(1.21.21) Prize - M, 0.8k [D*]

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["You just know that you're blinking awake, and she's perched beside you all smug and stupid-looking like she just won a prize."]


Every word that ever slipped from your sharp tongue was poisoned to perfection. Crafted from wit, and precision, and rigor, then that bout of confidence... You'd forgotten what it was like to have them unravel, didn't you? You'd forgotten that another person could goad tones and syllables from your mouth without so much a vowel of their own.

Of course you did. Which made it all the more startling just how easily your voice slipped into the room. Guttural. Pitched. All things so unlike your usual snark. 

Your fingernails dug deeper into her shoulders as her breaths sank into your skin, right to your collarbone. Everything is tight, like a spring of a mousetrap winding and winding and winding until the inevitable snap of the coil, and the break of some vermin's back. But you had yet to feel any sort of release. The tension curled between your shoulder blades as she pumped her fingers against the molten sex of your inner walls.

She always knew how to piss you off. Since day one—and back then, it wasn't even on purpose. Though, from day two onwards, it always had been. But you liked it. She kept up with you. In so many ways, she did. To the point where the roles were switched.

And now you beg, irritated: "Would you stop and just—"

"What?" she hummed, her pace still at a taunting speed. "You know it feels better the longer you wait."

That wasn't the point. You'd been at each other's throats for the past week, and your ex was still as irritating as ever, and Sikowitz, and all the plays, and...the fucking ducks that decided to spend their winter by your house. 

"Tori, I swear, if you don't—"

She kisses you with a resigned groan. Tori is quick to send your heart hammering like a jackrabbit, and before you can even register it, the trap snaps down on the vermin's neck and you give a stunned scream of your own. Right along the one spot inside you, she rubs, without cease. You swallow, because now she's going too far.

You pant as tremors surge throughout your body. "T-Tori!" you warn. "Quit. That."

Tori doesn't stop. She just bites your shoulder, and plunges her fingers in a final time.

You don't even remember crashing back into your sheets. You just know that you're blinking awake, and she's perched beside you all smug and stupid-looking like she just won a prize. And you just stare at the ceiling, jaw tense.

Tori giggles from beside you, and says, "You were out for like three minutes."

With another coil of your jaw, you turn away further from her and glare at the bedroom door. "You're a bitch..."

"Uh huh."

"'Uh huh,'" you parrot as a sour retort.

Her arms find their way around your waist, and she pecks the curve of your shoulder softly. You know she's waiting for you to say something—anything, really, since it never mattered what it was the times before. But you don't, only to tighten your brows together.

"Jade, quit pouting," she murmurs. "I managed to give it to you all good and stuff, anyway. ...right?"

You chew the inside of your cheek. "...yeah. ...for you." She giggles, and you eye her from over your shoulder. "What?"

"You said that the last time," Tori hums. "And the time before."

"S-So?!"

Her grin is irritatingly admirable. And stupidly dorky. Especially when you consider how ill-placed it should be, in her room with her sheets bundled around her, and a mother who'd wreck havoc if she realized how much of a stupid, perverted dork her daughter is.

Not that you'll ever admit it.

Verbally. You swear she knows just from your stare alone.

Tori pecks your cheek, and she smiles, still all-too pleased with herself. "Can I have my cuddle now?"

You don't even have the gall to work your jaw. With a sigh, you mumble, "Fine. Here."

"Yay," she purrs before pressing herself cartoonishly against you, her smile wide. After a long exhale—also very animated—, Tori says, "Can we also go to Burger King after this?"

"Tori..."

"I can buy," she muffles into your shoulder.

You slowly hold her gently, cheeks warm, and you grumble, "...no, I can..."

"Thank-you," Tori murmurs. The room is quiet, and peaceful. She's warm and soft, and you're still dumbfounded by how easily she can pull words out of your mouth. "...I love you."

"I love you too."

See? It's so easy for her.

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