being in a relationship with rafayel, there was a lingering sense of doubt as well. for starters, you didn’t look quite as perfect as rafayel did, with you having acne scars scattered throughout your body (mainly on your face and your back).
these lingering scars was what made you shy away from more loose fitting clothes, with you often wearing long sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep your lingering acne and scars hidden.
in fact, you hated them so much that you couldn’t stand to look in the mirror at times.
feeling anxious and unable to keep still, you decide to stop pacing around your shared bedroom, not wishing to distract rafayel as he painted his latest piece. grabbing a plush towel, you head into the bathroom and turn on the faucet of the walk in shower all while shrugging off your clothes in the process.
settling the towel off to the side, once you were bare, you get into the shower and remain beneath the shower spray, basking in the heat. you continue to remain motionless, all while resting your head against the slick shower wall.
you had no idea how long time had passed, and only jumped when you heard rafayel’s voice calling out to you.
“i heard you were in the shower for roughly half an hour now and got concerned, so i’m coming in.”
protests were heard coming from your parted lips, yet rafayel ignored every single one of them, tossing his clothes in a pile before entering the shower with you. his bright eyes remained filled with love for you when he grabs the bottle of body wash and places a significant portion on the sponge. with a hum of your name, rafayel slowly begins lathering the soap all across your form.
“what’s on your mind, princess?” you shiver, feeling your entire body relax as rafayel worked on cleaning your body. taking in a deep breath, you gather your thoughts for a moment before finally admitting to him, “i’m just… feeling really insecure. i keep thinking as to why you’re with me.”
rafayel stops washing your body to let out a scoff. “i’m insulted you feel this way. what do you even mean?”
“i-i mean, look at me, rafayel. i have lingering acne scars on my back, and i don’t have a face that would make people turn their heads to get a better look at me. i’m no ravishing beauty-“
rafayel then presses a lingering kiss at the back of your naked shoulder, making your breath hitch in response. he continues kissing you, trailing his lips softly against your skin as you felt his every touch on your back. as evident from his movements, it was clear that he was kissing at the acne scars that marred your back.
“do you remember the day we first met, and i had given you that sketch?”
you shiver in response, managing to nod in reply to his question. of course you remembered that day, how could you possibly forget what had to have been the happiest day of your life?
“that day, when i first saw you and how you casually sipped at your coffee, i was drawn to the soft and natural beauty you had. i don’t care about models or any other beauty standard that girls tend to follow. what drew me to you was how you seemed to exude a hidden kindness… and just… knew then that i had to capture your features and forever immortalize it in that drawing.”
he places one last kiss against your back before turning you around so that you could face him. tears were seen welling up in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop them from cascading down your face when rafayel frames at them. he caresses at your cheek while telling you, “you have always been the light of my life… and that’s never going to change, because in my eyes, no one would ever be able to compare to you.”
you clench your eyes shut and give him a nod, unable to speak to him due to how much your throat was felt clenching up in response. giving you one last smile, rafayel leans in to quickly give your lips a chaste kiss.
“now, how about we finish this shower, then later on, we’ll order your favorite takeout while watching a movie together.”
more than ready to experience such a fun and relaxing night with him, you give your beloved lemurian a nod before leaning even closer to his touch, allowing him to spoil you as his reverent caresses against your skin makes every insecurity you felt disappear in an instant.
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end notes: don’t mind me, i was feeling pretty low about myself and how i looked, and wrote a little something to help with comforting me 🥹 if any of you readers have similar insecurities, then i hope this fic comforted you as well ♡
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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rosemariiaa · 17 days ago
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~Caffeinated Crush~
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𐙚- pairing: Paige x Azzi
𐙚-synopsis: Paige works at a bookstore, and Azzi is the girl who comes in every day but never buys anything. When a spilled coffee incident occurs, she learns Azzi is sketching her in a nearby cafe.
𐙚- this is so cuteeeee, yes i am still currently working on chapter 3 of RMH so you’ll have that soon, but for now enjoy these cuties! happy reading lovelies 💌
𐙚-themes: fluff, au
𐙚- taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @imaginespazzi @pbaz7 @bueckersbitch @xxloveralways14 @d3arapril @lupinqs @pazzilover101 @ashortyluvsports @absolutelydreadful
enjoy!!!
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I should’ve never let Nika get in my head.
My thumbs hover over the screen of my phone as I scroll through yet another endless TikTok, airpods blasting maybe the best R&B playlist handpicked by the queen. Anyway, the store is empty—of course it is. It’s barely 10 a.m., and no one is running to a bookstore this early unless they’re sixty or a morning person.
Not me, though. I’m here because Nika decided to call me lazy last week and the whole team agreed. Said all my NIL deals made me too comfortable, like I didn’t just have the Big East Scholar of the Year award, not to be cocky or anything but doesn’t that mean i’m smartest to ever exist? Exactly. But no, she just still had to run her mouth, so now I’m working this dumb part-time job at “Bound and Brew,” where the only exciting thing is the smell of cinnamon wafting in from the café next door.
Speaking of which, I mentally add a bagel to my lunch break checklist. Asiago, toasted, extra cream cheese—don’t judge me.
I glance at the clock on my phone. Still early. My chin rests in my palm as I lean on the counter, half-heartedly refreshing the store’s Instagram page. No new likes. Big surprise. God, I have practice tomorrow, and for what?
My earbuds buzz with a notification, but before I can check, the door chimes.
My eyes flicker up, and there she is. The girl with the brown, coily hair.
She’s been coming here for weeks now. Never buys anything, just walks around, poking through shelves like she’s on some personal treasure hunt. I’m pretty sure she works at the café next door—I always see her there, either taking orders or perched by the window with a book in one hand and a green matcha latte in the other. Matcha. It’s alright, I guess, but I can’t help the silent judgment. gatorade > tea.
Her eyes meet mine as she steps inside, and I clear my throat, pulling out one earbud. “Hey, what can I do for you?”
She smiles softly, the kind of smile that’s more polite than warm. “You’re fine. I don’t need help yet.”
Her voice is quiet, soft enough that it almost doesn’t match the confidence in the way she carries herself. She’s bundled in a gray puffer coat, her pink sweatpants tucked into winter boots. The UConn shirt under her jacket catches my eye.
She goes to my school? Weird. I’ve never seen her on campus.
I nod, going back to my phone, but I can’t help the way my eyes track her as she moves through the store. Her hands graze the spines of books, pausing occasionally to pick one up, read the back, then put it back in place.
She doesn’t rush. There’s something careful about the way she lingers in each aisle.
I shouldn’t be looking (staring) at her like this.I really shouldn’t, but her hair is just…nice. Thick curls that spring with life, framing her face like something out of a painting. And her skin? Smooth, glowing, the warm tone almost golden under the soft overhead lights.
Wow. I’m really gay.
I snap my attention back to my phone, pretending to scroll. My heart’s doing that annoying thing where it skips.
When I glance up again, she’s at the door. Leaving already. She didn’t pick up a book or anything again.
The door chimes softly as it closes behind her, and I’m left staring at the empty space where she just stood.
She’s really, really pretty.
And just like that, I’m shaking my head, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Get it together, Paige.
This is supposed to be a job, not some secret queer daydream.
By the time my lunch break rolls around, I’m practically counting down the seconds.
The café next door is my safe haven. Warm, cozy, and always smelling like cinnamon and espresso. It’s everything the bookstore isn’t. I step inside, stomping the snow off my sneakers, and head straight for the counter.
There’s no line, which is a small miracle, but then I see her pretty face again.
Brown curls, her same shirt, pink sweats, and those same bright eyes. She’s standing behind the counter, tying an apron around her waist.
Oh.
I knew she worked here! Scholar of the year i told you.
“Hi,” she says when she spots me. Her voice is just as soft as before, but there’s something about the way she looks at me that makes my stomach flip.
“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound casual. “Can I get an asiago bagel, toasted? Extra cream cheese.”
She nods, her hands already moving to jot down the order. “Anything to drink?”
“Just a black coffee,” I say. “Simple.”
She glances up briefly, the corner of her lips quirking like she’s amused. “Simple’s good.”
Her gaze lingers a second too long, and I feel the faintest heat creeping up my neck. There’s something about the way she’s looking at me, like she’s trying to figure me out but doesn’t want me to notice. I definitely noticed.
I glance at her name tag, needing some kind of distraction. “Azzi,” I murmur under my breath. It suits her.
She catches me looking, her cheeks tinting the slightest pink as she fiddles with the pen in her hand. “It’ll be ready in a minute,” she says quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Thanks, Azzi.” Her name rolls off my tongue easier than I expect, and the way her eyes widen just a little makes it worth it.
Azzi ducks her head, pretending to check the order screen, but I can see the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. She’s shy, reserved even, but there’s something so genuine about the way she carries herself. It’s almost refreshing.
As I wait, I glance around the café, the hum of chatter and clinking mugs filling the space. A few students are hunched over laptops in the corner, and there’s an older couple sharing a slice of cake by the window. The atmosphere is cozy, intimate, like something out of a movie.
“Bagel and coffee,” Azzi calls softly, placing my order on the counter.
I step forward, and for a split second, our hands brush as I reach for the tray. Her fingers are warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside, and I swear I see her inhale sharply before quickly pulling away.
“Thanks,” I say again, trying to meet her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. She hesitates, like she wants to say something else, but instead, she bites her lip and busies herself wiping down the counter.
As I turn to leave, I catch her glancing at me again, her gaze lingering on my face before quickly darting away.
I smirk to myself, holding back a chuckle. So she does notice me.
Sliding into a seat by the window, I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes drifting back to Azzi. She’s leaning against the counter now, flipping through what looks like a notebook, nah definitely a sketchbook. Her curls bounce slightly as she moves, and there’s a faint smile on her lips, like she’s lost in her own little world.
For some reason, it’s hard to look away.
I finish my bagel way too fast, but instead of leaving, I sit there for a while, pretending to check emails on my phone while sneaking glances at her. She’s busy now, taking orders and chatting with customers, but every once in a while, her eyes flicker over to me.
It’s subtle—barely noticeable—but it’s enough to make my chest tighten.
When I finally get up to leave, I make a point to walk past the counter.
“See you around, Azzi,” I say, letting her name hang in the air.
Her head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Yeah, uh—see you,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing as she fumbles with a stack of napkins.
I chuckle to myself as I step back into the cold, the warmth of the café lingering in my mind.
This job might not be so bad after all.
The next morning, Paige finishes practice, her muscles aching but her mind buzzing with anticipation. She now knows Azzi works morning shifts, and though she tells herself she’s just stopping by for breakfast, there’s no denying the extra pep in her step as she drags Nika along with her to the café.
As they walk in, the comforting aroma of coffee and freshly baked goods fills the air. Paige’s eyes scan the room, immediately finding Azzi at the counter, focused on a stack of receipts. Her heart skips a beat.
Paige shrugs off her hoodie, tossing it onto the back of a chair at an empty table by the window. She and Nika sit down, glancing over the breakfast menu. Paige tries to act casual, but Nika, ever observant, leans in.
“Calm yourself down and find something to get.” Nika pipes up.
“Shut up,” Paige mutters, burying her face in the menu.
Just then, Azzi glances up and notices them. Her expression softens, and she waves, a shy smile spreading across her face.
Paige beams back, her cheeks tinged pink as she waves back.
“Hi,” Azzi greets, approaching their table. Her soft voice makes Paige’s heart flutter.
“Hey,” Paige responds, a little too quickly.
“What can I get you guys?” Azzi asks, pulling out her notepad.
“I’ll have eggs and a croissant,” Nika says, glancing between Paige and Azzi with a knowing smirk.
“I’ll take some pancakes,” Paige says, handing Azzi the menu.
Azzi jots down their orders and looks up. “What would you like to drink?”
“Orange juice,” Nika answers.
“And—” Paige starts, but before she can finish, she and Nika both say in unison, “Coffee, black.”
They burst into laughter, and Paige sneaks a glance at Azzi, whose dimples appear as she smiles.
“Got it,” Azzi says, gathering the menus and walking back toward the counter.
Paige’s eyes linger on her retreating figure, her gaze drifting downward until Nika snaps her fingers in front of her face.
“Yo twin, is that the girl you keep talking about in your sleep?”
Paige’s head snaps toward Nika, her eyes wide. “What? In my sleep?”
Nika leans back, smirking. “Yeah, I heard you last night saying her name over and over again. ‘Azzi, Azzi,’” she mimics, feigning a dreamy voice.
Paige’s face flushes. “Shhh! I don’t—whatever, I just say random stuff when I’m sleeping.”
“Sure, sure,” Nika says, winking. “But you keep staring at her. And she keeps looking over here.”
Paige shrugs, slipping into her usual cocky demeanor. “Well, I mean, it’s me. Can you blame her?”
Nika rolls her eyes. “Cocky ass.”
A few moments later, Azzi returns with their food. She sets Nika’s plate down first.
“Thank you,” Nika says with a grin.
As Azzi places Paige’s plate in front of her, she hands her the coffee. But before Paige can grab it, another worker bumps into Azzi from behind, sending the coffee spilling onto Paige’s shirt. Azzi stumbles forward, gasping as she falls right into Paige’s lap.
“Yo!” Paige snaps, turning to the worker. “Can’t you watch where you’re walking? You just made her fall.”
The worker mumbles an apology and scurries off as Azzi scrambles to her feet, her face burning red.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Azzi stammers, her voice shaking.
Paige brushes it off, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. But I do need a new shirt now.”
Azzi looks stricken. “I—I think I have an extra one in the back. Come with me to the bathroom?”
Paige stands, turning to Nika, who is smirking like the Cheshire Cat.
“Shut up,” Paige warns, flipping her off as she follows Azzi.
In the bathroom, Azzi motions for Paige to wait while she fetches a shirt. As soon as she leaves, Paige peels off her stained hoodie, leaving her in a sports bra and sweats. She grabs a paper towel, wets it at the sink, and wipes the remaining coffee off her stomach.
When Azzi returns, she pauses for a moment, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly hands Paige a black t-shirt.
“Sorry again,” Azzi murmurs.
Paige grins as she pulls the shirt over her head. “You’re good. Thank you.” She smooths the fabric and gives a playful twirl. “See? Good as new.”
Azzi giggles, her dimples deepening.
Paige’s expression softens. “You have a really pretty smile.”
Azzi ducks her head, her cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she says softly. “We should probably head back before my boss notices.”
“Lead the way, Miss Azzi,” Paige says, motioning dramatically toward the door.
As Paige returns to the table, Nika raises an eyebrow. “Everything good?” she asks, smirking.
“Shut up,” Paige mutters, sitting down.
Once they finish eating, Nika and Paige pack up to leave. As they’re about to walk out, Paige glances around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Azzi. When she doesn’t see her, she sighs and heads for the door.
Just as she steps outside, she feels a light touch on her back. Turning, she finds Azzi standing there, holding a folded piece of paper.
“Hey,” Azzi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to say sorry again about your shirt.”
“I told you, it’s okay,” Paige says, smiling. “Things happen. And I love my new shirt.”
Azzi smiles nervously, then holds out the paper. “Okay, um, don’t think this is weird, but it kinda is? but it’s also- anyway I wanted to give you this.”
Paige takes the paper and unfolds it, her eyes widening at the detailed sketch of herself.
“Woah,” she breathes.
Azzi shifts on her feet. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I just did it for fun.”
Paige fakes a pout. “And here I thought you did it because you liked me.”
Azzi blinks, her cheeks flaming. “Well… that too,” she admits quietly.
Paige grins, her confidence swelling. “This is so good I could literally kiss you right now.”
Azzi’s voice drops to a whisper. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
Paige steps closer, her hand cupping Azzi’s cheek as she leans in. Their lips meet, soft and tentative at first, before deepening into a kiss that leaves them both breathless.
When they pull apart, snowflakes drift around them, settling in their hair. Paige grins. “So, if I asked you on a date right now, would you sketch me again?”
Azzi laughs, her dimples showing. “Maybe.”
“Pretty please?” Paige pleads, pouting dramatically.
Azzi rolls her eyes playfully. “Fine fine. Since you’re begging.”
Azzi glances over Paige’s shoulder, spotting Nika in the distance, pumping her fist in the air and yelling, “Go gays!”
“Isn’t that your friend?” Azzi asks, raising an eyebrow.
Paige groans, dragging a hand down her face. “I don’t know her.”
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dollwrites · 7 months ago
Note
Can I put in for the smut prompts a 10 with either chifuyu, baji, or kazutora. Honestly whichever character serves your muse more is good with me 😁
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, sex toys ( dildo + bullet ), riding, baji seeing his girl get down like a pornstar for the first time ( heart eyes lol ), very very minimal dumbification, belly bulge, oral sex ( m!receiving ), all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀 ∣ prompt # ten // finding your sex toys and making you use them in front of him
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he’d fucked you before. plenty of times.
you’ve even ridden him before. plenty of times.
but this was more erotic than Baji could’ve ever imagined. maybe that was why he couldn’t stop staring, one hand shoved deep in his pants, palming a growing erection. “Come on, baby,” he moans, gripping his own bulge through his boxers and squeezing tight, before rubbing in eager, deliberate circles, “ride that dick for me.”
you mewl, and brace one hand on the floor behind you, your body angled back, breasts jiggling out of the sagging neckline of your top. you were half dressed, with your panties and shorts still draped around your right ankle, and your shirt pulled down to show Baji your tits and how they bounce in hypnotizing circles. you’d never been in this position before, knees bent up and spread wide, balancing on the balls of your bare feet as you grind and ride the silicone cock you were regretting leaving where your boyfriend could find it. your ass smacks against the cold, hardwood floor each time you bottom out— a stark reminder that the dick was not attached to Baji, but suction-cupped to the middle of the floor while he loomed over you, practically drooling at such a sight. “Th-this is.. really… just for when you’re not home, ya know…” you offer, and run the small, humming vibe over your tender clit, sending a tremor through your thighs. “Ffffuck,” it’s a shaky curse, and you nearly pull the bullet away. your walls were clamping around the slick, fake dick so tightly that it had your eyes threatening to cross from how good it felt to be filled.
“But I’m here right now, and I wanna see you fuck it.”
Baji’s eyes practically bulge from their sockets, stroking his clothed cock harder and faster. his ego had blown up the second he’d seen the toy you had— as close to his own length and girth that you could possibly get without molding it directly from his body. even the olive tone was close to his own complexion. and watching you handle every inch, the way your hips oscillate to meet the base— it was as if he were watching you fuck him from angles he’d never been able to see before now. “Turn it up,” he growls, the pointed and pearly canines peeking out from beneath his top lip, his eyes zeroed in on the small bullet buzzing against your clit. you were already soaked, and the pointed tip skids across your sensitive bud as it makes a schlicking noise. “There’s gotta be a higher setting. I wanna see your brain melt, baby.”
you suck your lower lip between your teeth and hold it there, whining as you nudge the button on the bottom of the toy with your thumb until the whirring gets louder, and the vibrations are almost painful. your brows knit together, your knees shaking. they’re cramping and desperately trying to clamp shut. you’re hardly hovering over the floor, rocking your body back and forth parallel with it, and the silicone cock bends to accommodate this position, the chubby head bulging against your lower belly each time it pushes against your spongy walls. “Baji…!” you cry out his name, as you typically do when you’re about to cum, and you stare up at him, your mouth hanging open.
it was all the invitation he needed.
“That feel good, baby? Taking cock like a pretty, little pornstar for me?” two steps and Baji has planted his heavy boots on the floor on either side of your waist. his pants were wrenched down his thighs in seconds, his boxers following, and he was grabbing his hard cock and shoving it into your mouth before you could react, his free hand fleeing straight to the back of your head to guide you forward just enough to welcome the first few inches in. you take initiative shortly after, bobbing your head, slurping and sucking on as many thick inches that you could fit in your mouth without gagging. Baji howls loudly, mouth wide open and head dropping back. he was already half way there before he got into your mouth, but now that you were sucking him off so vigorously, he was oozing precum and twitching like crazy. throbbing against your tongue. his hips rock forward, feeding you another inch. “Don’t stop riding for me, baby,” he whispers, hoarse already, both hands gripping your hair at the roots. he doesn’t force your head, or even urge you into a new rhythm, he just needs to be able to feel you. to hold on to you while you pleasure him and yourself. “I want you to cum, just like this, ahhh,” Baji sucks in a heavy breath and exhales shakily, “both holes plugged and your little clit nice and puffy, all for me…”
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heli-writes · 6 months ago
Text
A dragon's heart, part 14.
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, marking, trauma symptoms, trust issues
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Note: Y'all I'm back from the beach all crispy and tanned. Finally found some time and inspiration to continue this.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first day, y/n didn't leave the tent because of spite (and the immense pain that radiated off the wound in pulsating waves). The second day, she didn't leave the bed cause she felt as if she'd faint if she tried to get up. By the third day, y/n developed a fever that made it impossible for her to move at all.
Katsuki watches over her with a worried gaze. He's in and out of their shared tent trying to balance his business and his mate. He orders the healers to have a close look at her. When the head healer comes to speak with him while he’s fulfilling his duty, he knows that something is wrong.
“The infection spread. She’s having a high fever. I’ve already sent some of our men to look for fresh herbs to make a fever-reducing medicine, but that can only help so much. We will be giving her cool calf compresses throughout the night. You might want to stay with her tonight.”, the healer explains.
Katsuki feels as if his heart stopped for a millisecond. He only gives the healer a short nod. It might seem cold and emotionless towards others, but the truth is that Katsuki doesn’t trust his voice.
After that, he adjourns the meeting with his men and returns to y/n’s bedside. Some healers are busily swirling around the small tent, soaking cloths in cold water and pulling them around y/n’s legs. 
Katsuki delicately holds y/n’s hand as if her hand would turn to dust like a dried flower when you crunch it too hard. He stares at her chest which heavily goes up and down. Despite her obvious troubled breathing, y/n barely lets out a sound. He’d take her yelling at him over this eery silence any day.
“Bakugou.”, a voice rips him out of his thoughts. Kirishima stands at the entrance of the tent. When Katsuki gives him a sign, Kirishima carefully enters his leader’s private quarter.
“How is she?”, Kirishima asks carefully standing behind him. Katsuki doesn’t turn around to meet his eye. 
“The fever’s bad but the healers are working on it.”, he tells him.
Kirishima stays silent. Katsuki does not need to explain y/n’s condition further. Fevers are tricky things. They come in slowly and when they hit, they’re hard to get under control. Katsuki’s own father perished due to the same infection that took out most of his tribe’s women. He understands better than anyone just how quickly a simple infection can take someone’s life.
“She will pull through.”, Kirishima encourages him. Katsuki’s lips form a firm line. When Katsuki doesn’t answer, he adds: “That one is a strong one. She’s a fighter”.
“So was my father. So were many of our women.”, Katsuki tells him.
“This is not the same, you know that. They were sick and y/n has only an infected wound.”, Kirishima points out.
“And how many warriors have we lost because of that?”, Katsuki presses. Kirishima stays silent. He wishes his leader would be less of a realist sometimes. It’d be easier to cheer him up in dark moments.
The entrance of the tent is moved once again and Mitsuki enters. She gives the healers and Kirishima a sign to leave her alone with her son.
“Have you come to gloat, mother?”, Katsuki bites venomously. Mitsuki gives him a long, unidentifiable look.
“I do not wish this upon you or… her.”, Mitsuki says. Katsuki doesn’t look at his mother either. Instead, he observes how y/n’s eyelashes cast a slim shadow onto her undereyes.
Mitsuki sighs deeply and sits down next to him.
“Son… I know how you feel. Remember, I’ve lost your father the same way.”, she reminds him. When Katsuki doesn’t answer her, she continues.
“Maybe it was inevitable. We’ve lost other women before her. These women you bring in are not suited for life in the mountains. They’re often too weak to survive the harsh winters out here. It’s not their fault their bodies are weak. They do not carry the same hot blood as we do. The blood that also makes our wounds heal faster.”, Mitsuki tells him.
“Others survived the mating. So will she.”, Katsuki says determinedly. It’s something he’s not sure of, something he didn’t even believe only seconds ago when Kirishima pointed out the same thing. Maybe he's just saying it to defy his mother. He’s aware of how fragile y/n is compared to women of his tribe. It’s why he fears the worst.
Mitsuki looks at her son for a long time before putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Son, I know this is not what you wished for, but maybe it’s for the best.”, she tells him. Harshly Katsuki yanks his shoulder back and shoves her hand away.
“That my mate dies days after she became mine? How is that for the best?”, Katsuki whisper-yells. The healers must still be outside the tent.
Mitsuki pulls back her arm. “She’s not suited for this life, to be a strong leader by your side. It’s best that it happens so early before you’re too attached to her.”, Mitsuki says compassionately and it just makes Katsuki just more angry.
“If she dies, I will not take another mate. As it is custom.”, Katsuki harshly points out.
“In our situation, no one would question you breaking traditions.”, Mitsuki replies.
“I don’t care.”, Katsuki barks and grips y/n’s hand tighter. There’s no one else for him besides her. He made his choice, he knew the implications.
Mitsuki sighs and gets up. “We’ll see.”, she only says calmly and turns around to exit the tent leaving Katsuki alone sitting at y/n’s side.
~*~*~*~
Everything lies in a hazy fog. Y/n is sure she can make out Katsuki's face in her distorted vision. Something hot runs through her stomach. Is it anger? She can't remember what she should be angry about. Then maybe, she's wrong. Her vision fades and Katsuki's face becomes blurred. Maybe it was never Katsuki to begin with?
„Brother!“, y/n calls out through the mist.
Is he here? Has he come to take her home? Back to mother and father and their little wagon in the woods?
Soft voices reach her ears. The strum of a guitar is somewhere far away alongside a soft voice. A familiar melody comes forward in her consciousness. Her tongue feels heavy as she tries to sing alongside her mother's lullaby.
Someone strokes over her hot, wet forehead.
„It's alright little one. Rest now.“, her father's voice says close to her ear. Relief floods her anxious thoughts and y/n relaxes. I'm safe, y/n thinks.
„Don't worry, my love.“, her mother says from her other side, „It's just a cold. You've played too long in the snow with your brother.“
Right, of course. Y/n remembers. It snowed in the night and y/b/n and her snuck out of the tent before their parents woke up. They built a snowman and made snow angels. When her mother saw the two of them barefoot in the snow, she shooed them back inside and made them sit by the fire with a blanket and a hot cup of tea. Y/n fell asleep on her brother's shoulder.
Y/n leans into the hand that strokes her forehead.
„Brother, stay with me.“, she begs but she isn't sure if she only says it in her head. Dirty blonde hair shuffles through her hazy vision. Someone holds her hand. Y/n lets out a shaky breath.
It's alright. Y/b/n is here. You're safe., she thinks as she fades into a dream of snow-capped forests, frozen lakes and her brother's laugh in the distance.
~*~*~*~
Kirishima watches his leader with worried eyes. Y/n has been drifting in and out of consciousness all night. The moments that she's been awake a dull haze covered her eyes. She's been trying to speak but the words hardly leave her throat.
The hazier her gaze gets, the glossier Katsuki's gaze becomes.
Kirishima places a hand on his friend's shoulders. There's not much they can do right now. The healers are still changing the calf compresses every ten minutes or so, trying to cool down her body as much as possible. Behind Katsuki's back, the head healer told him that y/n either makes it through the night and will live or not. Kirishima didn't have the heart to tell his friend, but he's sure Katsuki knows without anybody telling him.
Y/n lets out a shaky breath and tears shimmer in her eyes. She calls out a name. She's been repeating the name for some time now. Katsuki just holds her hand a bit tighter.
„I think it's her brother.“, Kirishima tries to calm his friend, „I don't know much of her language but I think she's been saying the word for brother earlier“.
„I didn't even know she had a brother“, Katsuki says quietly.
„Maybe he isn't with her anymore. When the veil between the living and the dead is thin for a person, they often call out to those that went before them.“, Kirishima offers and almost instantly regrets bringing up death in front of his friend.
„Or maybe I ripped her away from him and now she has to die alone surrounded by strangers.“, Katsuki flatly points out.
For a moment, Kirishima doesn't know what to say. Of course, that's a possibility too. But until now that has never mattered when they took women. The survival of their tribe always came first for Katsuki. He didn't think much about the women's families. Kirishima was never sure whether Katsuki was so cold that he didn't care or if Katsuki didn't allow himself to care about it because it was expected from the leader of the tribe.
„Promise her to find him.“, Kirishima says without thinking. Katsuki turns his head back to him.
„What?“, he asks and Kirishima only nods. He doesn't offer his leader an explanation. Katsuki turns his head back to y/n and stares at her struggling form for a while before ordering Kirishima to leave them. Wordlessly, Kirishima leaves the tent.
Katsuki takes a long look at y/n before taking her hunting knife that she always keeps close. Carefully, he cuts a fine line into the inside of his hand. He watches the blood pushing through the cut. He takes a long look at y/n's face before pressing his bloody hand to her heart.
„If you survive tonight, I, Katsuki Bakugou, son of Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou, promise to find y/b/n and to let you go with him if you so please.“
~*~*~*~
There's the faint sound of metal hitting against each other and men clamoring in the distance but the tent lies in absolute silence. Y/n struggles to regain her vision for a couple of moments. She's feeling groggy and terrible. For a split second, she believes she's in her parent's tent.
Then, she remembers where she is. This is Katsuki's tent. Her head throbs from the lack of water. Her hand flies to her forehead and she puts it over her eyes in an attempt to milder the hammering feeling in her head.
She's been sick. She remembers waking up multiple times. She remembers waking up to unknown men pouring a thick, bitter fluid down her throat and a cool piece of cloth placed onto her head. She remembers waking up to Katsuki leaning over her watching her with furrowed, worried eyes. She remembers her brother's face in her periphery. Y/n wonders how much time has passed since Katsuki cleaned her wound. And for a very short moment, she wonders if her brother actually found her.
Quickly, she discards the idea. It was probably a fever dream. Something her imagination came up with in an attempt to calm her struggling body and mind. Y/n feels hot tears burning behind her eyes at the thought making her head feel worse.
Her hand flies to her throat where the wound is still wrapped in a tight bandage. She realizes that her head feels worse than the wound. Actually, she barely feels the wound at all. She wonders if it healed or if everything else just feels worse.
Groaning, y/n tries to sit up. I need water, she thinks. When she moves, there's a twitch of a body at her side. Only then she notices Katsuki who lies next to her face down. He's clutching her other hand. Katsuki groans and turns over letting go of her hand. Quickly, y/n pulls it away from him.
Katsuki stretches and turns his head to her.
When he notices that y/n is awake, he jerks up. His head spins for a moment from getting up too quickly. Immediately he sits up and pulls y/n close. He hides his face in her hair. Y/n let it happen and suddenly her heart feels heavy with grief. Grief, that her brother isn't here, that she's still stuck here, and that Katsuki hurt her when she was ready to trust him all the way.
It's impossible to hold back tears anymore and they stream down her cheeks and onto Katsuki's arm as he holds her. She wants to push him away but at the same time, she longs for the warmth and comfort Katsuki offers her right now. She wants to be held, wants him to pet her hair and tell her everything will be alright. And most importantly, she wants to believe him.
When y/n looks up, Katsuki is watching her with sorrowful eyes. Carefully, he wipes some tears away and his gaze falls onto the bandage on her throat. Softly, he traces the wound beneath the bandage and then carefully leans closer. Y/n's breath hitches a bit but she's too weak to pull back. Softly, Katsuki presses a kiss onto the bandage right where he hurt her not too long ago.
Katsuki's hair tickes her chin and y/n stares at the wall of the tent behind him. Katsuki's hand softly traces patterns onto her arm as he continues to hide his face at her throat. He's so soft right now that y/n wonders what possessed him to hurt her in the first place.
When Katsuki notices that y/n doesn't struggle against him, he pulls back and looks at her. Y/n holds his gaze. There's no fire or anger behind her eyes. Just exhaustion. Slowly, he leans forward, presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her close. Y/n can't help but lean into his touch. She's been feeling so alone. How can she refuse Katsuki's touch right now? She's too worn out physically and emotionally to fight him or the burning want in her stomach to be comforted by him.
Katsuki puts his hand into her hair and pulls his face closer to his. Y/n continues to hold his gaze. She can see worry, sadness and regret shimmering behind them. Maybe also something like relief. His nose grazes hers and she can feel his breath on her lips.
Katsuki is desperate to kiss her right now but he doesn't move forward. He's not sure if he's still allowed to touch her like that.
Y/n wants to be angry with him like she was before the fever took hold of her. She wants to yell and scream at him. At the same time, she wishes for nothing more than for him to close the gap between them and kiss her. But she's too exhausted to do anything other than lay still in his arms.
She wonders if she’s going mad. If she’s suffering some mental illness that makes her love a man who hurt her, wonders if maybe she’s always been mad like this which led to all her bad decisions. Or if the death of her parents and the loss of her people made her mad like that.
Y/n is ripped out of her thoughts when Katsuki’s lips softly graze hers. It's that moment that she decides that she doesn’t care and that it doesn’t matter.
I dug my own grave, now I have to lay in it.
Before Katsuki can realize what is happening, she closes the gap between them and kisses Katsuki deeply.
For a moment, Katsuki is frozen. He struggles to understand y/n's ever-changing emotions and actions. Only a couple of days ago she looked at him as if she wanted to murder him. He decides that he doesn't care and that it doesn't matter. Not after almost losing her.
He pulls her closer so that her entire body is pressed against him. He reciprocates the kiss and kisses her as deeply as he can. He tries to pour all the words that she doesn't understand into this one kiss.
They kiss until they can't breathe anymore and they need to pull apart. Katsuki softly pushes a greasy strand of hair out of her face, but it's stuck to her sweaty forehead. He offers her a small smile because he's not sure if this means she has forgiven him.
When y/n sighs and leans against his forehead, relief finally floods through his body.
My mate didn't reject me.
He pulls her into his arms and engulfs her with his much larger frame. Y/n leans into him and Katsuki pulls the blanket over them. They can stay here for a little while longer. At least until one of the healers comes in with another portion of this god-awful syrup.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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ghostgirl-22 · 25 days ago
Note
this came to me in a dream. 30s dilf pat with early 20s art. penny for your thoughts?
My thoughts are de-aging the slutty blonde to give Patrick an entirely new and added age gap complex. On top of everything else… wait is that not what we’re all thinking? 😭😭😭
CW: 18+ !NSFW! Age gap 10-11 years, obviously don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. Slight teacher/student iffy power dynamics Yes, he’s a slut here again and a bit of a brat. But he’s more in control of it.
——
It’s not really Art’s fault. He doesn’t even mean to do it. He doesn’t need a lot of attention. Just a little. A fun little buzz and he’s a bit of a mess. He once accidentally made out with his big sister’s boyfriend, um ex-boyfriend. Jackson. Accidentally spent 30 minutes dry humping him in his bed before she caught him. She was so pissed at him, called him a slut. But it was an accident. It wasn’t his fault Jackson started rubbing his leg under the table and Art lost his mind a little.
He doesn’t even really like boys. Well not all boys. Well not really. Okay maybe some. He’s crushing hard on his Stanford tennis coach at the moment. Coach Zweig. He’s a lot older but so fucking hot. Bearded, tall, with skin that’s all golden in the sunshine. Everyone says he’s loaded and he just does this for the hell of it. Because he used to play for Stanford a million years ago before he got injured and he can’t let it go. He’s dating tennis superstar Tashi Duncan. “They’re practically married.” Everyone says.
He’s too fucking hot. He always wears shorts that are too fucking short, when he sits on the bench during practice, manspreading while he chats with the assistant coach, sometimes Art swears he can see the outline of it and he feels dizzy.
Art would normally give up. Maybe consider it futile if it weren’t for the way he sometimes catches Coach Zweig staring at him. Especially when he’s flirting with one of his teammates. Sometimes with a faraway look on his face. But when Art catches his eye and winks he’ll smile and roll his eyes looking away.
It’s also in the way it feels like he can barely stand to be near Art. His body goes tense, and he’s suddenly a bit less casual than he always is and the tips of his ears go all red whenever Art openly flirts with him. He’s always praising Art amongst the group (and of course he is, Art’s number one singles and the best player on the team) but whenever it’s time to give him feedback, he always tells Coach Meg to do it for him. Like he’s afraid to stand too close.
So basically it’s not Art’s fault. He did sneak into the club with his friend but it was a gay club. And Coach Zweig isn’t gay so Art didn’t expect to see him there. Art isn’t gay either but he’s a good friend. And it’s not just because he gave said friend a hand job and nothing else.
It’s fine. His friend has moved on, he’s making out with some senior, lips locked like they’re ready to go home. It’s almost 1 am and Art’s a little drunk, everybody’s been so nice… buying him drinks. He’s starting to feel a little guilty for sort of blowing them off after. He’s normally into it… into the flirting but he sees Coach Zweig all the way across the room. Talking to some guy. A blonde. Leaning into his ear, rubbing his waist. Art bites at the rim of his glass.
He’s dizzy. Dizzy. Really fucking dizzy. But he makes his way over. Coach Zweig spots him before he approaches.
He smiles but not with his eyes as he shakes his head. “What the fuck?” he says as Art leans next to him on the wall. One of his favorite things is how much Coach Zweig, no Patrick, swears. He doesn’t know why but hearing his potty mouth turns Art on.
“Hi coach,” he grins.
"Who' s this?” Patrick’s blonde friend gives him a look.
“One of my players, I’ll catch up with you,” Patrick says to him.
The blonde man glances at Art and then shuffles off.
“He’s cute,” Art grins.
“God you’re fucking 19 how the hell did you get in here?” Patrick hisses, when they’re alone.
“I’m not 19.”
“What—twenty?”
Art nods, smiling.
“How good is your fake?”
“Really good,” Art says, leaning closer. “Want me to buy you a drink?”
Patrick smiles. Art can’t help but notice the way his eyes fall over Art’s body. He’s in this sleeveless black shirt, he borrowed from his friend and fitted blue jeans. “You like it?” Art asks.
”You’re too young, Donaldson,” Patrick says. “There are plenty of little 22 year olds over there.” He gestures vaguely to the other side of the room.
Art bites down on his grin and leans even closer. It’s not all in Art’s head. God, Coach Zweig is actually attracted to him. He’s in shorts and a t-shirt. Khaki shorts, that scream 30 something soccer dad on a family vacation. Art wants to see about the outline of it that he’d sometimes glimpse when Patrick’s in his training shorts.
“I think I’m drunk, can you take me home?” Art asks, intimating shyness.
“God,” Patrick looks up at the ceiling and then takes a breath. ”You came here alone?”
“No but my friend left me alone so he could go get fucked,” Art tells him softly, emphasizing the word. “You know I’ve never been fucked before?”
Patrick chuckles and takes a step back. “I can’t take you home, but I can help you get a cab.”
“Did you come here alone?” Art asks. “Patrick.”
“Yeah… let’s get you that cab.”
Art hiccups. He really, really doesn’t want to mess this up. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“It’s okay,” Patrick says, he’s gentle. “How about… we don’t talk about this at the next practice? I didn’t see you here…you didn’t see me.”
Art nods his head. “Okay coach, but I really do feel a little buzzed and I’m only a few blocks away. Please. It’s all wet and rainy outside. I don’t want to wait for a cab.”
Patrick stares him down, like he’s mentally arguing with his better angels.
“Pretty please,” Art asks again.
He takes a breath. “Yeah… okay…fuck it. I’ll drop you off and I’ll come back.”
“Thank you so much!” Art says lightly.
Patrick tells his friend to wait for him and the friend gives Art a side eye, to which Art grins in response.
They hurry outside and get wet in the rain because his jeep is parked in the back of the lot. “How buzzed are you? This is fucking irresponsible, you know that right?” Patrick asks once they’re inside and he’s powering the car on.
“I’m tipsy,” Art says. “All these guys were buying me drinks… and I felt like I couldn’t say no. But I only had a sip of each one.”
”You can always say no,” Patrick says, gently.
“What if I don’t wanna?”
“Mm yeah… alright kid.” He shakes his head, gentle tone gone.
Art smiles. “Is that guy in there— is he your boyfriend?”
“Donaldson.”
“You can just call me Art,” Art says, he leans against the headrest staring at him. His dark hair is damp to his forehead from the rain.
“We’re not gonna talk about this.”
Art shrugs. “I think it’s hot… but what about Tashi Duncan? Isn’t she practically your wife?”
Patrick stops the car in a new spot. “Maybe we should get you that cab?”
Art keeps staring at him. “Okay, and I can wait for it…in your car.”
“You’re unbearable,” Patrick mutters.
“Why?” Art asks. “I’m just one of your players.”
Patrick snorts a laugh and turns to look at him. “Tashi is fine. She knows I— I do things like this when she’s on tour.”
“Things like the guy who looks like me?”
“He doesn’t fucking look like you.”
“I mean he’s old.”
“He’s 31.”
“Yeah old.”
“I’m 31.”
“So like… does it take you a long time to get hard?” Art asks softly, gazing down at his lap.
Patrick takes a breath and faces front again, shifting gears, “Jesus Christ, okay, that’s enough.” He pulls out of the lot.
“I feel like I can’t stop it. Mine’s hard all the time,” Art sighs, fidgeting in his seat. “Like when we’re in practice. And you're in those short shorts.”
“You need to stop.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I don’t want to.”
Patrick rubs his palm along his thigh and then grips onto the gear shift again. “If only you were this sure of yourself on the court Donaldson,” he says, it stings a little anytime he criticizes Arts playing. He was great before the injury. A lot of the team think he’s just saying stuff like that… an old man reminiscing about his glory days but Arts seen old tapes of him playing. He knows. Patrick Zweig was a fucking animal on the court.
He’s watched them a lot. Sometimes in the dark with the volume up and his hands down his pants.
“Maybe if you’d correct me yourself instead of always leaving me to your assistant I’d be better.” Art sighs. “But you can’t be alone with me.”
”That—“ Patrick laughs, that low chuckle, it makes Art’s insides feel like liquid. “That’s not true.”
“It’s so true. We can’t be alone. You can barely stand to be around me because you want to fuck me so bad. Mm not even 21 and you’re terrified just cause you wanna stuff your big old cock in me.”
“Jesus…” Patrick swallows. “I can write you up actually,” he says, he sounds desperate. “I can get you fucking kicked off the team.”
Art hesitates a minute. Then touches his thigh. He shifts his leg like Art’s palm is hotter than a frying pan, but his cock is clearly visible just under the lining of his khakis. “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you do.” Art says softly, biting his lip.
”Fuck,” Patrick breathes, white knuckling the wheel. They’re at a red light. ”You don’t… you don’t even fucking know what you want. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says weakly.
Art plays with his tongue in his mouth for a minute and then leans in close to Patrick’s ear, hands grabbing his upper thigh just over where his cock is resting. God it’s massive and Art can feel it still fucking… growing. He swallows. “I want you.”
“Jesus… you’re gonna ruin my fucking life.” Patrick whispers.
Art grins, and presses his lips to Patrick’s throat. Kissing and sucking there.
“Shit, you can’t… you can’t mark me,” he whispers.
“Mmkay,” Art breathes, he’s still rubbing along the outline of his cock. It’s not just long, it’s thick. Art’s whole body is lit up. He’s never had one inside him before. His roommate’s come close a few times but Art always made an excuse to get him to stop. Now he’s anxious and he can’t stop thinking about it.
“You want me to give you head while your driving?” Art whispers, licking his lips.
“Shit… That’s fucking dangerous sweetheart, just… just hold on. I’m gonna stop.”
“Kay.” Art says, shifting in his seat all warm for the “sweetheart”. He’s so fucking horny. His hand is getting sweaty for how hot and hard Patrick’s cock is underneath it. He plays his finger tips along the outline of the tip and Patrick groans. It’s the hottest fucking sound.
“Fuck, I know…” he gasps, “give me a second. Gonna take care of you.”
Art starts mouthing at his throat again. Sucking. Probably leaving marks. He can’t help himself. He barely notices it when the car stops except for when he feels Patrick’s fingers in his hair. “Oh god. You’re gonna make a fucking mess out of me. You gorgeous fucking thing.” Patrick breathes.
Art finds his mouth. His beard tickles scratchy and soft on Arts bare face. He tastes like honey flavored cough drops and cigarettes. Even the way he smokes is so fucking sexy. Just bored, lazy, casually sexy. Keeps one on his lips while he’s lazily tossing a tennis ball across the court with his racket. Art’s pushing his tongue inside searching all over his mouth, soft and heated. Feels Patrick’s tongue and presses his own against it. Teasing it, licking it while Patrick teases him back. Patrick’s hands are all over him, fingers tangled in his hair.
Art attempts to get at Patrick’s zipper so he can reach his hand inside and feel him for real but Patrick pulls him back when Art starts to moan.
“Fuck,” Patrick whispers, eyes all sparkly, he’s cradling Art’s face in his hands. “You’re so fucking… so fucking bad for me.”
Art licks his lips, gazing into his pretty eyes. “Can I suck it?” Art asks, softly.
Patrick teases his fingers back into his hair. “You ever suck dick before?”
“Mmhm, my friend begged me to in the back of the cab after we dropped off his girlfriend.”
Patrick exhales. “God. You sure do know how to make friends…. Fuck… go ahead… yeah you can suck it.”
Art grins and moves to get on his knees. He can hardly wait. He’s tugging at the zipper, inhaling as much as he can of Patrick’s scent strong, heedy, masculine, nose pressed in his pubic hair as he drags Patrick’s boxers down.
His cock pops out and holy shit, Art’s never had one this big in his mouth. He’s so fucking perfect and full. Art licks at it right away. Almost like if he doesn’t Patrick will change his mind and tell him he’s gotta go home. He does everything he knows how to do. Licks along the underside, pearls of pre-cum are already leaking out and he’s shivering because he knows it’s him that’s fucking causing this. He’s the reason Patrick, his coach, his fucking hot coach is so aroused. He licks at the tip and Patrick groans.
Art starts feeding it into his mouth, taking as much as he can.
“Oh fuck,” Patrick inhales. “Oh sweetheart… it’s… god… take it easy. Fuck.”
“Wanna make you come,” Art says, except he’s talking with his mouth full so it’s probably not even distinguishable as words. He’s swirling his tongue around the tip, his mouth is so full and so wet and he can hear Patrick breathing. Trying not to moan.
Art can’t help himself. He needs to jerk off, he undoes his fly with one hand and reaches into his pants. This is the sluttiest thing he’s ever done. And he’s been pretty slutty. He lets it slip and slide in and out of his mouth, sucking and licking and swallowing till Patrick can’t hold anything back.
“Mm you drive me fucking crazy… flirting with all your teammates and all I can do is watch them play with you…” He groans. Fingers pulling at Art’s hair. It’s not seconds later that Art begins to make a mess in his pants jerking himself to completion as he moans with his mouth full of Patrick’s pulsing cock.
“All that gum chewing, even though I fucking beg you everyday to spit it out before you come to practice. Then you start sucking on your filthy fingers and all I can fucking think about is your pretty pink lips stretched around my… fuck.” He starts coating the inside of Art’s mouth with hot wet liquid. Spurts of it filling him, one after the other as Patrick groans breathlessly and Art swallows as much as he can. He pulls back gasping, skin fever warm, watching some of it drip obscenely from lips onto the console. So much fucking hotter than anything he imagined.
Patrick brushes his thumb over Art’s mouth wiping off the excess come, Art takes the thumb in his mouth looking up at Patrick while he licks at it.
“Jesus Christ, I’m so fucked,” Patrick whispers. He slips his thumb out and takes hold of his cock, it’s flagging a bit but not completely soft yet. He eases it back into his pants.
Art is aware of where they are now. An empty Target parking lot, not far away from campus. He pushes himself up from the floor and scrambles onto Patrick’s lap. He feels the steering wheel at his back, one knee driving uncomfortably into the seat belt holder but it’s worth it for the way Patrick starts rubbing him, reaches into Art’s pants and sighs. “Fuck… You were touching yourself sweetheart?”
“Mmhm,” Art hums. Patrick pulls him into a kiss no doubt he can taste himself and he doesn’t even care. Makes Art just want him even more. “I have wet dreams about you all the time,” Art says giddy against his lips.
“Mm do you?”
“Mmhm. Can I come over?”
“God.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Patrick plays with his t-shirt. ”How many boys have fucked you?”
“You can be my first. I’m a really fast learner.”
Patrick takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes. He rests his head back against the chair. “I’m um— I’m gonna take you home. And you’re gonna be a good boy,” His fingers are under Art’s shirt now, warm fingertips on his bare tummy, playing with the waist band of his boxers. “No more teasing… no more… flirting, especially at practice. And if you’re good… if you’re really fucking good…”
Art bites down on his inevitable grin. “Mmhm?”
“I might be here next weekend. My house might be empty. And I might let you come over.”
“I can be so good for you,” Art says, wiggling on his lap.
“God… you’re so fucking good at that…” Patrick says softly. “That’s exactly the type of behavior that needs to stop.”
Art grins as Patrick grabs at him at the waist and lifts him off his lap onto the empty passengers seat. “Put on your seatbelt.”
“Yes sir,” Art says giddly.
“You’re not going to get anything next weekend, are you?” Patrick mutters pulling the seat up and starting the car.
“Mm not if I can get it tonight and next weekend.” Art grins.
Patrick rolls his eyes, smiling and accelerates out of the parking lot.
207 notes · View notes
tallulah477 · 1 year ago
Text
Pretty, But Not Stupid
Extra of Hunting the Tawtute
Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play
Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader
Word Count: 3.8K
Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war
A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.
A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡
A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)
Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.
**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**
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Translations:
Vrrtep - Demon
Tawtute - Human
Sevin - Pretty
Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther
(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators
Mawey - Calm
Narlor - Beautiful
Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there
Srane - Yes
Yawne - Beloved
Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)
Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor. 
“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”
“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”
The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.
“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”
But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up. 
They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day. 
Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off. 
When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot. 
Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff. 
“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”
Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent. 
“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”
Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human. 
“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .” 
What does that mean for me?
“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.
Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind. 
“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you. 
“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout. 
“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”
“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”
But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half. 
You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”
He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun. 
“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”
You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”
Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”
The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management. 
It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’. 
Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close. 
“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it. 
“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”
“Yes, you are,”
Another headshake. “No,”
Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.
“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”
Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is. 
Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”
Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”
“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”
And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .
In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost. 
It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.
There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face. 
Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest. 
Scenting you. 
“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”
“W-what?”
His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does. 
He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.
“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”
You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens. 
He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth. 
The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek. 
“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”
Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs. 
Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy. 
He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit. 
You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva. 
When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.
“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”
Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.
“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”
A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again. 
“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”
“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.
His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent. 
“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”
You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him. 
You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines. 
Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.
At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one. 
He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets. 
Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is. 
Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”
Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear. 
“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”
His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine. 
“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”
**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey
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vshiftsss · 7 days ago
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I SHIFTED. - (SUCCESS STORY)
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YUP. YOU READ RIGHT.
i can finally say this, with confidence (even though i’ve shifted to parallel realities before). i shifted to yet another parallel reality, and it didn’t even take much. i moved multiple times throughout the method, i was barely concentrated, and i definitely changed up what i was doing halfway through, yet i still shifted! so if you still think that ruins the whole experience and prevents you from shifting, get that thought out of your head. don’t force yourself to be uncomfortable just because you think moving or changing up your strategy fucks up the whole thing.
IT DOESN’T, FREN. Trust yourself.
anywho, time to get into exactly what i did last night, and what resulted from it.
so, around 1 am, i finally got into bed after playing some games and starting my hogwarts dr script. obviously, with my horrible sleep schedule, i did not immediately go to sleep. i did my nightly scroll on tumblr just to get motivated, and while i was reading i found this one method to get into the void. it’s called the pendulum method. i found it in a post by @pineapplepr1nc3ss888 so go check it out! essentially, you visualize a pendulum swinging back and forth, and you move your eyes left to right while they’re closed; basically a form of self hypnosis.
I remember being on my phone until around 1:14 am. This is pertinent.
when i finally decided that i wanted to get into the void state (because that was my initial intention), i put on a hogwarts express ambience video and started doing that method. it took no time before i started losing feeling in my hands. my body felt like it was sinking down into my mattress, and i felt pins and needles on the back of my whole body.
then…i got uncomfortable.
i was kinda laying like a stereotypical outline of a cartoon dead body. you know, one arm up, one arm down kinda deal. my elbow got sore, and i got up to move when the video was at 44:45. i glanced at the time, and guess what it was?
1:39 in the fucking morning.
“val, what does this have to do with anything?”
i’ll tell you. remember when i said i was awake at 1:14 am? if we do some math, we’ll see that there was no possible way i could’ve been awake at 1:14, because the ambience video would started at 12:55 am. maybe even 12:54. but i VIVIDLY remember looking at the time at both 1:10 am and 1:14 am.
so, in conclusion…I SHIFTED!
to further prove this, today i went into english class for the first time since the very first class we had. the two classes after that, i was sick, and every class after that, my teacher canceled. i manifested that!
but today, while i was in class, my teacher mentioned something that we talked about on monday. which is weird, considering i remember seeing that class was canceled again on monday. hmm…seems like another sign i shifted. just saying!
anyways…thank you for coming to my TED talk. i will be trying that pendulum method again!
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BYE! HAPPY SHIFTING!
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stargazsblog · 1 month ago
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how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.3 second move
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ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.
ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.
ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys
masterlist
note: new chapter! this one took awhile to write but i hope u love!! happy new year <3
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The ring of the doorbell jolted you awake, pulling an annoyed groan from your lips. You turned over in your bed, calling out, “Shoko, can you get the door?” Your voice was muffled against your pillow, and you waited, hoping for the sound of her footsteps.
Nothing. No response.
The doorbell rang again, this time louder. You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing off the blankets as you dragged yourself out of bed. “Seriously, Shoko?” you muttered under your breath, shuffling to your bedroom door. You made your way to the front door, each step heavy with sleep-induced annoyance.
When you opened the door, the sight before you gave you pause. No one was there.
Your gaze dropped to the ground.
A massive bouquet of roses sat on your doorstep. You blinked, momentarily stunned.
“What the…?” you murmured, crouching to pick up the bouquet. It was heavier than you expected, the delicate scent of roses filling the air.
Closing the door behind you, you carried the flowers into the living room, setting them down on the table. Shoko, now leaning against the kitchen doorway with a steaming mug of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow at the sight.
“What’s with the flowers?” she asked, taking a sip.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, still staring at the extravagant bouquet. “Maybe they’re for you?”
Shoko shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t think so. Check for a note.”
Spotting a small envelope tucked among the flowers, you pulled it out and opened it. Your stomach flipped when you read the words.
“thought these were almost as stunning as you let me know if they compare – sukuna”
You felt your heart skip a beat as you stared at the note. Sukuna? Your brow furrowed in confusion. Why would Ryomen Sukuna, of all people, send you flowers?
“Sukuna?” you repeated aloud, more to yourself than Shoko.
“How does he even know where we live?” you asked, a mix of confusion and suspicion in your voice.
“Oh… I may or may not have taken Geto home the other night. And he might have told Sukuna where we live.”
Your head snapped toward her, eyes wide. “What?! You hooked up with Geto? And you didn’t tell me this?”
Shoko shrugged nonchalantly, setting her mug down. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time. It was just a fling. No big deal.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “No big deal? Shoko, this guy knows where we live! Do you know how creepy that is?”
“Relax,” Shoko said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your distress. “It’s not like he’s lurking outside your window or something. He just… sent flowers.”
You groaned, sinking into the chair next to the table. “Great. Just what I needed. First he buys me snacks and now he’s sending me flowers? What’s his deal?”
“Maybe he likes you,” Shoko teased, her grin widening.
You shot her a glare. “That’s not funny.”
“No, but this whole situation is.” She chuckled, You had barely had time to response when your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming message from Ryomen Sukuna.
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers hovering over the screen. Was he really texting you already? What could he possibly want now?
You unlocked your phone, bracing yourself as you read his message.
12:20PM Sukuna Ryomen: so how’d you like the flowers?
You frowned. So he’s really going to go there? You glanced over at Shoko.
“Shoko… Sukuna just texted me.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your discomfort. “Well, well, look at that. He’s not wasting time.”
You glanced back at the message, unsure whether to ignore it or respond. You couldn’t help it, this was unexpected. After a few seconds, you typed out a reply.
12:20PM You: why did you send them? what do you want?
You hit send and sat back, unsure whether you’d made the right call. It felt a bit too direct, but you didn’t care.
Your phone buzzed again, and you jumped slightly, then glanced down at his response.
12:20PM Sukuna Ryomen: no need to overthink it i just thought you deserved something nice
“What does that even mean?” you muttered aloud.
You typed out another reply, trying to keep your cool.
12:21PM You: just a random act of kindness then? what’s the catch
You waited, feeling the tension rise as you glanced at Shoko, who was still watching with amusement.
The text pinged almost immediately.
12:21PM Sukuna Ryomen: no catch just thought you might like them unless you don’t then I’ll send you something better
You stared at the message, your stomach doing a strange little flip.
“Okay, now he’s just being cocky,” you said, shaking your head, showing shoko the text.
Shoko stares at your phone, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “That’s the fun part. He’s definitely interested.”
You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. Great. What was happening here? You barely knew Sukuna. Sure, everyone on campus knew who he was, the tall, cocky heartbreaker, but you’d never even had a proper conversation with him.
Now, suddenly, he was everywhere. Sending flowers, finding excuses to cross your path, and even inviting you to parties. It wasn’t normal.
Your chest tightened at the thought. Something is definitely going on… and you don’t like it.
What did Sukuna even want? Was this just another conquest for him? Another name to add to his list?
“Earth to you,” Shoko’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality.
“You’re overthinking again.”
“I’m not overthinking,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “I just don’t get it. Why me? He could have anyone on campus, and he usually does. So why is he suddenly obsessed with showing up in my life?”
Shoko shrugged, but her smirk didn’t waver. “Maybe he finally met someone he can’t figure out. Guys like Sukuna hate not being in control. You’re probably driving him insane.”
“Good,” you shot back quickly, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. Sukuna wasn’t just annoying—he was persistent, calculating, and way too good at getting what he wanted. And right now, you were in his sights.
And that was a problem.
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"Shoko, please, I don't wanna go," you begged, standing at the doorway of your room as she rummaged through your closet. The hangers clinked together as she shifted through your clothes, her focus unwavering.
"I swear, if you don't go to this party, I'll never let you live it down." Shoko's voice was light, teasing, but there was a persistence behind it that you knew well.
She wasn't going to give up until you were dressed and ready to walk out that door.
You flopped down onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. "I already went to one party yesterday, and nothing happened. What's the point of going again?"
Shoko pulled out a short black dress and held it up, eyeing it with approval. "Except this time, you've got Sukuna inviting you."
You threw your arms up in frustration. "Yeah, so what? It's not like he actually cares. He's probably just doing this to mess with me. I'm not his type, and I'm definitely not falling for whatever act he's putting on."
Shoko leaned against the wall, unbothered by your complaints. "I'm not saying you have to fall for him, but you're not going to get anywhere by avoiding him. He's clearly paying attention to you, and you're not going to know what he's really about unless you go and talk to him."
You sat up on your bed, staring at her in disbelief.
"Why does it matter? I don't want to deal with him. I don't want to go to another party just to have him act like he's the center of the universe."
Shoko grinned like she knew exactly how to push your buttons. "Because, whether you like it or not, you've got his attention. You're not going to find out anything if you keep running from him. Plus, if you don't go, he's just going to think you're scared."
You slumped back onto your bed, exhaling deeply. "I just don't want to make a fool of myself."
Shoko walked over and sat next to you, nudging your shoulder. "Look, I know he's a pain. But you're strong enough to handle him. If you don't go, you'll just be left wondering what could have happened, and that'll drive you crazy. You don't want to keep playing the ‘what if' game forever."
You stared at her, your frustration building. "So, you think if I go, he's just going to magically be less of a jerk? What if he's just messing with me like he does with everyone else?"
Shoko chuckled softly, standing up and holding up a dress. "I'm not saying he'll be perfect, but you'll never know unless you show up. And if he really is that bad, then you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you weren't the one falling for it."
You sighed, the thought of facing Sukuna again making your stomach turn. But part of you couldn't help wondering what his deal really was. "I just don't want to deal with him."
Shoko raised an eyebrow. "Then don't deal with him.
“Go, enjoy yourself, and don't let him have the power to bother you. He invited you for a reason, and if you don't show up, he'll just just bother you even more."
You hesitated, chewing on your lip. You didn't want to go, but the idea of leaving things unresolved with Sukuna was nagging at you. "Fine," you muttered, finally giving in. "But don't say I didn't warn you when I end up miserable the whole time."
Shoko grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.
"I knew you'd come around! Now, get ready. We're going to show him how hot you are!"
You stared at the dress in your hands, running your fingers over the sparkly fabric. It was shorter than anything you'd ever worn before, the tightness of the material hugging your curves in a way you weren't used to.
With a deep sigh, you headed to your bathroom to change. The tight fabric clung to your skin as you slipped it on, the black dress glimmering with every movement. You didn't feel like yourself in it, but there was no turning back now. The dress barely reached mid-thigh, the hemline sitting just above your knees.
It showcased your hip dips, and the sparkle caught the light, making you feel exposed.
You stared at your reflection, arms crossing over your chest as you tried to will the discomfort away. The dress was beautiful, but it felt like it was wearing you instead of the other way around. You pulled at the fabric slightly, wishing it were a little looser, but it was perfectly fitted-almost like it was designed to demand attention.
You turned back to the door, hearing Shoko's voice coming from the other side. "You almost done?
“Come on, hurry up!"
You sighed and opened the door, stepping out into your bedroom. Shoko immediately turned to face you, a pleased grin crossing her face as she took in your appearance. "See? you look fucking hot.”
You glared at her. "I hate how tight this thing is," you muttered, tugging at the edges. You still couldn't get over how exposed you felt.
Shoko tilted her head, her eyes scanning you up and down. "You look sexy. And don't even try to pretend like you don't know it. The dress is doing all the work for you."
You shot her a side-eye, clearly not convinced. “It's too... much."
"It's not "too much,” she said with a playful smirk, grabbing the black heels she'd given you. "It's exactly what you need. Go, have fun, and let Sukuna see that how hot you are. You're owning this look, whether you want to or not."
You hesitated, staring at your reflection one last time.
The dress did make you look... different. More confident. Maybe it was the sparkle that made you feel like you could shine, even if you didn't want to.
You slipped on the heels, feeling your posture shift as you stood taller. You looked at Shoko.
"You better not make me regret this.”
Shoko grinned, “I won't promise. Now, let me put on some makeup.”
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The music was already thumping when you and Shoko walked into the house, the bass rattling the floor beneath your heels. The place was packed, people swaying to the beat or crowded into clusters, shouting over the noise. You tugged at the hem of your dress, still feeling self-conscious as you followed closely behind Shoko.
Shoko grabbed your wrist and pulling you off to the side, away from the thick of the crowd. "Listen," she said, her tone softer now. "If you're not feeling it, just let me know, and we'll leave. I'm not going to make you stay if it gets to be too much, okay?"
You hesitated, her seriousness catching you off guard.
"Okay," you muttered, glancing around the room. “But don't disappear on me."
Shoko grinned, patting your arm. "I won't. You've got this."
Before you could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the noise, making your stomach drop.
"Well, well, you actually showed up."
You turned to see Sukuna. He looked really good, dressed in a fitted black shirt that showed off his toned arms and just enough of his tattoos to make him look effortlessly cool.
You immediately stiffened, your guard going up.
"Unfortunately," you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, the smirk on his face only growing wider.
"Don't sound too excited, sweetheart," he teased, his eyes briefly flicking to Shoko before returning to you.
He let his gaze sweep over you, slowly, his tongue running over his lips as he did. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me."
"Maybe I was," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.
Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly self-assured. He took a step closer, his gaze dipping ever so slightly to take in the curve of your dress before flicking back up to your face. The way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, made your skin heat—though whether it was from irritation or something else, you weren’t sure.
“Can’t blame you,” he said. “But you’re here now, and that’s what matters, right?”
You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here for you.”
“Sure,” he drawled, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world. “You just happened to show up to the party I invited you to, wearing that.”
Your jaw tightened, and you squared your shoulders. “What I wear has nothing to do with you.”
“Doesn’t it?” His voice dropped, the playful edge replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes roamed over you again, lingering just long enough to make you want to punch him.
“Don’t test me, Sukuna,” you snapped, your voice sharp enough to make Shoko glance between the two of you with raised brows.
He grinned, utterly unbothered by your tone. If anything, he seemed more amused, like he enjoyed riling you up. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m just saying you look good.”
“Did I ask for your opinion?”
“No,” he said easily, his smirk widening. “But you’ve got it anyway.”
Shoko cleared her throat, her expression caught between amusement and concern. “Well, this is fun,” she said lightly. “But I’m going to grab a drink. You good?”
You gave her a tight nod, watching as she disappeared into the crowd. The second she was out of sight, Sukuna closed the gap between you, his presence immediately overwhelming
Sukuna glanced at Shoko walking away, then back to you, his gaze softening just a little, but the cocky smile never wavered. “She didn’t get you a drink?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.
“No,” you replied dryly.
Sukuna stepped closer, his closeness almost making you take a step back, though you tried to stand your ground. “I could get you something. Whatever you want.”
“I’m fine,” you repeated, your voice tight. “And I didn’t ask for anything from you.”
“Sure you didn’t.” He chuckled, and there was something almost teasing in the way his eyes lingered on you. “But that dress? You’re asking for something.”
You tensed, resisting the urge to snap back. “I came here to hang out with my friend, not to be ogled by you.”
He stepped back, feigning mock hurt. “I’m just admiring your taste in fashion. But I’m guessing you didn’t come here to be sober all night either.”
And he was right, you knew how annoyed you’d be with Sukuna, so you figured you’d need something to take the edge off.
You gave him an unamused look. “I’m not your project to fix.”
“Maybe not.” He shrugged. “But I’ll be around if you change your mind.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, a girl approached from the crowd, her voice dripping with flirtation.
“Sukuna,” she said, her voice laced with sweetness as she placed a hand on his arm. “I missed you last night. You just left without saying goodbye.”
Her gaze shifted toward you, and her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sized you up. “Is this your girlfriend?”
Sukuna simply shrugged. “Nah,” he said dismissively, like it didn’t matter. “Not my girlfriend.
The girl didn’t seem to care, her smile staying in place as she leaned a little closer to him. “Well, maybe tonight, you’ll stick around longer,” she said, her voice sweet as she twirled a lock of her hair.
But Sukuna didn’t seem all that interested in her attention. With a casual flick of his wrist, he lightly pushed her off his arm, not even looking down at her. “You’re in my way,” he said, completely nonchalant.
The girl blinked in surprise but quickly recovered. She didn’t seem to know how to react, standing there for a moment before scoffing and walking away, muttering under her breath.
You couldn’t help but notice how effortless Sukuna had been in dismissing her. He didn’t even look bothered, and it almost seemed like the girl was just an annoyance to him.
Turning his attention back to you, his smirk was back, as if the whole encounter had been nothing more than a brief interruption. “Jealous?” he asked, his voice low and playful.
You arched an eyebrow, trying not to let your annoyance show. “Not even close,” you replied, crossing your arms.
He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing just enough to show that he wasn’t buying it. “That’s a lie, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone.”
You stepped back, uncomfortable under his gaze, but refused to let him win this little game. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing,” you said firmly, your voice steady.
Sukuna tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I’m not playing a game,” he said softly, the words almost too quiet for the music around you to drown out.
The tension between you two was noticeable, thick enough to cut through the noise of the party around you. And for a moment, neither of you spoke, just standing there, locked in this strange, unspoken understanding.
Before you could respond, Shoko suddenly appeared next to you, a drink in her hand. “You okay?” she asked, looking between you and Sukuna.
You let out a breath, forcing yourself to relax. “Yeah, just fine,” you said quickly, turning your attention to your friend.
Sukuna didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he just nodded, as if he was used to things playing out this way. “Don’t let her scare you off,” he said casually to Shoko, though his eyes were still on you.
Shoko shot him a playful look before leaning in closer to you. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not falling for his charm,” she whispered, making sure Sukuna could hear. “But you seem to be handling it just fine.”
You smiled at her, grateful for the brief distraction. Sukuna didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes said everything. He wasn’t done with you yet. With a scoff, he turned and walked away.
“Here,” Shoko said, handing you the drink. “You probably needed this.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, still feeling a little intimidated from Sukuna’s attention.
Shoko noticed this. “What happened? Was he being a little too much?”
You sighed and leaned against the counter. “You could say that.”
“Is it really that bad?” she asked, leaning in to talk more quietly. “I don’t know. I think you’ve got him curious.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m interested,” you shot back quickly.
Shoko shrugged, not at all fazed by your response. “I know, I know. But still… he’s kind of hard to resist, right?” She gave you a sly smile. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you about Geto. He’s been texting me all day. I’m honestly not sure what I’m doing with him anymore, though.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you two were just having fun?”
“Well, we are, but… you know how it is.” Shoko waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Sometimes he acts all detached, and then he’ll show up out of nowhere like everything’s normal. He’s confusing, honestly.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Shoko had always played it cool, but it was clear she was a little unsure of where things stood with Geto. You didn’t press the issue, though, since you knew she’d tell you when she was ready.
Before you could respond, Gojo’s voice cut through the noise of the party, casual and upbeat as usual.
“Well, look who it is. The mysterious Shoko!”
You turned just in time to see Gojo walking over, his sunglasses perched on top of his head and that ever-present grin plastered on his face. He had the kind of confidence that was almost irritating, but you couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Hey, Gojo,” Shoko said, barely looking up from her drink. “You know I don’t like being called mysterious.”
Gojo chuckled, leaning in a little too close as he looked at you. “Oh, and who’s this?” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Shoko, you’ve been holding out on me?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Not at all,” you said, keeping your tone light but firm. “I just don’t usually run in the same circles.”
Gojo let out a loud laugh. “Fair enough. But, if you ever decide to upgrade your circle, you know who to talk to.” He flashed a wink, then finally noticed your drink. “I’ll get you something better,” he said, turning toward the bar.
“Don’t bother,” you replied dryly. “I’m fine.”
Gojo just gave you a nod, understanding, and turned toward the crowd, disappearing into the throng of partygoers.
“Sorry about him,” Shoko muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s harmless.”
Just then, Geto appeared, his presence a quiet different to Gojo’s loud antics. His gaze immediately found Shoko, and his expression softened, the tension you saw earlier melting away as he moved closer. Without saying a word, he slid an arm around her, pulling her in gently.
“Hi, babe,” Geto said quietly, his voice carrying just the right amount of affection.
“Hey,” Shoko responded, smiling up at him. “You surviving the chaos?”
“Barely,” Geto replied with a chuckle. “But it’s worth it now that you’re here.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. Even though you’d only just found out about their ‘relationship’, it was nice to see them together
“it’s good to see you,” Geto said, finally turning to face you fully. His smile was polite, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it did when he looked at Shoko. “Shoko’s mentioned you a few times.”
You nodded, unsure how to respond. “She probably talks a lot about you, too,” you said, knowing it was a lie. Shoko had only mentioned him once.
Geto chuckled, though his expression was unreadable. “I’m sure she does. She’s not the type to hold back.”
Gojo cut in, grabbing a drink off a nearby table and offering it to you with a bright smile.
“Come on, take it,” he insisted. “I’m trying to make sure you’re having a good time.”
You glanced at Shoko, who gave you an almost unnoticeable nod, as if giving you permission to go along with it. After a brief moment of hesitation, you took the drink from Gojo.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice steady despite the slight tension in the air. Gojo grinned, completely unfazed by the moment.
“Anytime,” he said, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Just don’t let Shoko keep you all to herself, alright?”
You nodded at his words, glancing away as your eyes searched for Sukuna. It was strange that he wasn’t with his friends. As you scanned the room, you finally spotted him in the corner with a girl. Before you could make out what was happening, Geto let out a small cough, drawing your attention back. His voice was quiet but steady as he spoke again. “So, how have you been? I don’t think we’ve really had a chance to talk much.”
You blinked, surprised by his sudden shift in tone. “I’ve been fine. You know, the usual stuff. School and all that.”
Geto nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds like you’ve got things under control.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if he was taking in more than just your words.
“Yeah,” you replied, unsure if there was more he wanted to say. It felt strange, like you were both trying to navigate the boundaries of something unspoken.
Gojo, sensing the shift, decided to add his usual touch of chaos to break the tension. “Alright, enough serious talk. We’re here to have fun, not talk about boring stuff. Right?”
Gojo leaned back casually against the wall, sipping his drink and letting his gaze wander around the party. “So,” he started, his grin mischievous as ever. “What’s it like living with Shoko? I imagine she has some… red flags.”
Shoko smacked his arm, rolling her eyes. “Don’t even start, Gojo. I’m a delight.”
You smirked. “She’s not lying. Living with Shoko’s pretty chill. Except for when she leaves coffee mugs everywhere.”
“Not everywhere,” Shoko interrupted. “Just… places.”
“You left one in the bathroom last week,” you deadpanned, and Gojo let out a loud laugh.
“Classic Shoko,” he said, shaking his head. “I bet Geto didn’t know you were a coffee hoarder.”
Shoko shot him a sharp look, her cheeks coloring slightly. “He’s not here to hear about my habits.”
Geto chuckled softly, watching the two of you with an amused expression. “It’s fine. I’ve seen worse.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you’ve already seen her coffee-stash phase?” Gojo teased, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Shoko groaned. “Ignore him. He gets worse the longer he’s at these things.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Gojo countered, his grin widening. His attention turned to you again, and he pointed at your drink. “You’re keeping up, right? No slacking.”
You raised the cup slightly in mock acknowledgment. “I’m pacing myself. Someone has to stay sober.”
“Smart,” Geto commented, his tone measured. He looked over at Shoko, then back to you, as if debating whether to say something. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter now. “So, how’d Shoko convince you to come out tonight?”
“She gave me a pep talk,” you replied, casting a faint smile at Shoko. “I guess I just needed a break.”
“She’s good at that,” Geto said, his voice carrying a warmth that made Shoko glance at him, her lips curving into a small smile. “Pulling people out of their routines.”
You nodded, sipping your drink. “She’s definitely good at that.”
The moment felt oddly intimate, even with Gojo’s constant interruptions and the background noise of the party. You could feel Geto’s gaze linger just a little longer than expected, and Shoko seemed acutely aware of it, though she said nothing.
Gojo, never one to let things settle too long, broke the moment with a loud laugh. “Well, I’d say tonight’s shaping up to be interesting. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up actually having fun.”
“Don’t jinx it,” you muttered, earning another laugh from him.
“Alright, alright,” Gojo said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll behave, for now.”
Geto shook his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “That’s the best we can hope for.”
Shoko nudged your arm lightly. “Come on. Let’s find a spot to sit before Gojo gets us dragged into something.”
You nodded, grateful for the escape, but as the two of you started to move away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Geto’s gaze following you.
You glanced back briefly, only to catch Geto and Gojo talking in hushed tones, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t meant for you to hear.
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Shoko was nowhere to be found again, and you were left alone in the kitchen, trying to collect your thoughts as the weight of the party surrounded you. You hadn't planned to drink much, but somehow you found your cup refilled a few times, the alcohol making your thoughts blurrier and your resolve a little weaker.
That's when you felt it again, his presence. Sukuna.
He was never far, it seemed.
You could feel the pull of his eyes from across the room, and before you knew it, he was standing beside you, leaning casually against the counter.
"You're still here?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing. He gave you a look that told you he knew exactly what was happening.
You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your composure. "Would you leave me alone already?"
“So,” Sukuna ignored your words, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. “What did you think of the flowers?”
You raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in your voice. “I thought I already told you.”
Sukana replied, his tone casual yet with an underlying intensity. “Yeah, but you didn’t seem genuine over text. Just wanted to make sure you actually liked them.” You didn’t respond, still confused about what he was asking.
“The flowers,” he repeated, crossing his arms. “The ones I sent you. Did you like them?”
For a moment, you couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or setting up another one of his smug remarks. “They were… nice,” you said cautiously.
“Nice?” he echoed. “I think that’s the most lame reaction I’ve ever gotten.”
“I didn’t ask for them,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “So forgive me if I don’t fall at your feet in gratitude.”
Sukuna tilted his head, watching you with a glint in his eye that made you feel both irritated and slightly uneasy. “You’re hard to impress, aren’t you?”
“That's because I’m not interested,” you replied firmly.
“Right,” he drawled, his tone skeptical but not unkind. “So that’s why you kept them.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “How do you know I kept them?”
He grinned, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make the moment feel more intimate. “Because if you didn’t, you would’ve told me by now. You’re not shy about speaking your mind, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you hated the way he always seemed to find a way under your skin. “Maybe I did throw them away,” you muttered, looking away.
Sukuna's lips twitched into a smile, clearly amused by you. "What a shame," he said, leaning closer, his body just inches from yours. "Because I could've sworn you were warming up to me."
You shook your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind, but it wasn't working. The alcohol had already taken its toll, and you could feel the way your body reacted to his nearness, even though you were determined to stay in control.
"I'm not warming up to anything," you muttered. The alcohol was making your thoughts slow, and the way Sukuna was looking at you made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion.
He smirked, leaning in a little further until his breath was warm against your ear. "You sure about that?" His voice was a husky whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. "Because I can't help but notice the way you keep glancing at me. You want to be close, don't you?"
Your eyes met his in a gaze that held all the unspoken tension between you. "You think you know everything, don't you?" Your voice came out quieter than you intended, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to pull away or pull you closer.
Sukuna didn't answer you. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as he stepped in even closer. His lips barely brushed the skin of your neck, and the sensation made your head spin.
"Don't fight it," he murmured, his hand now resting at the small of your back, pulling you gently toward him. "I can tell you want this just as much as I do."
Your head was spinning a little, but you couldn't deny the truth in his words. The attraction was undeniable, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, it was there, tugging you toward him.
With a slight sway, you felt your body move closer to his, the alcohol making you bold, making everything feel a little more... daring. Before you knew it, your arm slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your face just inches from his. You could feel the heat of his skin, the tension in the air thickening with every breath.
He gave you a half-smirk, one eyebrow raised, the challenge in his eyes clear. "Kiss me," he murmured, his voice velvet against your ear, the words hanging between you like a promise. "I know you want to."
For a moment, you almost gave in. The alcohol, the tension, the undeniable pull between you, it all felt too strong. You could feel his lips just a breath away, your eyes fluttering closed. But then, you stopped yourself. You couldn't do this. Not with him.
You pulled back quickly, pushing against his chest to create some distance. Your breathing was heavy, and your thoughts were clouded.
But before either of you could say anything, the door to the kitchen swung open with a sharp creak.
"Really?" Shoko's voice cut through the moment. You both snapped back in an instant, startled, as she leaned casually in the doorway with her arms crossed. Her eyes scanned between you and Sukuna, amusement dancing in her expression. "I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens?"
You froze, heart pounding in your chest, as Sukuna remained unfazed, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips.
Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. "Guess we're skipping the 'will-they-won't-they' phase tonight, huh?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Let's go. I'm getting you out of here before you do something you'll regret."
You wanted to protest, to stay, but the tension in the air was thick, and you could feel your head spinning from the alcohol. As you turned to follow Shoko, you heard Sukuna's voice, low and teasing. "See you later, sweetheart."
You wanted to punch yourself. You hated Sukuna, so why the hell had you almost kissed him? You knew it was the alcohol talking over you, but still… why did it feel so damn good?
He leaned against the counter, watching you disappear into the crowd, your figure disappearing behind a few people. Sukuna's smirk deepened. Day two and he already had you exactly where he wanted.
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another note: it felt a little weird making them almost kiss in only the third chapter but i remembered sukuna would probably try to make a move on her like kissing or sleeping with her because he thinks that’s how she’ll fall for him it just makes sense for his character! also was listening to ‘that’s so true’ by gracie abrams and that song is so sukuna and reader
taglist: @clp-84 @ssetsuka @lymsfm @monic19 @bol0-de-morang0 @strxberryicecream @r0ckst4rjk @gojocumslut @elliebelliegi @kazuuhali @luna-v-roiya @sussiesushi @nakiich @mourart7 @neuvilletteswife4ever @rusted-dolly @blueyesuguru @lillycore @yourhornysister @bnbaochauuu @ferretsqueen @anonnieghost @boogiemansbitch @sukubusss @sterzin @miazzzma @silkija @blueemochii @number0netrash @aldebrana @emoedgylord @cherixheri @jxeon @paradisestarfishh @bananaminn @reisore @monkeycheeks-lvl26
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kingkat12 · 2 months ago
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fuck-me eyes and first times (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, loss of virginity, inexperienced sex?, oral sex (female receiving), mutual masturbation, awkward real moments lol, dry-humping, use of contraceptives, drunk driving, Roman using his powers for good?, blood, FLUFF, a dash of angst
summary: you've been unlucky with your first times all your life-- but tonight, you're sleeping with the equivalent of your shooting star.
word count: 12,140 (i love you guys, do u see)
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11
a/n: FINALLY THEY’RE FUCKING ISTG?? tihiii this is a bit of a different chapter!! i'm dead tired of reading smut where everything goes perfectly the first time and they barely communicate, so hopefully this will be a bit more realistic (hopefully!!) sorry for the wait, and hope you enjoy!!!!!!;)
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The first time I broke a bone, I kicked my foot into the wall in a fit of rage.
The first time I got an A on a test, I cheated by writing the answers under my skirt. 
And the first time I lost a friend? That was the story of how I got here in the first place.
To say my track record for first times was bad, was an understatement. I didn't see myself as an angel of the world. However, as I glanced to the side for a brief moment at an intersection, I looked directly at the man who'd often joke he was the devil. Roman had spread out in the passenger seat, still a little drunk as his long legs rested against the dashboard. It didn't matter how many times I told him to take them down, that if I were to crash his car he'd fold in two and die-- he didn't care. 
We were still a little intoxicated from the party, but I was in a better condition than him, which was why I was driving; something he'd never let me do if he wasn't in this state. Roman's head lolled back against his seat, his eyes closing as he hummed along to the music. Space Song by Beach House was always my favorite song to drive to at night, and I was glad he seemed to like it as well.
The first time I heard this song, I had been driving home after getting introduced to Letha at a party. I was over the moon, happy to have finally found a person in this wretched town that I could enjoy the company of. I had been so dreadfully bored of all the others. 
Letha was a good hugger. A good listener-- never scared to tell the truth, especially as we grew closer.
"Roman is my baby cousin, I love him to death, but damn he can be annoying," she had said, smiling at me as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "The amount of friends I have lost to him is just crazy. Every single one seems to fall over like dominoes whenever he's around, and honestly? I don't get it. Maybe it's because we're related and all, but there has to be a fucking limit to how many times something like this can happen? How many times can he sleep with my friends and get away with it? Him doing that is the same as me sleeping with Peter, it's just not okay! I would never fucking do that! This situation is becoming hysterical, to be honest."
I remember frowning-- "Hysterical?"
"Yeah... If I wasn't so pissed at him, I'd just laugh at the absurdity," Letha's green eyes remained kind despite the heaviness of the topic. "But at the end of the day, I'm glad I get to keep you to myself. My previous friends were nothing compared to you."
Letha's words were sweet, but something felt off. I smiled as I spoke, hoping to keep my query a light one; "What do you mean, keep me to yourself? Gonna chain me up, Letha?" I gave her shoulder a nudge as she laughed. 
"Not like that, you freak! I mean that Roman doesn't seem interested in you at all, so I feel safe that you'll stay. And if he were to be, you'd never do anything like that to me," She put away her empty can of beer, and something in her eyes shifted just a smidge-- I wouldn't have caught it if my senses hadn't been sharpened by the mention of his lack of interest in me. 
"... Right?" Letha asked, urging a response. It seemed to dawn on her that she sounded on the brink of bitterness, and she broke out into an even wider smile to compensate; "You don't seem like the type to sleep with my cousin, but maybe I'm wrong?"
"Never," was what I had answered that night.
Never... Gosh, I was delusional to think I could behave. 
Once again, I glanced at Roman at the next red light, watching the way one strand of hair strayed from his stylings and laid in a soft wave over his forehead. He opened his big, green eyes, smirking as he realized he was being watched-- "Eyes on the road,"
It was embarrassing how fast I blushed. I quickly nodded, gripping the steering wheel harder as I fixated on the red light above us. "Was it the next intersection I needed to get off on?" I asked, hoping not to linger on the subject of my peeking. "Could you maybe turn on the GPS on my phone just in case you fall asleep?"
"I'm not sleeping," Roman prompted, holding out his hand to take my phone.
As I reached for it in my back pocket, I felt it vibrate as the lights turned green. I gave Roman my phone, in a rush to not miss the light even though we were the only ones on the highway. "Who's calling?" 
Roman didn't answer me-- I pieced together who it was when he started greeting my mom.
Oh no. 
I freed one hand from the steering wheel, trying to get a hold of my phone as Roman quietly laughed at my attempt. I didn't succeed; "Yeah, she's here," he said, grinning as he motioned for me to keep driving. "I hoped to have her stay over at my place tonight, as my mother is desperate to meet your lovely daughter."
I rolled my eyes, mouthing a simple fuck you. Roman had to bite down on his lip to suppress a laugh-- we both knew his mom was out of town and that his intentions were far from anything as pure as to introduce me to her. 
My mom seemed flustered by his pleasantries on the other side of the phone, but I couldn't make out the specifics of what she was saying. It didn't sound like she was objecting, though. 
Roman nodded along as he turned down the music on the stereo and (finally) removed his legs off the dashboard. "No, of course, I wouldn't dream of giving your daughter any alcohol! Yes-- Yes, we were at a party just now, but we're both sober as rocks!" He glanced at me, mischief dancing in the green of his eyes.
The look on his face now was priceless. Although he was lying to my mom right up her face (her ear?), he still looked damn charming as always.
"Uh-huh..." Roman mumbled, now reciting his phone number at her request. "We'll probably be up having dinner, so you can call me anytime if you have any questions!-- Yes, I know it's late to have dinner, but my mother is European like that. Your daughter is in good hands, don't worry!"
I rolled my eyes once more, knowing how fond my mom was of him and how easily she'd eat all of this up. When Roman finally got off the call, he broke out into a string of laughter-- "Your mom is so damn sweet, but I can tell she's terrified we'll have sex. It seems you've taken after her,"
"I'm not terrified!" I whined, turning left to get off the highway.
He snorted; "I was two seconds away from telling her I have a stash of condoms, and that she shouldn't worry about having to take care of a mini-me when you leave for college,"
I did my best not to blush-- this conversation was getting more and more suggestive. "Shut up," I mumbled. "I'm not terrified."
Roman's eyes softened as he sat back in his seat and watched me drive his car. I knew I was giving away my true feelings regarding the matter with the way I was anxiously tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. I continued; "I just had you locked in a closet trying to convince you I'm not. It's not that big of a deal,"
"Relax, I'm just teasing you," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, gazing into the rearview mirror to check how messed up it had gotten. His red car had an open roof, after all. He sighed, trying to choose his next words wisely. "Not a big deal, you say?"
"Well..." I was unsure whether to be honest or not.
Roman nodded, looking out at all the trees passing us by. His silence was unnerving, and I turned up the music to tune it out. I couldn't stand this. Something in him switched; Maybe he was upset that I said it wasn't a big deal? Or maybe he was realizing it was a big deal to him? I needed to change the subject; "This is the right direction, no? I feel like I'm just driving deeper into the forest--"
"I've never told you this, but after the first time we kissed, I kept having the same dream where never left the seven minutes in heaven closet," Roman placed his head in the palm of his hand as he leaned his elbow against the car door, sighing. "Over and over, every night. Nearly drove me mad. And in the dream, there were no seven minutes, no time limit. So it was just you and I, and we were going at it like fucking crazy."
I held my breath, my eyes widening further with every sentence. What? Was he drunk-rambling or was this something else?
Roman sighed again, attempting to relax as he closed his eyes and stilled in his seat. Like this, I could nearly mistake him for being asleep. "It all started with me wanting to fuck you," he mumbled. "But every night, at the end of the dream, I got greedy... Because suddenly, I also wanted you to love me." 
Had I not been good at keeping calm, I would've probably crashed the car into the nearest tree. I didn't get much time to process, to feel the weight of his confession, until Roman snapped out of it like a character taken straight out of an animation, now sitting up; "Turn here,"
I drove up to a huge gate, stopping the car as I tried to steady my breathing. "Roman--"
"Two seconds," he said, getting out of the car to walk up to the intercom. He was as good as normal now.
I was left still gripping the steering wheel for dear life, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to find the right words. I watched as Roman typed in a code, and the massive gate slowly opened as he jumped back into the car. 
My breath was still held in my chest as I turned to him, eyes wider than plates of expensive china. 
Roman glanced back at me with an innocent smile; the mood had completely switched. "Breathe," he cooed, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's just a mansion." With a sharp intake of air, he glanced at the backseat and the crumbled-up hot pink crop top we had brought with us (stolen, actually) from the party-- "A mansion with a possibility to put that anomaly in the fucking laundry."
I turned towards it as well, returning to my mind at the sight of the obnoxious colour of the top-- Knowing I had made him cum into the fabric of it merely an hour ago still felt like a triumph.
... Was it maybe my turn, now?
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
And he was right-- this was an absolute castle of a house. I had suppressed the truth about Roman's wealth for as long as I could, not wanting to think about it in case my mind went haywire about it, but now it was smacking me in the face.
Still, Roman's hand on the small of my back was a comfort as he led me through the mansion on the most impromptu show-around I've ever witnessed. "This is the room where I learned how to shoot darts," he mumbled, pointing at the small dents in the wall. "I didn't know the darts were actually stuck to the wall and not the printed dartboard I hung up..." He bent down, picking up the painting his mother had hung up to cover the indents.
I couldn't help but laugh, clinging to his arm as we moved from room to room. The mansion was gothic, vampy, but that might've just been my imagination playing with me. The tall ceilings were intimidating, yet beautiful-- judging by my surroundings, there was no denying that everything around me cost a fortune.
I was yanked out of my trail of thoughts when Roman led me behind a red curtain by one of the big windows in the next room, and I giggled as he wrapped it around us. My back was pressed against the wall, engulfed by both the curtain and Roman's embrace; "This is where I learned how to French," he whispered, smiling as he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "And it was horrible. She fucking bit me and I squealed like a girl."
If Roman was trying to distract me from what he had said in the car, he was certainly doing a good job. The mental image of his first French kiss kept me beyond entertained, and we both continued laughing as he got us out of the wrap of the curtain.
However, it was the walk up the circular stairs that truly made it dawn on me who I was dating-- Roman Godfrey, the future heir to a billion-dollar company. Fuck. I stared up at the painting above us, the one of him and his mother posing with a rather regal-looking background. He couldn't have been more than fourteen in that picture, and I could see his classic intimidating stare through the painting and the way he clutched the chair his mother was posed on. It was clear that the boy in the painting didn't want to be there at all.
Roman turned, realizing what I was looking at; "I fucking hate that one," he grumbled, giving my hand a squeeze. "I refused to smile at that age. I look like I'm on the brink of killing myself."
"Not true," I squeezed his hand back. "Give yourself some grace. How old were you?"
"Fourteen,"
There you go. "Judging by the painting, I think we could've been friends at fourteen,"
Roman stopped in the middle of the curved stairway, his brows drawing together. "How so?"
I shrugged, trying not to focus on how much taller he was than me. If I thought about it for too long, I'd jump him. "Because I wore all black for about a year. If you refused to smile, and I refused to show any joy, I think we would've been a killer duo,"
Roman blinked twice before cracking into a chuckle. "That's unexpected,"
"Bet,"
"You're all... cute and bubbly now,"
"You think?" I wasn't sure how much I agreed. "The girl that's fucking around with her ex-best friend's cousin?"
Roman had to bite down another laugh. "What do you mean, fucking around? I haven't as much as touched you compared to how I could've,"
Oh.
Oh God.
I held back a shiver, staring up at him as he resumed leading me up the stairs. "But... you have touched me,"
"Sure," Roman proceeded to get a proper look at me in the darkness of the night when we reached the second floor. The green around his widened pupils practically shone-- it was impressively cat-like. "Impossible not to, with those fuck-me eyes of yours."
"Hey!" I wasn't sure why I was protesting, but I knew his snicker egged me on. "I don't have... that!"
I could see that Roman was on the brink of cooing at me, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. I hadn't seen him this amused in a while. "Right," he purred. "You don't. Not a trace at all." With a short kiss on my forehead, he moved away from me and started walking down the dark corridor. "Keep those fuck-me eyes in the hallway, and I might let you sleep tonight."
I sighed before gearing up into a walking sprint to catch up with his long strides-- If only he knew that sleep was the last thing on my mind. 
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
When we finally reached Roman's bedroom, I couldn't believe the size of it. My room was nothing in comparison. I had certainly not expected the posters-- there were many rare classic horror films and some bands I was sure his mom probably loathed. However, I was surprised by the lack of half-naked models on his walls which I had always imagined; I let out a short, relieved breath. "Your room is nice,"
Roman hummed, throwing his jacket on a chair nearby. "Not too boyish for you?" 
"Nah," I mumbled, walking up to the posters on the opposite wall. There were a lot of movies I hadn't seen yet-- still, I couldn't help but laugh a little when I saw The Godfather. "It's very you."
"How great that you like me, then," 
"Lucky for you, yeah," There was something about this room that I couldn't help but love-- this was where Roman woke up and fell asleep. This was where he probably spent most of his time. I wondered whether the pillows smelled of his going-out cologne or the lighter one he usually wore to school. I wondered whether he'd been caught smoking in here, whether he'd done coke with Peter on his desk, and how many girls he'd had up here. By the likes of it, I somehow doubted anything like that ever happened at his place. If he had waited this long to have me over, I decided it was highly unlikely he'd invite someone he didn't know very well. 
I clasped my hands behind my back, taking long strides as I scanned the many posters on his walls.
Roman sat down on the chair by his desk, spreading out as he watched me with a smirk. "Not what you expected?"
I turned to him, my brows drawing together; "Why? Are you nervous or something?"
"I'm not nervous," Roman huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Now that I was looking straight at him, it was clear that he was. "I'm simply asking."
A knowing smile crept up my cheeks-- it felt like I had the upper hand, for once. "You're nervous,"
"Am not!"
"And now you're fidgeting,"
I was correct; Roman's right leg had given into a slight bounce. He rolled his eyes, muttering curse words under his breath. "It's not every day that I have girls up here, okay? I'm never here, stuff always happens at someone else's-- well, now your room. Because this is, like... my lair,"
I had to bite back an amused smirk; "Your evil lair?"
"Bingo. This is where I dissect people and stuff," He pointed to the table next to him. "So... yeah. Your opinion matters to me, I guess."
"Oh, does it now?"
"On some things, sure,"
I nodded, focusing on how the moonlight was dipping into the dark brown of Roman's hair. He didn't have to be so pretty all the time, did he? How rude. "Such as...?"
With a shrug, Roman now gazed at the tall ceiling. Like this, he almost looked bored. "Your opinion of me is the one that comes to mind, I guess,"
"My opinion of... you?" That was new. 
Roman met my eyes again, this time with a new emotion-- his head was slightly tilted to the side, and he was looking at me through his brows. I had a feeling he didn't intend the look to be as intimidating as it was. "It fluctuates,"
"My opinion?"
"Yep," he said. "Some days, you look at me like I'm everything. And then, the next day, I'm the biggest asshole in the world."
My lips drew together in a tight line-- this was unexpected. "And here I thought I was the only consistent thing in your life," I mumbled. "I don't know, Rome, every couple has its ups and downs, no? But I don't want them to make you doubt what I feel for you. Because... you know, right?" I started taking wary steps across the room. "You know I adore you, there is no way you've managed to miss that?"
With a sigh, Roman sat back in his chair with a smile. "Sure, I know that," he murmured, watching my every step with anticipation. "And I bet that tree you carved our initials into can attest."
Goddamn it. "You're never going to let go of that, are you?" 
As I finally approached him, Roman led me between his legs with a gentle hold around my waist. "Nope," He pressed his lips against my clothed chest, his fingers slowly digging into my top. My arms draped around his neck, and my next words were muffled against his hair; he reeked of his usual cinnamon-flavored cigarettes-- "But sure, if the tree ever starts talking, it will agree. You know I'm crazy about you,"
"Crazy is the keyword here,"
"Oh, shut up," I muttered, pulling away to get a proper look at him. Roman was so damn beautiful-- I had missed the sight of him in the past twenty-four hours I had been unsure of the state of our relationship. "I still can't believe you thought I was going to break up with you... Do you know how shitty you would have to be to drive me to that point?"
Roman pulled me back in again, enjoying the scent of my perfume with his next deep inhale; he pressed a short kiss to my neck. "Let me be paranoid," The next kiss lingered for longer, the warm exhale through his nose grazing my skin.
"But I don't want you to be," I tried. "I don't ever want you to doubt us like that. Never, ever again."
Roman stilled. With a sigh, he spoke; "Okay... but that's where you step into what people in my family call a deathtrap," He motioned for me to sit down in his lap, and with wary movements, I draped my arms around his neck and sat down, allowing him to place a sweet kiss to my cheek. "Deathtrap?" I echoed.
"Deathtrap," Roman shifted, placing one arm around my waist as his free hand traced small circles into my thighs. "Otherwise known as... hope." And just like that, it was as though his mind went elsewhere, as though something in his eyes shifted. 
However, I'd had enough of that-- I wasn't having any of it tonight. Knowing Roman saw hope as a deathtrap made my heart burn. Wary of not being too abrupt, I slowly placed a finger underneath his chin, catching his attention. "If you don't want to harbor any hope of your own, I'll lend you mine," I whispered, gently nudging his nose with mine. 
Roman's pupils dilated as his hot breath fanned against my upper lip. I could smell the beer on him, the cigarettes, yet the most prevalent was the anxiety-- it brushed upon my skin, and caressed my heart. "All of it, Roman," My hand went back into his hair, stroking through the softness of his locks. "All my hope, all my love... it's all yours to borrow. To keep, to mold, to steal, to hold, for as long as you like. It's not a trap of any kind. You're safe with me."
That was all it took, and so he gave in; with the smallest of sighs, Roman closed his eyes, relishing in the moment. "You make me feel... you make me feel," he echoed, almost in disbelief. "It's a painful thing, is it not?"
I dared to let my hand brush down the side of his face, my thumb gently ghosting over his closed lid to feel the softness of his lashes against the pad of my finger. "It doesn't have to be. It could feel really, really good,"
Roman let out a shaky breath against me; "I want that for you," he said, opening his eyes. The green in his eyes shone in the white shimmer of the moonlight, illuminating the intent in his words. "Want to make you feel good... in every way possible." 
Something about the drop in his voice nearly made me shiver-- I couldn't allow myself to, not in his lap. It took a few seconds for me to notice that I was holding my breath, staring back at him with a look on my face which I hoped didn't give away too much. Maybe I had misinterpreted his words? Maybe Roman meant that in a romantic way?
However, with the following upward curve of the corners of his mouth, so small I could barely notice it, I knew my intuition had been right. Roman definitely meant that in a different way. 
... I needed to listen to my intuition more, didn't I?
Roman's hand on my thigh lifted, now removing the vial of blood around my neck to place it on the table nearby; he proceeded to put his palm against my cheek with the gentlest touch, softly caressing my skin with his thumb. This was when it dawned on me that we were alone. Completely alone. Possibly for the first time ever. No interruptions, with no one to hear anything. Had this been a month ago, that fact alone would've been enough to make me jump off his lap, and I would've probably paced up and down along his room with nervous steps to soothe my anxiety. Being alone with him meant that I wouldn't be able to contain my need for him, I was sure of it.
But now? I believed Roman could do that for me. Soothe me. He could calm me down like no other. Now, I knew he wouldn't run off after getting what he wanted-- because now, I knew that what he truly wanted was me. 
"Could you let me do that?" Roman breathed, the green of his eyes finding my lips. I was confused as to how I hadn't melted into his lap already. "Make you feel good?" He leaned forward, just a few inches, now brushing the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, transfixed. "Or... are you sure you want to do this? Have your first time with someone like me?"
There was something about the fact that he was even asking-- the old Roman would never. "Who else would I have my first time with? It's always been you," My lips parted in a soundless intake of breath, my gaze darting to his plush, pink lips. Like this, I could almost feel them against me; we had kissed so many times that my body remembered the sweet push of his lips simply by gazing at them. Still, I was afraid it would never be enough, and every kiss was as thrilling as the first one. "Just being with you like this feels good already."
Roman hummed, absentminded. "Not what I'm getting at,"
"I know," I breathed. "But I can't help but worry that--" I had to clear my throat, swallowing. Why was I getting so damn nervous? It was getting harder to breathe, and I was sure my cheeks were flushing. "Well... That I won't know what to do."
With a sigh, Roman bit down on his lip to hold back a laugh. "It's your first time, you won't have to do much," Despite his lids hanging heavy over his darkening eyes, I could see the want building in him. "I'll take the lead, okay? You just relax." He steadied me with his palm over my cheek before leaning forward-- my body hitched with caution as he brushed his lips across mine, slanted, until I allowed myself to give in. 
The soft pillow of Roman's lips was the sweetest pressure I had ever known. I could feel my blood heat with the intent of the kiss, and I suddenly got the urge to cross my legs to calm myself down-- I knew I couldn't. Roman's breath fell softly against my cheek as my hands went up into his hair, tugging gently at the tips of his dark locks as I kissed him back with my lips slightly parted, moving against his as though he was whispering me a question.
Maybe I didn't hear it-- maybe it was a warning? Had he actually whispered something, or was I imagining things? Because with the next second, Roman hooked his arm under my knees, lifting me off the chair as I yelped into the kiss. It didn't take long before I eased, telling myself he had lifted me many times before, and that he would never drop me. Never, ever. Roman smiled against my lips, humming just slightly as he carried me bridal-style across the room. It felt silly, cliché, until it dawned on me-- was he playing the cliché out for me? Was this what he perhaps imagined I wanted, something pure, something classically virginal?
In the few seconds our kiss was broken, Roman placed me down on the bed and watched as I giggled; it was impossible not to laugh as the recoil of the springs threatened to bounce me up in the air again. He tsked, now grinning as he made space between my legs, drawing me closer before he kissed me once more. It was bolder this time, pressing the soft fullness of his mouth against mine-- there was nowhere else for me to go but to him. 
My hands wove into Roman's hair again, pulling him closer as my heart thumped hard in my chest. Was this really happening? Or was this maybe something I was imagining, maybe the alcohol hadn't left my system yet? "Rome--"
Before I could continue, his lips were on mine again like a magnet, drawing us together, unable to separate the magnetic forces long enough to let me speak. It was confirmed; he was definitely here. This was real. There was an urgency to Roman's stubborn kisses-- you're mine, just accept it. Being kissed into submission was something I had never imagined was possible, yet here I was, my lips parting with a soft whimper, feeling his tongue against mine; it filled me with a complete and utter satisfaction, a final statement. 
I wanted him to devour me. As I coiled my fingers around Roman's dark hair, tugging him closer, I so desperately wanted only that. To melt into him, to become one-- was that maybe the core concept of sex which I had misunderstood all up until this exact moment? Just the thought of being connected with Roman like that, knowing he could possibly be inside me-- that thought had never evoked the physical reaction in me before as it did now. 
Well, fuck. I realized I was screwed before it had even happened.
Sucking in a sharp breath, the silk of Roman's expensive duvets kept me grounded as he softly groaned into my mouth. His tongue circled mine before gently sucking the tip of it into his mouth, and he listened to my whimpers as he withdrew shortly after, a lone string of saliva still linking us. I was unsure why I was left so speechless, why every little thing he did made me feel like my body was on fire, but I knew there was no rationality in need. The innate need ravaging through your veins. There was no way to make sense of it, and I was certain Roman was aware of that too. Yet suddenly, he was near-motionless, blinking twice as if he was a little lost on what to do, which I immediately thought was odd--
Oh. There it was. I was wondering when that would happen. 
So... Roman wasn't lost. Far from it. Flustered might be a better word-- I felt his erection poke into my stomach, and it made me realize how big his pupils had gotten. That was quick. "Uh... Surprise?" He awkwardly cleared his throat as his green eyes nearly devoured me whole. "Fuck it, there's one thing I want to do before we go on. It'll take a second."
I held my breath-- with Roman, that could mean anything. "... Okay?"
"Don't look so scared," he teased, getting off the bed and walking to his nightstand. In my head, I wondered whether he was grabbing condoms, or whether he was about to impose something kinky on me. I was ready to start my rehearsed lecture on going slow with me, that it was my first time and everything, until my mind blanked at the sight of a... candle?
Roman got a lighter nearby, looking back at me with a trying smile. "You once said that me and sweet don't go together," he explained, lighting the candle. "On our first date, I believe, if we can call it that. The blackmail part of it was probably not ideal, but it counts in my head. Anyway, I thought you might be right about the sweet part... but it doesn't mean I shouldn't try to be."
I was afraid I'd melt much, much faster than that candle. "Don't tell me you went out and bought that candle just for this?"
Roman shrugged, hoping to brush it off. "Well... I was determined to prove you wrong. And I had a candle for my first time, and I guess it eased me a little. But, uh... I think this is actually a funeral candle," 
"I see," I had to contain a laugh. Sitting up, I reached for his fingers as I longed to touch him again; "Well, no one's dead yet, but the night is still young."
Unable to hold it, Roman snorted, placing the lighter back on the nightstand before he interlocked our fingers. "I'm never doing anything like this again, so I suggest you cherish it,"
"What? But now I'm growing fond of the funeral candle, you're breaking my heart!"
Roman rolled his eyes, sinking down on the bed again, and he brought our intertwined fingers above my head. "If that's what I need to do to get you in my bed, I'll buy the whole fucking candle company," 
There was something exciting about the fact that Roman genuinely could. It wasn't just an empty threat. If he got high enough one night, I was sure he'd know who to call. I was surprised to feel he was still hard now that his erection was pressed up against me once more, but I didn't get much time to think about it-- Roman freed one of his hands, and he managed to make his way under my top as he kissed me once more.
My breath hitched against the soft push of his lips as it hit me that I might have to get fully naked for this. Fuck. Okay. Yet my anxiety eased at the thought of him being fully naked too-- I found my hips keening up against him, my need for friction growing with my arousal. 
Roman smiled into the kiss; it was a ravenous feeling. "Impatient?" he asked, barely leaving my lips.
"Yeah," It was merely a breath-- I felt his hand ghost over my bra, slowly tracing the hem. I could barely think, too excited to function anymore.
"No need," Roman pulled away, letting go of the remaining hand above my head as his fingers now toyed with the edge of my top. "We have all the time in the world."
His tone was enough to bring scarlet to my cheeks, but I nodded, swallowing when he bunched the fabric up in his hands and lifted it up and off of me. I raised my arms, pouting just slightly at the loss of contact-- who would've thought I'd get more drunk from kissing Roman than the beer Peter gave me earlier? 
With a sigh, Roman's eyes consumed me; the smirk with which he looked down at me only made me more flustered. "Rome," I whined, reaching my hands out for him. "Stop that, get back here. This isn't anything new." That was true-- me in my bra wasn't a sight he hadn't seen before. 
Roman tsked, sending me a stern look. "You're disturbing my thought process,"
"Your thought process?--"
"Yep," he said, shrugging. "I'm just thinking about how I want to cum right..." Roman trailed a line across my lower abdomen with his finger, using a touch so light it immediately made me squirm. "... here."
The squirming quickly turned into a small shiver, and my hands went straight to my face as my blush deepened. 
There was a change in Roman which was noticeable by the way he lost his smile, lost in whatever images he had in his head as he now leaned back down, pressing eager kisses to the apex of my collarbones. His lips trailed down my body, his fingers digging into the sides of my waist-- his mind was gone. I tugged at his hair as he inched further away, and I whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tracing a circle around my belly button. I never expected myself to like anything like that, but damn-- heaven. This was heaven. 
I was reminded of how much bigger Roman was than me when I was suddenly yanked to the edge of the bed, and I could only yelp as I did nothing to fight it. His hands trailed down the sides of my hips, now hooking his fingers around my panties, not yet taking them off-- instead, he was kissing me through my soaked underwear, humming. 
Christ, this was something I could get used to. I managed to register the fact that he wasn't on the bed anymore, and I propped myself up on my elbows with the last remaining power I had to confirm my suspicions. Roman stopped for a moment, pulling away to glance right back at me; "What?"
"You're... kneeling,"
"... Yeah?"
It didn't register in my head. "You don't kneel for anyone," The Roman Godfrey didn't get on his knees for anyone in the world. In my mind, he thought the world should be kneeling to him, and that he would never stoop so low.
However, the look he gave me in return told me everything I needed to know. Come on, now. Roman pulled my underwear off as he spoke, peeling it down my thighs; "I kneel for you," To him, that was as simple as a fact. The most logical thing in the history of the universe. He didn't even seem to deem the subject worthy of a further conversation, now grabbing my hips to bring me even closer to the edge of the bed as I let out a small squeak. Roman led my legs to hang over his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, rings of desire around his eyes as he licked a broad, flat stripe up my sex.
Fuck-- I did my best not to mewl as my fingers reached for his hair once more, twirling into the soft curls of his hair. "Rome--"
At this point, I was sure he wouldn't hear me no matter how loudly I spoke. Roman sensed I was about to start keening against him, and he pulled my legs back and held my thighs in place as he slicked his tongue in between my slit, mouth moving as though he was pressing deep, heavy kisses against me. I whimpered, my grip on his hair loosening as I felt my conscience slip into its usual drugged-on-Roman state. A very, very dangerous state of mind, if you ask me.
Giving me some time to breathe, Roman moved to leave soft kisses up along the crease of my thighs. "Keep your legs like this, okay?" he said, slowly trailing one hand up my thigh. Roman's finger teasingly tapped my clit, and he turned to watch the thin line of slick connecting the pad of his finger to me. It was hard not to squirm, and I brought one hand up to my mouth to hopefully suppress any noise. "Rome, what are you?--"
Oh. My breath hitched as he eased his slicked middle finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes. I whined against my hand when Roman's mouth returned to me, sealing his perfect lips around my swollen nub, adding pressure. It was almost too much-- I felt myself clench around his finger when he curled it upwards, just as his lips covered my mound, sucking me in. 
"Christ," I breathed, reaching down to grab a hold of Roman's hair, the slick sounds of his mouth making goosebumps appear along my skin as I contained a shiver. "Shit, Rome, it feels-- so, so good--"
My mindless ramble came to an end with the next hitch of my breath; Roman added another finger, humming against me as an answer. With how nervous I was, it was a tight fit, and the sting that followed made me instinctively tighten my fist in his hair, my skin straining over my knuckles. It was hard to keep still, a string of whimpers escaping my lips. 
My hands shook as Roman continued slowly stroking his fingers into me. I wondered whether he could feel my anxiety seeping into my lust-- it was becoming so real. Roman's green eyes darted up at me, stilling his fingers, giving me time to adjust. He pulled away from me, leaving his digits in me as he spoke; "I'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that later," 
His words conjured a deep blush to my cheeks, and I brought my hands up to my face to hide. "Sorry," I breathed. "I don't-- don't know what's happening."
Roman shrugged, placing a wet, gentle kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You're nervous. It's normal," His hot breath ghosted over my soaked sex as he moved to the other thigh-- "I think it'll help if I make you cum like this. You'll relax more. And I'll keep my fingers in, get you used to the feeling... Unless you want them out?"
For a man who said he didn't deal with virgins, he certainly knew how to talk one down from the cliff. I let out a shaky breath, peeking down at him past my fingers; "N-No, it's okay,"
Roman seemed to be holding back a laugh; "You look a little spooked,"
"I... do?" Knowing my boyfriend, I knew he probably found that incredibly hot.
"A bit. Wanna stop?--"
"No!" That was a little too quick. Fuck. 
Roman chuckled as he proceeded to bite down on the inside of my thigh with a teasing smirk-- I squeaked, clenching around his fingers. "Good," he purred, leaning forward to press a short kiss to my clit, drawing out another squeak from me. Something told me he liked the sound of my pleasured panic. "It's been some time since the last time you let me do this. I've missed the taste of you."
"... It's been, like, four days,"
Roman let out a groan, and I could see in his eyes that it was building in him-- the innate lust. "A fucking eternity," he breathed, a new rasp appearing in his voice. With that, Roman didn't lose a single second leaning back down, slicking his tongue between my folds, returning to suck down on my clit with a moan. 
Oh, well-- I knew I was done for. Still, knowing his goal was to make me cum, knowing I didn't have to hold back, I let my hands wander back into his hair with a whimper of pleasure. It didn't take long before I clenched around his fingers again, the burn of the stretch subsiding with every flick of Roman's tongue. 
"Fuck," I breathed. "Fuck, fuck--"
Any attempt to speak dissolved into incoherent cries, teetering on the edge while pleasure surged through me like a relentless wave. Still, it didn't take more than two more sucks to ease me over, and I felt my climax drawing out long and slow against Roman's mouth, tightening around his fingers with a whimper. 
My head lolled along the duvets as I tried to catch my breath. With every time Roman did this, it only got better-- it was hard to believe that was even possible. I came to my senses when I felt his fingers slide out of me, the twinge of pain having long passed. 
"Fuck," Roman said, a laugh to his voice as he pressed kisses up along my stomach, getting up from the ground. "Best fucking pussy in the world."
God-- I hid my face again, my blush deepening. That dirty mouth of his. "That was so good," I purred, reaching out for him; "Come here, Rome. I miss you up here."
Chuckling, Roman shook his head, motioning for me to scoot further up the bed. "Just a sec," he said, walking back over to his nightstand, opening his drawer again and shuffling around. I did as told, watching him with a sigh; he was right, that orgasm had relaxed me. However, my zen didn't last long-- I suddenly felt all my muscles tightening when I watched Roman bring the fingers he just had in me to his lips, absentmindedly sucking on them as he now held up a silver wrapper with his free hand as though that was the most normal thing in the world. I also spotted a clear bottle which I could only assume was lube. 
What the fuck? The sight of him doing that made me want to disappear into the bed-- why was the sight so... thrilling? It must've been the look of enjoyment on his face. "Oh, that's hot," I mumbled, my eyes immediately widening with the realization of what I had just blurted out.
Roman cocked a brow as he unclasped the vial of my blood around his neck, placing it next to the candle before he got back on the bed, now trailing the residue of spit and slick on his fingers across my thighs. "Well, you taste nice,"
"Not that nice?"
A hum; "Wanna try some, make up your mind?" he asked, a teasing smirk spreading across his plush lips as he brought his hand up to his mouth, wiping off the remnants of my slick to coat his fingers. 
I shivered, grimacing— "No, thanks," Hoping to distract Roman from trying to convince me, I sat up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Frankly, I had enough of being the only one that was undressed.
Roman hummed, following my hands with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear as he threw down the condom and the lube somewhere on the bed. "More for me, then," he mumbled, licking my slick off his fingers as he kept his gaze on me-- it didn't take long before he pushed me back down on the bed, unbuttoning the last of his buttons with ease I could never match. 
My heart had probably never worked this hard before in my life. "Rome," I tried, watching him discard his shirt. Fuck-- he was gorgeous. I could feel myself blushing in an instant, shamelessly looking him up and down; I knew he didn't mind. Why was I reacting like this? Roman being breathtakingly handsome wasn't news? "I think... I think--"
"You're still thinking?" Roman's hands gripped my waist as he leaned down, kissing up my torso as I whimpered beneath him, reaching for his hair again. "Stop thinking. No thinking."
"No thinking?" I echoed, giggling as his eager kisses reached my neck, getting ticklish. "You're asking for too much." Now that he was finally close again, I draped my arms around him, trailing my fingers across his broad shoulders with a sigh. Being skin-to-skin like this was my favorite thing in the world-- being connected.
Roman hummed, his erection once again pressing into my lower abdomen. "Either you stop thinking of your own volition..." he said, pulling my chest up against his. "... Or I'll have to fuck your brains out. Your choice."
I shivered, feeling my mind start buzzing. That was a damn easy choice. "That sounds rough," I mumbled, my breath hitching as Roman pressed a kiss to my ear. "You said you'd be gentle..." To be completely honest, this was the part I was nervous about-- would he maybe not be able to be? I was a little scared he'd be like one of those horror-story guys Letha had told me she'd been with, one of those guys that just slap you all of a sudden or start choking you cause they've seen it in porn and think that's normal behavior. 
Roman pulled away, hovering barely an inch above my lips; his breath grazed my cheek, and the green of his eyes were glazed over with a look of confusion. "Am I not being just that?" he asked, nodding to the candle.
Oh-- I turned to the supposed funeral candle. 
It allowed a sweet kiss to my cheek, the tip of his upturned nose pressing into my cheekbone; "Trust me. I wouldn't want to hurt you, you know me,"
He was right-- from the very first moment we got together, he had told me just that.
Still, it was only when I felt Roman's lips against mine with the softest of pressures, that I pushed my concerns away. It was the sort of kiss that made my heart burn, the sort of kiss that made my hands trail up into his hair to keen him closer. I pushed all my thoughts of horror into a heap, churned it in my mental grinder, processed it, and allowed the product of it to slip past my lips; "I want you," I breathed, feeling myself grow needy against him.
Roman hummed, a small roll of his hips onto mine following-- I didn't expect it to make my breath catch in my chest. "I want you too," 
Something in me ignited; I wanted him to do that again. Disoriented, I reached down for the zipper of his jeans, moaning into the kiss that followed. "Want you more," 
Roman smiled; "Not possible," 
At this moment, I was thankful to be made up of solid matter-- if not, I was sure I'd have melted straight into the bed, a puddle of pure horny. I wasn't sure when Roman lost his pants, too consumed in the kiss to function. My state of arousal only heightened when my hips bucked up, feeling the hard outline of his cock between my legs; I was suddenly reminded of the time we did something similar in an alleyway on our first day. But this was different-- this was a direct contact of his clothed length brushing up against my clit with repeating strokes, a motion which had my breath hitching as my nails dug into his shoulders.
Roman let out a soft groan, nipping at my neck as he ground down against me. "This," he breathed. "This is what you do to me. I wanna be in you so fucking bad."
With the next roll of his hips, I whimpered; the buzzing of my mind refused to still. "Have me, then," was all I managed to say, tugging at Roman's hair as the tips of my fingers burned.
What followed happened so fast, I barely registered it. I heard the ripping of the silver wrapping in the midst of our heated kiss, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through my veins as every little sweet word rolling off Roman's tongue filled me with that familiar warm feeling I always got around him.
For this, it was all worth it. All the drama with Letha, all the tears, all the pain-- it was all worth it. 
"You're everything," Roman whispered, rubbing the head of his cock along my soaked sex as my hands skimmed the muscular range of his back. "You're my everything, do you know that?"
God, how I wanted to be one with him. Wanted him in my head, wanted him in me, wanted to melt into him and become one single entity, never to part. From the first moment I met him, from the first moment I laid eyes on him in class, from the first moment he smiled at me, I knew it was Roman. It would always be Roman, it would always, always be Roman for me, and knowing he thought the same of me as well, that I was his everything-- all my longing, everything, had been worth it. Because I was his everything too, finally, just like he had always been mine. 
However, as Roman angled his cock and gently pushed the head in, kissing my cheek with the sweetest touch, I didn't expect the painful, sharp sting-- I wasn't sure how loudly I gasped, how far my nails dug into his back, but I was really damn certain that this hurt. 
Roman was out of me within the blink of a second; "Shit," he breathed, a panicked look in his eyes. "Should've-- Should've warned you."
The sting remained as I did my best to breathe through it. "That's a stretch," was all I managed to say, stroking over where I had scraped his back. 
"I'll take that as a compliment," Roman mumbled, scanning me. He didn't seem bothered by the crescent moons my nails were leaving behind. "You okay?"
"Yeah..."
He cursed under his breath, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I forgot about this part... My brain doesn't work when you're naked," Roman sighed, reaching for one of the hands I had on his back. "If you want to go on, I might know a way to make it a little easier."
I met his eyes as he brought the back of my hand to his lips; "I guess it's supposed to hurt a little, Roman, just... just do what you usually do, I trust you," Maybe I needed to push through it? I could take a little pain, couldn't I? That was until I remembered the pain again-- it made me clench. Ouch.
With a certain look I knew too well, he shook his head as he now wrapped his fingers around my wrist. "No. It's not supposed to hurt," he said. "And I said I wouldn't hurt you, so..." Roman trailed my hand down along my body, watching as my eyes widened. "In my experience, it helps if you... help."
"Help?"
"Help yourself, so to speak," Roman purred, his signature cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Cause I doubt this will be your first time doing this."
"Doing what?-- Oh," As he placed my hand over my sex, he slid two fingers above mine, guiding me to rub my clit. Roman was right; it wasn't my first time doing that to myself. Still, this was a different feeling-- My hips immediately bucked up into our hands, and when Roman leaned down to kiss me, I knew I was done for. 
Everything felt warm, everything felt right. "Just keep doing that," he whispered, sinking his teeth into my lower lip. "Wanna?-- Again?"
Roman didn't need to use more words than that; I knew what he meant. I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden at the fact that I was touching myself in front of him like this-- however, I didn't have time to think much about it.
Soon, I wasn't the only one touching myself, anyway.
"Should've used this from the start," Roman mumbled, cursing under his breath as he poured a dash of lube on his cock from the clear bottle nearby. "Got too excited... fuck." With a lazy grip, he wrapped his hand around his length, spreading the lube with slow strokes. 
My mind was buzzing. I watched as Roman's lips parted, a shaky breath escaping him. "It's okay," I tried, rubbing mindless circles around my clit. "It's just me."
"Yeah, and I care about you," Roman's eyes were halfway closed as they met mine, darkened with growing lust. "Ready?"
I nodded-- yeah.
This time, when Roman's cock pushed into me again with the slowest of strokes, the pleasure from my clit dulled the sting. The only thing left to adjust to was the stretch; my breath hitched as my free hand went back up into his hair, wincing against his lips as his thick length stroked me open. 
Roman cursed as his parted lips hovered above mine. He held me tightly against his body, watching out for any signs of discomfort before he spoke; "Shit... This feels better than I--thought," 
My head rolled back against the duvet, breathing against Roman with small heaves. "Rome," I whimpered. "Fuck, this is--" I didn't expect the feeling, didn't expect the tips of my fingers to burn more as I grasped at his hair, didn't expect the way my whole body reacted-- it was different from anything else I had ever felt or thought I could feel. Being filled up by Roman was...
It was everything.
Everything I had ever dreamed of. 
It felt good, it felt right-- I moaned, clenching at the feeling of his cock slowly sinking into me at a steady pace, my body aching with love. This was as gentle as I bet anything like this could possibly be, and I squirmed a bit beneath him, adjusting to the feeling of having his cock inside of me. 
Roman let out a shaky breath, containing the urge to pound into my warmth like I supposed he usually would. "Hurts?"
"No, no-- Ah," 
With his next thrust, Roman kissed up my jaw, keeping every stroke careful. "Want me to put it in all the way?"
"The-- There is more?"
"Baby..." he breathed, containing a choked laugh. "I'm only halfway in."
I was sure I was about to faint. How the fuck?-- No, I couldn't think clearly in this state. No more thinking. I decided to trust him; I knew Roman would pull back if it hurt, anyway. "Okay... Let's try,"
As Roman pushed in more of his length, the quiet moan escaping him blended in with my string of panicked whimpers. I didn't even know I had space inside me for more-- my eyes sprung open, my legs giving into a tremble. "Rome, I-- a-ah, this is--"
"Shh, look at me, breathe," Roman brought his hand to my face, guiding me to look into his eyes. His voice was soft, caring; "You okay? Is this too much?"
The shock was the thing that had gotten to me, I was sure of it. Because after a few more deep strokes, a few tighter circles around my clit, my fear eased as I realized this was a sensation I would be chasing for the rest of my life.
"Feels good?" Roman asked, his voice nearly breaking-- I imagined it was hard to not give in to the pleasure of the tight embrace around his cock.
Still, I could only nod, twisting my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him towards me to smother him with a heated rush of my lips against his, moaning into the kiss as I pulled my hand from between my legs-- it was starting to brink the line of overstimulation. 
"Good," Roman muttered against my mouth. 
The kiss didn't last too long; my shock was still coming and going in waves. "I'm-- we're having sex," I blurted out, my cheeks flaring red. The truth was hitting me like a blow to the head. The thing I had dreamed about since the first day I laid eyes on him was actually happening.
Roman contained a laugh, looking rather endeared by my realization; "Yeah, you're doing it, you're having sex... I'd give you a high five, but-- hah, that wouldn't work,"
Why were we laughing? Why was this... fun?
Caught between the fire in my chest, the twinge of humor, and the ache pulsing low between my legs, I whimpered as I realized I wanted-- no, needed more. Still, a small, meek call of his name was all I managed to stutter out.
Roman shifted, pushing my body so that my knees were bent at his sides; "Speak your mind," 
How was I supposed to conjure a cohesive sentence in this state? "I want-- you, more--"
"We're going-- hah, back to that?" 
"Not that! More, Rome-- just, more, I need--"
He let out a breathy moan, smiling back down at me; he knew exactly what I meant. "Thank God," Roman's cock filled me over and over, his thrusts growing harder, faster as he found a steady pace to rock into me. "You're taking me so good, aren't you?"
My head felt like it was spinning. This couldn't be real. I couldn't possibly be as lucky as to finally sleep with Roman Godfrey. 
His voice brought me back; "You're doing so well," he murmured, burying his face into the crook of my neck, muffling a quiet moan against my skin. It was the most magical of sounds-- my heart was threatening to beat out of my chest, and I was sure the warmth of skin against mine probably helped with the overheating of my brain. "Doing so, so well for me... I've wanted you like this for so long."
"Me too," I breathed, my hips keening to take his thrusts. "Wanted you-- since forever."
My words only seemed to reel him on; Roman hips snapped harder into me as I whimpered. "Forever?" 
"Forever-- a-ah,"
Something in Roman's breathing changed. It was almost as though I could read his thoughts, feel his new reality form. Was it maybe the last push he needed to believe I was his till death? That there was a person out there walking this earth, breathing the same air, that could possibly want to be with him for an eternity? "Forever," he breathed, latching onto my neck with repeated needy kisses in an attempt to drown out the noises threatening to spill past his lips. "You and-- and I, forever."
As Roman's cock repeatedly pushed into me, I could only whimper; the stretch was still something to get used to, and my nails bit into his back as I tried to steady myself. "Forever," I managed to breathe out, hearing him moan into my neck at the sharpness of my nails against his back-- I knew he'd like that. I knew Roman too damn well. 
"Forever," he echoed, breath washing warm against my ear as he raised himself, his cheek nuzzling mine in an intimate embrace. 
I clenched around the girth of his cock, shivering. This was so unbelievably sweet, nothing I had ever expected from him. Roman was so much taller, and his broad build served as a comforting weight through the wave of new pleasure my body tried to comprehend. With the next surge of love washing over my chest, the next pump of Roman's cock, I felt my chin give in to an involuntary quiver as I gripped him tighter. 
It was at this moment that it truly dawned on me;
I loved him. 
I loved Roman Godfrey.
Tears swarmed my eyes as one of my hands went up into his soft hair, hoping he'd take it as an urging for him to kiss me again. I didn't want to have a chance to talk, to blurt it out and scare him away-- which is why, when Roman shifted and crashed his lips against mine, I only felt relief. 
I was safe. I was cared for. And damn, I felt good. 
However, what I hadn't expected, was for the shift of angle to brush past a spot inside of me I had only ever felt when Roman's fingers curled into me. But this was far greater, far more stimulating-- I let out a choked moan against Roman's lips, my eyes springing open as my head tilted back into the duvet, heaving for air as my legs gave in to a tremble. 
I didn't have to look up at him to know the exact look on his face, yet I dared to take a peek; he was too hot to resist. And there it was, those parted, perfect lips paired with that dark look in his green eyes of victory. This is exactly what he had wanted to reduce me to all along, wasn't it? Roman's hair had never been this messed up (courtesy of my hands), and the sheer look of it nearly made my heart swell. "Good tears?" he asked with a whisper, scanning the look in my eyes.
Fuck, yeah. I could only nod. 
Knowing Roman, I was wondering when he'd-- oh, hello, you. I was waiting for the eventual switch. A man like Roman Godfrey couldn't stay sweet forever. 
At the sight of my tears, I knew something new in him ignited. He placed a hand over my mouth, placing more of his weight on me as his other hand pulled me tighter against him, the wet snaps of his cock pushing into me growing louder as I moaned out against his palm. "Listen to this," he purred, a sinister smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he made me listen to the sound of our union. "This is sex, you're damn right. This is what you'll be craving from me." 
God-- I squeezed my eyes shut, the continuous push of the tip of Roman's cock against my sweet spot inside sending my brain into a frenzy. 
"I get why you've been reserved... You'll never be who you were before this again," With a grunt, the next snap of his hips only grew harder, knowing I could take it and adjust. It certainly didn't help the tremble of my body. "Gonna get you fucking addicted to this feeling. To me. Cause you've given yourself to me now, do you-- do you realize that?"
My wet lashes fluttered as I slowly dared to open my eyes, my heart thumping harder than ever before. If only he knew how addicted I already was. 
"This is it," Roman breathed, the green hues of his gaze engulfing me; "This is us. This is you. This is who you are from now on. My girl... Only mine. Forever. Gonna help you cum on this cock, okay? Gonna give you the first time you deserve, h-hah--"
Something about the look in his eyes unnerved me, despite the hot nature of his words-- What? There were many ways for him to make me cum, surely, but the second my fingers started numbing up, my mind started flaring red with a passage from my most hated book;
The upir's ability to mesmerize is an ancient and powerful form of psychic influence, capable of bending a victim's will. This control often manifests subtly, with suggestions that feel like one's own thoughts. If one is being mesmerized by a upir, it is often accompanied by a stilling of one's inner monologue, or a numbing sensation. Prolonged exposure can lead to disorientation, memory lapses, and a gradual erosion of autonomy. The key to resisting lies in anchoring oneself to reality—through pain, strong emotions, or focusing on a meaningful object. Beware: once under an upir's thrall, distinguishing truth from illusion becomes a perilous challenge.
Beware. 
Beware.
The last time my fingers had numbed up like this, was the time Roman forced me to tell him what had happened between Jasmine and I. It felt like the autonomy of my thoughts evaporated, seeped out of my ears, and disappeared into Roman's grasp. 
However, at this moment right now, this moment of blinding pleasure and complete rapture of my soul and love, I wanted nothing more but this. I knew I wasn't being mesmerized of course, because upirs weren't real-- but as Roman kept my face still and my eyes on him, it felt like it. It was almost like I heard him telling me to cum. A few more thrusts were all it took, the complete transfixion of Roman's unnaturally dilated pupils swallowing me as I only saw green, green, green-- his hand quickly left my mouth to hear me cry out, a choked moan escaping me as the fear toppled me. This was an orgasm unlike anything else I had experienced, and I felt myself pulse around Roman's length, practically milking his cock as I struggled to grapple with the most intense climax of my life. "Fuck-- Fuck!" I whimpered, my nails digging further into his back as tears welled in my eyes. 
The mere sight of it was enough for Roman to nearly buckle over, and I was ripped out of the trance, heaving for air as he spilled into the condom, teeth grazing my shoulder as he tried to bite back his moans of pleasure, hips keening into my tight warmth. 
I slowly slid my hands off Roman's broad back, realizing we had both dripped sweat onto each other's skin as I hoped my breath would soon go back to normal. My body ached in a way it had never ached before, and I winced as Roman eventually pulled out of me with a sigh. 
There was a long moment after he rolled off of me where we simply gazed at each other. I watched the heave of his chest, the way his brown hair laid over his dangerous green eyes, and wondered how on earth I had been so lucky as to have him fall for me too.
However, suddenly, amid my awe, a small droplet of blood gathered at Roman's nose. To my surprise, he was completely unbothered. The look in his eyes told me he had an inkling this would happen, and it further confused me.
I leaned forward to wipe away the blood pooling at his upper lip with my thumb. "You're bleeding," I echoed, aware that I was stating the obvious.
Roman's eyes softened; "Are you, though?"
"... What do you mean?"
Shifting, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as his other hand slid between my legs, sliding a finger against the wetness of my sex as I squirmed, a short giggle escaping me as I nuzzled up against him. Roman then scanned his finger as I continued to wipe away the stream of blood coming from his nose, watching as it smeared against his cheek. He hummed; "You didn't bleed. At least that's good?"
"I guess?"
Roman kissed my bloodied thumb, a shaky breath escaping him at the taste of the iron; "How was that for you? You okay?"
If only he knew. "You were great," I purred, nipping at his jaw. "It was lovely, Rome."
He let out a breath; "Thank fuck," Roman murmured, visibly relieved. "And you were really damn sweet. I knew those fuck-me eyes would be the death of me... Sorry if it got a little intense at the end, there."
"No, no, that was-- fuck, that was so hot,"
Roman smiled. My sweet boy. Another kiss; "But now, there's one thing I wanted to do." He propped himself up on his elbow, and I closed my eyes as he made sure I laid with my back against the bed-- I was too tired to focus. The ache between my legs refused to subside, making me worried about the state of my thighs tomorrow. They better not fucking cramp up with every step, similar to the day after a hard session at the gym.
And just as I was about to ask him to return to me, to stop doing whatever the fuck he was doing, I suddenly felt a warm, slick substance drip onto my lower abdomen. With a gasp, I snapped out of my drowsiness, only to be met with the sight of Roman holding the condom above my stomach with a devilish grin, letting the content pour down on me.
He chuckled at the sight of my widened eyes, my speechless state-- "Didn't manage to cum here, as I said... so this will do,"
"Roman, for fuck's sake!" 
"What? You look good with my cum all over!--"
"Roman!"
"Fine!" he huffed. "Gonna go grab some wipes, I'll be right back. Anything else you need? Water?"
I wondered whether Roman realized how sweet he was being-- I glanced over at the candle flickering in the moonlight, the vial of my blood lying neatly next to it. The sight made my heart swell; God, how I loved him. It killed me that he couldn't know. I knew he'd run in the other direction if he did. "Water would be nice," I breathed, watching as Roman got dressed again. 
It all hit me like a wave, now;
The first time I got my heart broken, I had been at fault. 
The first time I got a black eye, I had swung the first punch.
But the first time I had sex? It had thankfully been with the man I loved. Still, I was sure the cosmic imbalance would catch up to me again and drag me back down into the dirt soon enough. 
But not right now.
Not right now.
Here, I was safe with Roman. The universe couldn't get me now, no-- not with the equivalent of the moon lying next to me. He had returned to me in no time, holding me close in his nearly immediate slumber after having lent me a shirt of his to sleep in. The cosmos wouldn't dare to touch me now. 
I adjusted the cover on top of us, kissing Roman's forehead; "Are you sleeping?" I whispered, poking his cheek with the gentlest of touches. 
No response. Phew. 
And just as I started to fade into sleep as well, I ran my thumb across the softness of his cheek. I connected our foreheads with a content sigh before I pressed my lips against his in a loving kiss. Roman looked so peaceful-- the universe wouldn't dare to take me now, wouldn't dare to wake him up. 
"I love you," I whispered like I would be put to death if I awoke him. With one last glance at the candle, my heavy lids fluttered as my heart cried;
"I love you,"
(a/n: thank you SO MUCH for reading this monster of a chapter!!<33 if you've made it all the way down here, here are all the other chapters if you're interested!!<33 MWAH)
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11
tagging those that seemed interested!!<333
@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx
@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt
@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani
@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu
@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog
@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel
@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf
@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy
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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months ago
Text
Chapter 2- Awakening
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Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.
Word Count: 4.1K
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)
Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings ✨ and doesn't know what to do
A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
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Frankie, Present 
“Bring these next door.” 
His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap. 
“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded. 
“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.” 
There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.
“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?” 
“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”
She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue. 
Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again. 
He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did. 
He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep. 
“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again. 
“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making. 
“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.” 
Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place. 
“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.” 
They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness. 
“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 
Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.
At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.
“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?” 
“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”  
The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started. 
“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”   
“Didn’t think you would.” 
Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t. 
When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him. 
Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.
Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you. 
“Be right there!” 
He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours. 
Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.  
He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open. 
His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side. 
“F-Frankie?” 
“Hi, Mackenzie.” 
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Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14
It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him. 
As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known. 
“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.” 
Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise. 
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why. 
They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back. 
It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine. 
“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.” 
Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest. 
“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further. 
It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return. 
 “Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?” 
It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son. 
“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables. 
“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?” 
“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence. 
“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?” 
“I think so. But don’t tell her that.” 
“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.” 
Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now. 
“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.” 
Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence. 
“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.” 
Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor. 
Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked. 
“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood. 
“Not now, Frankie!” 
He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door. 
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned. 
“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!” 
You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset. 
“C’mon, MacKenzie.” 
He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside. 
Except he can’t. 
“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!” 
“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.” 
With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it. 
“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!” 
To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong. 
“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!” 
“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.” 
“Francisco!” 
If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious. 
“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?” 
Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you. 
“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.” 
Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor. 
“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.” 
It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears. 
“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.” 
But you are pretty. 
It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head.. 
Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie. 
“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time. 
“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.” 
You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first. 
“What?” 
“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?” 
You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him. 
“Y-yeah. Okay.” 
The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker. 
“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him. 
It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him. 
What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him? 
In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra. 
Your bra. 
He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about  what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter. 
“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself. 
“Promise.” 
His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them. 
“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.” 
The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes. 
“Kenz… You uh, you- um-” 
He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 
“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-” 
“You look really pretty.” 
It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights. 
“W-what?” 
You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into. 
“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.” 
He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth. 
“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!” 
Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours. 
“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?” 
“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?” 
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 
Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.
When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.
He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp. 
He wishes it wasn’t you. 
At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work. 
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beenbaanbuun · 1 month ago
Text
save a horse w/ choi san
words - fuck knows
genre - nsfw
warnings - cowboy!san, cashier!reader, masturbation, talks of dick sucking, it’s mainly just reader fantasising but hey, don’t we all? reader is explicitly described as arab and uses feminine nicknames (little lady, ma’am)
not proof read bc i’m lazy and sick :)
——————————————————————————
the shop is silent other than the sound of your breathing and the rattling of the doors in the hot summer breeze. it’s the time of evening where places like this begin to wind close their shutters, and the less than reputable places begin to open, tempting people in with the promise of booze and a good time. there’s one such place right in your like of sight, just across the dusted track that you suppose could be called a road. the music that plays there is barely audible right now, but no doubt by the time your boss finally lets you slip out back and head home, it’ll be loud enough to spook even the hardiest of horses.
that’s a problem for later, though. for now, you’re happy to wallow in the quiet, flicking through the pages of your novel as you wait patiently for a customer to slip through the door. it’s been 10, maybe 20 minutes since the last one left, but you know that these things don’t run like clockwork. sometimes you’ll have a stream of customers waiting at the register for you to rid them of their hard earned money, and other times you can divulge in 5 or so chapters between seeing people.
for the sole reason being that your book is getting rather interesting, you hope that it’s closer to the latter today; that you don’t see another soul for at least another 30 minutes so that you can find out what has happened to the killer! the book so far has been all twists and turns and convoluted plot lines, but the murder of Christian Truro’s sister, Mabel, has to be the most interesting of the lot. it’s a classic tale of good versus evil, and cliche as it might be, you’re a sucker for tropes.
you blindly reach a hand out to the lollipop container you keep on the counter, fingers wriggling around as you try to find purchase on the glass lip of the jar. it’s around here somewhere, you know that much, but for some reason you just can’t seem to find it. as much as it pains you to do so, you draw your eyes away from the words on your page in an attempt to search for it with more than just your touch.
only, you find more than just the jar.
there’s a thick pair of thighs on the other side of the counter, clad in jeans and a pair or worn leather chaps. they’re scuffed up, covered in dirt and dust that serves to prove just how hard they’ve been at work. you can imagine them sitting either side of a saddle, straddling the firm leather as they tense and relax with each trot. funny—your spit feels awfully thick as you gulp it down. you find it filling up your mouth, collecting at the corners of your lips as if ready to drool from them.
fucking hell, keep it together.
your gaze shifts north, travelling over a tiny waist, a chest so big it should be illegal, and shoulders you’re convinced could break a world record. it’s difficult not to let your eyes linger on the way his shirt buttons bulge, but somehow you manage not to appear like a total creep, raising your gaze until finally, you find his face. at the angle you’re sat, slouching on your stool behind the counter in a way that makes the base of your spine ache terribly, it’s fairly easy to sneak a peek under the wide brim of his hat. the way it’s drawn low over his eyes has you wondering whether he’s trying to keep those pretty eyes and dangerous smirk hidden, and if so, why?
“you sell whisky?” he purrs, the sound rumbling like an engine through the stifling silence. it has you shuffling in your seat, grinding your hips down into the worn leather pad to try and rid yourself of the strange ache at the apex of your thighs.
“this is a hardware store, mister,” you reply, voice teetering on the edge of a whine. if it weren’t for the heat blooming across your cheeks, maybe you could’ve blamed your shaky tone on the fact that your intimidated by the tall man, but as true as that may be, there’s certainly something stronger that you feel.
lust isn’t an emotion that strikes you often; mainly in the dark hours of the night when the streets are quiet and all you can hear is the rumble of water passing over pebbles in the nearby stream. only then do you let yourself close your eyes and imagine the strong touch of a man. as your fingers pry apart your slick folds and reach for that little treasure trove of pleasure, you set your mind free and pretend it’s a hand other than your own bringing you to that all important peak. your thighs twitch, and you long for a warm pair of hands to hold them still; your pussy leaks and you dream of thick fingers trailing through the remnants of your desire.
it’s that very same desire that has your eyes fluttering down to gaze upon his hands. they’re covered by thick leather gloves, and yet somehow they still manage to draw a longing sigh from your parted lips.
“so it is,” he says, “still doesn’t answer my question, though. do you sell whisky?”
his voice is insistent as he leans forward, hands catching him on the counter and biceps bulging against the short sleeves of his shirt. he really ought to get some clothes that fit him since the ones he’s wearing so so clearly don’t. the seams look as though they’re about to burst at any minute, not that it would be an issue if they did. you’re sure there’s a sewing kit around here somewhere.
“why would we sell whisky at a hardware store?” it takes an immeasurable amount of effort to look at his face again; so much so that you offer yourself some mental praise once your eyes meet his own once more. they’re deep and chocolaty, with the slightest hint of danger. it’s funny, really; you’re sure he’s trying to make himself seem threatening, but it just makes you yearn for his touch even more.
“why do you sell lollipops at a hardware store?” he points to the glass jar that had evaded you mere moments before, “i don’t think many of your customers would be a fan of…” he narrows his eyes to read the label, smirking a little when he does, “strawberries and cream? how cute.”
he shoots a devilish grin in your direction, trying his hardest to make you aware of the fact that the compliment is for you. that you’re the cute one for keeping these lollipops on the desk, close enough for you to just reach in and grab one whenever your sweet tooth needs satiating. the way your nose wrinkles at the comment only makes him chuckle.
“some of the customers have kids,” you defend their position on the counter like your life defends on it.
“and some of the staff have cravings to satisfy,” he replies playfully. you squeeze your thighs together so hard that the muscles begin to ache.
“listen,” you put your book down on the side, not at all caring about losing your page. in all honesty, it’s the last thing on your mind right now; christian trudo and his cousin marcel—or whatever their fucking names were—can wait a little while. there’s something far more interesting in front of you right now, “if you want whisky, my boss keeps a bottle in the back. i can’t legally sell it since we don’t have a licence but i’m sure the old bastard could go without a glass or two.”
“are you inviting me back there for a drink, little lady?” he leans down to your level, tipping his hat back so that his eyes are still on show. some strange force pulls your forward in your seat until your chest is pressed firmly against the counter. you don’t bother to look down at the way it makes your cleavage bulge—he does it for you. his eyes grow wide and his pupils swell as if he’s just fallen head over heals with your breasts. you don’t blame him; you’ve fallen head over heals for his too.
“i might be,” you shrug, a dangerous grin of your own tugging on your lips, “you’ll owe me though! i could get into big trouble for stealing my bosses liqueur.”
his eyes don’t leave your cleavage easily, slowly dragging up your chest and your neck until they reach your face.
“oh? and what might you have in mind, ma’am?”
his breath is hot on your face, although that might just be the all-consuming lust. it makes you tingle from your head to your toes, like a thousand volts of electricity are being fired up and down your spine each second. with each twitch of your hips, you feel the sticky mess you’ve already made in your underwear, and you can’t help but shift them again to try and find some relief. if you were a weaker woman, your fingers would already be up the front of your skirt, dancing away on your clit.
“well, those jeans do look awfully tight,” even tighter with the tent he’s sporting, “they must be mighty uncomfortable—perhaps it’s best we get you out of them, hm?”
he hums in approval.
“i could say the same about your corset,” there’s something daring in him as he reaches a hand forward to drag a hand over the top of your breasts that rise and fall with each heavy breath. it hitches, stuttering in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers blaze a trail of fire across your skin, “it’s a wonder you can breathe in this pretty little thing.”
his hand pulls away and suddenly you can breathe again. you suck in a deep breath that makes your lungs burn, and then sigh it out heavily. “my boss likes when i dress up a little,” you admit, “brings in the customers, and customers means money.”
“brought me in, didn’t it?” and you nod, because of course it did. the pure notion that this man had entered a store filled with nuts and bolts in the hopes of grabbing a bottle of whisky is nonsense, meaning something else had to have dragged him in. a girl could let something like this go to her head, if she didn’t already know just what a pretty smile and a wink could do to the men in this town.
the man straightens up once more, allowing you to come eye to eye with the bulge that strains against the zipper of his jeans. would it be crude to lean across the counter to mouth at it? to get the denim all wet with your drool as you lick stripes up and down the silhouette of his cock? perhaps, and yet a strange part of you just doesn’t seem to care. the grandfather clock in the corner tells you it’s another couple of hours until you close, but maybe that’s exciting? the idea that anyone could walk in and see you on your knees for a man you met mere moments ago…
the ache between your thighs is becoming downright unbearable.
“i have an idea, little lady,” he pulls at least half of your attention away from his member, though it never quite leaves your line of sight, “how about we leave the drink until after the payment, hm? you can get me out of these tight jeans, i’ll get you out of that little corset, and then to celebrate our newfound comfort, we can split that bottle of whisky! sound good?”
and it does. really good, actually. borderline the best idea you’ve ever heard! but the shop…
oh, fuck the shop. it’s not like you’ll be able to work in this state anyway; so horny that you’re sure the grinding of your hips it bound to have caused structural damage to the stool you’re perched on. you can’t serve customers when your thoughts are focussed on stuffing a cowboy’s cock down your throat, now can you? it’s best to fix problems like this as soon as possible, you find.
“that door there,” you gesture to the store cupboard in the corner of the store, “there’s an old leather armchair in there. if you go and take a seat, i’ll be there to rid you of those jeans in just a moment.”
a quick nod and he’s heading off, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder as you stand up and straighten out your skirt.
“i’ll see you in a minute, little lady,” he drawls, accent thick with lust, “me and the little guy will be waiting patiently!”
you stifle a laugh. little? he must have a very strange idea of what that word means.
“oh, yeah?” you call after him, “well, you and the little guy ought to tell me your names before we get too acquainted, don’t you think?”
the door to the storeroom creeks as it opens.
“the names san.”
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