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yuujispinkhair · 1 month ago

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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 12

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 15 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

When Sukuna and you enter the university holding hands, you know the news will spread fast. You can't help but wonder what kind of gossip people will share about the two of you. After all, Sukuna isn't just anybody but the star player of the most successful ice hockey team this college has had in many decades. And on top of that, he is infamous for being the guy who doesn't date.

Well, things have changed.

You smile softly as you lean into Sukuna's side, resting your head against his buff biceps and feeling his large hand give yours a reassuring squeeze. He is acting his usual self, strutting down this hallway as if he owns it, head held high, arrogant smirk perfectly in place, fixing the people around you with a condescending stare.

But he doesn't even try to keep your new relationship low-key or hide it from the public eye. It makes your stomach flutter as you stroll down the hallway and Sukuna never lets go of your hand. You reach your classroom and Sukuna grins his most charming grin before he leans down to kiss you on the lips, right there in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see.

It's a lingering, slow kiss, leaving no doubt about what it means. Sukuna's large tattooed hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, flicking his tongue teasingly against yours before he slowly pulls away with that typical sexy smirk on his handsome face,

"Have fun in class, princess. And don't forget your lunch date with your boyfriend."

He grins at you, the tip of his tongue playing with one of his sharp canines as he watches you with an amused but also intense look.

Boyfriend.

Hearing Sukuna say that word makes your tummy fill with butterflies. A breathless chuckle escapes your lips,

"As if I would ever forget my boyfriend. But just to make sure, why don't you pick your girlfriend up from class?"

You grin up at Sukuna with a racing heart, delighted to see his Adam's apple bob and his long lashes flutter for a moment. You don't seem to be the only one who gets flustered by the use of that new name.

Sukuna's large hand lands on your head, ruffling your hair, before he finally pulls away with a wink and tells you to hurry up so your professor won't have a reason to berate you today.

You have your little lunch date a few hours later, sitting at your usual table, Sukuna's table, eating and chatting about Sukuna's upcoming game and your creative writing class.

Things feel like they always do. There is no big change in the way you act around each other. The two of you follow the same routine you already developed gradually during the last few months since Sukuna came into your life.

It makes you realize just how natural it has already become to be by Sukuna's side almost all the time. Even before you got together, you already met on campus every morning, chatting and joking around while Sukuna walked you to your classes, carrying your heavy books and ruffling your hair. You already went to lunch together all the time, and later on, met in the library to study and eat the snacks Sukuna prepared, your hands brushing over each other when you reached into the snack box at the same time.

Everything is still the same, but, at the same time, it isn't. Because now, Sukuna holds your hand as you walk down the hallway. Now he kisses you openly, not just behind closed doors or when he's drunk, but in the middle of the crowded hallway. And at lunch, he holds your hand on top of the table, his long tattooed fingers absentmindedly playing with yours while he complains about one of his teammates.

And you rest your chin on your other hand, watching your boyfriend with a dreamy smile, thinking to yourself that somehow it feels as if it was always meant to happen this way.

Nobara is very smug about your relationship update. She found out about it the day after your date in the hockey arena because she walked in on Sukuna and you sharing a deep kiss in the living room. She made a disgusted noise and banged her door shut again, but when Sukuna left an hour later to go to the gym, Nobara cornered you immediately, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed in front of her chest, a triumphant grin on her face,

"So, you and Kirby, huh? I knew it!"

You shrugged helplessly, unable to stop the big smile from spreading over your face when you admitted,

"Well, I guess you saw it coming sooner than I did."

Right now, she's lounging lazily on the couch, waving around her fingers to let her nail polish dry while watching you with a knowing look as you check reflection a few times too often in the mirror next to the front door.

"Are you seeing loverboy? Not that I am complaining, by the way. I prefer it when you visit him, so I don't have to see his stupid face."

You huff loudly, turning around to give her a stern look,

"Nobara! Sukuna can actually be really nice! If you would get to know him better, then.."

But Nobara interrupts you, laughing and rolling her eyes,

"I'm just teasing you. I don't mind. Just make sure he doesn't drink all the milk when he's staying here."

With that, she turns around again, lifting her freshly manicured hands in front of her face, inspecting her work, and you stand there with a grin spreading over your face. Maybe Sukuna is growing on your dormmate after all.

"There's a hockey party at our dorm tomorrow."

Sukuna is lying on his bed with one buff arm behind his neck, cat-like maroon eyes watching you lazily, and a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face. He looks so good that it should be illegal. Only wearing his stupid low-sitting grey sweats, so his buff pecs and taut abs are on full display. You don't even know where to look. There is just so much of him, big and broad and so gorgeous with all those muscles and the smooth tattooed skin everywhere.

You have to forcibly shake yourself out of staring at Sukuna with heart-eyes, but when you manage it, you raise an eyebrow teasingly,

"So what are you trying to tell me with that info, Kuna? That we can't see each other tomorrow?"

Sukuna rolls his pretty eyes, his lips lifting in an equally teasing and amused grin,

"Don't play clueless, sweetheart. You know damn well why I'm telling you that."

You grin at Sukuna, leaning closer to him, playfully blinking at him and batting your lashes,

"Hmmm, maybe you have to spell it out for me, baby."

A low, raspy laugh falls from Sukuna's mouth, and he reaches out with his free hand, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb slowly over your lower lip. His intense maroon gaze never leaves you when he whispers in that sexy low drawl,

"I want you to accompany me to that party. Or, to make things even clearer for you, I want you to be my date. Now, what do you say, princess?"

You feel a bit light-headed from the fluttery feeling in your stomach that Sukuna's words cause. Asking you out on your first official date. You can't stop grinning as you nod, pressing a little kiss to Sukuna's thumb that's still resting on your lower lip,

"I say yes."

Your grin turns into a surprised squeal when Sukuna's arms wrap around you and pull you on top of him.

You enter the party on Sukuna's arm and instantly feel intimidated. The apartment is much bigger than Sukuna's and Yuuji's, and the whole place is bustling with people.

You tried to reassure yourself beforehand that this is just a regular college party. But now that you are here, you can't deny anymore, what you already knew deep down. This isn't just a normal college party. It's the kind of party you have never been invited to before.

The large apartment is filled with only the most popular people the campus has to offer. Admired athletes, popular jocks, and just as popular cheerleaders, beautiful sorority girls, and rich daughters and sons of all kinds of important people.

It's a crowd you aren't used to. A crowd that is very good at excluding people like you, who aren't considered anything special in their eyes. Just a boring creative writing student whose name no one has heard before.

Technically, you know that not all of the popular people are like that. Most of Sukuna's teammates are really ok, and the girls in your classes who are also athletes are nice, too. Even Gojo Satoru was easy to get along with when you interviewed him.

But tonight, the large apartment is bustling with people you have never talked to before, and their heads instantly snap to you as Sukuna and you enter the party. Their stares make your stomach clench nervously. You can imagine how Sukuna and you must look to them: The star player of the hockey team, the King of the Ice, and next to him the nameless girl, who is clinging nervously to his large hand while her heart beats up to her throat.

You feel Sukuna's thumb caresses your wrist lightly. A sweet, reassuring gesture that makes you let out the breath you had unconsciously been holding. Sukuna leans down to murmur in your ear,

"Don't be nervous, princess. Just focus on me. Those insects don't even deserve your attention."

You laugh at his words, grateful for how he makes you feel more at ease. Sukuna flashes you one of his most charming smiles and gently tugs you along into the kitchen, where the whole hockey team is gathered, all cheering and whistling loudly when their star player enters. Sukuna returns all the high fives and takes a shot glass from the huge tray that Todo is passing around.

Just when you want to take a step back so the players can drink together, Sukuna's strong arm stops you, keeping you right there by his side. Todo and Yuuji join you, offering you a vodka shot because "You are Sukuna's lucky charm, so you count as an honorary team member!"

You burst out laughing, smiling gratefully at them as you lift your glass to join in on the player's toast. The small room keeps getting fuller as more people come looking for the hockey players, and Sukuna grins at you and lifts you up, setting you on the kitchen counter so he can stand between your legs. His tattooed face comes closer to yours, maroon eyes gazing deeply into yours, and your pulse races. Your hand cups Sukuna's cheek right when his lips brush over yours.

Sukuna's kiss makes your head spin with the way he licks into your mouth and how his large hands wrap around your waist while he pushes his body between your legs.

The rest of the party is far from your mind when you have Sukuna's tongue in your mouth, but unfortunately, you can't make out the whole evening. Sukuna's teammates demand his presence, and you need to go to the bathroom. So you excuse yourself, smiling when Sukuna ruffles your hair before you walk out of the kitchen.

This time, you feel more at ease when you enter the living room, an effect of the alcohol and Sukuna's kisses. But only after a few steps, you feel the atmosphere shift again. The scrutinizing gazes are back.

Spending time with Sukuna on campus already put you in the spotlight, but that felt different somehow. Maybe because a few days ago, you were just the mysterious girl who sometimes walked next to him or the lucky charm he brought to his games. Maybe you seemed like no competition. Like no one important. Just another little fling. Just another replaceable puck bunny. But now you are the girl who took the star player of the ice hockey team off the market, and everyone seems to ask themselves how you managed to do that. It feels as if you get put under a microscope, inspected curiously, and every flaw is analyzed and frowned upon.

You try to ignore the murmurs and stares, even while internally, a storm is brewing in you. Self-doubts mix with anger and dig their claws into your heart. You are relieved when you reach the bathroom and can lock yourself in it, escaping from the gazes and murmurs for at least a few minutes.

You take your time washing your hands, letting the ice-cold water run over your wrists as you look at your face in the mirror.

Come on, don't be stupid. It's just a party. Let them talk. They are just curious because Sukuna has never brought a date before. Just get back to the kitchen and enjoy the rest of the evening!

You steel yourself, straightening up before you open the door and exit the bathroom again.

"Does she really believe she has what it takes to be the girl at Sukuna's side?"

"Right? Sukuna is way out of her league. Who is she even?"

You draw in a sharp breath as your eyes meet the ones of the two girls talking shit about you. They don't even look guilty for getting caught but just stare at you with a scornful expression.

You want to get away from here! Your first instinct is to flee into Sukuna's strong arms, but a wall of football players who are raising their beer bottles and toasting each other is blocking your way. Your gaze lands on the door leading to the balcony. Before you even think about it, your feet carry you towards it.

You step onto the large balcony, deeply inhaling the crisp night air as if you are drowning. You grip the railing tightly, looking at the dark sky above you, internally screaming at yourself to stop being so stupid! Why do you let that random gossip affect you?

You know they were just talking shit. You know Sukuna better than they do! You know what the two of you have is real. But hearing those words still bugs you. They feed the demon inside you that whispers to you that maybe you are really not good enough to be the woman by Sukuna's side. Tears prick at your eyes, but you clench them shut, refusing to cry.

But before you can spiral further, a familiar low, velvety voice speaks up behind you,

"What are you doing out here, princess?"

The tight grip of your hands around the balcony railing loosens when you feel Sukuna's muscular arms wrap around you. You instantly relax into his embrace, leaning against his tall, firm body, chiding yourself silently for letting those judgemental gazes and mean comments get to you and fill your mind with doubts.

"I just needed some fresh air."

You feel Sukuna's warm breath on your neck when he laughs his sexy, low laugh. His lips brush over your neck, and then they open, and his hot tongue glides teasingly over your sensitive skin, making your pulse race and butterflies dance in your belly. You are about to get lost in Sukuna's closeness, in his touch, in the warmth of his buff body, and the feeling of his lips on you, but he is too perceptive, analyzing you too closely.

"Tell me what's wrong, princess."

His arms tighten around you, and he nuzzles his warm lips against your neck,

"You suddenly bolted from the room. Right when I was about to come over to you. Are you feeling sick or something? Do you need me to bring you home? I'll do it, you know that, right? Fuck that boring party. Let's go and get you into bed and watch some trash TV we can make fun of."

Your heart clenches. He is so sweet to you. So caring. It's something you never thought a guy like Sukuna could be. It makes you feel even more guilty for being so affected by some rude comment a stranger said. And so you blurt out the truth,

"I just...I heard some people say something that upset me."

You can feel Sukuna tense up behind you. His voice sounds strained when he asks,

"What did they say?"

"That you're out of my league."

Sukuna huffs. He puts his hands on your hips, turning you around. A large hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so you look up at your boyfriend's tattooed face. The usual playfulness is gone from Sukuna's features, replaced by a serious look.

"They are wrong, princess. I am not out of your league. If anything, it's the other way around."

You are about to say something to him, contradicting him, asking him how he could ever think you are out of his league, but Sukuna puts a long tattooed finger on your lips and shakes his head,

"Listen, princess. I don't give a fuck about anyone's popularity. I play hockey to win, not because I want to be some college celebrity. I despise the people who just want to be with me because they think they can gain some advantage from it. Fuck them! I invited you because when you're with me, everything is better. I want you here. You are my girl. I like having you by my side, and I am proud of showing you off. You make this stupid party 100% better for me, and if anyone gave you the feeling you don't belong here, I have something to say to them."

Your heart feels so full that you can't help but smile from ear to ear. Sukuna's lips lift in his lopsided, handsome smirk when he intertwines his long fingers with your smaller ones and watches you while he jerks his tattooed chin towards the door,

"Come on, let's go back. I have to show my face for a while longer to support my team. And you have a job to do, too, Miss. You're my lucky charm, after all. It's literally in your job description to be by my side. I might get into an accident otherwise, break a leg or some shit like that and not be able to play for weeks. We can't let that happen. Surely you understand. Now give me a kiss."

You laugh at the playful words, reaching out to put your hands on Sukuna's defined pecs, bracing yourself on his chest as you get on your tiptoes to give him a sweet little kiss on the lips before you let him lead you back into the living room.

When you were making your way through the living room on your own, you struggled to find a path through the crowd, but now you are on Sukuna's arm, and Sukuna doesn't have that problem. Anyone who sees him steps aside, making room for him. And the ones who don't see him coming get shoved to the side by Sukuna's tall, muscular body.

There's a group of guys to your left who look your way. One of them turns his head to say something to his friend. You don't catch it, but you feel Sukuna tense up beside you.

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he lets it drop, and before you can ask what's going on, Sukuna is already on the guy who grinned at you, his hands twisted in the guy's shirt, slamming him brutally into the wall behind him as if they are on the ice, and Sukuna is slamming an opponent into the boards.

A loud murmur goes through the crowd. People jump to the side, and others come closer. You see Yuuji's pink hair and hear Todo's booming voice. But all of that seems far away from you. Your focus is only zoomed in on your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend, who is glaring at the guy who apparently must have said something about you. The guy is looking at Sukuna with wide eyes, trying to splutter some excuse for whatever he said, but Sukuna shakes his head, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading over his tattooed face as he pushes the guy into the wall once more.

Contrary to Sukuna's physical force, his voice is calm, though. Deadly calm. Cooing at the guy tauntingly as a cruel smirk spreads over Sukuna's face,

"You're really fucking insane, aren't you? Daring to insult my girlfriend. Acting so tough when, in reality, you are such a pathetic little guy. Apologize to her."

Adrenaline is sizzling in your veins. Seeing Sukuna like that is making you feel light-headed. A mix of worry and strange pride and arousal flows through you. You know Sukuna has that bad boy reputation, but this is the first time you see him attack someone off the ice. It's actually fucking hot. Especially when he's doing it for you.

The guy stammers an apology, squirming in Sukuna's tight grip and trying to shake him off, but he doesn't stand a chance against the force that is Itadori Sukuna. His friends don't come to his rescue either. All of them are cowering a few feet away, apparently not wanting to get on Sukuna's bad side.

Sukuna slams him against the wall once more, his tone cold and dangerous,

"Let me spell it out for you and everyone else. She's my girlfriend. She belongs to these parties. She belongs everywhere where I belong, too. Do you understand that?"

Sukuna cocks his head, smirking that dangerous smirk, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement.

The guy nods hurriedly, eyes wide with fear,

"Yes! Yes, of course!"

And Sukuna laughs, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper,

"Now get the fuck out of my sight. I give you ten seconds. And if I ever get wind of you talking shit about my girl again, I will fuck up your whole life."

He lifts his head to let his narrowed maroon eyes scan the room slowly,

"And that goes for every single one of you."

You could hear a pin drop in the large room. The whole room is either staring at Sukuna or looking anywhere but at him, too intimidated to look at the enraged King of the Ice.

Sukuna yanks the guy off the wall and pushes him into the middle of the room, sending him stumbling into his friends, who catch him while Sukuna watches with a raised eyebrow,

"What are you still doing here, scum? I told you to run. Do I really have to start counting as if we are in kindergarten? Ten. Nine..."

It doesn't take more. The guy scrambles to his feet and practically bolts from the party, followed by his friends, accompanied by the loud booing and laughter coming from the hockey team.

Sukuna is by your side again, the cruel smirk replaced by the boyish grin you have grown so fond of. He wraps a strong arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him. His touch is so gentle, so completely different from the way he just treated the guy who talked shit about you.

"Sorry that you had to see this. But I had to be an asshole real quick. I won't let anyone disrespect you."

"It's ok. You are a very sexy asshole."

You tilt your head to grin up at Sukuna, and he meets your gaze with an amused sparkle in his maroon eyes. His arms tighten around you, and he leans down to claim your lips in a heated kiss. Making out with you in the middle of the crowded living room, letting everyone see that you are his girl.

Your eyes close, and you sigh, kissing Sukuna back eagerly, drowning in his closeness, adrenaline flowing through your veins after seeing him be so protective over you and seeing him display his affection for you in front of everyone.

Sukuna doesn't leave your side for the rest of the evening. You have some more vodka shots, get some snacks from the kitchen, and join Yuuji and Todo on the couch to chat with them about hockey and your classes and laugh about the time you were their getaway driver after they destroyed their rival teams' ice sculpture.

Sukuna pulled you onto his lap at some point, and you stayed right there, basking in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you, his warm lips occasionally trailing little kisses over your neck, and the firm muscles of his chest and abs rippling against your back anytime he laughs.

The fluttery feeling in your tummy doesn't go away the whole evening, and it even intensifies when Sukuna gives his brother and Todo high fives and tells them he and you are leaving.

Sukuna steers you out of the apartment with a strong hand on the small of your back while he walks behind you, close enough for you to feel his tall, broad body.

You walk down the staircase next to each other with one of Sukuna's arms thrown over your shoulder. Sukuna's and Yuuji's apartment is just two floors down the staircase, but before you even reach it, Sukuna has already pulled a battered cigarette pack out of his jeans pocket and lights a cigarette while his arm is still around you, making you stumble against him. He takes a deep drag and groans in satisfaction as the nicotine fills his lungs.

"Fuck, I needed that after that stupid party."

You laugh and shake your head, wordlessly pointing at the big no-smoking sign plastered to the wall right next to Sukuna. He smirks at you, raising an eyebrow as he slowly blows out the smoke,

"Who is gonna stop me? At least I'm not smoking in our apartment, so my dear brother won't throw things at me."

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation and wrap a hand around Sukuna's biceps, pulling on his arm,

"Come on, big boy, let's go outside for a while so you can smoke without getting in trouble, and I can get some fresh air. I need it too after that party."

"You're so cute, princess."

Sukuna smirks teasingly at you, but he obeys and lets you pull him down the stairs and out of the dorm.

The two of you stand on the pavement before the building, hugging closely while Sukuna smokes slowly, blowing the smoke in your face with a teasing smirk and watching you with his cat-like gaze. You sigh and roll your eyes but only snuggle closer against him, your arms wrapped around him, nails running up and down his broad back, gently scratching him as you let Sukuna's secondhand smoke and his warm embrace and the smell of his cologne calm your nerves.

It's suddenly easy again. Peaceful. Joking around with Sukuna, rolling your eyes playfully at him, and laughing with him. The party seems miles away. All that exists is Sukuna and you.

The circles he moves in are still foreign to you, but it doesn't matter, you realize. When it comes down to it, all that matters is just you and him and this thing between you. This strong connection that feels so natural and magnetic.

Of course, you say yes when Sukuna flicks his cigarette to the ground and asks if you will spend the night at his apartment. He takes your hand, intertwines his long fingers with yours, and gently tugs you along, leading you back up the staircase to his apartment, making your tummy flutter with the way his thumb is caressing your wrist.

Sukuna unlocks the door, and his lips are on yours the moment you enter the apartment. His muscular arms swoop you up, carrying you to his room, his large, calloused hands undressing you while his tongue licks slowly into your mouth. And you moan his name, slipping your hands under his shirt, pulling it up, caressing Sukuna's warm tattooed skin, running your fingers over his defined muscles, smiling when he growls into your mouth.

The two of you tumble onto the bed, never breaking the kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as you yank at your clothes. Sukuna is naked before you and gets to work on pulling your jeans and your panties off, his hands running down your legs, followed by his soft lips, making your hips buck needily, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, tugging on it, pulling him to you, needing more of him. Needing him closer. Needing all of him.

His low chuckle sends a pleasure-filled shiver down your spine as he pushes you down on the mattress. Sukuna's tall, broad figure covers you fully, his weight traps you under him in the most delicious way. His lips find yours again in another slow, deep, wet kiss. You feel his hard cock rub against your belly, hot and velvety, making you wrap your legs around Sukuna's hips in your need to get him inside you, moaning into his mouth, your hands in his hair, your body arching needily up against his buff body.

You are so wet for him just from kissing him, making Sukuna groan breathlessly when his cock slips between your legs and glides through your slick pussy lips. He pulls away for a second, but only to push into you when he snaps his hips against you, making both of you gasp when his thick cockhead splits you open.

And then it's needy, slow fucking. Sukuna keeps kissing you, deep, loving tongue kisses, his strong arms resting on both sides of your face, his muscular body moving on top of you, fucking you with slow, deep thrusts.

It's nasty but sweet at the same time. Slow sex, more lovemaking than fucking. And you melt, giving yourself fully to Sukuna, mewling into his mouth, squeezing your legs around him, digging your nails into the buff muscles of his broad back, kissing him back hungrily, gasping with every deep, slow thrust that kisses your sweet spot.

The lights in Sukuna's room are off. The only light comes from the streetlamps that shine their glow through the window. Your mind is hazy, partly from the vodka shots you had and the smoke you inhaled, but also from the giddiness at being so close to Sukuna, the exhilaration of knowing how committed he is to you, how he let everyone know that you are his girlfriend.

He fucks you so good that you cry, tears slowly running down your cheeks, while Sukuna rolls his hips against yours slowly. Letting you feel every inch of his long, thick cock. A slow, steady rhythm that makes you clench around him, sobbing into his hot mouth anytime you feel his cock pushing slowly into you until his heavy balls are resting against your ass, letting you know that he is as close to you as possible.

It feels so intimate. Making love in Sukuna's dimly lit room while the faint noises of the party two floors above you drift to your ears. But here it's only Sukuna and you. And Sukuna doesn't wear his mask of arrogant aloofness. His gaze is open, full of burning love and desire. His lips open in breathless groans, followed by whispered sweet nothings.

It's deep and intense. As if Sukuna is showing you his love for you with every slow move of his tall, broad body on top of you. With every caress of his hard cock. With every heated kiss that brushes your naked skin. With every whispered word breathed against your lips.

You cling to Sukuna needily, caressing his broad back and his firm, full ass, moaning his name in between tender but nasty open-mouthed tongue kisses, and Sukuna groans those sexy low groans that give you butterflies, not just in your tummy but also in your pussy.

"Fuck, princess. I love you. I fucking love you."

Sukuna moans breathlessly against your lips, and you clench around his cock at his soft words, caressing his back, whispering against his lips,

"I love you, too, baby. Love you so much."

You feel Sukuna's hips stutter, feel his muscles tense under your fingers. He moans and stops moving, his lips only lightly brushing over yours, panting heavily, his forehead pressing against yours as he tries to hold back his orgasm.

Sukuna pushes himself up on his elbows, his thick cock slipping out of you, only letting his fat mushroom tip caress your swollen clit. Sukuna gazes at you, his tattooed cheeks flushed, maroon eyes full of need. His large hands land on your legs, calloused fingers running slowly over your thighs and calves, making you tremble under his tender touches.

Sukuna grabs your legs and lifts them, putting them over his broad shoulders. Heated, wet kisses land on both your ankles before Sukuna snaps his hips again and fucks his gorgeous cock back into you. You cry out his name, throwing your head back on his pillow, your mouth opening in a row of mewls. The switch of position makes things even more intense. You can feel Sukuna even deeper inside you with the way he's folding you in half, making the fluttery feeling in your pussy become so intense that you sob from it.

You hear Sukuna's sexy, breathless groans and feel his strong body on top of you, his buff muscles flexing with every deep thrust. His weight presses you down into the mattress, fucking you so deep that it makes you dizzy. But he takes things slow. Savoring your first time making love to the fullest.

He leans down so his face is so close to yours that you are breathing each other's breath, your eyes locked in a deep, intense gaze as you both get closer and closer to your peak with every thrust. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel your pussy growing tighter around Sukuna's cock, the butterflies in your tummy going crazy.

"Look at me, princess. Fuck... look at me."

You moan loudly, obeying Sukuna's wish, looking deeply into his eyes, sighing anytime his fat cockhead hits your sweet spot with the most delicious precision, making a firework of bliss explode inside you with every slow thrust. You mewl desperately, nails digging into Sukuna's skin, hips lifting needily to meet his slow thrusts. Just a bit more, just a little bit more, and you will drown in bliss!

You see the moment Sukuna reaches the point of no return. See it in his heavy-lidded maroon eyes when he can't hold back his orgasm anymore. And Sukuna cums deep inside your pussy, looking so sexy and beautiful with his eyes so soft and full of bliss, his mouth hanging open with the sexiest low moans falling from his lips as he ruts against you, fucking his whole orgasm into you.

You follow him only a moment later, squealing his name loudly, your whole body shaking, pussy so tight around Sukuna's fat cock that he is gasping from it.

"Fuck, princess. Yeah, cum for me, baby, just like that. Just like that. Fuck! Milk me dry."

You are lost in pleasure, moaning and mewling as he fucks you slowly through your orgasm. Sukuna's soft lips claim yours again, swallowing your mewls, kissing you sweet and deep as he rests his heavy weight fully on you, pressing you down into the sheets while he still rolls his hips slowly against you, letting you enjoy his cock until the last waves of your high have ebbed off. Giving you his all, just like you are giving him your all.

You sigh happily against Sukuna's lips, hugging him tightly to you, your fingers playing with the short stubble of his undercut before they run down his broad, muscular back and back up again, caressing him lovingly. And he kisses you slowly with those sexy, deep French kisses. Your breathing gradually slows down again, your bodies relaxing against each other, but neither of you makes a move to let go.

The sex scene made me blush so much AAAHH 😳😳 It's not just fucking anymore but lovemaking with deep eye contact!! I am so flustered 💗😵

I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! The scene at the party where Sukuna attacked that guy wasn't planned at first, but my dear Kuna told me that he wants to let everyone know we are his girl and that anyone who gives us shit will get into trouble with the Ice King himself lol. He is so funny uwu Thank you so much for reading! I am always so happy when I can share a new chapter with you and see your reactions! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗 In the next chapter, we will have: Two dates with boyfie Sukuna (one which kind of fails, but in a funny way, and a real one). More ice hockey because Reader still has her job as Sukuna's lucky charm! And more bonding.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #sukuna #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n

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starsthewitch · 4 months ago

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Star’s beginners guide to Aphrodite worship 🐚💕

Who is Aphrodite?

Aphrodite is the goddess of love, sex, beauty, seduction, and war. She is most commonly known for her immense beauty and her many associations with sex.

What are some things she is associated with?

Doves

Flowers like roses

The colors pink, red, blue, green, white, and gold

Crystals like rose quartz, clear quartz, pearls, diamonds, sapphires, amethyst, rubies, moonstones, and aquamarines

Incense that smells of rose, cinnamon, myrrh, frankincense, vanilla, and jasmine

Her tarot cards, The Lovers, The Empress, and The Star

What can I give to her as offerings?

Shells or shell imagery

Ocean imagery

Swan and dove imagery

Heart imagery

Valentine's day gifts like chocolates

Imagery/paintings that depict her

Roses or rose imagery

Doing skincare for her

Perfumes or colognes

Hairbrushes

Mirrors

Doing your makeup

Moonwater

Strawberries, apples,and raspberries

Devotional acts or things you can do in her honor

Giving compliments to people

Collecting things you find pretty

Wearing jewelry you've offered or devoted to her

Watch or read romantic material

Self-love

Masturbation (if comfortable in doing so)

Sex (if comfortable in doing so)

Wear perfume dedicated to her

Spend time with loved ones

Create a digital altar (these can be done on Pinterest)

Write poetry about her

Write a letter to her

Create or listen to a playlist dedicated to her

Talk to her (tarot cards, dice, pendulum, and other forms of divination work just fine)

What is it like working with her?

When it comes to Aphrodite, in myth, she was often known as a wrathful and jealous goddess. However, since the myths are just stories and are known to exaggerate some details, this isn’t usually the case.

However, when people mention to others that they are interested in working with Aphrodite, they usually say that you absolutely should not. That she is needy, requires a lot of attention and offerings, that if you don’t do what she says, she will take your beauty away.

This is also not the case.

In my experience as an Aphrodite worshipper, she is very loving, along with being insanely passionate. Also being very vocal about her needs and wants.

Often getting signs from her isn’t at all uncommon. I remember the first few weeks I started working with her, I got an image on my feed that had these two eels intertwined together in a heart shape.

You will often feel connected to sea life, the sea in general, wanting to do things for yourself like dressing nicer and wanting to take care of yourself more.

Here are some things I’ve experienced in my time in working with her.

When I first started praying to her, I stuttered and fumbled over my words. A lot. I was oddly nervous about it? I’m not the type to stutter and fumble often. But beginning to feel nervous and even embarrassed in the presence of the goddess of love? Very normal.

She often enjoys getting milk and dark chocolate, along with roses or any kind of flower, real or not. I gave her chocolates, a fake rose, and a real flower for valentines day and she was insanely happy with it. So much so that her candle rested in a heart shape for a short while.

I often saw butterflies, a symbol of Aphrodite.

I often feel inclined to go to the beach, collect seashells, and do things that make me feel good.

I feel more comfortable expressing love. Before, I was never the type to use pet names for people, especially for friends. But i’ve noticed that I now call people sweet and endearing names. Honeybun, sweet pea, boo, sweetie/sweetness, and babes are things i’ve been saying lately.

She is very honest, often not sugarcoating things. I asked her when my ex first asked me out if we’d last. She said no and gave me explicit reasons as to why. Though I still went out and dated them anyway, and it pretty much ended in the way she said.

She very much enjoys art work of her. I’ve drawn her a few times, asking her to guide my hand in doing so.

Whenever I feel unattractive or hate something about my appearance, she usually makes someone compliment me that day or that week. I was having an off day with my hair, and in that same hour, a girl walked up to me and said that she loved my hair and the style it was in.

That is it for my beginners Aphrodite worship guide! I will be doing these for the other two deities I work with, Apollo and Freyja.

I do hope these were helpful. If you have any questions or need assistance with anything, my ask box and my dms are always open. So be sure to shoot me a message!

Much love to you. <3

#deity #deity worship #deity work #aphrodite #lady aphrodite #aphrodite deity #diety worship #aphrodite worship #goddess worship #hellenic altar #hellenic deities #hellenic worship #hellenic polytheism #aphrodite devotion #aphrodite art #greek paganism #paganblr

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madamechrissy · 4 months ago

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Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso isn't super submissive like most stories, but he is a sweetheart and a doll baby! Has a tongue ring for reasons. In this chapter, fingering, cunnilingus, making out, sexual tension, friends w/benefits

💜 Word Count: this chap - 9.4k

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea.

Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other? No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️ Split POV, Mostly Reader but also Choso at the beginning <3 Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️

💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜 (still in progress)

Chapter One

Choso’s POV

“What do you mean, you don’t want to be with me anymore?” Choso asks that cold fall night, voice breaking as he looks over at Yuki, who is standing in front of that movie theater, the one they had planned to go see tonight, and she’s all dressed up, her blond hair swishing as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Choso, you’re sweet but… there’s someone else I have feelings for, you’re a doll, really, but… I’m interested in him more. I never wanted to hurt you, but this was just something casual to me.” Choso breaks down then, feeling emotions wreck him, his heart thrumming in his chest, blood rushing through his veins.

“But I am falling for you, Yuki. Please.” He takes her hands then, and she sighs, Choso feels his world crumbling. “I thought you felt the same?”

Yuki looks into his violet eyes, frowning. “Fuck I feel like shit for this. But no, Choso for me it was just fun, you’re not my type exactly.”

He blinks his long dark lashes then, full lips setting seriously now at her words. “Not your type?”

“You’re gorgeous, sweet, so soft… I just need someone a little harsher, a little more manly, I’m sorry.”

He scoffs then, raising a dark brow. “Not manly, remember how I had you screaming my name over and over?” His voice is a low whisper, and he watches her reaction to them, but clearly not enough to matter.

“Well, you certainly are good at that.” Her pretty face blushes, her brown eyes looking away, and Choso starts to feel such anger, his heart clutched by her mean hands, he’d been falling for Yuki for some time now. They’d been together six months, that was not nothing and she so casually is tossing it aside.

“What did I do wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking in the middle. She is sighing then, as people walk in and out, arm in arm.

Yuki was the only girl Choso had ever been with, after having pined away for her for all of college, and finally he thought she gave him a chance. He gave all of his attention to her, even not spending time with his best friend, you, who he misses so much, because Yuki was so insecure about you.

He still tried to keep in touch and even bought you coffees and would hand them to you as he walked by your work every morning. You had been his best friend since middle school, he couldn’t not have you in his life. However your boyfriend also seemed insecure about your friendship with Choso, so there was some sad realization from both of you as you smiled so pretty and thanked him every morning.

That you all were so close it intimidated both of your significant others.

Choso had spent countless nights with you on the couch with him, watching movies, throwing popcorn at each other’s mouths to catch. Some nights you’d take his bed, and he’d sleep on the couch, other nights you’d both pass out and wake up awkwardly laughing, perhaps you’d drool, or Choso would snore. But that was all it was, friendship.

There was a time he’d wanted more, and he’d tried to tell you so many times, but you had been enamored with a boy at school, his name was Satoru, some popular white haired jock you had a thing for. You’d been in love with him all of high school in fact, so Choso had eventually let it go, the thought of more, and focused on truly being your friend. And friends only.

Then he’d seen her in Senior year, Yuki, and he’d had it so bad for her, she was so strong and feisty and enamored him. You eventually realized Gojo was not interested in you more than casually, and you had brought up something that he’d stopped, and he wishes he didn’t. He remembers it so clearly.

‘Cho, I have something to confess.’ You’d said softly, as Choso had been waiting for Yuki to come out of her class, so that he could invite her to the last dance of the school year.

‘Hey angel, what is it?’ He’d asked as he smiled at you, so pretty in your school uniform, surely by now you and Gojo were an item he figured, he didn’t know then that Gojo had hurt you.

‘Why haven’t we ever tried to… um, date? Am I not your type?’ You’d asked, looking down nervously at your Mary Janes. Choso’s mouth dropped open, for four years he had dreamed of those words, but now…

Now it felt a little too late, he was so enamored with Yuki, and you were his best, dearest friend in the world, he’d made himself resigned to that. “But you’re in love with Gojo?’

‘I thought I was, but Cho I think-’ Yuki had walked out then, and Chose had ruffled your hair and kissed your head, running after her like a lovesick puppy, just like you had with Gojo for so long.

Choso wished he’d have done that differently, but at that point he’d had feelings for Yuki, so both of you decided to stay friends, forever, no matter what, but what were you going to say? How would that have changed…

And shit, now he needs his best friend, as the girl he’s fallen so hard for so casually breaks his heart. He feels tears drip out the corners of his eyes, brushing them carefully with his thumbs, which have black nail polish chipping just a bit. Yuki sighs, shifting side to side and stepping up to Choso then, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t cry, shit… I could go about this nicer I guess. Choso Kamo, you’re a great guy, you really are, and I had fun. A lot of fun. But I need someone more serious, not in some silly rock band, I’m really sorry.” He glares then, jaw locking, as Choso’s band had certainly been doing very well, and getting much bigger. But Choso also worked his ass and made good money too.

Choso had his own house and had taken care of his little brother Yuji by himself, even putting him in college, when their grandparents who raised them passed away. He was focused on his music more lately now that Yuji was not with him, but he still made sure to have a savings, and lived pretty comfortably in his own place.

“I am serious, you’re giving me excuses about me being the problem, when it’s pretty clear you just… had someone in mind.” His brows draw together, as he brushes his hair back, half up in a bun tonight. Yuki opens her mouth to say something when a car drives right up, and it’s Suguru Geto who rolls his windows down in his silver sports car.

Choso knows Suguru from high school, Satoru Gojo’s best friend, Choso was cool with him but certainly not close. He looks at the two of you, dark eyes darting back and forth, before sinking back in his seat awkwardly. Choso’s violet eyes are wide as he stares at Yuki now, who’s biting her lower lip nervously, a hand on Choso’s shoulder again, gently.

“I’m sorry, Cho.”

“Don’t call me that.” He takes her hand off gently, he wants to smack it off but he can’t treat a lady like that, even if she’s currently awful.

“I’m sorry, man I came early I guess.” Geto says from his car, and Choso scoffs as he looks back at Yuki.

“Really, you’re not just leaving me, you’re leaving me with the man you’ve been hot for since high school?”

“Look, I am sorry. Maybe you can understand?” She says, as Choso blinks rapidly at her audacity, scoffing.

“Ouch.” Suguru says, and Choso is close to punching him, clenching his fists, covered in black rings and tattoos. Suguru was who Yuki had been in love with forever, Choso knew that, but he thought it was long gone. Suguru had moved to run a family business a year or so ago. “I’m sorry, man.”

“I don’t want to hear from you.” Choso says then, through his teeth, as he feels the situation overwhelming him, nothing about the cool night air can chill him, his skin on fire. “Go then, if that’s what you want.”

“Choso, maybe we can be friends one day? I’m so sorry.” She says then, and he laughs, covering his face, shaking his head.

“No. You’ll never be my friend.” He turns and walks away as he has to hear the sound of Suguru’s car zipping off, and her laughter out the window. Just a few days ago she’d been in his arms, he’d made her cum… fuck five times with his mouth alone, and she’d said he was the best she’d had.

How can it change so quickly?

He had a feeling he was further along in his feelings than Yuki, but he didn’t know she clearly didn’t see him as more than ‘fun’. Choso didn’t just do those things for fun, no Yuki was it for him, he’d even been contemplating getting her a promise ring, he’d gone with Yuji to shop around just last week.

He’s glad he couldn’t decide on one.

He is heading back now towards his car, contemplating calling you, fuck he needs you, needs your understanding, how you listen, your advice. You rub his hair back as he lays his head in your lap, and he’d done it for you, when Satoru had broken up with you on prom night, when you’d been such a mess in your pretty dress, and he’d danced all night with you.

When you’d picked Choso up as he’d been a drunk mess from his last girlfriend breaking up with him and took him to your place, and took care of him. He’d woken up and you’d looked so uncomfortable, he’d slept right in your lap, and you’d just sat there on the floor like that, your back on the couch. He’d bought you a massage, he felt so bad, but you’d just smiled.

You were the one who had helped get Yuji into college, his little brother had the biggest crush on you. It was adorable. He was like a lost little puppy after you, and you were so sweet with him, too. Yuji still asks about you, and when he visits he makes sure you’re coming over for dinner, heartbroken you were dating some guy named Ino now, but Choso supposes he’s nice enough.

He’s protective of you.

He wants to call you so bad, but fuck he can’t just put this on you, not when you’re on a date. Not when you all haven’t even seen each other anymore really. How can he be selfish, he doesn’t want you to feel used or feel like he’s put you on some back burner as a friend. He keeps staring at your name, but in his phone it used to be Angel 💜

Before Yuki had changed that one.

Choso leans against his car now outside the theater, where it’s quiet and the cold air is blowing more and more as fall brings in the chill, and he fixes your name right back to Angel 💜 Because why the fuck not. His heart is in pieces as he wishes he could hear your voice or see your smile. Fuck Ino was lucky…

Suddenly he sees a figure, a gorgeous shape on a woman a little bit towards the theater, he sees a nice ass and legs in a teeny dress, as the woman is shivering from the cold, then he hears her… crying. Fuck, is that you crying!? Choso runs back up to the sidewalk across from the theater, where there is a strip of restaurants, and he calls out your name, could it be…

You turn then, and he’s stunned for a moment, his breath caught in his chest as he drinks you in for a quick moment. Choso has never seen you in something like this, a tight little bodycon dress, black with silver chains around the waist, and your perfect breasts are revealed far more than he’s ever seen. He forces his eyes up to your face, then his heart breaks more.

You have mascara streaking down your cheeks, and you’ve eaten your lipstick off, just a red line on your full lips now. You sniffle when you see him, rubbing your arms, covered in goosebumps. Choso snaps himself out of it, taking off his jean jacket quickly, slinging it over narrow shoulders, and pulling you against his chest, feeling how hard you are shaking.

“What happened, angel?” He whispers, and you sob more, clinging to him now, as he buries his head down, bending low, inhaling your shampoo, some fruity scent he always loves. You’re tilting your head back to look up at him, looking so small and helpless in his big jacket, as you clutch his black dress shirt.

“I wanted to… to call you, Cho. But I didn't want to ruin your night.” He blinks then, watching your lip trembling, and he’s brushing your hair back, you’d curled it he notices, fuck you look beautiful even if you were upset. He shouldn’t think that but he can’t help it.

“You can always call me.”

“No, I can’t, Yuki hates me. Messaged me to stay away.” He rolls his eyes now, shaking his head. “It was months ago. I’m sorry I shouldn’t even be in your arms.” You pull back now, and he pulls you against him once more, looking down at you. “Cho, you’ll get yelled at.”

“You’re my best friend, I’ll hug you all I want. But also… fuck.” He takes a breath then. “It’s a long story I guess, but she fucking left me.”

“She what!? Is she stupid you spoiled the fuck out of her, and you’re so sweet, and hot… what!? You’re Choso.” You say then, and he melts, as he hugs you so tight again, and rocks you side to side.

“Fuck that for now, you’re clearly more upset. What happened? Did he… did he hurt you I’ll fucking kill him-”

“No not… he broke up with me too.”

“He what!? Is he a fucking idiot, you’re the perfect girl, so caring, and smart, and just look at you.”

“I’m a mess. Ugh. My feet hurt, Cho.” Choso turns then, and you giggle through your tears. “No way.”

“Hop up now, you don’t weigh shit. I’ll carry you to my car.” You tentatively wrap your thighs around his waist now, your arms around his neck, and he hoists you up, you squeal a bit, you’re so cute he thinks.

He shouldn’t think that, you’re just his friend, but how can he not?

“You’re the best friend, ugh I missed you. I forgot how high up you are here.” You tease, finally smiling against his cheek, before kissing it, and he’s happy you can’t see the pink on his cheeks. “I’m like fifteen pounds heavier than in high school you know.”

He rolls his eyes, you’ve got a perfect body, and have men drooling wherever you go. You’re silly not to see it. “Everyone is fifteen pounds bigger. I think it went to your ass though.”

“Cho!” You’re now laughing as he carries you down, laughing with you. “You saying I got a nice ass?”

Yeah you do, but he’ll keep it to himself for now. “I’m saying you had no ass in high school. Your pants wouldn’t stay up.”

“Neither would yours! You just gained muscle, jerk.” You tease, squeezing a bicep and making his breath catch.

“And you look beautiful, perfect, I promise. Just as beautiful as high school if not more so.” You exhale, he feels it tickling his neck as his hands press into your thighs, feeling the muscles as you squeeze him, and then the plush of your inner thighs where his thumb is pressing in.

Fuck they’re nice. Has he ever really noticed? He used to carry you around but you’d worn jeans typically, you were more casual then, he’s noticed you’ve gotten more dressy and girly with Ino. He then tenses further as you squeeze him tighter, and he feels… he feels your heat against him. He stops at his car now, easing you down, cursing himself with his eyes shut.

Choso just got hard carrying you.

He looks down as you hand him his jacket, seeing that outfit again. “Thank you for saying that, really. But even if I look good, it doesn’t matter. I am not enough for him, apparently.” You’re crying again, and he puts that jacket back on you, shaking his head, tilting your chin up.

“You know better. You’re more than good enough for anyone. Now, my place or yours? We’re far overdue for drinks and a movie session.”

“Can I sleep over at yours?”

Usually that would be so casual, but now suddenly… looking like this, he gets flushed thinking of it. “Um, of course you can. Do you wanna grab clothes?”

“No, I’ll just steal your shit.” You tease, leaning up on your tiptoes in your heels, kissing his cheek again. “I used to do that all the time.”

“I know you have so much of my hoodies, ugh.” You just grin, and he’s so happy to see you smile it melts him further, fuck he almost forgets how upset he is now that you’re here.

“Come get in, then we’ll tell each other what happened, yeah?” He holds the car door open for you, leaning over and seatbelting you in, putting him far too close to where your breasts were pushed up in your dress. He struggles to focus and find the clip of the belt, his breath against your skin, and he watches your nipples stick out under the thin material.

Fuck.

“I can do it, silly.” You tease softly, but he hears your voice is breathy, and he finally finds the clip, before sitting next to you and revving up his car, his black Mustang he’d had for years. You stretch a bit, showing too much leg when you put them on his dash, taking off your heels. “Do you mind?”

“No, of course, take em off. Never seen you in heels like that.” He tries not to focus on the fact that even your ankles and feet are pretty, let alone your calves and thighs. Fuck you have nice legs, and he shouldn’t be thinking that, so he struggles to think of the night instead. Of you being hurt, of him being hurt. Of what exactly happened so quickly.

“You’re a lifesaver, I swear.” You sigh then, leaning back, snuggling against his jacket and smiling prettily at him. He swipes some of your mascara off your cheeks when you hit a red light.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” He asks softly, you nod a little bit, biting your lower lip.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you, it’s embarrassing though…”

“You can tell me anything, remember?”

Your POV

Earlier that night

“You’re breaking up with me!?” You’d demanded then, as your boyfriend winces, you all are at dinner and everyone clearly hears you, people whispering, furthering your hurt and embarrassment.

You had been dating Ino for over six months now, that wasn’t nothing. And recently you both had gotten physical, too, something completely new to you, even at age twenty three. Ino had been your first, and you thought it…

“Did it mean nothing?” You whisper furiously, his brows draw together, and his eyes close. “My first time, you knew that. Why do it if-”

“I have feelings for you, you’re so beautiful and sweet. I swear it’s nothing you did, okay?” He touches your hand and you glare, smacking it off.

“It’s not you, it’s me? You’re saying that fucking line, Ino!?”

“Will you calm down-”

You stand then, scoffing. “Calm down, fuck no. We just did that, you just took it and now you- was I that bad?”

He stands, taking your shoulders and leading you out front, into the freezing night air, and you’re shivering. He takes off his jacket and you throw it on the ground, glaring as he sighs, his head falling back. “You are great, I swear. It’s not the physical, it’s more… you’re so immature.”

You scoff now. “Me, immature? You can’t even do anything without trying to please your family, I do shit on my own.”

“Or with your friend?”

You scowl now. “Don’t you bring up Cho, it’s not like I’ve hung out with him one fucking bit. Because you’re so insecure. And he’s a far better man than you! He wouldn’t leave someone after… that.”

“Listen I know it was important to you, I just have to tell you, there’s someone else in my heart.” You gasp now, stepping back. “She’s been in my heart, and now she’s finally agreed to date me.”

“So I was a fucking placeholder? Could you not have fucked me then, because it really wasn’t shit.” He stumbles back now, glaring down at you. “Could have fucked someone much better.”

“You seemed to like it-”

“I faked it. You can’t make girls cum with no foreplay, fucking idiot.”

“I fingered you-”

“For two minutes. Yeah then you went like two minutes. No I didn’t cum, fucking idiot. But I was okay with that, we could like learn from each other. I thought our relationship was doing so well, I thought I was falling for you.” You feel your tears threaten now, and Ino sighs, holding your shoulders gently.

“You’re a beautiful, smart girl, and successful. You’ll have whoever you want.”

“But I was with you. Because I wanted to be. What did I do to fuck it up, will you just tell me?”

“You fucked nothing up. It’s just… shit.” His phone rings then, and you see a name on the caller ID, Ino’s ex. You glare now. “It’s not what you think.”

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her while you fucked me.”

“I didn’t, plus me and you used condoms.”

“And!? The point!?”

“Jesus, you’re so dramatic. She’s much easier.”

“Easier!” You shove him then, turning and stomping away, and Ino chases you, grabbing your wrists. “Fuck off.”

“Let me take you home, it’s freezing and you’re in heels. You can’t just walk, please I know I hurt you, but I can’t let you just walk alone in the night.” You glare through your tears back at him, and watch him gulp, as he takes breaths, cupping your face tenderly, but it’s disgusting to you. “You looked so perfect tonight, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I know you were excited.”

“Why ask me on a date to break up with me?” You ask, choking on your sobs, fuck you thought he was the sweetest, the relationship had consisted of him doing everything for you, he was kind and caring and gentle. And he’d said he was falling in love with you.

You waited five months to sleep with him, you were a virgin (thanks to pining away for popular Satoru Gojo most of your school life) and then after so long of being one, you’d figured you would wait. The only man who you’d thought of sleeping with was your best friend, Choso, not that you’d ever let him know, or anyone know, you’d shoved that down.

And fuck you want to see him, you miss him so much, since you both had quit hanging out, his girlfriend hates you, and Ino doesn’t like Choso. So you’d stopped talking, aside from Cho sweetly bringing you a coffee every morning at work, smiling down at you with his gorgeous grin, always decked out in some goth outfit that fit him like a glove.

You still watched his rock shows from the back, he didn’t notice you, but even if they both didn’t like you as friends, you’d made a promise in middle school to be friends forever. A pinky promise at that, and both you and Cho quietly kept that, even if he didn’t know that you were there, supporting him.

Long ago you’d hoped for a chance, but you’d been so blinded by a Satoru Gojo infatuation you think you let his opportunity slip, and then you decided you’d be his friend, and his friend only. And how you need him now, to hold you while you cry, to listen to you, to stroke your cheek with his tattooed hands, covered in that dark polish you used to paint for him.

You miss him, you miss your friend.

Ino is still talking, and leaning down, almost as if to kiss you, and you smack his face, making his mouth drop open. “What’s that for?”

“What are you doing?” You demand angrily, the cold night air doesn’t serve to cool you down, your skin is on fire.

“Kissing you goodbye.”

You laugh then, through your tears. “Oh hell no. Fuck off, and never talk to me, ever again.”

“We could be friends? I really do care for you.”

“I will never be your friend. Ever. Now let me go.” He does then, but as you try to walk away he’s following you. “Go!”

“Let me pay the bill and I’ll drive you. Or let me get you a ride, please, it’s not okay to let you go like this.” You roll your eyes at him, stomping away now.

“My life is none of your concern now. I’ll walk.”

You want to call Choso so damn bad, fuck… but you know he’s with Yuki, shit he was thinking of serious things with her, he’d been in love with her so long. You could not ruin that for him, or bring your problems to him, you all could not have that relationship anymore, you couldn’t be that close.

You’re sobbing as you look at his name in your phone, it was Cho Bear 💜 But Ino had gotten mad, so you’d just changed it to Choso. As you walk down this long street, your tears falling and freezing your cheeks, you change it then, smiling just a bit, back to Cho Bear 💜 Because, fuck Ino.

Then you keep walking, as it all starts to hit you, that Ino had taken your virginity, and fuck you made him wait so long you did not think he just wanted to fuck, no he wanted a relationship and you weren’t good enough, even though you tried to give him your everything. You were some placeholder for him until his ex-girlfriend took him back, it was all some time waster to him.

Sex the couple times you all did it was truly not good, it didn’t hurt or anything and he was gentle, but you didn’t get pleasure. You’d had to rub your clit to feel anything and then it was too quick for you to cum, having to bust out a rose toy later on each time, it was about four times you all had fucked. You assumed it would get better but it never did.

So you kind of turned him down a bit, and maybe that is why he didn’t want you, but you were still a good partner, you tried to just get him off instead though, because you wondered if something was wrong with you. Now you wonder if something was just wrong with him.

Not that you ever want a damn boyfriend again, but you wouldn’t mind actually fucking, it seems so wasted all these years, you’re twenty three and the last damn virgin you knew, aside from Cho, but you’re sure he fucked Yuki by now. And you’re sure that man can fuck something about those big ass hands and long fingers…

You shouldn’t think of him like that

He’s only your friend, and barely that now.

Your feet are aching as you near a movie theater, where you and Ino had your first date, and you break down then, on the sidewalk, shivering and holding yourself as sobs wrack your body. You’re so mad, so upset, you can barely stand it, shivering in the night and your feet want to die. You need to order a ride, but you’re shaking so bad it’s hard to hold your phone.

Suddenly, you hear it, your name, and it’s…

Is that Choso!?

Now you are sitting on Choso’s black leather couch in his living room, one of his shirts swallowing you. He’s huge, buff and muscular, and way taller than almost any guy you knew, his shirt hits your knees and he chuckles when he sees you in it. You’d washed your face, thankfully Choso kept your things under his sink still, fresh faced, eyes puffy, your hair in a bun with one of his pony tails.

His violet eyes light up when you all talk, past the horrible moments of both of your nights, and now you all are watching one of his dumb horror flicks, with the stupidest fake blood there was. You’re both sipping on ice cold beers, throwing your heads back with laughter, it feels so good, so comfortable you think, to relax, to be yourself.

You’d definitely tried to live up to Ino’s expectations, to what his ex was like, so put together and perfect, but with Choso you could be yourself, bare faced in a big Nirvana shirt. Choso wraps his arm around you then, and he’s bare chested, just his black sweats on, and you try to ignore how good his skin feels against yours, how good he smells, how good he feels altogether.

Choso was so handsome, tattoos across his ribs, bands of more tattoos on his shoulders, a partial sleeve on one arm that goes down to his hands. Big hands, one touching your waist, taking it over completely, your shirt scrunching as he’s laughing at a part of the movie. Your body reacts violently, more so than when he’d leaned across you to seat belt you in.

You can’t ruin this, you can’t.

But he’s got you wet just leaning close and laughing, grabbing the popcorn bowl and standing then, as your eyes drink in his body, the firm well formed pecs and flat brown nipples, his rippling abdomen. Your eyes dip to his dark trail of hair below his belly button, throat going dry, and why when you’ve seen him plenty over the years, you have always known he’s hot.

“Want another one, angel?” He asks, and the name makes you blush for some reason, as you nod shyly, fiddling with the edge of his shirt on your thighs.

“Yes, please. Thank you!” He saunters to his kitchen, bending down and you see the strong muscles of his back when he stands. He swipes his hair back as he hands you another, it’s loose and hits his collarbone, as he smiles softly at you, sitting back next to you again. “Damn Cho Bear, working out?”

“That nickname, shit it’s been a minute.” He sips on his beer, leaning back on the couch now, and you watch his Adam's apple bop up and down under a little bit of stubble that’s grown. “You look like you’re working out too.”

“Mmm, just a couple times a week, nothing like you. I only do the treadmill and read my books on the phone.” He laughs then.

“Reading porn while getting in steps?”

“Hey!” You shove at him a bit, then he sets both of your beers on his little glass table, tickling you now. You’re gasping for breath, twisting and turning as he’s grinning over you, fingers tickling your waist. “Stop, stop shit!”

“You’re so cute though. At my mercy.” He sticks out his tongue as he tickles you, and your eyes find his tongue ring fascinating for far too many reasons, as you overheat, and you realize he’s between your thighs. You tense now, since you didn’t even have on anything but crotchless panties you’d worn tonight, and he’s brushing against you.

He pauses then as well, looking down your body, hands gripping your waist gently, thumbs pressing into your rib cage, as he looks right at your breasts, visible under his shirt, the outline of them. He gulps and looks down further, to where his shirt had rode up your thighs, up to your hips, exposing black lace panties, that covered goddamn nothing.

He just stays there over you, his breath caught like yours, hands trembling now as he exhales, eyes looking back up at yours, his pupils so dilated, his pretty eyes look black, his eyes lidded and heavy suddenly. You arch your hips up just slightly, and he lets out a soft moan from the back of his throat as he looks there, as he sees you, a hand moving to press on your tummy.

“Cho, I’m not um… I’m wearing…”

“He didn’t fucking deserve to see that.” He whispers then, and your breaths come even quicker, as you’re slowly reaching a hand up to his chest, feeling his hot skin under your palm.

“He was my first.” You say softly, and he grimaces, shutting his eyes then.

“I’m looking at you like this, when you just… fuck I should be a better friend, I’m so sorry-” He leans back but you pause him, hands firm on his biceps now.

“I don’t mind. He was my first and I didn’t cum, like not once? I don’t know if he sucked or if I sucked. But it was pretty new, only a few times before he left.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. I know you wanted it special.” He says softly, leaning down, still over you, his hair falling softly on your skin, you brush it back, mind whirling.

“It’s okay, I know you are hurt too. Um, did you like sex though?” He is blushing now, looking away for a moment, nodding. “I guess I was turning him down and just getting him off because I didn’t. It’s kind of awful of me. Maybe-”

“It was that bad? Shit. Like he hurt you?” You shake your head. “Was he selfish? Not enough foreplay?”

“You seem so experienced now, we were the last virgins in Japan.” You tease with a smile, and he leans on an elbow now, laying on his side, a hand stroking your thigh before he stops himself, cursing. “It’s okay, I like it.”

“Are you sure?” You nod nervously, as he brushes his fingers up and down your thigh, and you whimper before you can stop, covering your mouth embarrassingly, as his lips part. “Fuck you’re sexy. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No… um… Cho…” You lean up on your elbows then, bringing his attention back to your breasts, now outlined so well, he has to clear his throat, as his hand still rests on your thigh, above your knee. “Have you ever thought of fucking me?”

“Have I what!?” He sits up then, covering his face, and you panic, turning away and covering yours.

“Oh my god I’m so stupid, of course you haven’t, Yuki was your love, and I look nothing like her. And-”

He pauses you then, hands on your shoulders, and you can’t bear to look at him. “No, no, you’re beautiful, of course I have, I just got embarrassed, like you knew I have or something.”

“Y-you find me attractive?” You ask, not looking at him still, he has to tilt your head to him, sighing.

“Of course I do, I always have. There was a good three years of pining for you in high school, and you’ve just gotten hotter. But I never wanted to lose our friendship.”

You take a breath now, turning and looking up at him, a hand trailing down his abdomen, watching it flex under your touch. “So, what if we have sex, like maybe you can teach me things? And just sex, nothing else. No strings attached.”

“I’m in a dream.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I am, you’re in this shirt, looking so beautiful, asking me to fuck you?”

“Well, yes. I wanna get off and enjoy it. Also I don’t ever wanna date again, at least not any time soon. I imagine you don’t either.”

“Oh fuck no I don’t wanna date. I don’t think I can take that pain again.” You cup his face gently, and he kisses your palm, as you feel your pussy clench around nothing at just thinking of it. “You sure you wanna do this? You’re so new to sex.”

“You are too, though you seem to have had a better time.” You say with a giggle, and he tilts his head to the side.

“Did he not prep you at all?”

“Um, he fingered me for a minute. But I was really dry, and it’s not dry when I play with myself.” Choso’s bright red now, his eyes bugging out. “Shit, TMI?”

“I mean…” He clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at you. “No, if we do this I think we should be so honest, we’re best friends we can really do that.”

“Exactly! Give each other instruction, on our bodies. Right, and I’m comfortable with you, you’d never hurt me.” You say with a soft smile, as you scooch closer, and you hear his breath catch, his hands trembling a bit as you take one, putting it on your chest, where your heart races. “Just sex, and no feelings. Any other rules?”

“Yes, if you find someone else, please tell me.”

“Of course, and same with you! Honesty all around.”

“Pinky swear?” He holds one out, and you giggle, nodding, wrapping your finger with his, then you’re both sitting there, his other hand still on your chest. “Did he not eat you out?”

It’s your turn to blush. “No, he licked it for a second before the first time, but I am not sure it counts.”

“And no one has?” You shake your head again, and now his hands slide down your body, pressing into your hips, he watches you gasp, your head leaning back, eyes fluttering shut. Your body has never felt like this, never responded this way. “So I have a request then, for us to do this.”

“Of course, anything you want, Cho Bear.” Anything for him to keep touching you, fuck he’s leaning down now, and you can’t take it, seeing sweet Cho Bear so sexy. You knew it was there, but you’d never seen it.

“Let me pleasure you only tonight, then we’ll do more if you really like it.”

“But I wanna do things too!” You pout, and he smiles, leaning even closer, his lips a breath away, noses touching.

“You can next time. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum, as a friend you know.” He whispers against your ear, Choso Kamo, Cho Bear, your sweet little best friend…

Fuck he’s grown up, huh?

And fuck he’s turning you on breathing against your cheek more than Ino did touching you, fucking you. Your body eagerly reacts, to the point it’s ridiculous, but you nod then, shyly. He chuckles a bit, as he picks you up suddenly, and he’s carrying you like you’re nothing, so strong and big, to his room, all goth and decked out in music posters, his guitars lined on his wall.

He lays you down on the center of his bed, with dark red blankets, fingering the hem of your shirt. “Are you comfy taking it off? I really would love to see you, but not if you’re nervous.”

He’s so goddamn sweet you think, how dare Yuki be such a bitch to your best friend, you think. You nod nervously, raising his shirt over your head now, baring yourself to him for the first time, and you can’t meet his pretty eyes. You hear him moan softly, and your eyes look at him, where he’s staring at you hungrily, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck you’re so pretty. So perfect I… fuck.” He leans over you again, the bed springs creaking under his weight, and your nipples press against his chest. “Is it cool if we kiss first? Is it too romantic?”

“I’d like to kiss you.” You respond, and he moans again, that sound makes you even wetter, as he’s kissing you for the first time, and you melt at it, at his sweet firm lips, so gently brushing yours. He gently does it again, and again, as your tongue darts between his lips, craving more. He cups your face, pulling back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You get emotional suddenly, after the horrible rejection, this sexy ass best friend of yours, who you love so much, makes you feel so seen and so noticed. “Is that cool to say?”

“Yes, it’s good with me. Thank you Cho, you’re handsome, so handsome.” He’s blushing again, so cute you think, kissing you softly, before he’s between your thighs, and now kissing a trail down your throat. “Ah!”

“You taste sweet.” He says against your skin. “I talk alot, um if it’s annoying tell me to-”

“Choso, no I love it. You couldn’t - ah- annoy me, oh! Mmm!” He’s sucking on a nipple now, looking up under those long black lashes, as you feel the cool ball of his tongue ring on your nipple. You’re getting so wet, and gasp when he finds your clit, swirling with his thumb, and he pulls back, eyes seductive as he looks down at you.

“You’re so wet, fuck that’s sexy.” He murmurs, fingering the sticky mess, and you’re shifting your thighs for more, whining out. “And those sounds you make, oh my god.”

“Cho… please, touch me more?” You ask, and he nods eagerly, slipping a thick finger inside your eager entrance, and you’re crying out just from that, as he presses up and hits some spot that makes you gasp, seeing stars. “Cho, what!?”

“Your G spot, pretty. It’s - ah- there, mmm.” He’s leaning lower, kissing your tummy as he keeps pressing, now pumping his finger in and out, and you’re dripping down all Choso’s black rings, so wet you hear yourself, your hands now clutching the blankets tightly. “Look at you, you’re so perfect, perfect pussy.”

“Cho!” You don’t expect this, him talking so dirty, when you’ve known Choso as this sweet, innocent thing. But fuck he’s hot, as he’s sinking two fingers now, and you wince just a bit at the stretch.

“So tiny, want just one?” He asks, but you shake your head.

“I can take two.” You whisper, earning his smirk, it’s not a sweet Cho Bear smile, it’s seductive and sure, as he shoves two fingers in, and you scream out, as he’s kissing your soft tummy, then lower, and you feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Oh my… s’good I…”

“Two of my fingers aren't like normal, are they angel?” He whispers, and you shake your head in agreement.

“Thick.”

“Mmm, why don’t you cum on my fingers first, let me feel you pulsing.”

“Pulsing- wh- what- ah! Fuck!” You scream out then, feeling so intense you can’t take it, overwhelmed as he’s scissoring his two thick fingers, looking at you hungrily, and then he rubs his thumb on your clit, making you shatter. You cum all over his fingers, soaking his entire hand, as your orgasm washes over you. “Oh my god fuckfuckfuck!”

He’s moaning then, leaning up and kissing you, exhaling his sweet breath against your lips as you’re trembling violently, eyes rolled back when he slips his fingers out, still pulsing out wetness. He sucks you off his fingers then, moaning and rolling his violet eyes back, his strong cheekbones more pronounced as his cheeks hollow. Your mouth drops open at how sexy he looks, as your pussy aches.

“So yummy, I knew it.” He whispers, kissing you again, and you taste yourself, heating up more as he’s pressed between your thighs, you feel how hard he is under his sweats, and fuck he feels huge, too. You grind up and he pauses you, inhaling sharply. “Fuck don’t do that.”

“S-sorry, oh my god what was that!?” He grins then, sliding down until his face is between your thighs, and he’s spreading your lips apart, staring right at you. Your thighs close but he stops them. “Cho…”

“That was a warm up. Are you ready for me to taste you?” He asks, constantly asking permission, which touches you, and you nod then, so nervous. “Good, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“A good girl Choso you’re a freak now? Oh my, ah! Mnh!” Now he’s sliding his tongue up your slit, and you’re jerking, hips bucking up, as he’s spreading your thighs wide with his big hands, pressing into the plush of your thighs, and sliding his tongue up to your clit now, which twitches under his tongue ring. “Choso Kamo! Choso you’re… that tongue ring!? What the fuck, holding out on a friend.”

He laughs against you, breath tickling you, taking one of your hands then, putting it on his head. “I’ll make up for it and get my best friend off so much she’ll pass out if she pulls my hair.”

“Pull it? Like this?” You pull gently, and his eyes flutter shut, white teeth biting a lower lip. “You sure, it’s okay?”

“I want you to put me there please?” He asks softly, eyes big, pouting all cute, making you giggle. “Put me where you want me, and fuck my face till you cum.”

“I don’t know where!”

“I’ll lick, and you pull my hair and press my face into that spot you like, sounds good?” You nervously nod, and then his tongue is fucking devouring you, you hear the sounds of him drinking you in the night, completely lewd, the squishing obscene, and you’re a mess, screaming out as he hits your clit again.

“There, please! Is it really okay-” He nods, moaning, and you’re yanking on his hair, shoving him against your pussy, as your thighs are on either side of his handsome face. He’s moaning as you do, grinding against the bed, flicking his tongue so fast you cum even harder than his fingers, and his tongue ring is flicking on your clit now, the sensation making you gush out.

You’re so overwhelmed as your toes curl, as your eyes roll back, and you’re grinding your hips against his face, and he’s sliding his hands to your ass, gripping the fat of it and yanking you closer, burying his face further, sucking your clit into his mouth, and making you fall apart again. Your hands are enwrapped in his silken hair, as his eyes look up at you then.

Your heart falters in your chest then, as he’s sucking on your clit, vibrating it with his moans, and your orgasm washes over you in waves, you stop pulling his hair, instead you’re gently holding his face as your hips roll back, overstimulated now. He takes a breath as he watches you, finally leaning up, the lower half of his face covered in your slick.

You’re a twitching mess, tears in your eyes when he licks his lips, smiling up at you now. “You all right, Angel, too much?”

“It’s a lot but holy fuck. It’s amazing.” You say softly, earning his grin brightening his face, as your emo best friend lights up, between your thighs. “How do you breathe like that!?”

He chuckles. “It’s a talent. Do I really have to stop, I wanna get you off more.” He pouts again, and you’re barely able to stand when he kisses your pussy again, he’s so good you’re just infuriated Yuki got this, that anyone did, it’s that good.

“I’m so sensitive- mmm!”

“Good, one more for me could you please? You’re so yummy, please.” You giggle then, breathless, your body on fire at how good you feel.

“Oh god, I mean a little more. You’re way too good at this, I’ve never even gotten myself off that good.”

“How do you get yourself off?” You blush even as he’s kissing the lips of your pussy.

“Um, rose toy. But that tongue ring of yours? Hits so much better.” He’s kissing your pussy over and over, sliding his finger back in, you’re so soaked it’s stupid, a mess under your best friend, and his eyes crinkle just a bit as he smiles up at you.

“You look so sexy when you cum.” You’re covering your face nervously, and he laughs softly, pulling them down by the wrists. “You do.”

“You don’t have to say all that.”

“I mean it. I would never say what I don’t mean.” You get emotional again, you don’t know if it’s the night, or how hard you’ve released all that tension built up, or if it’s… if it’s Choso, looking at you like that.

Friend, friend, friend.

Right?

You can keep it casual, if anyone can it’s you and Choso.

Right?

“Only if you want more, of course.”

“Oh, I might pass out. But yes, please.” Choso smiles again, and dives back down, now he’s using his finger and hitting your spot, and lavishing your clit with his tongue, as his free hand slips up and squishes a breast in his big hand, and you’re gasping for breath as all of your senses focus on pleasure, fading out your vision, your grip of reality.

Fuck you’re not mad he ate Yuki out, you’re furious Choso ever ate anyone out but you, and you’re so mad you had been just missing this for all these years. He’s so good you wanna confess love from just how he’s flicking his tongue back and forth, how he’s pinching your nipples, and you’re clinging to his wrist now, bringing a finger to your lips, sucking on them.

He’s moaning, fingering you and lifting his mouth up as you do, as you stroke your mouth up and down, swirling your tongue, and his violet eyes glint in the night, his soft sounds from his throat making you wonder how he sounds when he cums. How he looks when he busts, how he tastes, as you suck on thick fingers, and Choso flicks his tongue one more time, and you scream around them.

You’re barely able to focus as he slides up you, and you’re crying out, as he settles between them, watching you with hungry eyes, as you pull back with a pop, blushing. “It seemed hot to do?”

“So fucking hot, shit.” He whispers, kissing you over and over now. “Are you okay angel?”

“Yes I’m better than okay, I’ve never felt like this. I should have asked for this sooner.”

“Well, we both were lovesick. Weren’t we?” He’s laying on his side, propped up on an elbow, rubbing his hand up and down your hips and waist as you turn to your side too.

“We were, and I’m done, Cho, I’m so done with relationships. I think this could be perfect, and we don’t have to change.”

“You really did change, I noticed. Not that I don’t like you dressing girly, but it’s a little different than I’m used to.”

“I know you also were trying to be so much more… serious?”

“She said not manly enough.”

“You’re manly as fuck. You’re just also sweet, and open. You don’t care about society shit, fucking love that about you. Don’t you dare change, not when you get a girl again. Promise?”

“You promise too, you’re so perfect. And if I can say…” He leans close now, and you feel yourself react, every inch of your skin sensitive. “You have the yummiest, prettiest pussy ever.”

“Oh stop! Flattering me huh?”

“No, it’s true. You do. He’s so stupid.”

“She’s so stupid.”

“Can I kiss you after or should we keep it to… like a prelude to playing? I really like kissing you.” You feel your heart stop, because every time you kiss Choso, you feel something you never have. You don’t know if it’s desire, chemistry… it’s dangerous but when he asks like that? When you want it too?

“You can, I like it alot too. But… let’s just make sure we um keep it around sex I guess? Before or after?”

“That works for me.” He kisses you softly, brushing your hair back, until it gets more heated, and your teeth are clicking, tongues wrapping, dripping saliva between you both. You’re moaning softly, and he’s gripping you so tight, your hand slides down his stomach, but he stops it.

“Cho, lemme suck you. I kind of know how!”

“Well that’s one thing I didn’t do.”

“What!? How did she not?”

“I asked you the same.” You roll your eyes.

“Did we have shitty lovers?”

He laughs softly. “Selfish ones. You can try that tomorrow, just let me have a night where it’s about you.”

His words and how he says them touch you so deeply you can’t help but have tears fall, and he frowns in concern as he brushes them away.

“Am I too much, I know I can be-”

“You’re perfect, it was just sweet is all. I’m tired and buzzed, and just came so much I think I’m fucked up.” He’s kissing your forehead now, nodding as he helps you sit up now. “I should probably sleep, I’m still emotional, I think.”

“Do you want the bed?” He asks, grabbing your shirt and sliding it over your body slowly. Him dressing you feels almost as intimate as undressing. He sits next to you on the bed, tilting his head, and you try to remember it, friends, friends, friends.

Best friend ever, best mouth ever.

But, best friends.

“We could cuddle or is that weird?” He brings it up then, and you contemplate it for a moment.

“Cuddle buddies huh?”

“I’m such a good cuddler.”

“Okay, we can try but I get hot at night. And kick all the blankets. And roll in circles. And-”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“No!”

“Uh huh. We can sleep separately, maybe it’s too weird?”

“Yeah maybe. Maybe just in the same bed?”

“Sure, sounds good to me. Let me get you some water.” He comes back with a glass of ice water, and you sip greedily, sighing.

“You’re the best friend ever, Choso Kamo.” He’s grinning as he lays next to you, popping a big body pillow between you, wrapping his arms and legs, and fuck you want to be that pillow, but you worry it would make things so complicated.

“You’re the best friend, fuck I thought I’d be a wreck tonight. Thank you.” He says softly, brushing a thumb down your cheek.

“Thank you! For… well shit a lot. I’m so mad I’ve missed out on this mouth this long, I think I’ll be mad when I can’t get it.” He blushes again, as you hold the hand on your cheek now.

“I don’t think I’ll date any time soon, so don’t worry.”

“Same. And I have a favor to return in the morning.”

“I can’t say I’m not stupidly excited. I hurt.”

“Cho, I can do it now!”

“You go to sleep. I told you, I want it about you.” He yawns then, covering his mouth and then shutting his eyes, and you admire his perfect features for a moment, brushing his hair back and he practically purrs, making you smile.

It takes a long time to sleep, tossing and turning a bit, as the thoughts of Ino have faded to goddamn near nothing, and you’re sleeping next to your best friend, thinking how sweet it would be in his arms. This was your idea, and was it insane, could you all truly do this? You think it’s worth finding out.

You sleep finally when Choso has thrown his body pillow and snuggled against you, kissing your cheek. You giggle as you snuggle into his warm embrace, feeling so comfortable suddenly. “You look like you need cuddles.”

“I guess I do. Good night, best friend. Little Cho Bear.” You tease softly, and he smiles against your neck, snuggling under the blankets he’s thrown over you both.

“Good night, Angel.”

Angel, why does the name make your pulse race?

You can’t wonder too long, as sleep drifts you off in his arms.

Surely it won’t be too complicated, right?

Tag List: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @teacupwaifu @lana18918 @bigbird789 @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @jazzthatonewriterchick @yung-notorious @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21

(Taglist open- excited to hear what ya'll think, this was a long one!)

Chapter Two is here!

#choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #choso fic #jjk fic

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innocent-artery · 2 years ago

Text

Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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vivelegalite · 9 months ago

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dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

#please interact w me please please please i need dbd moots <3 #dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #paynland #payneland #painland #paineland #chedwin #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives agency #dead boy detectives analysis #aough jayden your mind #my art #<- my umbrella trashcan tag

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

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looking through your eyes + twenty eight

authors note: the infamous "discussion" has arrived.....

cw/tw: angst, graphic scenes depicting pregnancy complications

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

***gif courtesy of the lovely @dejameflorecer ***

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 10k

There are a couple different ways Solana played out the moment she would tell Roman about her pregnancy. Several cute ideas she entertained to break the news him. A cake that was half pink, half blue. Taking drugstore pregnancy tests and presenting them to him. She even considered coming up with a drawing of some sort. Regardless, with all of her ideas, there was a major theme of happiness.

And special.

She wanted it to be special.

However, there’s absolutely nothing special about how this has played out. Nothing happy about it.

She feels awful.

Because not only has he found out about her pregnancy in the most inconvenient way, he's found the letter too.

It couldn't have gone any worse than this.

Sniffling, Solana struggles with just how to respond to his question. “Roman, I—”

He lifts the papers, asking in a steel voice, “where did you get this?”

Silence.

For some reason, speaking is a difficult, tricky task that has her trembling and stammering. “I—” Pause. “I—” Another pause. “She—” Another pause followed by her shutting down altogether, eyes closing.

“Solana.” Hate. She hates the way he’s saying her name right now, the almost distaste present in his voice and painted on his face. “I asked you a question.”

And, he deserves an answer. He deserves a lot of answers right now. Taking a deep breath, she manages to pull it together just enough to finally answer him. “Fetu…..she…..she gave it to me.”

“When?”

Eyes closing once more, Solana responds in that same, small voice, “when you took me to meet her…..”

It’s an answer, the truth, but it’s not anything that seems to chunk away at his anger. “You’ve had this that long?” Closing the door behind her, she finds herself moving towards him. “You kept this from me—”

She sniffles, stopping in the middle of the room. “Roman, please—I—I can explain.”

“Explain? What the fuck is there to explain, Solana?” He snaps, and she finds herself jumping as he throws the papers onto the floor. “You had no right to keep this from me!”

“I was worried about you, okay!” She cries, trying to find her own voice and way to explain her thought process. “You were in such a bad place, Roman. I didn’t know if—if it would make things worse!”

His eyes widen ever so slightly. “How the fuck could a letter from my aunt who I just lost and didn’t get to say goodbye to make things worse?”

“Because I didn’t know what was in it!” She matches his tone and volume, unwilling to just let him explode on her without her even having a chance to explain. “Because Fetu gave it to me. Not you. She gave it to me and asked me to give it to you when I felt the time was right.”

“Yeah, because your judgment is so fucking good.”

Another pause. Hurt. She’s hurt by his cruelty in this moment. “That’s not fair.” Because it isn’t. Because she understands his emotions, but the way he’s expressing himself, the hurtful things that he’s saying are uncalled for. “That’s not fair at all, Roman. And you know it.” She shakes her head and gestures to herself. “I did what I did out of love and concern.”

“And this?” Solana stills as he reaches for the sonogram, holding it up between them. “Was keeping this from me out of love and concern?” Her eyes shut once more, emotion building, tears brewing. “I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only.” It’s just a second of a delay, but it feels like an eternity. “Are you pregnant?”

Excited. Nervous. Relieved. Happy.

These are just a several of the emotions Solana expected to feel in the moment and space where she shared this life changing news with her husband. There was even a part of her that anticipated him having not much of a reaction, because she knows feelings are hard for Roman. Knows that him learning to love and be okay with loving her took some time. Thus, him needing time to process this news was also a potential outcome. So, yes, she didn’t have this fantasy of this being the perfect moment.

But, this……this moment is the last thing she expected.

The last thing she ever wanted.

Eyes closed, heart breaking, Solana answers, “yes.” Her chest feels tight, her stomach in all kind of knots. “I’m—I’m ten weeks.”

Silence

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t necessarily have to because the moment Solana reopens her eyes and sees him, that’s all she needs to see.

He looks gutted.

It must be a good minute or two before he asks in a low voice. “How long?” Her lack of an immediate response prompts him to ask again. “How long have you known, Solana?”

God, she feels miserable. Fingers grasping with the material of her dress, she stammers, “I–I started to suspect a couple weeks—”

“Weeks?” Again, another wide eyed, floored expression. “You’ve known about this for weeks and you didn’t say anything?”

“I—I went to Dr. Michaels and asked for a pregnancy test, because I didn’t—I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.” She adds on, almost desperately, “because I know how hard it must have been for you justifying and defending me not being pregnant yet.” Sniffling, her mind goes back to that night that was the perfect, heartbreaking combination of joy and devastation. “But, the same night I got the results back was the same night I got the call about Fetu, and it just—it was all just so much.” Because it was and still is. Solana’s voice cracks as she shares, “it felt wrong to tell you we've created life when you just lost it, Roman.”

The shattered expression on her husband’s face, however, is unchanging as he asks, “you told my doctor before you told me?” For all her efforts to be completely honest and forthcoming with him in this moment, it seems like every response she gives only digs the hole deeper. “Who else have you told?”

“Nobody!” She answers, desperate for him to know that despite how bad this situation is, this isn’t something that she’s been spreading and sharing freely. “I told your doctor, and he gave me the referral to the OB. And……and I had to tell Dr. Stratus—”

Roman stands up from the bed, his back toward her as he paces in a focused area of the room. “All these fucking people…..”

Solana hugs herself tighter, a slight attempt to self-soothe as she can feel her anxiety increasing by the second. “It’s only been the medical professionals, Roman. I haven’t said anything to Bayley, to Naomi. I just—I wanted to tell you first!”

“But, you didn’t, Solana.” He snaps, piercing gaze on her. “You kept me in the dark!” It’s taking everything in her to not break down in front of him, to not let the weight of the situation overwhelm her, because again, his emotions are valid. But his communication, so harsh, is crushing. “You kept the letter from me, you kept your pregnancy from me, what the fuck else have you been keeping from me!”

“Nothing!” She shouts back, her feelings shifting yet again from hurt to angry. Frustrated. Solana feels so damn frustrated. They can talk, they can argue, but she cannot handle this accusatory tone he’s taken. “You get to be angry with me. You have a right to be angry with me. But, you don’t have the right to yell at me and act like I did what I did out of spite. I was worried sick about you and didn’t know what else to do, okay?”

And that, along with everything else she’s said thus far is the God’s honest truth. She didn’t know what the hell to do, so she did her best and what felt the best option in the moment.

Clearly…..very clearly, she was wrong.

“Ro…..” Solana continues, pleading almost, “you were in such a bad place, I felt like I had no other options.”

His eyes tell all the story. “And what do you think this puts me in, huh?” He looks just as frustrated as he speaks more to himself than her. “I started…..started to suspect that you were, but I pushed it away, because I knew—I thought you would tell me.” Another look of disdain and disgust. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

There’s something about his words, about all of the words and statements and accusations that causes Solana to lose the already grip she had on her emotions. It’s not really until this second that she allows herself to freely express how she feels versus focusing on helping him understand.

“Do you think I liked keeping this from you?” A whispered, rhetorical thing weighed down by weeks of pent up emotions and hidden struggles. “Do you think I liked hiding the fact that while you’re working out or handling business or sleeping, I’m hunched over a toilet puking my brains out because I’ve had terrible morning sickness? Or the fact that I had less than an hour to be happy about my pregnancy because right after I found out Fetu was dying? That I liked being alone at our babies’ first appointment?” At this point, she’s no longer focused on him, on his reaction, because this is her space to now to speak freely and openly about all the things she’s been experiencing the past few weeks. “I’ve hated every second of this, Roman! The lying, the secrets, all of it! It’s not me, and you know it, but I did it because I was looking out for you! Because I was trying to do what’s best for you, because I fucking love you! Sometimes more than I love myself!” She throws her hands up, tears flowing freely. “And you want to talk about keeping things from people?” Anger is imbued in her voice as she demands. “Roman, how many things have you kept from me? Huh? How many times have you lied to me?”

His voice is slightly calmer and quieter than it’s been the entire conversation. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“No, it’s not!” Scoffing, Solana is no longer interested in trying to explain her reasons when it’s obvious he’s not interested in listening to her. “You keep things from me all the time because you think you’re protecting me, like—like I can’t handle it!”

“Because you can’t, Solana!”

“That’s not for you to decide!” It never was. “Don’t you realize that the more you hide from me, the more I worry? Like your blood pressure. Roman, I asked you about that, and you lied to my face. You lied to me.”

A slight pause. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Why does that matter?” Her eyes widen at the fact that that is the question he decided to ask versus focusing on the issue at hand. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

He runs his hand through his hair that’s down and hanging as he shouts, “I didn’t want you to worry!” His voice is slightly lowered as he adds, “I had it handled.”

“No, you didn’t, and that was the problem!” Her volume increases as she covers her face with her hands, feeling so overwhelmed by all of this. “You try to handle everything on your own, and you can’t and that’s okay, because you’re just a human being, Roman. But, what’s not okay is to keep lying to me. Yes, I kept these things from you, but I’ve been honest about everything else. You have a pattern of lying and not telling me things not just because you don’t want to worry me, you do it because you don’t trust me!”

“That’s not—”

“Why don’t I know where my own medicine is, huh?” Because the minute they returned home from Fetu’s place, the medicine, her medicine, that she’d been administering to herself the whole week they were gone was now nowhere to be found. Only for it, her exact morning dosages, to be ready and waiting on her nightstand the next day. “Why have I never been able to drive myself to my own therapy appointments? Why did my husband’s doctor have to tell me the truth about your blood pressure before you did?”

He closes his eyes, fingers pressed to his temple, “Solana, stop.”

“Just admit it!” She can’t be quiet, even if she wanted to, because it’s all just too much. It’s all come to this very moment where everything is laid out on the table. Where all of the feelings, both pregnancy and life fueled, cause her cup to spill over. “You don’t trust me, Roman, and you can say it’s because of the pregnancy and Fetu’s letter, but we both know the truth. What it really is.”

And, it’s the flash in his eyes, something a mixture of something she can’t identify but understands that is her confirmation. “Just—just say it!” She’s a crying, shouting mess, a perfect correspondence to the weight of the tension that fills the room right now. “Say—”

“Fine! You want me to say it, I’ll fucking say it!” He finally breaks, voicing the words he’s clearly been suppressing for months. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you tried to kill yourself! When you tried to leave me!”

Silence.

It’s that piece. That one piece that’s needed to complete the puzzle, to finalize the picture, to fill in the blank. But, it’s a completion that crushes her. The fact that he’s finally acknowledged it, the pain in his voice, the hurt on his face.

Nodding to herself, Solana is finding it even harder to put words together that accurately describe what she’s feeling in this moment. “It always—” Her voice cracks, crumbling under the tonnage of devastation. “It always goes back to that, doesn’t it?” He says nothing nor is he looking at her, his gaze instead focused on the ground. “It doesn't….it doesn’t matter what I do, the work I’ve put in, how many times I’ve apol—” She slaps her hand over her mouth, holding back a sob. A deep, heavy breath followed by a heartbreaking question. “Roman…..what kind of marriage can we have if you don’t trust me?”

To be fair, she’s not sure what kind of response she was wanting from him. What would have been comforting or even helpful for her to hear. But, that’s irrelevant and immaterial.

It’s irrelevant and immaterial because he doesn’t say anything.

And that….that has to be the most heartbreaking thing to come out of all of this.

Wordlessly, Solana turns away to walk out the room, silently hoping—praying—he calls after her, that he moves quick enough to gently grab and turn her around. That he so tenderly cups her face and kisses her forehead, telling her that they can figure this out, that they can work through this.

But, none of that happens.

He says and does nothing.

Just lets her walk out.

————

Years.

It’s been years since Roman has felt this overwhelmed. Since he’s felt so out of control.

Since he’s felt lost.

And it’s the first time in a long time he’s not been able to go to his aunt for advice.

Fingers gripping the steering wheel, he easily switches from one lane to another, speeding past the fucking Honda in front of him that doesn’t seem to understand what a fast lane is.

It’s a silly, minimal thing to be irritated over, but he’s him, and he’d gladly welcome anything other than what he’s feeling right now.

To push away the sight of Solana’s devastated expression when he finally admitted his not trusting her.

A surprise to himself, in some ways.

He’s always thought his refusing to allow her access to medication, not letting her drive herself to therapy and other acts were done out of love. Came from a place of protection and rightful due diligence. And all of that can be true along with the fact that, again, in some ways, he doesn’t trust her.

Doesn’t trust that she won’t try to hurt herself again.

That she won’t try to leave him again.

Arriving at his destination, a lookoff about twenty minutes from the house, a secluded place that allows for a safe sorting of all his thoughts and feelings. Roman puts the car in park and hits the lights before shutting off the engine.

Eyes closed, head back against the headrest, only one word comes to his mind: fuck.

The past two weeks have been some of the hardest of his life, and the fact that losing the person he’d normally confide in about how fucked up he feels just makes things infinitely harder.

He hates every single part of this.

Hates how hard he came at Solana, how she kept these things from him, how he has been keeping things from her.

It’s all just so messy and complicated. Some of it of his doing, some of it of hers.

But, what he’s realizing he hates even more is not knowing everything that she’s been dealing with while pregnant.

She was pregnant when he hit her.

She was pregnant when he left her to go to Italy, even after she begged him to stay and work things out.

She was pregnant when he destroyed Fetu’s house in his state of grief and rage, a mess she had to clean up.

She’s been pregnant and apparently sick from said pregnancy while comforting and taking care of him.

It’s all been on her, and she hasn’t said a word because she’s been trying to protect him.

Yet despite all that, he’s still hurt. Hurt that he wasn’t the first person she told about them expecting. And logically, it makes no sense. He knows his wife. Knows why she made the decision she made, even with the letter.

Fetu giving it to her, leaving it up to her to decide when to give it to him, makes all the sense in the world.

Especially given the content in said letter.

But, it still fucking hurts.

Hurts that she’s been going through all of this alone. Because he’s only ever wanted to help and support her, and in a time where she’s probably needed it more than ever, he’s been MIA.

Too lost in his own feelings and grief to pay attention to what was happening before his very eyes.

And then brings on the guilt. The guilt of not supporting her the way she’s been supporting him, of not trusting her the way that she trusts him.

That’s something else he can’t not think about and focus on.

Trust.

Up until this point, he thought he’d “moved past” her suicide attempt. Thought whatever feelings that still lingered there were inconsequential. Though that is clearly not the case.

He still very much has not fully processed it, and it’s been prevalent in all the ways Solana pointed out.

He does hide her medication from her, hides all the pills in the house, and he doesn’t allow her to take herself to her own therapy and psychiatrist appointments. And to some extent, administering her pills came less from a place of what he was told by Stratus and more from a place of his comfort.

The same way counting her pills does.

And all of that very much does come from a place of trust. A lack of trust.

A lack of trusting her to not try to take her life again.

To not leave him.

Because that’s what it boils down to. His fear not just of losing her, but of her leaving him.

The same way his family did.

But, in a cruel twist of fate and potentially irony, as he sits in the car instead of being at the house with his wife trying to actually talk through these things, Roman realizes he does the same thing.

He leaves.

He left he when he was trying to figure out whether to tell her about Xavier being behind her rape and her mother’s murder.

He left when he accidentally hit her and couldn’t stand to be around her, to be reminded of the pain he’d inflicted on her even when she tried her damn hardest to help him not feel so guilty.

He tried to leave, in a sense, when he kept pushing her away in her attempts to help him process Fetu’s death.

And he’s left just now when the very thing he should have done is stayed.

Sure, in one of those examples, he left to receive clarity. To pick his aunt’s brain over what he should do, but in the rest, he left because he was avoiding things.

The same way he’s avoiding things now.

And it doesn’t work.

It never has, and it never will.

Beyond that, it’s messing with his marriage, forming cracks that will continue to grow until it all comes down, shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.

Roman can’t have that.

He won’t.

Because as fucked up and confused as he feels right now, it won’t get better by sitting in this fucking car.

This can only be fixed by talking with and to the one person he keeps walking away from.

His wife.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to start the car back up and get right back on the route that took him to where he ran away to in the first place. The drive back to the house consists of him mentally going over what he wants to say, how he wants to say and what he wants to tackle.

And at the top of all that is an apology.

She deserves that and so much more.

But, the minute he steps into the house, the plan is shelved. Tossed to the back of the line, because he’s barely in the doorway when Dulce is moving her little self down the steps, whimpering along the way.

Roman frowns. “What’s wrong?”

She reaches the floor and runs up to him, hitting his legs, barking at him followed by more whimpering. And when she turns around to return up the steps, looking back at him as if to make sure she’s following him, he knows.

Knows that something is wrong.

“Solana.”

And just like that, Roman is following this little dog who is clearly hellbent on guiding him somewhere.

Or to someone.

On the second floor, Dulce is panting as she runs down the hall to the master bedroom, Roman right behind her as she rushes into the room and makes a right for the master bathroom where she stops.

Roman is standing in the doorway of the bathroom when he freezes, partially incapable of processing the scene before him.

“No….”

Solana is on her knees on the bathroom floor, hunched over, dressed in only her bra and underwear. She’s trembling, one hand on her stomach, the other hand planted on the natural stone flooring. Flooring that has bright red liquid glistening off of it, liquid that’s dripping down her inner thighs, a large splotch of red covering the crotch of her underwear.

She’s bleeding.

Dulce sits besides her, whimpering and attempting to lick her arm.

It’s only when the shock of the visuals wear off that he becomes tuned to the fact that she’s crying and hyperventilating, stammering, “I can’t—I can’t lose them.”

Them

The babies.

Roman takes a few steps back into the room to shout out the open door, “get the car ready!” He grabs a random jacket out of his closet and moves back over to the bathroom.

Placing the jacket to the side, he’s on the floor, by her side, “Solana—”

Gasping, she shakes her head, looking at him with puffy, teary eyes. She's a mess. “I’m—I’m s–sorry. I—”

“Shhhh,” he comforts her, pushing back some of her hair. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

She’s crying even harder as he moves to stand her up, but she’s shaking her head, clearly not thinking straight, as she seemingly protests. “I—I can’t—please—” She cries out in pain again, almost falling over, but he’s quick and has her in his arms. Solana’s head is against his shoulder as she grasps at his arm. Roman is uncaring of the blood on her palm that’s now on him.

It’s not important.

What’s important is getting her help.

And fast.

“Solana, listen to me, I’ve gotta get you to the hospital, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she cries into him, Roman suddenly having the hardest fucking time holding it together in a moment where he absolutely has to be the sound one here. “I’m sorry.”

Roman kisses her temple. “You’re gonna be fine.” One arm supporting her, the other reaches for the jacket to place it around her. Once she’s covered up well enough, he’s gentle and careful in the way he helps her stand only to quickly pick her up bridal style.

“Stay,” he directs the command to Dulce who lays on the bathroom floor with her ears down, still whimpering.

He’s carrying her out the room and down the steps to the SUV that’s already waiting for them. Bautista opens the back door, concern in his brown eyes as Roman instructs, “get in touch with the Bloodline OB. Have her meet us at the hospital.”’

There’s questions Roman didn’t get the chance to ask, questions such as the name of the doctor that Solana saw, but given that he does know she went to and received the referral from Michaels, there’s no doubt in his mind he sent her to the Bloodline’s OB.

He just hopes the woman can get there in time.

Roman doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything except his wife who clings to him, silently crying into his chest, continuing to murmur apologies and sayings in Spanish.

A prayer, it sounds like.

And for the first time in a long time, he closes his eyes and mentally does the same.

————

Solana is taken back immediately, largely because Roman demands as such, and one only needs an order barked at them once from the Tribal Chief to know he means business.

“Mrs. Reigns, can you tell us what’s going on?” Someone asks as he carefully lays Solana down on the medical bed, and the question instantly has him scowling.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious?” He snaps, cognizant of how Solana instantly reaches for his hand, holding it tightly.

“I’m—I’m cramping bad and—and bleeding,” she answers through her tears, Roman unaware why hearing her state as such hits him so hard. It’s not like he can’t see what’s going on, but there’s just something significantly worse about her actually saying it.

It makes it that much more real.

“When did this start?” Another nurse or maybe doctor, shit should he know, asks as they start rolling her back.

“Half–half an hour ago. I was going to take a shower when I first felt the cramps and then I saw that—that I was a bleeding—” She starts hyperventilating again, asking through infrequent breaths, “am I—am I having a miscarriage?”

Of all the things said and heard tonight, that…..that has to be the hardest of them all.

Roman doesn’t…..he can’t allow himself to imagine that could be what’s occurring, even if….if that’s what the signs point to.

An older nurse is the one to speak up, “let’s not go there just yet, okay, honey? Bleeding and cramping during a pregnancy doesn’t always mean a worst case scenario.”

The words are objectively reassuring but do little to abate the anxiety he’s masterfully hiding for a variety of reasons with the main one being he needs to maintain his composure for his wife’s sake.

Finally in the room, Roman watches closely as they work to change her into a hospital gown, hook her to an IV, and take her blood pressure, one of the nurses calling out, “140 over 90” followed by the older one advising, “Mrs. Reigns, your blood pressure is considered high for a pregnant woman. I know you’re scared and upset, but I need you to take some deep breaths for me, alright?”

And then someone has the fucking audacity to say to Roman, “would you like to wait for her in—”

Roman is briefly considering murder, on the verge of a vicious, verbal assault when Solana is the one to protest. Shaking her head, she squeezes his hand even tighter. “No! I need him!” Terrified gaze falling on him, she begs, “please—please don’t leave me.”

Moving his free hand to her forehead, he vows, “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He’s partially relieved to see her relieved by this. Roman lifts his now hardened gaze to the staff, “where the fuck is her doctor?”

Because he’s almost certain, if the doctor who Solana saw earlier that day was present, his wife would have had a reaction of some sort. Or, at least the doctor would have addressed her differently.

And none of that has happened, so Roman is livid.

A brave—or stupid—nurse speaks up, “Dr. Sharmell is coming. She was in the middle of a del—”

“Do you think I give a fuck about that?” His voice is filled with disgust that matches the disdain written all over his face. “I want her here now.”

Another nervous clearing of a voice. “Sir, there is another OB on staff, Dr. Miz, but your wife’s chart says no men on her care team, unless—”

“No,” Roman shoots that down instantly.

To be fair, if this was any other type of medical emergency, Roman might agree, might work to help Solana understand this is a necessity. And it’s not that they’re not currently in the midst of a medical emergency, because they clearly are. But, he knows his wife. She’s already freaking out, her blood pressure raised which is exacerbating the situation, and having a man evaluate her in that manner is only bound to make things significantly worse.

“Solana.”

A new voice enters the conversation, a middle aged black woman walking in, the group almost naturally clearing a path as she walks over to the bed. “It’s Dr. Sharmell.”

And the reaction Roman was anticipating finally occurs, Solana turning to her and crying again. “Something’s wrong with the babies.”

It’s this, this heartbreaking statement that confirms what Roman thought he saw in her sonogram photo but wasn’t entirely sure. What he heard Solana say just earlier.

Two.

There’s two babies.

She’s pregnant with twins.

This….this just got infinitely worse.

“That’s what I’m here to see about,” this doctor says in a calming voice, glancing at the machines that his wife is plugged up to. “Her BP is too high. Give her 5mg of diazepam and 400mg of acetaminophen for the pain.”

“Sweetie, I need you to listen to me.” Dr. Sharmell’s voice is somehow the perfect combination of pressing and comforting. “I need to examine you, and I know you’re uncomfortable with a transvaginal ultrasound, but for me to get the best look, I need—”

“It’s okay,” Solana interrupts, shaking her head and squeezing his hand again. “Just—just do it.”

Dr. Sharmell doesn’t seem to question it, just nods and goes to pull a machine over as she moves to get started.

Roman doesn’t leave his wife’s side, thumb gently caressing her knuckles as he watches her close her eyes and lean her head back. Her discomfort is palpable and blaring, and it kills him to not be able to take away her pain.

It kills him to see her like this.

“What are you doing to her?” Because she’s already in pain, and if this woman is about to do anything to make that shit worse, he’s about to cause a ruckus.

The doctor continues to prepare for whatever she’s about to do while explaining said procedure. “It’s an ultrasound done through the vaginal canal.”

It’s that explanation along with seeing the probe Dr. Sharmell is holding that helps Roman understand why Solana was uncomfortable with this.

He moves his hand back to her forehead, murmuring, “it’s okay.”

It’s not, but he doesn’t know what else to do. How else to make the ‘best’ of this nightmare of a situation. He’s observant of the moment Solana is “penetrated,” seeing the small wince on her face and the way she tenses.

Fuck. He hates this.

Hates it with everything in him.

“There it is….” Dr. Sharmell speaks to herself, looking over at the screen.

Roman immediately asks, “what’s wrong?”

The word ‘wrong’ is clearly not the best choice because Solana is sniffling again, asking that devastating question, “am—am I having a mis–miscarriage?”

The answer comes relatively quickly but feels like it’s taken an eternity to arrive. “No, Solana, you’re not having a miscarriage.”

Roman’s eyes shut as he takes in the powerful and borderline overwhelming relief he feels at hearing those words. At hearing that this isn’t that. In a situation that’s arguably one of the worst he’s been in, that response is one of the best he’s ever received.

“What you are having is what we call a Subchorionic Hemorrhage. It means there’s blood forming between your babies’ amniotic sac and the uterine wall, which is why you’re bleeding. Cramping isn’t as common of a symptom, but it can happen. This obviously isn’t anything any pregnant woman would want to experience, but it happens more than people realize. And listen—” She gestures to the monitor, both Roman and Solana focusing on the screen and the sound.

A rhythmic beating.

Roman is the first to speak. “Is that….”

Dr. Sharmell nods. “That’s the sound of your babies’ heartbeats. Strong as ever.”

And it’s that last sentence that seems to provide Solana an abundance of relief, as she takes a deep, shaky breath covering her mouth to conceal a sob that comes from a place of joy versus despair.

Roman has so much to take in in this moment.

She’s not miscarrying.

She’s pregnant with twins.

Twins whose heartbeats he’s currently listening to.

It’s all so….strange and unbelievable and stirring up a new cocktail of emotions he manages to push back. For now….at least.

Because pushing shit back, avoiding shit….it’s partially why they’re here right now.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “so how do we fix it?”

Shaking her head, she removes the probe, a nurse taking it from her while she takes off her gloves. “Unfortunately, there is no cure, but these things usually go away on their own. Typically in a matter of weeks. What we do recommend is bedrest, pelvic rest specifically, so no sex, no heavy lifting. Lots of fluids, and I’ve already scheduled your wife for appointments every two weeks given it’s a multiples pregnancies, so I’ll already be monitoring her closely.”

It makes sense, but it’s also not the type of answer he was hoping for. Nevertheless, it’s a much better outcome than the grim alternative.

She moves to the side of the bed, speaking directly to Solana, “now you might start bleeding again, though judging by the size of the hematoma, I wouldn’t anticipate as much as you’ve experienced this time. Just treat it like you would a menstrual cycle, pads only, no tampons, and make sure to call me and let me know if it’s happening again, alright?” Solana nods, a sudden quietness about her that Roman would guess is one of the medications she was given kicking in. “I’m gonna keep you here overnight for observation, but I have no doubt you’ll be ready to be discharged come morning."

“Thank you,” Solana whispers, voice laden with appreciation and comfort. “Thank you so much.”

Roman looks at his wife, informing, “I’ll be right back, okay?” He waits for her to nod, to show confirmation before he looks over at the doctor and gestures to the door.

Dr. Sharmell gives a small nod and makes a few comments to the remaining nurses before heading in that direction.

It’s once they’re outside the room, Roman crosses his arms, asking in a low, pained voice, “can stress cause this?”

It’s a question he’s been sitting on since finding his wife, crying and bleeding on the bathroom floor. His knowledge base is large and broad, but medical shit is where it’s relatively limited. Not limited enough to not know stress can cause pregnancy complications.

And Solana has had no shortage of that the past few weeks, this evening specifically.

Because of him.

But, he’s taken a bit by surprise when she answers with a simple, “no.” She mimics his stance, also crossing her arms while explaining, “but we’re also still not sure specifically what causes them. There are some guesses that a history of miscarriages, high blood pressure, and early onset of preeclampsia are precursors but nothing we can prove.” Dr. Sharmell lowers her voice, clearly wanting this conversation to remain between the two of them. “I did notice in her medical records an extensive amount of hospital visits for accidents indicating severe physical abuse when your wife was younger, and she also disclosed childhood sexual assault.”

Roman straightens his posture, voice even. “Yes.” Nothing more. Nothing less.

The older woman sighs. “There’s a possibility that your wife has some form of uterine trauma from her prolonged abuse and/or the sexual assault that could have contributed, but it’s nothing I can confirm medically.”

There’s slight relief at knowing that…..that he didn’t play a role in what happened is helpful, sure, but hearing that all of the other horrific things done to his wife may be the cause is the opposite of helpful.

It just pisses him the fuck off.

Fist forming at his side, Roman has to remind himself where he is. Hearing about Solana’s abuse never fails to put him in a position where his minimal resolve is always tested. Unbridled rage with nowhere to go except inward.

“She’s going to be okay though, right?” Focusing on the most important topic at hand, he asks in an even quieter voice, “the babies….they’re going to be alright?”

Her smile is amenable. “They’re gonna be fine.”

Roman won’t outwardly express and show how comforting her words are, because a part of him was wondering if she was just saying what she knew Solana needed to hear to calm her down. But, away from his wife’s sight and auditory range, hearing the same positive prediction is beyond reassuring.

Nodding to himself, Roman finds himself uttering, “thank you.”

Words few are privy to hearing from the Mafia head but deserved giving what she’s done and what she’ll continue to do for his wife.

And his children.

She maintains her smile. “Of course.” Stepping back, she informs, “I’ll check back on her in a little bit.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just watches her move down the hall. Blowing out a deep breath, he runs his hands through his hair and closes his eyes.

Heavy footsteps precede a deep voice asking, “is everything alright, sir?” Roman is leaning against the wall, next to the door where he overhears the nurses asking Solana questions about her comfort. Bautista stands before him, still looking slightly concerned. “With….Mrs. Reigns and…..?”

There seems to be some sense of duty and loyalty to Solana in the man, traits that Roman didn’t quite recognize until just now. It’s appreciated and why he answers honestly.

“She’s going to be fine,” Roman mutters. “They all are.” Bautista’s expression shifts to something akin to shock. “It’s…..it’s twins.”

Breaking the news of not only a pregnancy but a pregnancy involving twins to his wife’s bodyguard is just another twist in this story that he could have never anticipated. And yet, here he is.

But, it’s also something that would be stupid for Roman to try to hide. He knows the guard isn’t stupid. Calling for an OB-GYN in the middle of the night, rushing her to the ER, it all points to the obvious.

“I need you to go to the house,” Roman changes subjects, not willing to disclose anything more. “Check on Dulce.”

Because as traumatic this has been for him and Solana, their puppy finding her "mom" in a dire state yet again has to be difficult for her too.

“Of course,” Bautista nods, moving to walk away when he stops, turning to Roman to simply say, “Congratulations, Sir.”

Roman offers no visible response.

Ignoring the small trace of pride at such an acknowledgment.

————

By the time Roman re-entered the room and the rest of the staff dispersed, Solana was already falling asleep, something he did nothing to interfere with. A necessity. It’s been a long ass day.

For them both.

But especially her.

For obvious reasons.

Pulling the chair to the side of the bed, Roman doesn’t use the time to get in some much needed sleep of his own. He’s far too wired for that. Besides, he needs to be up and awake in case she awakes and needs something.

He spends time making adjustments, sending off texts and emails to the appropriate parties. Though the main ones are sent to Paul, Roman informing his Wise Man that he’ll be working from home the next couple days. Maybe a pop in at Bloodline HQ here and there, but nothing consistent like usual.

Roman needs to be home with his wife.

His pregnant wife.

There’s still something so strange about that, something that feels a bit unreal to be true. But, it is. He saw the sonogram, heard the confirmation, heard their heartbeats.

This is real and happening.

Roman’s hand reaches and settles on Solana’s stomach as she continues to sleep, a peaceful expression on her pretty face. Emotions start to stir once more as he takes in the fact that she’s with not just one child but two. Two children that they created.

His children.

He’s never really given fatherhood much thought, maybe some deeper level of consideration from time to time but never to the point where it could become an actuality.

Sure, he knew he’d eventually have a kid, but not even a year ago, he’d imagined it under very different circumstances. A marriage that simply allowed him to create an heir with a woman who would understand that there would never be any significance or sincerity behind their union. Truly, in every sense of the word, an arrangement. One where he has his on the side, she could have hers, and they’d come together when necessary for the sake of offspring.

That’s exactly what he thought it would be.

It couldn’t be farther from that.

Because Solana is every good, redeemable part of him that exists. There is no life that could exist for him without her in it.

She is his better half in every sense of the word.

She completes him in a way he didn’t know he needed to be completed.

And now….now she’s carrying his babies.

Their babies.

Because he wants them to have every bit of goodness that fills her and none of his darkness that weighs him. It’s truly his hope and prayer that they take every bit from her and very little from him.

It’s just better that way.

It’s a few hours into their admission and Solana’s sleep that she begins to stir. Roman easily sits up in the chair and pockets his phone as her eyes blink open.

She whines quietly, a small smile setting on her sleepy face as she focuses on him. “You’re still here….”

“Of course, I’m here.” There’s not a single place in this world he’d rather be than sitting here beside her. “I told you I wasn’t leaving.” And he meant it. Moving his hand from her stomach to atop hers, he asks, “how you feeling?”

“Better.” She looks and sounds it, too. He finds immense solace in that. Eyes squinting, she asks, “what time is it?”

A quick glance at the Hublot watch on his wrist. “Quarter to five.”

And just like that, her smile shifts into a bit of a frown. “You’ve been up this whole time?”

Knowing where she’s going, he moves to assure her. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” There’s a teasing note to her single word response, the smallest smirk on her full lips.

Chuckling, he quiets down, his own mouth shifting into a frown. “Solana….”

“We were both wrong,” she interrupts. Roman doesn’t try to hide his surprise at her jumping right into what he planned to ease into, borderline tap dance around to take accountability but not bombard her with a conversation that’s better served when they’re home and not in a hospital. “I shouldn’t have kept the letter or my pregnancy from you, and you’ve been wrong for keeping things from me.”

“Yes.” Because there’s no disagreement to that simplified assessment of the issue from earlier. “But, Sol, we don’t need to discuss this right now….”

“Yes, we do.” Once again, she has him taken back by her borderline assertiveness in this moment. “We….we push things off because we think we’re protecting each other, but….but we’re not. We….we only make things worse.”

She won’t find any disagreement from him. “You’re right.” He closes his eyes, admitting, “you were right. About everything.”

Roman still believes this isn’t the time or place to be having this conversation, but he also recognizes ideal circumstances have escaped them almost entirely the past few weeks. If not longer.

It’s time to stop pushing things off.

“Solana, I met with Gail virtually while I was in Italy, because hitting you really fucked with my head, and I thought….I’d convinced myself that you being with me was dangerous. That you’d…..you’d be better off if we weren’t together.”

And if he hadn’t realized before that was probably one of the worse ideas he’s ever had in his fucking life, Solana’s devastated expression is all the confirmation and more that he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Her voice is heavy as she starts to ask, “how you ever think—”

“I wasn’t in a good place.” He knew it then but can only openly acknowledge it now. And in some ways, he still isn’t. “I asked her to work with you on not being so attached to me, so that a divorce wouldn't be as hard on you, and she asked me something in return that I didn’t know how to answer.” Roman can still vividly recall and hear the sound of her voice, understanding but challenging. “She asked me how I planned to not be as attached to you, and it made me realize that I really do need you, Solana.”

“I told you before the only thing I fear in this life is losing you, but I think….I think it goes deeper than that.” He looks away, partially uncomfortable with this conversation, with having to acknowledge things he’s pushed away for so long. “I think….I think that there’s a lot of things I’ve avoided over the years, but I can’t….I can’t avoid them anymore.”

Not when he doesn’t have Fetu to go to anymore. And, he can’t put this on his wife.

“I—I started therapy, and I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it either. But, I know….I’ve realized that I need to do it for you, for us, but mainly for myself.” Because as much or maybe even as well as suppressing and repressing shit has “worked” for him over the years, it’s not sustainable, and he can see the strain it’s causing in his marriage.

Roman can’t have that shit.

He’ll do anything to make this work.

To not lose his wife.

A glance at Solana reveals her small smile. “It’s not easy.” Roman won’t disagree. He hasn’t even started talking about actual shit, but even bringing himself to attend that first appointment was difficult. Her hand tightens around his. “I’m proud of you, Ro.” Roman can’t remember the last time commendation affected him as deeply as her kind words do. Solana smiles wryly, “I’m gonna have to make you a therapy journal.”

He can’t help the scowl on his face. “I’m not doing that.”

Her light giggle lifts his spirits and warms his soul before she softly murmurs, “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“I hurt you by not telling you. About the letter and the pregnancy. I see that, and I’m sorry. Regardless of my intentions, it was….it was wrong to keep you in the dark.” Her apology is appreciated and while a part of him wants to tell her she doesn’t need to do so, a larger part of him appreciates hearing as such. Appreciates having his feelings validated.

It’s….different.

“I don’t wanna tell anybody about the pregnancy. Not….not yet.” Roman wants to ask why, not in disagreement per se, but curious about her thought process. If it’s based off what happened this evening. “I just want to keep it between us. At least until I start showing.” She lifts her hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “I wanna just focus on me, you and the babies, okay?”

He nods against her, more than okay with this arrangement, because it’s similar to what he was going to tell her. Her pregnancy is on a need to know basis moving forward, her security is getting increased, and her training is on pause until further notice.

He’s not taking any chances whatsoever moving forward.

“There’s….there’s more I need to tell you.” His gaze is focused on her as she breaks eye contact, focusing on her stomach instead. “I—I found an old letter my mom wrote me, and….there’s a lot to unpack there but….that needs to wait until we get home, because I want to let you read it yourself.”

“Solana, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupts, softly. “Plus it’s…..it’s a lot to explain, and I think it’d be better if you just saw it for yourself.”

He nods. Roman was already planning to share the contents of Fetu’s letter with his wife, so her offering to let him read her own “message from beyond” just affirms that decision. Affirms that they both are trying to do better.

“Roman…..” She’s looking back at him, eyes watering. “I need you to know that I don’t want to hurt myself anymore. I could never do that to you.” She moves her hand to her stomach. “I could never do that to them.” His eyes close as he takes in her sentimental, vulnerable disclosure. “I want to be a mom. I want to be with you. I want to live, and I know that my attempt is something that may take longer for you to process, but I just….I just need you to know that.”

And on some level, he does. He knows that Solana has shown no indication whatsoever of falling back into that dark headspace. As she pointed out earlier, she’s put in so much work and continues to do so. She’s done everything right since then.

It’s just that what if that he can’t seem to pull away from.

“I know,” he finally responds, opening his eyes and reaching to wipe away her tears. “I’m gonna work on it, alright?”

He will.

He has to.

She nods. “Thank you.”

She sounds immensely appreciative and hopeful, the same type of feelings gradually starting to fill within him. They’re gonna figure this shit out.

One way or another.

Roman drops his hand and gaze from her face, moving it to her stomach. He swallows, murmuring, “twins….”

Moving her hand on top of his, she echoes, “twins…..” Roman chuckles to himself. Their first pregnancy would be twins. “Dr. Sharmell ran a blood test that will check for any chromosomal disorders, but it will also…..it’s gonna tell us the sexes.”

His eyes lift back to her. “Already?”

Her small smile is back. “She said we should get the results in two weeks or so.” Roman doesn’t know a lot about pregnancy in general, but he was always under the impression that they wouldn’t know what they’re having until later on. A few more months, so to know he’ll know the sexes of their babies by the end of the month….it’s something.

“I’m really hoping at least one is a boy…..” Her voice shifting into something almost nervous makes him frown. Solana adds in a low voice, “I need to give you an heir…..”

Instantly, Roman is shaking his head. “You don’t need to do anything.” For the sake of openness, he opts to continue on the path of honesty with her. “Apparently the Elders have decided to put a timeline on things.” Roman has to contain his irritation at just the thought of them trying to put pressure on his wife. Trying to dictate his marriage. “Either we conceive by the end of the year, or they want us to divorce and they’ll pick a new wife for me.”

Solana’s eyes widen, anxiety ready to build. “Roman—”

“Whether you were already pregnant or not, over my dead fucking body would I ever let that happen.” His voice is pure steel, his determination indisputable. “I told you before. Nothing and no one can take you from me. I’d walk away from all this shit before I lose you.” Her face lights up in surprise, some of which is felt by even Roman at his admission. It’s not a lie though.

He’d rather step down as Tribal Chief and Capo before losing her.

Solana is everything to him.

And more.

Her voice is bristled with nervousness. “You have to tell them about the pregnancy then.”

“No,” he answers, shaking his head. “They don’t run this shit. I do. I’ll tell them when I want to.” I.e. not until the end of the year. He’ll allow them to do their plotting and planning behind the scenes, let them believe that they’ll have ‘won’ this. And only then will he tell them about the babies.

Until then, they can fuck off.

She seems unconvinced and still worried. “I just don’t want you to have to deal with unnecessary problems….”

Roman’s life is filled with as such, many of them he has to tackle and deal with on a daily basis. This is most definitely not one of them. “It’s not a problem. Trust me.”

His simple sentence of reassurance seems to chip away some of her anxiety as she asks, “can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, Sol.”

Always could.

Always will.

Roman is happy to see her smile return. “I’ve been having….dreams the past couple months.”

Utterly curious and focused, he presses, “about?”

A brief hesitation followed up with an emotional, “us as parents.” Roman tenses, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression. “We have….we have twins in the dreams. Twin girls. Li—”

“Lina and Leya,” he finishes for her in a quiet voice. Roman is very much cognizant of the floored look on Solana’s face.

She’s just as taken back by his knowing as he is about what this means. “How—how did you know that?”

A simple question with a layered answer that takes a minute for Roman to supply. Scoffing with disbelief, he responds calmly, “because I think we’ve been having the same dreams.”

Solana continues to be filled with shock as she moves around on the bed, turning on her side, shifting their still conjoined hands. “Wh—what?”

He closes his eyes, partially unsure of what to make of this. Of what it could mean, some deeper, higher power that’s just furthered and deepened the connection between himself and his wife. “I started having the dreams when we were in Mexico, and I’ve had them intermittently since then.” Swallowing, he shares, recalling from said dreams. “Leya is…..she’s like you. Quiet. Soft. A big heart.”

“And Lina is like you,” Solana adds, watery eyes reappearing from the emotionality of it all. “Protective. Outspoken. Also a big heart.” Her smile deepens as she wonders aloud, “do you think….do you think that’s what we’re having….them?”

Roman sits on her question for a good minute. “I think it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Because with all his intelligence and knowledge, Roman can’t for the life of him think of any reason why he and his wife would have shared dreams of the same future.

A future that seems to be playing out before them.

Solana chuckles, sharing, “you know those are nicknames, right? Lina and Leya?” He nods. Up until this point, Roman hasn’t had a dream that included the full first names, but based on the look on Solana’s face, he’d bet she has. “They’re short for Catalina and Cataleya.”

Catalina

Cataleya

That emotion is climbing again, the awe and wonder of the shifting of fantasy to reality stirring up all sorts of feelings.

“That’s what we’ll name them then,” he finally announces, moving his hand around her stomach. “Catalina and Cataleya.”

And the emotion he feels in said emotion is written all over his wife’s face as she asks, almost nervously, “so….so you’d be okay if….if they were both girls?” A part of him hates that she even has to ask that, that there’s any part of her that may wonder if he’d somehow be upset with the babies being girls versus at least one being a boy.

“Of course.” Because while there’s still a part of him that is nervous, unsure of what this new role of fatherhood will entail and look like for him, one thing is for certain. He’ll love, care, and protect them just the same as he loves, cares for and protects their mother.

Solana is visibly relieved and comforted by his confirming answer. “And if they are girls—”

“They are,” he supplies. He’d almost bet his life on that. Too many coincidences for them to not be.

Solana grins. “Then we’ll try for a boy as soon as we can.”

“Solana, we don’t—”

“Yes, we do,” she sighs, sharing so calmly. “I want more kids with you. As many as we can have.”

On top of the fact that the first set haven’t even been born yet, it's the as many for Roman that has him straightening up in the chair. “Baby, you know I’m almost 40, right?” She rolls her pretty eyes, forcing him to straight up ask, “how many kids you trying to have?”

Solana shrugs as best she can from laying on her side. “The girls will have each other. We’ll still need a son, and he’ll need a sibling too around his age—”

Roman’s eyes widen a bit as he points out, “Solana, that’s four kids you talking about.”

He loves this girl with everything in him, but four children?

He briefly recalls one of his dreams, a dream in which she disclosed her third pregnancy, a pregnancy that included another set of twins following the three children they already had.

Roman shakes his head, not even allowing himself to share that dream with her.

Nor will he even allow himself to consider if she had the same dream.

All them damn kids…..

He’d never know another day of peace again.

And yet…..

A small, minimal part of him wonders. Wonders what it might be like to have a big family of his own, to have several children, the perfect physical combination of himself and Solana. For their large home to be filled with laughter and happiness they were both deprived of.

A chance to give said children the childhood they never had.

Solana’s smile deepens as she bites down on her bottom lip. “I know.” The almost playful smile shifts into something serious and poignant. “Roman, you lost your family as a child. So did I.” Solana swallows, shaking her head. “We can’t get back what we lost, but we can….we can start our own. We have.” Voice dripping with determination and conviction, she vows, “and no one is going to take that from us this time.”

Up until this point, Roman hadn’t considered that. Not in that specific way. They’ve both lost so much over the years, experienced immense loss and trauma. Having and starting a family of their own could be…it could be a fresh start.

A new beginning.

“I love you.” In every sense of the word, with a depth that rivals the ocean and duty that defies logic.

Solana doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the words he’ll never get tired of hearing from her. “I love you, too.”

Roman still has so many doubts, so many insecurities, things he’s unsure of. He doesn’t know the first thing about fatherhood. Doesn’t have that nurturing, loving instinct that Solana has. Her ability to comfort and love so naturally.

He’s….he’s going to need her help with this, and he’s not afraid to acknowledge as such.

What he does know is that he’ll do whatever it takes to figure it out, to be the best husband, the best father he can be.

For himself.

For Solana.

For Fetu.

For his daughters.

Cataleya and Catalina Reigns.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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prodagustd · 7 months ago

Text

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy.

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure.

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself.

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands.

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you.

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal.

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.”

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him.

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway.

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second.

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him.

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left.

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone.

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you.

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you?

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed.

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs.

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice.

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few.

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?”

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate.

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly.

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far.

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried.

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why.

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth.

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago.

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain.

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit. “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you.

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit.

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...”

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!”

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could.

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again.

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs.

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home.

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch.

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat.

“I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you.

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight.

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends.

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy.

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.”

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego.

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer.

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.”

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said.

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.”

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back.

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.”

“At mom?”

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.”

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said.

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.”

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.”

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly.

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around”

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.”

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.”

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop.

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever.

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep.

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.”

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.”

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said.

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.”

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish.

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew.

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was.

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.”

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown.

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.”

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things.

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?”

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat.

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that.

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.”

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad.

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.”

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?”

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?”

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it.

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well”

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

“Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed.

“What, am I wrong?”

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew?

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious.

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.”

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?”

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.”

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.”

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.”

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again?

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes.

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.”

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter.

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him.

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter.

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed.

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything.

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear.

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid.

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head.

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.”

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed.

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air.

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind.

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.”

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.”

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe.

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers.

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky.

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?”

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.”

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”.

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was.

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party.

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ash-says · 10 months ago

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Being in touch with your sensuality:

On today's episode of ash-says we are going to talk about how to get in touch with your sensuality. Personally it's something I am very passionate about and kind of indulgent too.

Sensuality helps me in feeling alive and in tune with myself. I can't guarantee it for everyone but for me it works wonders. It's like the "Amrut" or "rejuvenating water" (for a lack of better terms) for me. Along with that it's the most healthy way for expressing my sexuality and keeping it in control to not let it affect my day to day functioning.

Here are some ways I incorporated in the last five years of my life to be in touch with my sensuality:

1) Exercise: No matter what I am going to vouch for this always. The way it helps me in expressing the surplus energy and controlling my desires is a chef's kiss. Plus helps in tackling the sluggish feeling.

2) Dance: Especially the slow sensual seductive dance. Not only it's a good outlet but above all that it validates the emotions and creates a space to delve in it to create a beautiful synchronisation with the body movements.

3) Art: Create! Create! Create! Nothing better than creating beautiful art or writing poems, stories,etc to voice your passion for the world and it's offerings.

4) Music: I have playlists on Spotify that specifically cater to my sensual mood. It has all the songs that can set a tone for the bedroom (iykyk). Singing to it or dancing works wonders. It's a magical experience.

5) Meditation: You can meditate on those feelings to internalize it and put all that energy in proper use for achieving a goal,etc. This is something I very rarely do because I am a very active person but putting it out here cause it works for some people.

6)Play Barbie: This is my personal favourite. After all I am just a girl. I put on some makeup, wear a bold sexy outfit or a cute dress (depending on the mood) then spend my time reading a romance novel and listening to sensual songs. It's my kind of therapy🦋🦋

7) Be a model: Being all dressed up but not clicking any photos you got to be kidding me!!! Come on girl! Pose and click! You are not going to be this young again. The best thing I do is this. It literally helps in skyrocketing my confidence. I don't click pictures daily but boy when I do, God forbid!!

8) Unlearn the shame: The basic one. You need to own your body first and appreciate it. I know saying is easy but hey you won't get there if you never start.

9) Imitate things that you find sexy: I will explain this with an example, so I find laying on the bed on my chest with my legs dangling in the air extremely sexy so when I am alone I will lie on the bed in that way as a way of expressing. Secondly, we all know sipping wine while reading a book is incredibly sexy while being dressed all slutty but I don't consume alcoholic beverages so as an alternative I drink pomegranate juice. Plus I find pomegranate as the sexiest fruit for obvious reasons.

10) Invest in things that make you feel sensual and seductive: It doesn't need to be costly. Find your sexy and invest!! For me it's aroma candles, jewellery, deep neck tops, skirts, ribbons, art honestly I have developed a knack to turn any ordinary thing into something seductive atp I feel. Everything works for me. So exploreeee!! If you are experimental enough and don't have parental risks you can try out sex toys too.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

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itsa-me-lily · 4 months ago

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I am still tired, but brain is less mush after some lunch. (Can you guess what I had)

Here is other Simon & Thimble playlist

Here is more Military Program Spouse AU

It helps to assume here that unless stated otherwise Simon is wearing a medical mask around reader. She’s just like whatever floats your boat my dude

Content warning;

Mention of food, medical devices, scars, cellulite

“Simon whatever your middle name is Riley you better not be looking at my legs.”

Maybe his mum had a point, that women developed eyes in the back of their head. He wasn’t deliberately looking at your legs, but he wasn’t not not looking either. For some reason unbeknownst to him, you had decided that you had to make the biggest batch of soup known to man. Sure the seasons were changing, summer slowly letting go for fall, but it wasn’t as if a chilly wind was rattling at the windows threatening to steal whatever heat existed. It was still relatively balmy, warm enough to have the windows open and enjoy the breeze. Warm enough that having the stove going made the kitchen borderline stuffy, encouraging you to cook in just a loose tank top and shorts that hit mid thigh.

Simon wasn’t a prude, he wasn’t scandalized at seeing the curve of your thighs, or grossed out by the cellulite. Everyone had fucking skin and however you wanted to dress in the comfort of your home you were welcomed to it. But he had eyes and well he was curious. His own body was covered in scars and tattoos that told a myriad of stories. So he looked to see what yours had to say.

Picking at the chicken you had left on the counter he counted the spots that your insulin pods left behind like stars, noticed how you missed a small strip of hair when you were shaving, even the mole that you had on the back of one ankle; they all came together to make up parts of a story about his wife that he was just starting to get.

He was so lost in thought, mechanically putting piece after piece of poached bird into his mouth, barely paying attention to anything besides the action of seeming busy, that he didn’t notice when you turned around, the exasperation in your voice finally catching his attention.

“Seriously? What did I just say?”

Simon wasn’t someone who startled, didn’t jump or hunch his shoulders to his ears. He had spent far to much time sharpening himself as to cut anyone who tried to catch him unaware. He just wasn’t prepared for you to admonish him like that, hands on your hips and looking for him to answer your question.

“What? You said not to look at your legs…I wasn’t lookin’ at them”

Not a lie, but not quite the truth.

“Yeah instead you’re eating your way through them!”

He blinked at you slowly once and then twice, following your gaze down to the plate of chicken leg quarters he was indeed making his way through. At least one looked like it had been pounced on by scavengers.

“You said no lookin’, nothing about no tasting.”

That was most certainly a twitch to your eye. That probably should have been concerning, but honestly Simon was secure enough in his height and size that if you tried to suffocate him he could throw you off. He was a good head taller than you, honestly how much damage could you do? When you pointed your wooden spoon threateningly at his chest it didn’t do much besides remind him of a little old grandma who would wield the same utensil as a weapon.

“You sir, are an asshole. Now go run to a shop and get me one of the pre cooked chickens.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve eaten half my damn chicken and like hell is my sancocho going to suffer for it.”

“Your what now?”

Yes Simon Riley knew he was being as ass. Yes he also thought that there was a realm of possibility that your upset face and clear murderous intentions were slightly endearing. But only slightly.

“My god damn soup. I swear to god if you fuck this up for me I will find a way to make you suffer the consequences.”

“Alright alright, no need to have a bird over some-heh, bird.”

He didn’t stay to see the double middle fingers you aimed for his back, he didn’t need to. He was pretty sure you were also cursing his name and maker. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind him that your colorful vocabulary was loudly shared with the world. It made him chuckle as he picked up his pace.

Heaven help anyone who got between a woman and her soup.

Edit

I am very passionate about my soup

#military program spouse #cod #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #Simon x Thimble #ghost x reader

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paulmccart · 11 months ago

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We're Not Gonna Take It! And the Story of How We Almost Did

Protesters outside of the PMRC senate hearings.

Are you a victim of rock? Well maybe you aren't, but all the way back in 1985 a group of prominent D.C wives felt that they were.

These women, with the help of Beach Boys member Mike Love and Joseph Coors, the owner of Coors Beers, formed the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center).

Their reasoning for forming as co-founder Susan Baker put it:

"It started because one day my 7-year-old came in and started quoting some of Madonna's lyrics to me, wanting to know what they meant. And I was shocked. I knew that you had to be concerned about movies and TV, but I didn't have a clue that my 7-year-old would be exposed to inappropriate songs."

The goal of the PMRC was to give parents more control over what their children could listen to. As well as implementing a rating system for music with bad language, sexual themes, and anti-Christian messages just to name a few. Eventually the group made a list of the fifteen worst songs, in their opinion and labeled them "The Filthy Fifteen".

(And it also happens to make a killer playlist)

Besides a rating system and lyrics printed on album covers the PMRC had several other goals including:

"...records with explicit covers be wrapped or kept under the counter; that record companies reassess contracts with performers who engage in sexual or violent acts on stage; that broadcasters be pressured to exhibit "voluntary restraint" by not airing offending music videos, which would also be rated."

All that noise coming from the PMRC culminated on September 19th, 1985. When a hearing in the senate occurred. Two musicians were called in on behalf of the music industry, Frank Zappa and Dee Snider of Twisted Sister. Two of musics most studious and serious creatives.

Zappa and Snider both gave eloquent defenses of what they deemed to be free speech.

youtube

But the PMRC had a trick up their sleeves... or so they thought.

They'd also invited John Denver to speak that day, assuming that he would stand with the side of "family values" but they were mistaken.

youtube

John Denver's testimony was the most scathing that day. He cited his own experience with having some of his music banned from radio. Even going as far as comparing the PMRC and groups like it to Nazi book burnings.

So what did the PMRC end up accomplishing? You know those tiny explicit labels in the corner of some albums? You can thank the PMRC for those. When they were originally introduced they were called "Tipper Stickers" after one of more outspoken PMRC members Tipper Gore (wife of Al Gore).

So while we didn't exactly take it, for a time we almost did. And thanks to testimony from Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Dee Snider, we can regularly enjoy any kind of music we want to- even the songs that promote the occult.

Both photographs come from Mark Weiss who photographed the event for Rock Scene Magazine.

#music history #pmrc #john denver #frank zappa #dee snider #1985 #Youtube #80s #history #twisted sister

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priestessame · 4 months ago

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♬ ▶• "I don't care, I'd never fucking eat pussy." ♬ ▶•

♬ ▶• (or so he said) Minors DNI! ♬ ▶•

♬ ▶• "𝔭𝔲𝔰𝔰𝔶 𝔭𝔲𝔱 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭, 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢'𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢 ⁿʸᵠᵘⁱˡ"

. . . ✰🎸✩ ♥︎ Ryomen Sukuna X Wife? Reader ♥︎

part 1 of the femme fatal playlist

warnings: Fem AFAB reader, mentions of blood and gore, oral receiving, teasing, spanking, public sex? degradation, spanking, squirting, monster-form sukuna (bros got 4 arms).

It was a dewy evening, the early summer bringing in an unwanted wave of humidity. The moths buzzed along the yellow flame of the street lamp and Sukuna crushed one in his hand at once, wiping his palm on his already soiled kimono. The sorcerers were getting too damn proud. He couldn't even relish the killing today, despite how many bugs had turned up. He gripped another one of those buzzing bastards, carefully ripping off its wings as it thrashed desperately in his hands.

Too dull. He thought.

The one he decided on next was more blue, hued crimson with brown, eye-like designs on its wings. Better, peeling the wings from its fuzzy body before tossing it in the undergrowth.

The faint smell of anko curled around him the moment he stepped closer to the estate. The air now was tinged with a different kind of warmth.

His robe was slashed open, and although the wounds had stitched themselves on his walk back, he still felt the strain of the kill. The grimy blood caked his skin, and the fleshy bits clinging to his skin had started to itch. All of it only deepened his frown.

In the moment his eyes wandered along the familiar landscape, trying to find some unfortunate servant he can rip up. But the figure that waddled out of the shoya residence was yours.

Your face lit up the moment you saw him, eyes bright, as you ran up to him.

"My lord!" you chirped out, your tone a stark change to the gloomy environment.

The prospect wasn't new to him, human offerings both alive and dead were far too common, thrown at his feet to please him, although more out of fear than reverence. So when the village head had begged him to take you, he accepted. He had gotten through most of the previous ones quickly, but you had managed to stay for an annoyingly long time.

Somewhere he needed to be credited for that. The only reason you had managed to live was because Sukuna found himself unable to pin his anger down on you.

For you, escaping death by his hands had become a past-time and after a while he had eased to your presence, not minding a pretty thing running around about him.

He sat down near the bamboo water pump as you tugged the reed to keep the water running. He watched you carry the pine-knit basket in your hands like you were waiting for him to be back all bloodied.

You stripped the torn robe off his shoulders, leaving him in his hakama pants. He looked messy, his pale skin bathed in crimson. The gore was everywhere, lining his sculpted muscles and trailing down his neck, sitting so thick you couldn't see the black markings that lined his torso.

You hummed behind him as you fetched the water. Sleeves drawn back to reveal your forearms, and poured the water over his bloodied palms, the gore washing down and pooling around his feet. The stale blood was hard to get off. The smell flooded around you two, making him curl his lip, but you just hummed nonchalantly.

"I learned how to make nagamashi today." You said, clearly very proud. "Yuu-ki taught me how to make the small ones that look like flowers-"

"You were out with that whore again?" He gruntled, holding his hands over the running water. Not that he really cared, but it surprised him that anyone even dared to so much as talk to you whilst knowing who he was.

"She's not a whore," You replied simply, "She's an artist, she tells stories."

"Of people fucking."

He had heard of her from Urame. They had found her in a small corner of the dingy market street, surrounded by a small huddle of people waiting to hear some washed-out smutty stories. Why had you suddenly developed an interest in those was beyond him. But every now and then he'd come home to you narrating another one of Yuuki's tales.

You giggled, "It's just ink on scrolls, they aren't as bad as you think."

You scrubbed at his palms, fingers gliding over his knuckles and sliding through his fingers. His gaze swept over to your face, reaching to play with strands of your hair that had escaped your bun, tucking the moth wings in it before retracting. His thumb brushed up against the swell of your cheek, leaving a blurry trail of blood water and your face warmed from the touch.

"She had a new story today." You babbled on, "About a traveller and a merchant's daughter he met.."

Sukuna sighed as he pulled you closer with his lower set of arms, holding you in his lap. As always you looked completely unfazed by the gore, only allowing a faint blush to cover your face before dabbing the cloth in tepid water and scrubbing the blood from his neck.

Your kimono had bunched around your waist, he let an idle hand run along the plushness of your exposed calves. You felt so mortal against his touch, like if he applied any more pressure you'd break.

I have heard he pleasured her." You trailed off, tapping a finger on his lips, "With his mouth."

As the shock of your words wore off, his laughter rumbled in his chest. He threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with how loud he laughed, and sound ringing around you.

"Shame" you replied smoothly. You felt his gaze snap towards you instantly, the laughter coming to a complete stop. You knew he was a proud man. Usually, when that was used against him, he was quick to falter.

He had never seen dominance that was wrapped in sweet words, licorice to taste.

The whole idea was absurd to him, why the fuck would he ever go down on a woman? But the way you had interjected him pissed him off. A small mortal thing like you, scoffing at him like he didn't know any better. His grip on your waist tightened,

In his life, the king of curses had only seen devotion. He had only been with men and women that brimmed with obedience. They were never against his words, heads always hung low, and eyes that wandered away from his face. Buried neck-deep in reverence and fear. They sought their pleasure in service to him, letting him use their bodies however he saw fit, and that's how it had always been.

"What do you mean woman?"

You blinked at him innocently, "I understand," You started, treating a dragon like its a house lizard on your wall. "Its okay to not know how to." you giggled.

The shocked silence that followed your words made you wonder if he really would just behead you now. Sukuna's jaw slacked, eyes narrowing at what you had just insinuated. His mouth tugged in a smile of disbelief.

So arrogant. So fucking arrogant.

The sky tilted as he pushed you backwards, until you were pressed under him, sprawled on the dew covered grass. Your heart hammered as he pinned you down, "What did you say?" he breathed, challenging you to repeat your words. He only had to use one hand to pin both your wrists over your head.

You gulped, the warmth that flooded your body made you want to curl your toes. His inhuman form eating yours up entirely. And there he was, right how you wanted him.

"N-nothing my lord," You played along, "I just-"

You yelped as his fingers dug through your kimono, ripping the fabric until your breasts spilled out. The bite of the cool air causing your nipples to harden.

Sukuna has soon realized that taming you was like trying to catch a cloud with his bare hands. All the strength and power he had acquired, simply did not matter. He had never expect the thrill he would find in that, of being so hopelessly wrapped around your finger. It drove him mad. You drove him absolutely mad.

"I have killed others for way less." He stated, dragging his fingers along your torso. You shivered involuntarily under his touch, eyes pulling up to meet his. Your breasts were laced with markings from last night.

The animalistic need crawled up his throat. He won't admit how much he enjoyed it. How much he loved it, he loved your stupid arrogance, he loved how your unyielding eyes met his so brazenly, and the nimble fingers that touched him shamelessly. His fingers stopped right over your hips before sinking into your thighs.

Dew seeped into the back of your kimono, your breath bating from the anticipation.

He pushed them up, pressing them flush against your chest, exposing you to him completely.

The sight of your pretty cunt sent blood rushing to his core. You presented to him so fucking perfectly, he would be lying if he had never thought of putting his tongue on your folds. feel that velvety heat clamp down his tongue as he prodded it deeper. Fuck him.

The only thing he didn't like was how fucking smug you looked. Enjoying having the king of curses kneel between her legs.

"Such a fucking mess." he breathed, the strings of slick coating the inside of your thighs. "Just the thought of it has you this riled up?"

His fingers brushed against your folds parting them to slip his thumb in your gushing hole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, walls squeezing around him immediately. Dragging his knuckles along your slick, and pressing his calloused palm flush against your core.

The mouth on his palm licked you kittenishly, and you jumped,

Sukuna arched his eyebrow, "Not scared now are we?" he grinned, pushing his weight on you slightly.

You kicked his chest jokingly, only for him to grab your ankle and yank you towards him. "I'm not letting you wriggled out of this one." he cooed.

The pads of his fingers found your clit, "you're gonna take what I give you like a good little slut."

Your arousal stuck to his palm as he teased you, wanting you to grind yourself against his hand. He liked seeing you under him, presenting for him so pretty.

In the moment he knew he was going to ruin you, bury his face in your cunt until you were crying from the overstimulation.

Sukuna dove into it straight away, dragging his rough tongue over your sloppy folds. The scent of your arousal consuming him entirely. He wasn't gentle with it, the sounds came out lewd and sick and your heels dug into his back. You felt him suck you, lips wrapping around your throbbing clit.

"Fucking gushing like some common whore." He chuckled, spiting on your cunt before lapping it up. His tongue slipped into your entrance, the tip of his nose pressing into your clit. He ate you out like a depraved man, laughing at how wet you were. The sick pleasure of it all was too much for you already. You squirmed from the way he ate you out, his grip only tightening to keep you from moving too much. He used his teeth to pull at your sensitive skin, until your thighs were trembling with the simulation.

Sukuna was having too much fun with your reactions, you were acting like he was touching your for the first time, a babble of incoherent words falling from your lips. "What?" he drawled, pulling away slightly, "Did I tongue fuck you dumb already?" He jeered, bringing his hand forward to slap your pussy.

Just the impact pushed you over the edge, drawing your first orgasm easily and you came hard, back arching off the ground. Sukuna chuckled at your reaction, "impatient little cunt" He purred. You buckled as he continued to roll his thumb on your over sensitive clit, the movement deliciously rough. "I didn't say you could cum yet."

You tried to squeezed your thighs "P-please." You managed,

"Hmm?" He asked, his breath still hot on your folds, "Is the slut begging me for more or begging me to stop?"

He manhandled you unto all fours, the remaining fabric of your soiled kimono hanging off your waist as your fingers dug into the soft earth, desperate to grab at something. The position was even more embarrassing than before. The cold air hit your folds and you squirmed from the lack of attention. If only Sukuna's could be satiated from looking at you, ass up and face down, practically begging him to have his way with you. Your arousal dripped down between your legs impatiently.

His hands groped at the swell of of your hip, spreading you apart, eyes pinned on your gushing hole.

"Tell me what you want me to do." He stated, his voice edged with something you couldn't place.

The confusion from his sudden change of gait had you spluttering, "I- uh-" His mouth parted over your skin, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle, teeth only tentatively pulling at your tender skin. You could hear the grin in his voice as he growled, "Command me woman."

The way he said it send a chilling thrill down your spine. You turned your head back, throwing a look of absolute defiance back at him. "Use your fucking tongue to please me." you stated, your voice ringing out with pure desire. It was a command in every sense of the word, beckoning even the kind of curses to kneel. Sukuna groaned in response to your tone, all of it going straight to his cocks. He was hard with just the way you had said it, audacious, like you had a leash around his neck already.

He hungrily flattening his tongue against you hot cunt, feeling your throb for him desperately against his tongue.

The only slut he'd ever let command him.

Your eyes rolled back as he pushed his tongue in deeper, eating you out like a depraved man. Tongue liking up stripes from your entrance to you clit, in strokes where you could feel him spell out his name. It was messy and hot making you want you grind yourself against his face, but the grip on your hips kept you in your place, stopping you from humping his face like some bitch in heat.

The pleasure continued to build, unlike anything you had felt before. The way your pleasure built in you felt weird this time, a painful pressure like you were about to burst from the inside out.

"I-i can't-" you moaned in pleasure as he spanked you hard, palm leaving a biting mark on your hip. Your knees buckled from the impact as he brought his palm to collide against your ass again and again. Sending a jolting spark of pleasure down your spine, making you squeeze hard around his tongue.

"Somethings-" you tried, the orgasm feeling different this time, the knot in your stomach snapped as it rolled into you with an unanticipated waved of pleasure.

You actually saw stars, juices gushing out uncontrollably as you squirted on his tongue. Sukuna stopped holding you up, and the exhaustion made you collapse on the soft earth.

Your release had drenched him, the taste still curling in his mouth. Sukuna's eyes pinned on our spent form, your entrance twitched as the slick pooled between your legs. Your pretty clit stull hard as if begging him to fuck you now.

fucking hell, he grinned, that was fucking hot.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You're doing that again. The high of the pleasure made the blood roar in your ears, all you wanted to do was bury your face until sleep enveloped you. He chuckled, enjoying how dishevelled you looked in the moment.

The world tipped off its axis as he threw you over his shoulder. Hell, if he knew you could do that, he would have buried his face in your sweet cunt wayy earlier.

FULL PLAYLIST HERE

CRYING I FINALLY CAME AROUND TO WRITING THESE SERIES.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Taglist: @elenor222 @yaeshima

#jjk imagines #jjk men #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna jjk #reader x sukuna #kinktober

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mastermindmiko · 2 months ago

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Third times' the charm

pairing: Sirius Black + reader

Summary: The two times you and Sirius didn't kiss on new years and the one time you did

For the sake of this story please imagine that Hogwarts classes continue in the new year, so they can have parties in the common room.

Warnings: none, I believe, but let me know Masterlist

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! I hope everyone's new year is joyful and prosperous, enjoy 2025

Gryffindor parties always are booming to the point where we need several silencing enchantments in order to keep it quiet, merlin knows what minnie would do if she found out her house were sneaking in alcohol and the loudest muggle speaks any muggleborn could find (simply because a spell wouldn’t have the same effect as speakers).

Despite all that, my boys and I are always divided the same way we always are. James on the dance floor trying to woo Lily, Sirius trying to woo the third girl of the night, Remus playing poker, winning of course, how else would Gryffindor house be able to pay for the barrels of booze and the bottles of Firewhiskey. Peter watches Remus win, counting the money and telling them how much they need to pay the shady dealer that they got the alcohol from.

I am doing arguably the most important job of the whole party, playing the music. I’ve created many many many playlists and all of which are featured in Gryffindor parties. I play some ABBA (Lily’s request), Bowie (Remus’ request) and Queen (Sirius’ request). From the corner of my eye, I see James walk up to the desk where I have everything set up, the different CDs, the record players and of course the speakers.

“Hello!” James shouts, voice low to me from being so close to the speakers. He’s sweating a bunch from all the dancing and his cheeks flushed. If he wasn’t an athlete, I’d think he’d pass out, so many people with so little air with that much effort? I would’ve been long gone a while ago. I reply, “Hey, James, any reason you left your mission to come speak to me?”

“My mission was not abandoned, I just changed tactics.” He declared, and turned to give me some puppy eyes, that I thought only Sirius had mastered. I sighed, “Oh no.”

“Please, please, please, please, please-” James started to beg, holding his hands together, and I was sure that he was a second away from getting down on his knees. I unwound his hands, and looked at him in disdain, anticipating that he’ll tell me something that will make me jump off of the astronomy tower. I groaned, “No amount of begging will make me do anything you want James, if I don’t already want to do it.”

“That’s not true, last month, you didn’t want to turn all the Slytherin’s dinner back alive again, but you helped us-”

“No, I never said I didn’t want to do that, I simply said that I didn’t have the time.” I reply, and the record ends, so I quickly pull out another and place it on the record player. The music filled the room again, and Sirius came to join the discussion. He asks, “How’s it going with the Queen’s best hits album-”

“Not now, Padfoot, I’m in the process of making all my dreams come true.” James interrupts, and turns to look at me once more, he continues, “It’s a simple request really, very very small, very insignificant, you’ll barely even notice that you’re doing it-”

“Cut to the chase, James.” I huff, and he once again activates his puppy eyes. He pleads, “You would really be the best, the absolute best if you could play a slow song for me and Lily.”

“What?! James, a slow song? This is a party, no one wants a slow song.” I moan, and he juts his bottom lip out, pouting. Sirius gives him a little thumbs up from the corner of my eye, so they have been teaching each other. I smack Sirius’ hand down. James says, “I’ll dance with Lily and she’ll be my new year’s kiss and we will have a lovely year together, spending it in each other’s arms and-”

“I really do not want to know where that sentence was heading.” I cut him off, and Sirius throws an arm around my shoulder, I straighten up a bit. Sirius supports, “A slow sound would actually do wonders in helping me seal the deal too, love.”

“Ohh, speaking of which, who is the poor unfortunate victim that will have to spend the first second of the new year locking lips with you?” James asks, and I feel myself getting disgusted from the boys around me. Sirius starts to toy with a strand of my hair, and he replies, “Molly Prewett.”

“Molly Prewett!” I scream, and Sirius shushes me almost just as loudly as I scream the poor girl’s name. I protest, “Fabian and Gideon will kill you if you come near her, plus she’s a sixth year, and you’re two years younger than her, she wouldn’t even look at you, and she’s head over heels for Arthur Weasley who will also kill you if you come near her.”

“I can handle a few punches, Arthur's not here, and what the twins don’t know won’t hurt them.” Sirius refutes, and I roll my eyes at him. I huff, “And how exactly do you expect to get those two away from their sister.”

I look to where Fabian and Gideon are sitting on either side of their sister on the couch who is talking to her friend on the opposite couch. They’re always attached to the hip and they are always ready to defend their sister when it comes to anyone who is not a female. Sirius shrugs his shoulders, “Simple, we distract them by something they both want.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“Gideon’s easy, you know how he’s been wanting Remus to help him with his poker game for years now, and Remus agreed to help. Fabian on the other hand wants something a little bit more difficult for me to achieve.” Sirius looks at me, eyebrows raised, suggestively and I furrow mine. James hums, “Ohh yeah I heard about those rumors too.”

“But alas my brother, they are not rumors, it is in fact true.” Sirius says, and looks back at me again. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and I question, “What rumors?”

“Our dear, dear, fellow prankster and fifth year, Fabian Prewett, twin of Gideon Prewett, and more importantly, brother of Molly Prewett, likes you.” Sirius announces, smirking as my face flushes and I let out a squeal of surprise. I shove Sirius’ arm off my shoulder and it only makes his grin widen. I say, “But I’ve barely even talked to him, how can he like me?”

“Maybe that’s what he likes, you know the mystery.” James teases, wiggling his fingers in a spooky manner. I ignore the boy, and look back at Sirius. I ask, “I am not going to be a part of your game.”

“You’ll be helping your dearest friend.” Sirius tries, I shake my head and say, “Remus is my dearest friend.”

“Second dearest?”

“Nope. That would be James.” James punches the air in victory.

“Third?”

“Peter actually cause he doesn’t pester me with annoying requests.” I say, and Sirius huffs. He relaxes his shoulders and gives me a smile before grabbing one of my hands in both of his. He says, “For your very dear and close friend.”

“I am not going to kiss someone I don’t want to kiss and lead them on just for you to get a new year’s kiss from a girl that probably doesn’t like you and whom you’ll dump a few days later.” I stated, and his shoulders sagged. He opened his mouth to protest, but I gave him a firm glare.

“Well, at least help out my poor boy James, you wouldn’t want to break both our hearts tonight.” Sirius says, moving towards James, slinging an arm around his shoulder and both of them give me the cute puppy dog eyes that make me so very weak. I groan, “Ugh, fine. But only if the moment is right.”

“Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you!” James exclaims, and gives me a quick hug from over the table and I smile at his enthusiasm. He whispers, “Make sure it’s after an ABBA song so that Lily is already standing.”

I nod my head and he drifts off back to where he was, centre of the common room, shaking his body to the beat and lip syncing all the lyrics to Lily who looked around trying to avoid making eye contact with him but with a slight flush on her face. Sirius goes back to trying to get Molly’s approval as her new year’s kiss while I shuffle through the boxes of CDs trying to find any of them suitable for a slow song.

Sooner than I realised, the countdown starts. We are only two seconds in before Sirius comes sitting next to me rubbing his jaw in pain. I ask, “What happened?”

“Arthur punched me when I tried to get close to Molly, apparently he floo-ed in just so he could kiss her.” He groans and continues to rub his jaw.

Sirius looks at me quickly, and he perks up.

I look at him all confused, until I realise that he is starting to lean towards me with his eyes fluttering shut, hand reaching out to grab onto my waist.

I laugh at how absurd it is that he thinks I might actually kiss him. I raise my palm to cover his mouth, and he pouts underneath my palm.

“Don’t even think about it, Sirius.”

***

But the funny thing is, while Sirius didn’t think about it, I did.

Sirius always was my friend, just a friend, never in my life have I ever thought that padfoot, my friend since we were eleven and that is five years now could be anything more to me than just a friend, a comrade. Never in my life have the thought of something more even entered my head to even just cross it, until it did.

It simply just wasn’t my fault. There were three factors at fault here; Marlene, the suit and Sirius. It all started when we were sitting in the common room, as we always are. Lily, Marlene, Alice, Mary and I. The talk led to the conversation of boys. Somehow in a way unknown to me it led to Sirius. Mary chimed, “He is quite fit, you know.”

“No, I’d never thought about it really.” I shrugged my shoulders, indifferently. Marlene looked at me in an absurd way and she giggled, “Come on, you have to know that he is quite gorgeous, think about it.”

And I did. I thought about his long perfect shiny smooth black hair that always seems to fall in the most perfect way. His nose arched just right, and his cupid’s bow was very pretty. How his eyes are the perfect mix between a cold grey and a stormy ocean that could just make anyone fall to their knees. The next thing I knew, I blushed whenever he hugged me or came to sit flushed next to me.

To make matters even worse, there was a Slughorn dinner party, and while of course, I got invited because of my excellent potion skills, Sirius only got invited due to name recognition. He might not be good at potions, but any member of the Black family didn’t have to be. Sirius invited me along as his date, his reasons being: Everyone already understands that he and I are just friends so he can go with me, talk to any girl he’d like, rather than if he had gone with a date which then he would’ve only been able to talk to her alone.

It seemingly made sense in the realm of the boy world, a place where I would never like to be and didn’t put much thought into. It also took the burden of finding a date off of me, so really the invite was a blessing. The problem arised when Sirius had come down the stairs before the dinner. So, there he was standing, hair looking perfect, shiny black oxfords and most importantly a tailored suit that made him look so incredibly elegant, and, there is no other way to describe it, expensive.

Having Marlene already opened my eyes to the Sirius Black appeal, not drooling over him when wearing a suit was almost impossible. The night went on without a hitch, except for one. Sirius’ did not abide by his reason for him asking me to be his date. He didn’t talk to another girl the whole night, even when Slughorn talked about yet again one of his achievements. I might not have been super focused but I didn’t so much see him glance at another girl. I might be blindsighted to these kinds of things, but not only was that happening, but he also seemed closer to me than usual.

The usual being what I was used to with the boys. The arm around the shoulder, the occasional for a small moment hug, sometimes even a mocking kiss on the forehead. What was not the usual was holding my hand (albeit for a few minutes), and the kiss on my check that he left at the end of the night before I headed to my dorm.

That is why Sirius is the third fault because why would someone who is clearly such a womanizer and anti-attachment supporter choose his friend to be attached to for a whole night, ignoring the complete existence of the previously mentioned reason for the date in the first place.

It would be completely and utterly foolish of me to say that I have no regard for Sirius’ that would be a lie, we are friends, close friends, and I sometimes look at him and want more. I blame that on his looks, it’s a wonder how generations of inbreeding the ancient and noble house of Black did not lead to deformities but rather elegance and beauty. I also blame it on his carefree attitude and the way he can make almost anyone laugh at any given moment despite what was going on in their heads.

Not to mention the fact that he is much deeper than what most of Hogwarts perceived him as, what I perceived him until lately. See, the invite to Slughorn’s dinner was only the beginning of a myriad of ‘adventures’ that I began to have with Sirius. Talks in the astronomy tower, late night snacks into the kitchens, and such. I want to ask him what caused the sudden change, but I was much too afraid to ask him, frightening him, and no longer seeing his gorgeous, beautiful face-

Maybe I liked him more than I led myself to believe, and all of these thoughts and memories entered my head because once again, just like twelve months ago, I am standing in the exact same spot, and I say, “We are not doing this again this year.”

The two boys both begged me for the same things as last year, but this time a little different. I start with James, “Remember what happened last year during the slow dance that you requested? Lily danced with some innocent boy that she might’ve actually liked and what did you do? Hex him! You hexed him! Lily didn’t talk for a while didn’t she? (not like she usually talks to you anyways…) Why do you think that repeating the same actions another time will lead to a different outcome?”

I huff and turn to Sirius, “What is up with you and this need you have for a new years kiss? You didn’t get one last year didn’t you? And didn’t this year turn out fine? Stop trying to get that kiss of yours from girls who you don’t want anyways. Doesn’t a new year’s kiss only matter if you’re getting it from someone you like?”

“Well, I-” James starts, but Sirius presses his index to James’ lips, hushing him. He clears his throat then says, “I’ll go first, prongs. The new year’s kiss isn’t simply about locking lips with some random girl. It’s about giving out goodluck into the new year, setting the tone for all the upcoming relationships, ensuring that I don’t spend a year filled with loneliness!”

He huffed and walked away towards the common room exit. My eyebrows shoot up, stunned at Sirius’ outburst on something so pathetic, or at least it seems that way to me. As I’ve come to learn, the things that Sirius’ cares about are cared about for a reason that he doesn’t usually share. I need to go check up on him. James starts, “I think you should-”

“On it, James.” I move around my setup and table and head towards the exit of the common room. James scoffs from behind me, “Why is no one letting me finish my sentences today?”

I close the portrait of the fat lady behind me and I see him leaning against a wall cigarette in hand. He sees me walk up to him and he puts the cigarette out, he knows how I hate those things. He turns to look the other way and I sigh, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He doesn’t reply and I see him twitching to reach for another cigarette, he folds his arms instead. I ask, “Can I tell you what I think at least?”

“Always, you know I love hearing you talk even if you’re psychologically analyzing me.” He chuckles at the end, I find myself smiling a bit myself. I clear my throat before starting, “I wouldn’t know much about superstitions and all of that, but I’m sure none of what you said is that important to you except for one thing. The part about loneliness?”

“Sirius, I want you to know that the love- the relationship we all have together, it’s unbreakable, and nothing as small and insignificant as a kiss at a specific time during the year is going to change that.” I reassure him, and reach out to place a hand on his shoulder.

He sighs, “Never in my- I’ve never had um this feeling of security in all of this, and when I was younger, I had no one, but well, Reggie-Regulus be we all know how that turned out, and I just want some sort of guarantee, some sort of reassurance, I guess that I won’t be lonely, just to calm me down a bit. If a stupid kiss can help with that, then why not?”

“I get what you mean, Sirius.” I say, and give me a smile while rubbing my hand over his shoulder. He reaches out to grab my hand, and softly grabs it in his delicate and long fingers. He presses a soft kiss to the palm of my hands. Lips hovering over my skin and his hot breath warming up my cold hand. He whispers, “Thank you, darling”

His thumb brushes over my skin, and he looks at me with those beautiful eyes. My whole soul feels like it’s humming and vibrating from the contact. I swear that he inches a little bit closer and that for a split second, I feel his eyes lower from mine to my lips. It’s enough for my breath to get caught. The moment, too delicate to break so I whisper back, “You should probably try and find that kiss now, midnight is in less than a minute.”

His movements pause, I think this is it, until he pulls away completely, taking two large steps back. The cold engulfs my body once more, and he nods his head before walking right past me and into the common room. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, I’m almost completely sure that I hadn’t read the moment wrong.

I hear them start the countdown.

I take my two steps towards the common room

I wave to the fat lady and I say the password

The door swings open and-

Sirius is kissing Marlene McKinnon

***

That relationship didn’t last long, two weeks to be precise, and just after it ended within only four days, Marlene got together with Dorcas Meadows. The ‘fallout’ if you could call it that, was entirely my fault. I had previously thought that my feelings for Sirius were purely infatuation, but after spending the first half an hour of the new year, crying while Remus held me because Remus always knows about things like these, I realised they may be deeper than I had known.

Nothing changed, it just went back to how it was before. We all hangout together as a group, Sirius and I alone? Not so much anymore, so the same as to how it was. Sirius tried, many times, to get me to engage with him, but I couldn’t. I should’ve pushed my feelings aside so as to not hurt him, but I felt as though I was the one doing all the hurting.

This new year, there was no party, you would think that the last new years’ Gryffindor Hogwarts party for the marauders would be the biggest and the loudest and the craziest, but this new year was spent differently. There was a party going on, it just didn’t involve us.

I’ve only ever visited Dumbledore’s office a handful of times during my time here at Hogwarts, I wasn't as much of a trouble maker as my friends who knew the office layout by heart, and became close friends with our headmaster’s phoenix. It was some sort of initiation to some secret organisation, he called it ‘the order of the phoenix’.

Dark times were upon us, and everyday the dark lord gets stronger while we don’t do anything about it. People are dying, muggles are dying and muggle borns even. Soon the target will be on our backs, those who support those muggles. It would be crazy if we didn’t help, if we didn’t take a stand. When Dumbledore asks us to put our names down on an enchanted paper, I was the last one to write my name down. I couldn’t even grab the quill before-

“No.”

“No?” I turn to look at the source of the protest and there he is, standing, arms folded, looking very angry for some reason. He states, as if it were obvious, “You’re not joining.”

I look at him incredulously, and turn my whole body towards him to ask, “Why the hell not?”

“Oopp- um Sirius’ I think you outta take this somewhere else, if you’re going to quarrel.” Mary suggests from next to Lily. Sirius puts her suggestion deep into his head, and he grabs me by my hand. I stop him dead in his tracks and oppose, “We’re not going to quarrel, cause he doesn’t have a say in what I do or don’t do.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and before I could even try to process what was happening, he hauls me by my waist over his shoulder, and he takes me outside the office. I scream, “Hey! Put me down!”

He slams the door behind us, and he starts walking down a spiral staircase. My body jumps up and down and each movement has its own impact on Sirius’ shoulder. I groan everytime and I groan and shout, “Fine, fine, just get me off your damn shoulders.”

He does not listen to me and we reach the opening of Dumbledore’s office at the base of the spiral staircase. He lifts me up and sets me down in front of him. I scream, “What the hell was that? You can't just manhandle me like that, and you can't tell me what I can and can't do!”

“You can’t join the order! It's dangerous.” he says, and I roll my eyes, the fury building up more and more inside me. I shout, “And what it’s dangerous foe me, but not for anyone else? Everyone in there signed up! Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Alice, Frank, James, Peter-”

“I don’t need the list, I was there.” he says, and I can’t hear what he’s saying at this point, I continue, “Am I not as good a witch as everyone else there?”

“Merlin- of course not, you could beat any of our asses easy-”

“Then why the hell not?”

“You could get hurt.” Sirius says and his eyes narrow down at the floor at the tips of his shoes as if he just confessed something. I scoff, “And no one else is going to get hurt? The death eaters are going to try to harm me anyways-”

“Being in the order is a bigger target on your back, and-”

“Supporting muggle borns is reason enough for them to try to kill me, being in the order at least allows me to fight back.” I reason and Sirius isn’t having it. His arms folded and face red, “You can't die.”

"I can not keep losing you like this." He admits, and his voice cracks. It's enough to bring my anger down to a simmer. I sigh, "You're not losing me."

"Really?" He snaps, and he looks me directly in the eye for the first time in this conversation. He bursts, "You told me all that sweet bullshit about how our relationship is unbreakable and then you go and ignore me, sometimes you wouldn't even look at me, without so much as a reason why."

Shame seeps into my skin, I didn't think that it would impact him this much, I didn't think he cared about our friendship this much. He continues, "And you did this for nearly a year, a whole year! Do you know how terrible that was?"

It's my turn to look at the floor, and I stutter, "I-I I'm sorry, I didn't know -"

"I want a reason." He states firmly. Looking at me with a steady gaze. I take a moment and think, is this when I actually tell him?

"And, please...make it the truth." He says, and I sigh, "I would never lie to you."

I take a deep breath and admit, "You kissed Marlene Mckinnon."

"What?"

"Last year, your New years kiss was Marlene." I say, hoping I don't have to say more, that he will understand, drop it, and we can go on as is. He questions, "What does that have to do with us?"

"I didn't want you to kiss Marlene, I wanted you to kiss me." I finish, and I bite my lip anxiously. I look back at the floor, and I hear him say, "Oh."

I feel my eyes begin to sting with tears as the silence stretches. He takes a step closer to me, and he says, "Ten seconds left till midnight."

Great, I'm going to start another year off in tears. The thought makes me sniffle, a tear fails to escape as Sirius places his index under my chin. He tilts my head up, and I gasp.

His gaze is hyperfocused on one thing only, my lips. I feel time tick inside my head, second by second.

He leans into me, and I pull back

"I don't want you to kiss me just because of a New years kiss."

"I'm going to kiss you because I want you. I want you as all my New Year's kisses for the rest of my life."

He counts this time, each time more and closer to my lips. He whispers, "Three... Two...one."

His lips crash into mine, and all I can say is, finally.

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