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trippinsorrows · 25 days

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looking through your eyes + fourteen

authors note: swear this was the chapter that never fucking ended. it's essentially part one because even with how long it is, i still have a lot to cover. 😩

anywayssss, some foreshadowing, a ton of fluff, and some long awaited moments below.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, smut

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

masterlist

words: 15k (sorrows, sorrows, prayers)

“Did they hurt?” The question is asked while sitting on top of Roman’s lap, the default seat for her, it seems, whenever she’s in his presence. Her fingers ghost over his inked skin, slightly fascinated by the intricacies of the design. Tribal. A nod to his heritage and his story.

Like most, if not all things with Solana, he answers truthfully. “Not really, but I have a high pain tolerance, so it’s hard to say.” For some reason, that makes her frown a bit. Was that a natural inherited thing or some level of tolerance built up from years of said pain? “Do you want any?”

She nods, tracing one of the patterns with her finger. “In Mexican culture, Hummingbirds represent many things. Strength. Love. But, the thing my mom always focused on and stressed to me is they’re also messengers from the spirits in heaven. That…they remind us of lost loved ones.” Her shoulders lift a little. Small, sad smile on her face. “Sometimes, I think I’d like to get one tattooed on me. Like…like a tribute to her, but then I think about the needle and don’t know if that could trigger me somehow.”

It could trigger from a couple different angles, but namely her trauma with knives as well as her history of self-harming. But, Solana is certain Roman already recognizes this, thus her not going into specifics. “I don’t know. I’ll….I’ll think about it some more.”

Roman nods, offering, “if you decide to get it, I’ll go with you.”

It’s a thoughtful gesture, not entirely surprising. Solana is starting to recognize there’s very little the man underneath her wouldn’t do for her.

Appreciatively kissing his cheek, she murmurs, “thank you.” Biting on her lip, she foolishly tries to see if she can get something else out of him. “Speaking of going….”

Roman chuckles. “I’m not telling you.” He rolls his eyes as she pouts almost, his thumb going to her cheek, the cut almost entirely healed. “You’ll find out in a couple hours.”

It’s been almost a week since the gala, and the temperature has settled tremendously. Roman still doesn’t like thinking about it, thinking about how he lost his fucking shit but mostly at the fact that Solana was attacked.

He’s about to start having someone with her at all times. Even in the bathroom.

Roman has also noticed there seems to be some conflicted emotions on Solana’s end regarding what happened in the bathroom. Namely because she caught wind of Wes injuries, injuries that are truly tame compared to what Roman would have done and will do once he gets his hands on that son of a bitch.

But, he is him, and Solana is her. They are very different people. She is gentle where he is hard, so while there is still that adrenaline and proudness she was experiencing at defending herself as well as she did, he can see it’s something that’s bothering her.

He’s tried to bring it up, but she shuts down, so he’s left it alone out of respect.

But, with her birthday being tomorrow and them leaving in a couple hours for their trip, he’s hopeful getting away will be good for her. For them.

She then asks a bit of a silly question considering who she’s talking to. Roman plans for every little thing, from the most major detail to the thing that most likely won’t happen but still serves as something that needs to be accounted for. “Is….is it at least domestic? I don’t have a passport.”

“Yes, you do.” He opens the first drawer of his desk, pulling out a small Louis Vuitton passport cover and hands it to her.

Solana looks down with a gasp seeing that she, in fact, has a passport. A brand new, unstamped passport. “How did you—”

An easy answer. “I’m a billionaire, Solana. There’s nothing I can’t buy or make happen.”

It makes sense, but it doesn’t do much to chip away the tremendous amount of guilt and how bad she feels in learning that Roman’s birthday was back in May, and no one said or did a thing about it or acknowledged it.

She can still feel her stomach dropping when she asked a few days about when his is, and he calmly informed that it had already passed. That hurt. Truly. To know what should be a special occasion was essentially treated as any other day.

His explanation made sense. He expressed not liking to acknowledge his birthday because of what happened when he was 10. She can understand that. She does understand that, but it doesn’t make her feel any less sad at the fact that she didn’t even know it was her husband’s freaking birthday.

Solana expresses said concern. “But…it’s….it’s not fair we’re doing all this for my birthday, and I didn't even know yours—”

“Hey—” He interrupts her, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t do that.” He pushes back some of her hair. “My story is my story. Not yours.” She opens her mouth clearly to protest or counter when his eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Besides, seeing you half naked most of the day for a week? Might as well be my fucking birthday.”

Solana rolls her eyes. He has a way of making her feel better in the most interesting and often raunchy sort of way. Blushing and smiling at his suggestive comment, she shrugs, admitting, “there are more bathing suits in my suitcase than clothes.”

“Good. The less clothes you have on, the better.” Her cheeks must be a red mess. Roman taps on her hip, gesturing for her to stand up. He also stands and takes her hand in his. “Come here. There’s something I want to show you.”

Solana looks down at her outfit which is most definitely nothing appropriate enough to leave the house in. “Are we leaving the house or—”

“No.” His answer is simple and to the point that she doesn’t really press him for more information as he guides her through the house. A frown does fall on her face, however, when she sees he’s taken her down the hall where he’d said construction was previously taking place.

It’s only then she finally asks, “what—”

“Close your eyes.”

Solana makes a face. “Roman, what are you—”

He steps towards her, pushing back her hair. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.” If she was anyone else, Solana is certain his tone would be much different. A lot darker, harsher. But, it’s not. Just….strangely calm.

Blowing out a breath, she relents, realizing there’s not really an option for anything else. “Okay.” Shutting her eyes, she allows him to continue to guide her, stopping for a moment as she hears a door open. He directs her to walk through said opened door followed by a light switch, the presence of that light shining against her closed eyes.

Solana feels him shift behind her, his arms snaking around her, mouth dipping to her ear. “Open em’.”

Solana doesn't need to be told twice, and as soon as they’re open, a gasp leaves her mouth. Naturally, she walks away from him, deeper into the room that has an open floor plan, walls almost entirely lined with white, empty shelves. Bookshelves. Against the walls and the cutout part of the room. Not to be confused with the other nook that’s occupied by seating, pillows, and anything else someone would need if indulging in reading or writing.

Walking further into the space, she sees another area clearly curated for another purpose. Art. A table to create on, two easels, countless art supplies all perfectly situated near the bay window that allows for natural sunlight.

The perfect place to create.

Taken completely back by the surprise of it all, Solana turns to Roman, stammering to ask, “is–is this for me?”

“You know it’s damn sure not for me.” He steps toward her again, gently pulling her against him. “You were outgrowing that space. And your journals are personal. They shouldn’t be kept at work.” His thumb brushes across her bottom lip. “They should be here. This is your home now.”

“Roman….” She looks around again, tears growing in her eyes.

He continues to explain. “It would have been ready sooner, but when I found out you like art, I had them add that.” He gestures to the corner that has to be any artist's dream. “I’m not smart about a lot of that shit, so just let me know anything else you ne—”

He’s silenced by Solana practically jumping him, angling her body to face him as she wraps her arms around his neck. A hug, deep and sentimental. It takes him off guard for a second, Roman unused to such….affection.

But, the discomfort settles into something that almost feels natural. His hand on the small of her back as he chuckles. “I’m gonna take it that you like it then.” It’s not necessarily a question as much as an assessment.

She gives a watery chuckle, pulling back and nodding. “I love it.” Her voice breaks. “No…..no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” It goes without saying this doesn't include her mom, who Roman is almost certain did more for her than anyone ever could. Especially when she needed it the most.

Doesn’t mean he can’t do his part though.

She swallows, whispering as he wipes away her tears. “Thank you.”

“What I tell you about that, huh?” He ghosts his lips over hers, reminding yet again. “You never have to thank me for anything.” Roman kisses her forehead, seeing how her eyes shut from feeling content and partially overwhelmed. It brings a small smile to his face. “Happy birthday, Solana….”

________

“Oh my god….”

Roman doesn’t have to be looking up to know what’s caught Solana’s attention. It’s obvious by the way the SUV has come to a stop, shifting into park as they’ve clearly reached their destination.

And she’s clearly looking up at said destination. Well, the conduit to help them travel to said destination.

When he finishes sending out an email, one of the last before he goes into somewhat work blackout—because he never be fully disconnected—he looks up to see Solana still staring out the window.

“Is that….is that a private jet?”

Smirking, Roman slides his phone in his bag and removes his seatbelt. “You really think I fly commercial?”

It’s not intended to come across as rude, and it isn't judging by her small smile. “They’re bigger than I imagined….”

“Mine is.” Double entendre, if he really wanted to make her blush, but he keeps it PG. For now. “I’m tall. Need the leg room.”

Roman exits the SUV at the same time the driver opens the door for Solana to do the same. He easily circles back around to her just in time for her to sling her small backpack on her shoulder and adjust her ball cap. In sneakers without any sort of height boost, she looks even tinier than she already is, especially compared to his massive build.

Taking her hand, Roman asks, “you ready?”

She nods as he leads them over to the descended stairs where the pilot and two flight attendants stand outside, greeting them. The older man, Bob, he thinks, lifts his hat and nods respectfully in their direction.

“Mr. Reigns. Mrs. Reigns. Everything is just as you requested.”

Roman only gives a nod to acknowledge things being exactly as they should. His way.

He motions for Solana to walk up ahead of him, mainly so he can enjoy the view of her ass in the tight ass outfit she has on but also out of manners.

Manners he only seems to be able to find in her presence.

She loiters a bit near the entrance, moving aide for him to also fully enter but still stands almost frozen, clearly taken back by the interior.

“This is….”

“The best,” he finishes for her, tossing his bag on the closest beige sofa that lines both sides of the jet. Roman moves over to her, hand palming her ass as he dips his head to whisper in her ear. “I don’t accept anything less.”

She giggles against him, the sound hands down one of the best songs on the soundtrack when they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Momentarily considering murder for probably the fifth time today, Roman turns to see Paul standing at the bottom of the steps. Roman literally forgot this man was in the SUV behind them, coming to see them off.

Paul lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, asking with all of the unease. “A word, please, my Tribal Chief?”

The automatic answer would be no if not for Solana turning around and placing her hand on his chest. A frequent gesture he never gets tired of. Any touch from her is always welcomed.

Her smile dips a bit as she asks with the same level of unease shared by Paul, “is—is it okay if I look around?”

Her question makes him scowl. Her asking him permission to do anything feels uncomfortable as fuck. “You don’t have to ask my permission for shit. Anything that’s mine is yours.”

His answer seems to ease her anxiety at least as she nods, kisses his cheek and starts to explore the rest of the jet. Roman’s eyes linger on her a bit before he switches his attention to his annoying ass head council.

Stomping down the steps with all of the agitation, he barks, “talk.”

Paul clears his throat, and Roman’s already regretting his decision to choose his Wise Man over his fine ass wife.

“Sir, I—I understand you wanting to take the girl—”

“Solana,” Roman corrects one time only. Because that was Paul’s one time referring to Solana as anything other than her name or his wife. “Her name is Solana.”

Paul swallows. “Of course.” He’s a quick learner, smartly running it back for a second, correct time. “I understand you wanting to take Solana away for her birthday, but is the timing really great? There’s so much work—”

“There’s always work to do, Wise Man. That’s why I delegated the appropriate tasks to cover the appropriate work while I’m gone.” It was a bit trickier than that as delegation has never been a preference for Roman. His ultimate preference is to always handle shit on his own. And truth be told, he made sure to sign off, approve, create, and orchestrate any major moves that needed to be done before leaving. The remaining tasks were split among Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi. And he has no doubt they’ll be on top of it. Because as always, when it comes to business, the twins never miss. It’s just any other time they’re bumbling idiots who give Roman migraines from time to time.

“Of course. Always so conscientious, my Tribal Chief.” Paul’s smile makes Roman want to turn and walk away yet again for the second time in two minutes. Granted, that’s his usual disposition when interacting with anyone other than his wife. “I just—for you to be out of the country for almost a week. Well, it’s just—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s eyes light up, and it has nothing to do with the sun that’s shining in his direction. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“How long have I been the Tribal Chief?”

The answer is almost instantaneous, a small smile falling on Paul’s pudgy face. “Since you were eighteen-years-old.”

“How old am I now?”

“My Tribal Chief turned 39 on May 25th of this year.”

“And in all that time, how many vacations have I taken?”

There’s brief hesitation, eyes traveling for a brief second, searching for the answer. “N–none, my Tribal Chief.”

“Exactly.” Roman lifts his shades and sets them atop his head. “So, if I want to take a couple fucking days off to help my wife celebrate her birthday, then that’s what I’m gonna fucking do, and I don’t have to answer to a damn person about it. Because I feel like you’re questioning me, Wise Man, and I don’t get questioned. Is that understood?”

Paul’s fat cheeks are painted an ugly shade of red as he stammers out, “y–yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Semi pleased with the acquiescence, Roman turns around and calls out coldly, “only contact me for emergencies.”

Roman is almost certain Paul will be too scared shitless to risk his wrath with an outreach that’s only subjectively considered an emergency vs Roman’s definition. He’ll probably task Rikishi or the twins with the task.

Roman would prefer their old man over them. Less antics and constant triggers for his anger.

The head of the table finds his wife still in the main section of the jet, sitting down on the sofa, legs pulled up under her, phone in hand. Hearing his return, she smiles, sharing, “I was just texting Naomi to make sure she grabbed Dulce’s favorite toy.”

Roman chuckles and walks over, joining her on the sofa. “The dog has a favorite toy?”

Smiling, she explains, “it’s the one she plays with the most. Her avocado.” Solana angles her body so she’s facing him more versus the other sofa that lines the other side of the plane. “Do—do you think she’ll be okay? We’ve never left her before.”

To be fair, Roman briefly thought about that. She’s so fucking little and still a puppy, so leaving her could be risky. But, he also knows that damn thing seems to always be hopping on Naomi and Bayley’s lap, so she should be fine.

“She’ll probably sleep the majority of the time we’re gone.”

Solana rolls her pretty eyes, her mouth curving into a small smile. “I’m serious, Roman.”

“So am I.” He sighs and brings his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “She’ll be fine, Solana. It’s not like we left her with Jey and psycho ass Nicki with their bad ass kids.”

Forever the saint, she pouts and lightly scolds him. “That’s not nice. I’m sure they’re not bad.”

“You ain’t met them yet,” Roman scoffs. “Why you think Jey always at our place?”

Smiling cheekily, she gently points out, “you said it’s because I keep feeding them.”

“That too.” Roman trails his finger up and down her upper forearm, her soft skin a contrast to his coarse fingertips. Her perfume, something sweet, vanilla, and gourmand doesn’t help him keep focus on the conversation nor the fact that she’s so close to him, their bodies touching him. His desire for physical contact, of any kind, with her has been heightened a bit in recent days. “That’s why you don’t feed fucking strays. Cause they keep coming back.”

Solana peers up at him, giggling, “you’re so mean to them sometimes.” Shifting her position so that her legs are laid out the opposite side of Roman, her back pressed against his side. His big arm is over her chest, her hands on his forearm. “I think….I think you like them more than you let on.”

“Really?”

She nods, further explaining. “I don’t….I don’t think you would let them be as close to you as they are if you didn’t.”

Perceptive. Roman pegged that about Solana a while ago, when they first started writing, her previous preferred form of communication. She’s not entirely wrong. As fucking crazy Jimmy and Jey drive Roman, they’ve also been the two best and really only examples of friendships he has. Not to mention they’re family.

“They’re….tolerable.”

She looks up at him, asking almost nervously, “and what am I?”

Such a good question that’s both simple and complicated. The easy answer is his wife. That’s just fact. Law. But the complex answer, the complex answer is that she’s so much more than that. That she’s become so much more than that. Where Roman finds himself craving her presence. A rarity for someone who typically avoids and shies away from social interactions like the plague.

Dipping his head to kiss her forehead, he answers in a low, steady voice, “my Lo’u Au.”

Her eyes flutter shut a bit as she murmurs, “it’s not fair you say things to me you know I can’t understand.” Roman watches her once again move around, this time sliding one leg over so that she’s sitting on his lap, straddling him. He doesn’t hesitate in moving his hands to the bottom of her ass, lifting her so she’s closer to him, her breast nearly touching his chest. Solana tilts her head to the side, whispering, “Yo siento muy bien contigo.”

Having her like this, so close against him, it doesn’t help that resolve, doesn’t do shit about the fact that his dick stiffens whenever she touches him. Like she is now. His eyes dip to her lips, so soft and full. “And what does that mean?”

Solana also seems to be on the same wavelength, her eyes also dropping to his mouth as she whispers with a small smile. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”

Eyes shutting, Roman groans and tugs her even closer, her arms around his neck. “God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” Roman kisses her. Kisses her with all of the intensity and desire and borderline need he harbors for this woman.

And then she moans. She fucking moans in his mouth. His dick nearly fucking jerks as he stands up with her in his arms, Solana gasping and breaking the kiss to look around. “Roman….”

He needs to have his mouth on her, lips kissing the underline of her jaw as he brings them to the back of the jet, to the bed. He’s careful in how he lays her down, mindful of how she tugs on his shirt, pulling him on top of her and resuming their passionate kiss.

Roman’s hands roam her body, but he pays extra attention to her breast, so big and soft, pillow soft under his hand as he kneads them, mindful of the way her nipples continue to harden under his touch.

“Roman….” Solana is breathing heavily, once again breaking their kiss, something he would otherwise be objected to if not for the two tiny words that leave her mouth. “Touch me.”

His eyes widen a bit as he asks, almost unsure he heard her right. “What?”

Mouth parted, she licks her lips and again reiterates her previous request. “I—I want you to touch me.”

If not for not wanting to insult her intelligence, he’d remind her he is. He's touching her everywhere she’s previously admitted him access to. But, Roman would never do that nor is he stupid. He knows exactly what she’s referring to. And there’s suddenly a part of him that feels bad, wonders if she somehow thought that was the reason for him taking them to the bed. It wasn’t that. He just wanted privacy, wanted to give her that privacy.

“Solana, I wasn’t—”

“Roman,” she says his name again, firmer, more committed almost to her request. “I trust you.” Three words. Three little words that pack such a heavy, emotional punch. “You’re…you’re going to have to when we finally…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Pl—please.”

He shuts his eyes, jaw clenching. That one word alone coming from her is such a dangerous thing. Dangerous because it's incapable to say no to.

But, he doesn’t necessarily have to because her hand is on his, slowly moving it down from her breast, traveling down the span of her stomach and the top of her black pants. But instead of remaining there, Solana guides it under her waistband, her tour stopping when the palm of his hand presses softly on her mons pubis, still protected under the cotton of her underwear. Her eyes shut at this contact, but it’s when his fingers flitter near the space between her legs that she gasps.

His eyes snap to hers as he’s quick to ask, “do you want me to stop?”

And she’s immediately shaking her head ‘no,’ explain, “I’m just—not used to it.” She’s already so sensitive to his touch. Roman can’t even imagine what this level of sensitivity is going to look like when they go all the way. “It’s okay.” She’s again reassuring him, even spreading her thighs a bit, giving him better access.

Roman is hard as a fucking rock, but he taps into expert level self-control as he moves his other hand to her waistband, giving a slight tug. “Can I?”

She answers in a soft voice. “Yes.”

Solana lifts her hips as he slides her black pants down her shapely legs, his mouth practically watering to see and have so much of her soft skin exposed to him. He moves his hand to caress the skin of her inner thighs. She sighs, content, and this serves as more motivation to continue his efforts in following through on her task.

Again, he’s making sure to catch her gaze. “Do….”

And once again, she partially takes him by surprise as she closes her eyes and instead of giving him the approval to remove the only remaining article of clothing keeping her covered from him, Solana takes her fingers to her underwear and pushes down, lifting her hips slightly until they're hooked around her ankles and kicked onto the floor.

Mouth previously watering, Roman feels a sudden, intense amount of dehydration. She’s completely bare and exposed to him, her cunt so smooth and pretty, lips glistening already just from their makeout.

If not for her trauma, he’d have already had this woman more times than he could count.

But, he’d especially already had her in his mouth. Licking his lips, he does his best to keep composure, maintaining the maturity of a grown ass man vs a horny ass teenage boy whose balls haven’t even dropped.

Once more, he asks, “are you sure?”

It might be overkill to some, but one thing’s for certain, he would never go this far without gaining her consent every step of the way.

She answers, “yes.”

Roman nods, starting his hand at the top of her belly, gradually teasing it downward until he’s touching her, long fingers gently caressing her lips, the tips of his fingers gathering some of her essence. “How you already this wet for me?”

It’s more rhetorical than anything, but it’s partially fueled with how her stomach caves in a bit just at that initial touch. Her being so responsive to just his hands does wonders for his ego but also fuels his burning to just make her feel good.

Roman uses long, slow strokes along the areas of her vulva, never taking his eyes off her face, mouth dropping open, eyes slamming shut and head craning back. Pleasure. She feels pleasure. That’s what he wants to see. All he wants to see.

There’s not an ounce of discomfort in sight.

“Roman…” Her moaning his name might be his new favorite song. So needy and wanton. It’s got his erection fighting for its life in his boxers. “Shit….”

He smirks a bit. “Must be good if I got you cussing, baby.” It’s evident in the way she becomes swollen underneath his expert touch, eventually exposing her clit. And it’s then that he brings his thumb to her clit, pressing softly, satisfied when she arches against the bed. “That’s it….”

Such light touches, not a finger entered into her yet, and she’s already so wet. Largely due to sexual deprivation and being touch starved. Of that, he’s certain. To be almost thirty and have never been touched as such as a woman seems almost criminal. He wants to give it to her though. Give her that experience. Give her all of the experiences.

He works his thumb around her swollen clitoris, small circles, her growing wetness all the lube and slip he needs to work her good, in the way she deserves, in only how he can have her.

“Oh my god…” She’s starting to squirm against the bed, and he fucking loves it. Loves seeing how worked up he can get her. It makes the anticipation of actually being inside of her that much better. He plays around with different touches, different techniques, studying closely what seems to evoke the strongest physical reaction. A sort of a game, a way for him to learn her body, to learn what she likes. But also, for her to learn what she likes.

“You okay?” He checks in with her, seeing her nod ‘yes’ almost frantically. If not for the fact he can see speech is a bit difficult right now, he’d press her on actual words. But, he can extend some grace. “So fucking wet….” She’s a wet, soaking mess, pussy soaking his fingers, her thighs, and the bed under her. Not that he gives a flying fuck. Seeing her like this is better than he could have imagined, just a taste of what it’ll be like to be inside of her.

But, it’s when he teases a finger near her opening, so wet and sticky that he clenches his jaw. Just that slight probing, and he can already tell how tight she is, can imagine that tightness gripping the mess out of his dick.

Roman carefully enters one finger and observes the way she tenses, whimpers, the way her cunt clenches against him. “Relax….” He coaxes her, talks her through it, allows her to adjust to the unfamiliar stretch while his thumb continues to play with her clit, never once stopping her pleasure train.

And when she’s adjusted, he enters another finger, stopping there, not wanting to push her too far, recognizing how big this is for her. But when she shifts again, almost rocking against his fingers, Roman responds to her, moving in sync, staying along with her song and dance. He works with her, making the hitherto motion while his other fingers continue to rub and caress her into that higher room, that place of ecstasy.

Roman can see it coming, can see her coming, see the way she starts to grip the sheets, the biting of her bottom lip.

“I’m—I’m—”

“Ride it out, baby. Let me see how pretty you look when you come on my hand.” His words of affirmation seem to take her over the edge, damn near her entire upper half arching off the bed, her body writing as she gives into the bliss, staying on that train to euphoria.

Roman keeps his fingers inside of her just long enough to feel that fucking amazing sensation of making her come yet again, and he can’t help himself as he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting and licking off every bit of her. His eyes shut at her taste, just as fucking sweet as he imagined.

God, he can’t wait to have this woman.

Coming to, Solana sits up on her elbows a bit, looking down, becoming aware of just how messy things got. And she seems a bit embarrassed, offering what’s surely the start of an unnecessary apology. “I–oh my—I didn’t.”

Roman says nothing, just gets up and moves to the bathroom, grabbing a towel off the rack and bringing it to her. He’d clean her up himself, but he doesn’t necessarily trust himself to not try for take two.

Letting her handle it is the safest route, but he can work to dissuade any thought or feeling she might have that makes her think she did anything wrong.

“I’ll buy a new fucking mattress every damn day if it means I get to make you come like that.”

Solana has cleaned herself and the bed as best she can as she reaches to slide her underwear back on. Roman has to push away his disappointment. She has such a pretty pussy.

Her cheeks are red, partially because of what just occurred but also her naturally shy personality. “You’re really good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things, Solana.” He has every intention on eventually showing her just what those remaining things are, but time and place.

He’ll be as patient with her as she needs.

After Solana is all cleaned up, returned to a semi state of being adequately dressed, they fall into a sense of normalcy where she lays in bed, reading and writing a bit while he finishes up some work tasks on his laptop right beside her before she drifts off into a sleep that lasts longer than he was expecting.

He’s tempted to wake her when they start to descend, partially wanting her to look out the window at the clear, blue waters that he can admit are impressive looking. But, he decides against it, waiting until they’ve landed and are ready to exit the jet.

Gently shaking her shoulder, he stirs her, “Solana, wake up.” She does so relatively easily, pretty brown eyes blinking a little in confusion as he explains. “We made it.”

Those three words help bring her to a full state of consciousness. He smiles a bit seeing how she moves quicker than what’s probably necessary to get out of the bed and slide her shoes on, looking back at him and reaching for his hand.

Roman closes his laptop and does the same, taking her hand, guiding her out the jet. They’re both instantly met with an intense heat and radiating sun shining in their direction. They’re also met with the staff and security he made sure to have lined up and ready to go upon their arrival. He walks out first, watching and taking her hand again as she follows him, face turned up in expected confusion.

But, before she can ask anything, one of the men offers what may be a genuine smile. Not that Roman cares about that.

He flicks his gaze between the two of them. “Welcome to Isla Mujeres, Mr. and Mrs. Reigns….”

A loud gasp next to him is unsurprising, Solana almost spinning to look around, trying to process that she’s really standing on Mexican soil.

She eventually turns to him, eyes wide and then softening into something so warm and appreciative. “Roman…”

“It’s the only way I could get you to myself and away from my annoying ass cousins—” Once again, Roman is cut off by Solana throwing her body against his for a hug that results in him easily picking her up, her legs around his waist.. Similar to the embrace at the home library one. Emotional. Grateful. Happy.

She’s laughing a bit, even with tears burning her vision. “Thank you.”

Roman doesn’t correct her this time, just murmurs a ‘you’re welcome’ and kisses her temple. He lets her back down, hand moving to her ass. “You’re gonna have to translate while we’re here though.”

Solana shakes her head. Such a small thing in exchange for such a major act of kindness. “That’s fine.” She holds onto his arm as the staff move to take their bags from the jet while security directs them to the SUV.

Solana is looking out the window almost the entire ride, captivated by the scenery, the landscape, the beauty of it all while he’s just focused on the beauty sitting right beside him.

She asks the driver something in Spanish, the answer putting an even bigger smile on her face. She turns to him, asking, “how long are we here for?”

“A week,” Roman answers, noticing the way her eyes light up even more. “Still think we shouldn’t have come?”

She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves her body against his, grabbing his arm and laying her head against his shoulder. “I just….I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You could never inconvenience me. I do what I want. You know this.” His lips linger near her hairline. “And I wanted to do this for you.”

“Well, I’m appreciative. So much. You….you don’t know how much this means to me.”

He thinks he has an idea.

The ride from the airport to the house is approximately twenty minutes, and just like the moment Solana stepped foot off the jet, she’s got that same look of marvel painted all over her pretty place at the property.

Roman, meanwhile, is just satisfied the pictures didn’t lie. If anything, they didn’t do it justice.

She’s almost like a child on Christmas as she asks with excitement, “is this where we’re staying?” Before he can answer, she’s indirectly apologizing. “Roman, you didn’t have to spend so much money on this place. We’re only going to be here a week. We could have just—”

“I’m rich, Solana. I only do ownership.”

Her jaw drops again. “You bought this?” He nods. She scoffs, looking around, trying to process the fact that she’s technically standing on her property. “So….so we could come back?”

“I don’t know how often I could come with you, but you’re welcome to come and go as you please.” It goes without saying she’d have hefty security detail as well as either Bayley or Naomi attending, but beyond that, Roman could never see himself denying her this. Denying her the opportunity to connect more with her maternal side since the paternal side has only ever caused her nothing but heartache.

Here, there’s a chance to rewrite the chapter.

She walks over to him, holding onto his forearm, asking almost tentatively. “Can I look around the house?”

“How about we do this instead?” She looks genuinely curious as he explains. “If it’s regarding your safety, you ask. If not, you just do it.” Roman’s unsurprised by her unsure expression. “I don’t get to decide how you live your life. That’s all you.”

“Unless it could present a safety risk?”

“Exactly. Cause in that case, the answer is probably no.” A part of him dislikes having a caveat, but in the world they live in, with him being who he is, he can’t take any risks. He won’t take any risks. Not when it comes to her.

Ever.

Solana nods as if she understands better now. She slides her hand down, taking his with hers as she lightly tugs on his arm. “Come with me.”

It’s an easy request. There’s not much she could ask he’d say no to. If anything.

Solana is just as amazed by the inside of the house as the outside, especially the kitchen, the first thing she gravitates to. Naturally.

“We have to go shopping,” she shares. “So I can cook.”

“Solana, you’re not cooking while we’re here.” She frowns, a pout almost on her pretty face. “We’re celebrating your birthday. The fuck I look like you making you cook on something that’s supposed to be for you? I hired a chef for us.”

Her frown softens a bit as she lays her hand on his chest. “You’re not making me do anything. I—I like cooking. You know this.”

“I know you do, but I want you to relax and enjoy yourself while we’re here.” His hands move down to her ass. “Starting with the pool in the back.”

A small smile grows on her face. “There’s a pool?”

He nods, imagining that sexy body of hers clad in one of those skimpy two pieces he told Bayley and Naomi to make sure she purchased plenty of. “I told you. Half naked, baby.” She giggles as he squeezes her ass and lightly pushes on his chest, separating them.

“Where’s our bedroom?”

He has to think about it for a minute. “Down the hall. Should be the first or second room on the right.” Again, she grabs his hand, guiding them based upon his directions. Directions that prove correct, Solana once again taken back by the luxury of it all. The room is damn near bigger than some apartments and provides direct access to the back of the house which houses the pool and hot tub.

“This is all so beautiful…..”

“Hmmm.”

Solana briefly turns from looking out the door when two of the guards bring her and Roman’s luggage into the room. She thanks them, while Roman just seems to glare at them to get them to leave immediately, which they do.

Once alone, she turns to Roman, “can we—” He doesn’t even have to correct her. She does it all on her own. “I—I want to go see the beach.”

He smirks. Assertiveness looks damn good on her. “Then let’s go to the beach.”

________

Roman is both surprised and unsurprised when Solana walks out the bathroom, a cover up partially preventing him from seeing whatever bathing suit she picked. And his disappointment must show as she murmurs, “I’ll take it off when we get there.”

Feeling like it’ll help her feel a bit better, less self-conscious, he informs, “it’ll just be us. I had the beach….cleared, if you will.”

Obviously confused, she wonders aloud, “how….how do you clear a beach?” Solana gasps, lowering her voice as she asks in an almost scared tone. “Did you….did you kill anyone?”

“Not today. Not yet, at least.” The way her eyes widen a bit makes him chuckle. “I’m Roman Reigns, Solana.” He walks past her, adding with all of the arrogance that he can without a doubt back up, “I always get what I want.”

Solana says nothing. Not that she needs to say anything. However, she notices then what Roman was messing with on the bed before she walked out the bathroom. “What is this?” She walks over, reaching for but not touching the camera. “You bought a camera?”

“I’ve had that for years.”

Curious, she less asks and more makes a simple statement, sharing, “I didn’t know you were into photography.”

He shrugs, almost indifferent. Dismissive. “It’s an interest. Haven’t really done much of it in a while.”

“You should,” she encourages. Solana would love to see and support him embrace a side of him that isn’t so deeply embedded in his work that seems never ending. “Especially while we’re here. It’s all so beautiful…”

“I could photograph you and get the same result.”

She smiles, looking away while admitting, “I—I don’t really like having my picture taken.”

“Too bad.” She looks back at him, Roman explaining. “That’s also an insecurity thing. I told you. I’m not letting you feed your insecurities.”

A part of her is grateful for that, grateful for him. Appreciative that he always seems to remind her of these things that she still struggles to notice or believe about herself from time to time. Like the fact that she is beautiful.

“Okay,” she relents, partially knowing it’s not like Roman will give in anyway. “But…but you can’t show them to anyone.”

“Solana, I don’t like sharing you with anyone as it is. You really think I’m trying to share some pictures?” It’s a fair, valid point. “No, I won’t show them to anyone.”

Pleased with the acknowledgement, the two finish getting ready and are out the door in less than 20 minutes. Given the fact that the property is more or less on the water, they opt, more Solana, asks to walk versus driving. Roman isn’t opposed. The beach is cleared, security is roaming the property, not to mention it’s a beautiful day.

Plus, he enjoys intentionally lagging a bit behind to enjoy the jiggle of her ass as she walks ahead of him.

Truly a win-win for all.

The minute she steps foot onto the sand, enters onto the actual beach, there’s a bit of a shift. Nothing negative. The complete opposite. Roman can sense her emotion growing, the reality of finally being in her mom’s home country truly settling in.

He’s partially surprised by just how quickly she moves to the actual water, standing in the space where sand and ocean meet.

“My mom was right….” His gaze falls on her. “It’s so beautiful.” She steps forward a bit more, wind pushing the water closer as it grazes her feet. “I want to go in.” Another slight surprise, but not entirely. A part of the reason he’s been having her get in the pool was for this very moment, to lessen and minimize her fear so she could truly embrace this experience for all it can offer.

He nods but gestures to the camera bag. “Pictures first.”

She scowls a bit, and he chuckles, pulling the camera out. “Roman…”

“Non-negotiable, baby.” And she knows this, knows he’s not letting up when it comes to building her self-esteem and demolishing her body insecurity.

“Okay….” It feels a bit strange at first, posing as Roman snaps photos of her. She’s more than certain the first set of photos look just as awkward as she feels. But as time passes and with his encouragement and slight guidance, the awkwardness melts into something similar to relaxation. Her smile is a natural thing vs the result of being told to smile.

And even when he tells her to remove the cover up, there’s some level of apprehension about being photographed in her bathing suit, but there’s also a level of confidence and reassurance that it’s literally just the two of them.

Roman has her damn near posing like it’s a real photoshoot, and when all is said and done, she’s tugging on his arm as he puts the camera away. “Come with me.”

Solana is both surprised and thankful when he doesn’t push back on her request, doesn’t deny it. There’s an obvious level of disinterest, but it’s nothing compared to his desire to make her happy.

And in the beautiful ocean water that brushes past in little ripples and slight waves against her shoulder, holding onto her strong, handsome husband who seems to look at her like she set all the stars in the sky, she feels just that:

Happy

________

Solana is unsure just how long they spend at the beach. Long enough that by the time they return to the house, the chef he hired for them, an older, kind woman named Maria, has dinner just about ready to serve. And it’s exactly when they finish showering and cleaning up, the plate of delicious food is laid on the table, ready to devour.

It’s a bit of a different yet pleasant experience being able to have dinner with her husband. More often than not, he has to take it in his office due to his volume of work. So having him across from her, being able to talk with him while they indulge in Pozole is a kind of happiness she could get used to.

But, it’s later that evening when they lay in the bed, Solana’s body sprawled on top of his much bigger one, Roman’s hand under her pajama shirt rubbing her skin, that something comes over her. A desire to unload something that’s been oscillating in the back of her head, no matter how many times she tries to push it away.

“I feel bad.”

He doesn’t look down, just asks her calmly, “about?”

Solana licks her lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt him that badly.”

Roman had a feeling that’s what she was referring to, but he didn’t want it to be true. “Solana—”

“I know. I know I defended myself, but….” She tries to word it as best she can, though she also knows there’s little to no way Roman will abandon his ardent belief that Wes got exactly what he deserved. “I keep thinking about my mom and how….she always reminded me that at the end of the day, Wes is my brother, and a lot of his behavior was because of my dad.”

Roman does his best to keep his voice leveled, to keep out the unsettled anger he holds and will always hold against her piece of shit sibling. He doesn’t want her to think any level of that anger is directed toward her. “You were kids then, Solana. Sure, Xavier probably said and influenced a lot of things, but your brother isn’t a child anymore. He’s a grown man. There’s no excuse for the things he’s said and done to you.”

None whatso–fucking—ever.

And Solana knows that, hence her expressing agreement. “I know you’re right.” Her voice drops a bit, paving way for more vulnerability. “I just….I was so angry that night, and…and I’m not an angry person. I—I don’t like that.” Before he can continue his work to take away her unrequited feelings, she asks almost over a whisper, “what does it feel like to kill someone?”

Her question takes him back a bit, but he knows why she’s asking, where it’s coming from.

“Solana—”

She sits up, looking down at him, eyes watering. “If he dies….”

He brings his hand to her cheek, comforting her, “he won’t. That bastard isn’t allowed to die. Not unless it’s by my hand.”

Roman has ensured Wes has the best medical care money can provide solely for the fact that while his beating was well-deserved, it’s paltry compared to all of the ways Roman wants to make that bastard suffer before he encounters the fiery gates of hell.

Xavier as well.

She shakes her head, sniffling, “I don’t—I can’t live with knowing I took someone’s life. I—” Her voice cracks. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he vows. Anyone who would ever need to cease to exist because they’ve wronged her in some way, he would handle. He will handle. Because he agrees. Solana is a pure soul. Despite all of the evil surrounding and done to her, she’s retained her kind heart and gentle spirit. Killing someone, taking another life, destroys that, forever pollutes the soul in a way that’s irreversible.

Roman would die before he let that happen to her.

But the topic of this conversation, it brings something else up for Solana. Something that literally shatters her spirit to think about, let alone verbalize aloud. But, she has to tell him, can’t keep it to herself any longer. It’s not fair to him with how good he’s been to her.

She loves him too much to continue to lie to him.

“Roman…” Her throat suddenly feels so dry, stomach weighed down by a slate of concrete. “There’s something I—”

“Shhhh.” He sits up, bringing his other hand to her cheek, fully cupping her face. “Tomorrow is your birthday, Solana. You don’t need to be this upset.” He again brushes away her tears, gently adding, “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Her eyes shut. He has no idea the increased emotion is for an entirely different reason. “But—”

Roman seems keen on not allowing the conversation to continue, solely because he dislikes how troubled she’s getting. Sees it as unfair. “It’s gonna be fine.” He then asks, “you trust me, don’t you?” She nods softly. That’s given at this point. There’s no one she trusts more than Roman Reigns. “Then trust I’ve got this.”

Her eyes shut, as she tries to listen and marinate on his words. Her husband is adept at remaining calm and being prepared for any and everything. She…she has to trust that for right now. Trust him.

Has to table this conversation. For now.

Roman guides her to lay back down on his chest, Solana snuggling against him. “I’ve got you, Sol.” Her heart nearly bursts at that, at the nickname she hasn’t been called in years. The name her mother often referred to her as. Her eyes shut, stomach settling, emotions subsiding in the way only Roman seems capable of orchestrating. “Always.”

________

The first thing Solana notices when she wakes up the next morning is the noticeable empty space besides her. The space where Roman should be sleeping, his muscular arm around her body, holding her against him.

Instead, she awakes on her back, alone, with no Roman in sight.

She frowns for a few seconds, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes. The sadness shifts away just as soon as it appeared. Solana knows he must either be in the gym or doing something for work. There’s very little concern that he’s ventured far.

It’s why she grabs her phone off the nightstand only to find a plethora of birthday texts and an attached photo of Dulce in the group chat with her, Naomi, Bayley, Jimmy, and Jey.

Bayley: Happy birthday, friend! Roman’s ass better be treating you like the queen you are! 💙 Love you so much and can’t wait until you get back so we can fuck up some more trucks together! 😜

Naomi: What Bayley said! Happy freaking birthday, Solana! Even if you wanted to, you ain’t getting rid of us. Sisters for life! 💚

Jey: Happy birthday, lil sis! Make sure you take lots of pics of Free Willy over there!

Jimmy: Man, you dumb asf. They supposed to look at dolphins! Not sharks! Free Willy was a shark!

Jimmy: Happy birthday, sis!

Naomi: Solana, you can feel absolutely feel free to mute this chat until you return. 😐

Bayley: Or forever.

There’s a myriad of emotions coursing through her. So much happiness. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey. A family. They’ve become her family.

It brings tears to her eyes and keeps her in bed a couple minutes longer as she basks in the kind words and love.

It also keys her into just what Roman has planned for her big day. That brings on an additional layer of emotionality. He’s so so good to her.

Solana: Thank you, guys. You all have no idea what you mean to me. 🥺♥️

Placing her phone on the nightstand, she finally climbs out of bed and into the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth, and wash her face. She decides against placing the robe over her pajamas. An unnecessary thing considering Roman’s seen just about all of her at this point.

It'll make telling or asking him the realization she’s come to just a tad bit easier.

Out the bathroom and down the steps, sure enough, she finds him, burly body plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, Maria working away to prepare what’s probably a more than necessary, grand breakfast.

Roman’s hearing and peripheral vision is expert level, because she’s barely in the kitchen when he lifts his gaze from the open laptop in front of him and sets his sights on her. One finger beckons her in his direction. An unnecessary thing considering that’s exactly where she was already headed.

Solana is easily guided onto his lap, Roman taking index finger under her chin for a kiss that’s so soft compared to his typically rough demeanor. She smiles. “Good morning….”

He chuckles. “Morning.” His hand moves to her cheek, “happy birthday.”

Heart filled, she lays her head against his shoulder, intentionally not looking at the computer in the event it’s private but still asks. “What are you doing?”

He instead motions for her to do just that. “Look.”

She does, and instantly she’s burying her face back into him. “Roman, I hate looking at pictures of myself.” Because that’s what’s on his screen, one of the photos he took of them at the beach yesterday.

“Too bad, cause that might be one of my new favorite things.” She smiles yet again, a given whenever she’s around him. Solana also finds herself forcing her attention back to the screen, reaching to click through the photos, most of her, which is uncomfortable but still bearable. However, her attention is mostly drawn to the ones not of her, of the beach and nature and scenery that he took.

“These are so good.” She finds herself complimenting him, because it’s true. Added to the long list of things Roman is exceptionally good at is photography. She teases him a little. “You should photograph more.”

He scoffs, an almost bitter tone to his voice. Not directed at her, of course. “When?”

She shrugs. “I—I don’t know, but we can figure it out. If…if you like to do it, then you should do it.” And just like that, she’s determined to help him figure out just that. It’s the least she can do for him.

Truly.

Noticing Maria multitasking, Solana calls out and asks, “Maria, do you need any help?”

The older woman gasps dramatically and waves away the offer as if it was an insult. “Nonsense, child. It is your birthday. You must rest and let that handsome husband of yours treat you.”

Solana laughs a bit.

Roman asks, “what did she say?”

“I asked her if she needs any help, and she basically told me I don’t get to do any of that cause it’s my birthday.”

“Damn straight,’ Solana giggles as he moves his hand to her hip. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Being honest, she dances her fingers up his arm, teasing almost, “I know where we’re going….”

Roman gives her one of those infamous smirks which quickly drops when he realizes something. “Which one was it? Dumb or Dumber?”

Giggling, she hands him her phone, opening the group chat and showing him the messages.

His eyes rake over the words, and Solana has to bite back her laugh at the absolute irritated expression painted on his handsome face when he’s done. “Even hundred fucking miles away, they ruin shit.”

She kisses his cheek, wanting to calm him down. “It’s okay.” Solana suddenly asks. “Are you gonna do it with me?”

He gives her a look. “That’s for you, Sol. Not me.”

She pouts a little, gently reminding him, “but…it can be for the both of us.”

“Swimming with Dolphins screams you. Not me.” He adds on with an almost scowl and shake of his head. “I’m too old for that shit.” Curious, he switches the topic a bit, asking, “does our age difference bother you?”

“I never really thought of it,” she answers, honestly. Roman being older than her truly has never been anything she’s considered to be an issue. At the beginning of this whole arrangement, she had a slate of other much more relevant reasons to be cautious and wary. All of those reasons almost making her laugh a bit because they’re so far away from the truth. “So, no.” She shrugs, adding. “I—I never really had good luck with guys my age anyway.” Or, at all, really. “Besides….” She chews on her bottom lip, coyly starting off a leading sentence, “there’s nothing about you that bothers me….except—”

Roman is every bit as eager as he looks for the rest. “Except?”

She bats her eyelashes, almost intentionally trying to butter him up. “If you could be a little nicer to your cousins….”

“Baby, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” He once again reiterates what, in his mind, should be painfully obvious. “I’m not a nice person.”

“But you are,” she stresses, fingers moving through his beard. “You are to me.”

“It’s different with you, Solana.” He’s not necessarily in the space to explain just how it’s different, but it is. She’s in a category all on her own. “Look….do my cousins piss me off at least 8 times a day? Yes. Do I have thoughts of homicide regarding them at least once a day? Sure. But….” He blows out a breath. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids. They’re family. I would die for them just as quickly as I know they would die for me.”

While she understands his point and is grateful for his level of openness and vulnerability, Roman and death in the same sentence brings out an almost physical reaction on her part.

That’s not even something she can tolerate thinking about.

She would lose her fucking mind if something were to ever happen to him.

Solana is desperate to change the subject, needing something, literally anything, other than Roman dying to think about. “I….I know what I want you to give me for my birthday.”

His brow lifts as he asks with a bit of attitude. “You planning on telling me, considering it’s here?”

She smiles softly, finger trailing down his face. “Later….” Solana climbs off his lap, rubbing her stomach. “Right now, I just want to eat breakfast with my husband.”

________

It’s called Dolphin Discovery. The activity Roman has planned for the morning of her birthday, and it consists of exactly what the title implies as well as what Jimmy and Jey unintentionally spoiled for her.

Not that that’s a big deal, per se.

It doesn’t dim her excitement. The way her smile is painted on her face at the private event Roman arranged for just them, the only other people are the staff and instructors who guide the event.

Solana is even able to convince Roman to join her for a short period of time in the water, granted he looks irritated and uninterested the entire time. Still, she knows his focus and priority is just making sure she has a nice time.

And she does.

It’s full of smiles and laughter.

Just as the rest of the day as Solana asks to go to the beach after, fully enamored with the crystal clear water and beauty that is the island of las mujeres. Of course, this comes with the almost stipulation from Roman that he has to photograph her again.

She’s less uncomfortable this time around, posing for his photos without as much reservation. The decreased inhibitions largely due to her overall happiness. Solana hasn’t felt so great, so in love with life for a very long time.

If ever.

But, she’s even more touched when Roman guides them back to the beach later that evening what’s a private dinner for just the two of them.

“Roman….” She can’t help to take in the beautiful set up as he pulls out the seat for her. “This is so beautiful….”

He takes her in as he sits opposite of her, the way her dress hugs her so beautifully, the soft set of her eyes as she continues to marvel, smiling so genuinely at the setup. “Very…”

She brings her attention back onto him, reminding, “Roman, you really….you really didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been just as happy back home with you.”

“That’s too boring.” He dismisses, reaching across the table for her hand. “Too close to people. I wanted you to myself.”

She smiles, teasing him a bit. “Is that why it’s just been mostly you and me so far?”

“Damn straight.”

She giggles, head tilted as she turns his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm. “Me haces muy feliz….”

His eyes squint with intrigue. “You’re really going to make me learn Spanish, aren’t you?”

“No,” she answers softly, focused on her gesture with his hand. “I’m…I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.”

“Which is?”

Her eyes lift to his, locking intensely. “How much I care about you.”

How much I love you.

That part…..that he doesn’t know. Or maybe he does. Solana knows she wears her heart on her sleeve to a certain extent. Knows how perceptive her husband is. But, if he has noticed, he hasn’t said anything. And she’s partially grateful for that, because acknowledging her love for him, internally anyway, is something that she’s okay with. Something she doesn’t really question.

She can’t say the same for him.

Love and Roman have a complicated history she can’t even begin to truly understand. It may not be something he feels capable of anymore, not after the kind of loss he experienced. And she can understand that. She’s okay with that. Because the way he treats her, the way he makes her feel, the happiness he brings her….it’s more than enough.

It’s all she needs.

The dinner itself is just as wonderful as any other meal they’ve had the past two days, but what Solana mostly enjoys is the conversation. Being able to talk to and with Roman has easily become one of her favorite things. Their conversation never goes stale, and even when she worries she’s annoying him, he keeps it going.

He truly is becoming one of her best friends. Not in the same way Naomi and Bayley have. Something different, something deeper almost. Still as appreciated.

And it’s when the dinner comes to a close, Solana is once again taken back by Roman’s nearly limitless generosity when he gifts her a set of bracelets, Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and other luxury brands she’s certain the combination of cost equalling what some people pay for homes let alone jewelry.

The depth of his kindness toward her will never cease to amaze her.

Back at the house, she has a bit of a hard time getting him to use the shower in the master bedroom vs using the one down the hall. She comes up with a weak excuse regarding shower design preference, and while she’s certain he doesn’t believe her one bit, he lets it go.

And Solana is utterly grateful, because she needs to be completely separated in order to prepare for the thing she’s wanted and thought about since last night, since she decided it’s truly what she wants.

Everything he’s done thus far has been more than thoughtful, but this….this is something on an entirely different level.

She’s just stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around her body when a random thought about what tonight could and most likely will entail flashes in her mind.

Solana closes her eyes and tries to ignore the aching between her legs, even if she knows it’s a fruitless effort.

Roman has been an absolute saint, patient beyond belief with her and this gradual process of working up to being intimate. Always checking in with her every step of the way.

But…..but lately, she finds herself….thinking about him in….different ways. Wondering what it would be like to finally go all the way. To be with him fully in that way.

Ways she previously couldn’t allow herself to think about. Too hindered by the memories of her trauma.

Yet with him, it’s something unlike what she’s used to. Her chest doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode, and she doesn’t find herself panicking, needing to push him away from her, to not have any hands on her because they all feel the same, the same as her rapists.

With Roman…..that’s not her story. It’s just him she sees, feels, wants.

By the time she’s done with her shower, Solana has to reach across the bathroom counter to wipe her hand across the fogged mirror. She hits the switch for the vent and digs through her toiletries bag for the essentials and gets into her routine, focusing way too much on what she’s doing to avoid the thought sitting impatiently in the back of her head.

But, it’s when she’s reached the end of her routine and goes to grab her bra and panties she had sitting on the counter, that she pauses.

Scared.

Solana realizes that’s one of the dominant emotions she’s struggling with. She’s scared to go for what she wants. It’s a tale as old as time. Fear is always the thing that holds us back the most, that keeps us from reaching goals, attaining desires, being freed.

For so long, she believed that she was damaged. That the trauma of her past made it impossible for her to ever have a healthy sexual relationship with another person. But Roman has changed that. He’s changed her life in so many ways, and now, she is presented with the chance and opportunity to take back her power, to reclaim her sexuality.

And now….she’s ready to do just that.

Solana slowly retracts her hand and instead slides her pink, silk gown over her head, ignoring the almost strange feeling of having nothing underneath her dress. Solana keeps staring at her reflection, mentally going over everything: floss, mouthwash, deodorant, lotion, perfume on all of her pulse points.

When she realizes that she’s only stalling, she forces herself to leave the bathroom. Solana makes her way down the hall and into the master. She’s relieved to see he’s still in the bathroom and decides to sit and wait on the edge of the bed. Similar to how her nerves are on edge. In the bathroom, the pep talk was more motivating and inspiring. Now, in this space, her anxiety is doing those damn flips again.

“Solana?” Her head lifts and she stands up. Roman is standing near the bathroom door, shirtless, gray sweats hanging dangerously low, his hair down. Solana watches his gaze darken, slowly taking in her immodest state, focusing on the clear outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material. “What are you—”

She says nothing and instead grabs his hand, leading him to the bed. She switches their positions and guides him to sit on the end of the bed as she straddles him, her legs on either side of him. Solana refuses to think about the possible exposure from this position and instead focuses on him.

“I want you,” is all she says, quiet but sure. “I want you for my birthday.”

His face reads a mixture of emotions, primarily confusion.

And lust.

“Solana….” He seems to want to move his hands to her waist but hesitates. “I didn’t….that’s not why I brought you here. I would never pressure you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, softly. “You’ve always let me set the pace, so….so let me set it now.” She brings her hands to his face, looking him dead in the eye as she repeats, “What I want for my birthday….is you.” A fleeting thought creeps across her mind when she adds, “unless….unless you don’t want me th—”

Roman switches their positions so quickly that she can barely process what’s happening until she’s flat on her back with him hovering above her. His eyes are fluttering as he works to settle himself, breathing out, “I’ve always wanted you, baby. Just needed you to tell me when.”

She licks her lips and lightly glides her fingers over his abs. He’s so firm. “And now?”

“Now?” Roman moves his hand to her knees, slowly prying them apart. She breathes in as he starts to move his fingers up the inside of her legs. “After tonight, ain’t nobody else gon’ have you like this,” his thumb brushes over her inner thigh and she grabs his bicep. “Feel you like this,” Solana’s head goes back into the bed when he glosses his fingers over her apex. “Or taste you like this but me.” Their gazes lock. “Understood? You’re mine.”

His tone is commanding and authoritative. She can mumble a quiet ‘yes’ in agreement when his head drops between the crook of her neck, his hair fanning her face, pulling his hand from between her legs. “Promise me you’ll tell me if we need to stop.”

She gently caresses the back of his neck, reassuring him. “Roman, I’m fin—”

“Solana,” he interrupts. There’s no denying or questioning of the seriousness in his tone of voice. “Promise me.”

She nods and rakes her fingers over his scalp. “I promise.”

Roman is visibly pleased by this, eyes raking over her body. “Good.” He lowers his lips to hers, hands moving to explore her body. “So fucking pretty….”

The light kiss easily progresses into something more intense, something deeper, something that has her feeling so flustered and warm all over. His pants are quickly discarded, leaving him in boxers only. Roman continues to massage and knead her breast, along with the palming of her ass yet still makes active efforts to receive consent, always checking her comfort levels.

Initiating this is major.

Her lips are nice and swollen when he starts kissing around her face before grabbing her hand and turning it over. Two long fingers press against her wrist.

He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, prompting her to ask, “what are you—”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s not a second of hesitation or delay. “Of course.”

“I need to relax you more.” With his free hand, his thumb flicks over her nipple as he explains, just as tender as every other thing he’s done to maintain her comfort. “You’re still tensing a bit under me, and the more tense you are, the more it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

Swallowing, she replies back in the same soft tone. “You could never hurt me, Roman.” His eyes flash with something almost soft. Like affection. Like something deeper. “But…I understand. What…what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to do anything. Tonight is about you.” Her eyes flutter shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, speaking against her soft skin. “Just want you to let me take care of you…” And it’s as he continues to travel down her body, tugging at her dress as much as he can to press a trail of kisses between the valley of her breast, and halting near her covered belly button that she understands what he’s asking her.

And suddenly her cheeks are on fire. Solana isn’t entirely naive. She knows that plenty of people engage in oral sex, but she’s also heard a lot of men prefer not to. Prefer to receive rather than give. “I…..you….you don’t have to—”

“Solana, I’ve wanted to taste you since the first day I met you.” His words, dark and dripping with need make her bite down on her bottom lip as his finger trails along her inner thigh. “Will you let me?”

She’s insecure and a shade of unsure for reasons entirely unrelated to her trauma. Maybe there’s some influence there, but it’s primarily the intimacy of it all. But, she then realizes he’s eventually going to be inside of her before the night ends, so his mouth being on her most intimate area….isn’t really a major difference.

Swallowing, she answers, voice catching for a second with a need she didn’t recognize until this moment. “Y–yes.”

His eyes light with desire, but he doesn’t miss a beat in reminding her yet again that she’s fully in control tonight. “Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you. Alright?”

Solana nods. “O–okay.”

Roman kisses her stomach and wastes no time in helping her remove her dress, leaving her fully exposed to him, physically and emotionally. Slowly, he pries her thighs apart, seeing how she bites on her bottom lip when he teases a finger against her.

“Still so sensitive…..” There’s a level of intrigue there, Solana watching Roman push his hair back, his tongue exiting his mouth and wetting his lips. “You’ll get used to me.”

She’s not sure she could ever get used to a man like Roman, and the minute his tongue flattens against her there, she’s almost certain she’ll never get used to that.

“Oh my god.”

He looks up at her, Solana suppressing a moan at the sight of his big body between the space of her thighs, mouth curved into a wry smile. “I barely touched you, baby….”

That doesn’t stop the fire coursing through her body.

“You want me to stop?” A frantic shaking of her head to signify a hell no is all he needs. He’ll settle for no verbal acknowledgement this time. “Good.” Salona gasps as he hooks the back of her knees over his big shoulders. “Now lay back and let me take care of you...”

It seems like all Roman has done is take care of her, but this is a new level of care, one that has her scratching and gripping helplessly at the sheets as he licks at her one, two, three times before his tongue darts around and plays with her in a way that makes her stomach tangled and twisted.

Solana whimpers when he starts sucking on her clit. “Fuck being inside you, just let me stay with this sweet pussy in my mouth.”

For a second, she considers it, because the way he laps and sucks on her has her brain practically fried trying to comprehend how just his tongue alone can have her nearly worming off the bed.

His big, strong hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he never once lifts his head for air.

“Roman…..”

“You taste better than I imagined.” She swears she feels him kiss her slick folds. “Gonna have you sit on my face the next time….”

The terror at that thought is short lived and stomped upon by his hands traveling up her body, gripping her breast, squeezing just enough to make her moan yet again, head pressed back into the pillow.

His name slips out her mouth for what feels like the 20th time as she moves her hands on top of his, stomach arching, pussy pressing further against his mouth. He makes a sound down there, but sound isn’t the focus when all of her most sensitive nerve endings are being so beautifully catered to.

But then it becomes too much, Roman switching to a lethal combination that includes sucking on her clit while two fingers enter inside her. It has her nearly jumping off the bed, unintentionally inching away from him.

Roman hums against her lifting up only to warn, “stop running from me, baby.” He’s playing with the mess she’s made, essence practically dripping from his beard. “This pussy is too good to not indulge myself.”

And before she can protest, can try to find some words to string together, he’s back in between her legs, and Solana finds her hands moving to the top of his hand. She can’t tell if she wants to just shove him away or shove him closer.

A strange yet wonderful dichotomy.

There’s no telling how long he’s down there, feasting so eagerly on her like he’s been waiting on this. Like, he’s been yearning for this. The same way Solana is starting to realize she too unintentionally wanted this. Wanted to know what it could and does feel like to be intimate, to have those normal, sexual needs met. It was just all hidden and obscured behind a dense wall of trauma the same man bringing her to heaven has helped her dismantle.

She owes him so much.

Especially for the way he gives her an orgasm that has her wanting to scream his name loud enough for anyone within 100 miles to hear. That just might have been the case too if she didn’t press her lips together as she rode out her orgasm, Roman still remaining between her thighs as he helps her through it, letting her ride out her pleasure still against his greedy mouth.

He seems so hungry for her.

When he finally makes his way up, presses his lips against her, Solana moans at the taste of herself on his mouth. He smirks against her lips.

“I told you I’m good at a lot of things..”

She smiles, her eyes blinking. “Roman, I—I’m ready.”

He doesn’t look surprised, but he does look hesitant. “Solana….”

“This is what I want. I—I want to be with you….fully.” Even as the words leave her mouth, the aftershock of her orgasm still trying to subside, she’s nervous. She’s nervous because there will always be that small voice in the back of her head telling her she shouldn't, that she can’t, that sex has been forever ruined for her.

But, it’s almost as if just looking at Roman, at feeling his desire and care for her, it snuffs those voices out, locks them in a closet with a key that he’ll make sure is never found. “I—I want you inside me.”

And there’s something either about that or the way she words it that seems to trigger the okay switch for him. He gently traces the outline of her lips. “We’ll take it slow.”

She nods as he brings his fingers to her wrist again. Her pulse. She realizes he’s checking for her pulse, trying to gauge her heart rate, assessing for any spiked anxiety.

“You’re relaxed, but…it still might hurt at first.”

“I know,” she murmurs, heat rising to her cheeks as she explains so simply yet accurately. “It’s…it’s because you’re big.”

Roman smiles, and that alone chips away a chunk of her anxiety. His smile is so beautiful.

It’s not missed upon her, however, that he doesn’t deny it. Not that he can. She’s heard enough, felt enough, even seen enough to some extent to know that he is very much an overall big man. And yet there’s not a damn thing about him that she finds intimidating, that she’s scared of.

His strength doesn’t scare her. Not anymore.

Just makes her feel safe.

Solana feels him shift atop her, but she doesn’t remove her gaze from the vaulted ceiling above them. He’s most likely removing his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating that part of him from that part of her.

She tries to lower her eyes down between their heated bodies, partially wanting to see him for herself, to see what’s about to enter her when Roman brings his hand under her chin, forcing her gaze back onto him. “It’s just you and me….okay?”

Her eyes flutter closed for a second as she nods, opening and breathing back, “you and me…”

Roman lowers his mouth back onto hers, taking her for a slow sensual kiss that’s timed perfectly with the exact moment the thick tip of his dick gradually descends into her tight, wet opening. Solana gasps into his mouth, taken back by the stretch of him, a slight burning sensation that’s eased by the way he kisses her jawline, asking if she wants him to stop.

The answer is easy.

“N–no. I’m fine.” She murmurs, grabbing him by his face and kissing him again, utilizing the talent of his mouth on hers to blur away the borderline discomfort of his initial entry. Roman is certainly well endowed and an initial level of pain is to be expected, both from his size and her experience. But, she needs his kisses to keep her from gravitating to that other painful experience, to keep her from getting triggered.

And something tells her that he knows as much without her needing to say anything. He’s consistent and dedicated in keeping his mouth on hers, his tongue raking across her bottom lip before he enters in yet another part of her. She does her best to keep up with him, to match his passion, but deep pants often break their rhythm as he continues to sink into her. He feels so deep, and he’s not even all the way in.

And when she’s moaning and groaning at the newfound stretch of him, his voice is in her ear apologizing, asking again if she wants him to stop. The answer is the same as before. Just worded differently.

“I want all of you.”

The good. The bad. It doesn’t matter. She just wants him.

Roman is the one to groan this time, resting his forehead against hers, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

Once finally and fully seated in her, Solana is grateful that he gives her a second to breathe, to adjust to this new sensation. Still uncomfortable, the fullness in such a sensitive area, but also comforted by Roman, by his constant attempts to assess her comfort levels. It’s why after a few minutes she glides her hands up his arms and encourages him to continue. “M–move.”

He’s studying her, like he’s done at every point throughout this process. “Are you sure?”

She nods and quickly remembers his one rule. “Yes.”

Though her eyes are closed, Solana can feel Roman’s gaze burning into her as he shifts his hips, the thickness of him slowly sliding out of her, lessening that fullness only to slowly re-enter, bringing it right back. He keeps this pace, slow and gradual, working her as gently as he can, never not watching for any sign of distress.

And it’s at some point that burning sensation washes away into something unfamiliar but desirable. It morphs into a form of pleasure that has her head slipping back against the pillow, her stomach starting to cave under his expert thrusts. His name falls out her mouth in the form of a breathy moan. “Roman….”

“Does that feel good?” She cries out as he kisses her shoulder, hand kneading her breast. “Tell me what feels good.”

The answer is easy, “everything.” And she means it, there’s not a trace of pain she can identify as she moves her hands up his muscular back as he switches up his pace, quicker but deeper thrusts that have her nails digging into his taut skin. “Oh….”

His head drops down in the crook of his neck. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” His hands drop to her hips, pulling her up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Could stay inside of you like this for hours….”

Solana chews down on her bottom lip, back arching as he adjusts his hips, reaching her even deeper, hitting another sensitive spot that has her eyes watering. “Roman.”

“That’s it. Say my name, baby.” And she does, again and again, his name a song on her lips that’s sweet music he wants to keep on repeat for the rest of his life. “You don’t know what you do to me, Solana.”

Whatever it is can’t be as good as he’s making her feel. Solana could scream from the absolute rapture he’s bringing her body, elevating her to places unseen and almost too good to be real.

“Te quiero mucho.”

He has no idea what she just said, but he has no doubt it’s an expression of bliss, and it only encourages him to dive deeper, to rut into her a little harder. Her pleasure is the roof, but that’s a limitation. He doesn’t do limitations.

He wants to never stop hearing his name leave her mouth, breathy and wanton. She’s a mess underneath him, wet ass pussy gushy, gripping the shit out of him like he’s never experienced. It actually takes a bit of effort on his his part to not come before she does, a arduous task considering she’s never looked more fucking beautiful being underneath him like this, every little facial expression making his dick pulse inside of her.

Roman has always heard people say sex is even better when it’s someone you actually care about. He never believed that shit. He never believed that shit until now. Because he’s never felt something, never felt someone, as good as what Solana feels right now.

If not for her trauma, wouldn’t nobody be getting any sleep tonight. He’d stay in this pussy, have it in his mouth, have it in any and all ways until the wee hours of the morning. Sleep be damned.

But, this isn’t about him. It’s about her. It’s all about her, and he’ll do whatever she wants, whatever she needs. Even if selfishly, he’s working to prolong her climax just as much for his pleasure as hers.

He doesn’t ever want to pull out.

And maybe it’s also the fact that he’s never been with anyone else raw. Never had that skin to skin experience, feeling slick pussy directly against his hardened dick.

Possibly.

Regardless, after tonight, if it’s not Solana, he doesn’t want it.

Her pussy is premier and just for him.

But, it’s when he takes a brief pause, to switch their positions, situating her on top of him, he sees the nervousness wreck her beautiful face.

“Roman. I—I don’t—I don’t know how–” And it’s as she protests, as she tries to explain to him she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to please him like that, Roman brings his hands to her hips, tugging her forward just enough for her mouth to drop open from the friction, from the way he presses into her, hitting yet another spot that has her eyes nearly watering all over again. “Oh my….”

His eyes are blazed with desire and yearning as he encourages her. “That’s it…..” Her eyes shut, the sound of him asking, “are you okay?” an almost distant thing, an almost inconceivable question. Everything about everything he’s done to and for her has felt more than okay. It’s felt heavenly.

The same way her hands naturally plant against his chest, less of him directing her movements and more of her riding him from her own volition.

The tips given to her by Bayley and Naomi just weeks prior return to the forefront of her mind, and Solana finds herself moving her hips, grinding on top of him as if she was spelling her name.

And almost instantly, Roman’s eyes are shutting too as he sings all of her praises, “fuck, just like that baby.”

She moves against him, riding him with a growing intensity that’s only matched by the level of desire on both of their ends. It feels fucking ethereal.

And when he can sense the pending fatigue in her body, Roman sits up, hands moving down her smooth back to her hips and guides her body against him, hitting her spot even deeper, Solana’s cries of pleasure a continuing symphony of bliss.

“You feel me, baby? Feel me in you like this?” Her head drops against his shoulder as she holds onto him, their bare, slick chests pressed against each other.

She whimpers against him, “god, yes.”

“I told you I would make you feel good, didn’t I, sweetheart?” She nods frantically only to cry out yet again when he glides his hand down and peppers his thumb over her swollen clit. “Gonna take care of you every single time. I don’t care how or where. You want it, imma give it to you.”

His voice takes on a darker tone, reminiscent of his reputation, a testament of the depth of his feelings for her. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” She gasps against him, yet another wave of pleasure shooting through her core. “Burn this whole fuckin’ world down….”

There’s something about his words, about his dedication to her, to keeping her safe. To keeping her with him. She lifts her head and brings her hands to his cheeks, making him lock gazes with her. “No one could ever take me from you.”

Roman just looks at her.

Something happens. A shift. A move. A disturbance of some sort. It’s as if something snaps in half the minute his eyes lock onto hers. He doesn’t move, and neither does she. No one says anything. It almost feels like no one is breathing. Her gaze on him is just as his is on hers. Deep. There’s something happening at the soul level. A tying of some sort. A connection.

A bond.

Unbreakable. Unshakable.

Eternal.

And it’s with an almost unheard non-existent level of vulnerability that Roman practically whispers against the slick skin of her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “I need you, Solana.”

Her eyes water. The connection. The emotion. The love of it all. She doesn't know if he’s feeling the last one, but she certainly is, and it’s the best feeling in the world. “You’ll always have me.” She moans, whimpering as he starts moving her again, nudges that spot yet again. “Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman."

This man now has her: mind, body, and soul.

Her better half.

Her missing piece

It aids in the build up, her fingers squeezing against his muscular shoulders. “I’m—I’m gonna—“

“I know,” his voice is strained, his body tensing up underneath her. Solana knows he’s not far behind. He quickly switches their positions, wanting her underneath him, spreading her thighs further to maximize the full pleasure of this final ride.

Hand to his chin, she forces his gaze on her, reminding him with a hint of vulnerability. “You and me.” Her release is almost immediate, a fountain of tightness and pressure that’s both wonderful and all encompassing, forcing her to lay her head against his shoulder, holding onto him as she rides out her climax.

And it’s not even minutes later that his release finds him just as strong, just as heavy, just as fucking shattering.

Roman lets go, big body jerking above her as he releases inside of her, the mixture of their togetherness creating an absolute mess that coats almost all of their lower halves. But, she doesn’t care, just continues to hold onto him as he empties until there’s nothing left.

Solana groans quietly as he pulls out of her, the absence of him creating a strange, unfamiliar void that’s moderately eased as he plops down on his back next to her, immediately pulling her onto his chest.

This settles her almost instantaneously.

He kisses the top of her head, gently rubbing her back. “Did I—did I hurt you?”

She smiles against him. The answer to that question has and will always be the same. “No. Never.” Tears burning her eyes, she murmurs into his skin. “You set me free.”

Because, he did. Because after tonight, there’s no turning back. There’s no block or wall of trauma that can stop her from experiencing this. From truly being able to say that while her assault fractured her, it damn sure didn’t break her.

Roman’s deep voice above her offers a low, gentle rebuttal. “You did that, Sol.” And as if emotions weren’t high enough as it is, he has to send her nearly overboard with his next simple but powerful statement. “you said yes.”

Eyes closing, she has to sit on it, has to rest in it, has to feel it. With all the emotion, she reaffirms it, reclaims her voice, her autonomy, yet another piece of her life. “I said yes…..”

----------

translations:

“Te quiero mucho.” = "I love you so much."

"Lo’u Au" = Someone who is your absolute favorite

"Me haces muy feliz" = "You make me very happy."

"Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman" = "I love you with all my soul, Roman."

"Yo siento muy bien contigo" = "I feel happy with you."

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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glacierclear · 1 year

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ISN'T BITE ALSO TOUCH?

fuckboy!leon x gn!reader (maybe a few gendered terms oops)

content: hurt/no comfort, angst, arguments, passive aggression, mentions of drugs/alcohol

Your best friend is a fuckboy. He ditches you at a party. You argue. Maybe they were right about him.

[ao3 link]

They all tried to tell you. Every single one of them.

He’s bad news, don’t bother. You would scoff.

He’s nothing but a walking penis. He doesn’t care about anything. And you’d roll your eyes.

Every red flag. Every warning sign. Every flashing light. You refused to heed any of them. And you tilled, and you sowed, and you fed. And now? You were reaping.

“I don’t get what the big deal is. You’re a big kid. You don’t need a damn babysitter.” His hands remained clenched, balled up and shoved into the pouch of his hoodie. His posture was lax. Noncommittal. He stared into a wall, his expression detached and unreachable.

“When you called me up tonight to drag me to some stupid frat party, I at least expected you to like, stay with me,” you countered. “We weren’t even there for an hour before you up and ditched me. Streaking across campus like a moron.” The base of your neck throbbed, the fledgling burn of an oncoming migraine. Your clothes still reeked of burnt weed and the cloyingly pungent whiff of cotton candy vape smoke.

“You should be fucking grateful. Wouldn’t have gotten into that party without me. Shit was the best thrasher of the month.” He lifted his head, scorching you with that know-it-all smirk. It huffed the coals of your stomach. You felt like puking.

“I didn’t…oh my god, Leon. I didn’t go for the party. I thought you…I don’t know. I thought you actually wanted to hang out. Have a good night.”

Your fingers burrowed their way through the folds of your sheets and you stayed perched at the edge of your bed. Leon hovered at your doorway, barely present in the space of your dorm, his contour fuzzed with casting light.

He didn’t say anything. Your eyes pulsed and stung. “Look. I’m not mad, I just–”

“You should be.”

“What?”

It’s then that he finally dared to meet your eyes. Blue hues swallowed whole by the pitch of his pupils, seeking you past tendrils of mussed, blonde hair.

“You should be mad. Why aren’t you? Cuz’, you’re right. I fucking ditched you. Like a moron.” He flung the word back with acid and you winced away. “God forbid I have some fun, right? Forgot you’re too much of a buzzkill to actually have fun at a party.”

There’s a throttling impulse to scream at him. Tell him off for being unreasonable and kick his ass to the curb like last week’s trash. But you’ve danced to this song before. The repeating pattern and pervasive enigma of Leon’s refusal to invest himself; emotionally, or otherwise.

So, you sucked in a steadying breath, filled your lungs with patience, and spoke softly.

“It’s not just about the party,” you began, and passively, you noticed him shift. “I mean…streaking? You realize that if you got caught doing that…you wouldn’t have a scholarship anymore. Hell, maybe you’d be expelled.”

The realization settled on him like a poison and you caught his face darken. As much as he denied and disguised, Leon was a smart man. Excellent standing in his classes and a whopping GPA to match the third leg he swung in his pants. It meant a lot to him.

There’s a gap of silence before he opened his mouth again.

“...well, I wasn’t caught. And it was my choice. I don’t need you nagging me like a fucking mom, alright?” His body shrunk in on itself. Caging his softer parts from the reality he narrowly avoided. On a better day, perhaps you’d chase him. Push and fight for a break in his shell, a crevice that gave way to the man you knew he was capable of being. But, God, your head was shattering. Your nausea was worsening. You weren’t making progress.

“Right, well, sorry for caring, Leon,” you relented, turning away from him to click your phone into its charger. “I’m going to bed. Don’t bother inviting me to any more parties.”

Your gaze left him, you weren’t fully aware of his body, but in the fleeting moments following your surrender he’s on you. Lurking above you like the baleful firmament of a roaring summer storm. You hardly had the time to open your mouth before he’s speaking. No, he’s growling. Revving the engine of his fury.

“...so that’s it? You’re not putting up with me anymore?” It could be the headache talking, but you swore you heard a tremble in his voice.

“Huh? The fuck are you–”

“We’re not friends anymore. That’s what you’re doing, right?” You searched the raging sea of his eyes for a raft. But all you did was drown. “I fucked up one too many times and now I’m just another shitty dude you had to put up with.” You watched the chipped black of his nails dig into his arms, tensed up limbs shielding him from what he’s most afraid you’ll confirm.

“Leon, that’s not…we’re still friends, okay? I just don’t want to go to parties like that anymore. Just give me a few days to cool off and we can…I dunno, we’ll hit up that burger joint you love.” It’s a pretty weak bargain, but maybe he’d bite.

And he did bite. He bit and he tore and he sought out blood.

“You’ve always had shitty taste in guys.” He practically spat at you, a scornful wrinkle deepening in the bridge of his nose. “Fucking stand up for yourself. You always let people walk all over you and act surprised when they turn out to be shitheads.”

He leaned in. You smelled him. Overpriced cologne. Underpriced shampoo. Crappy beer he drank even though he hated the taste. Despite it all, you yearned to hug him.

“Leon, I–”

“...and you know what? I don’t fucking need you. I don’t need your little dates. Your pity sex. I don’t need you looking out for my damn scholarships and I especially don’t need you making me look bad when I’m trying to let loose at the party I’ve been looking forward to all goddamn month.” You wanted him to stop. You wanted to bridge the chasm and devour his violence. If only he’d let you. But all he did was bite harder. “I won’t bother inviting you out anymore. Actually, I won’t bother talking to you at all. Have fun with your fucking life, I’m done being your fucking charity. Goodni–”

At the edge of his precipice, the void he dug for solace, Leon plummets. He straightened his spine, eyes widening and jaw hanging lifelessly. You were crying. Tears bursting without prejudice. Staining your face in vulnerability you so often only used to comfort him.

He went too far. And now, you were crying.

Neither of you moved for an eternity. From the hallway of your dorm, you hear the thundering trots of drunken friends laughing and yelling. The noise swelled and faded. The only evidence of a world beyond your room.

He called your name. His voice was so much quieter, held together with twine and stinging regret. You lifted your eyes and your throat barely allowed your words to pass.

“...Great job, Leon. Now I’m mad.” In an act of self-preservation, you tore your gaze away, burning a stare into the ground below his shoes. They’re blotched with dirt and chlorophyll, still damp from his midnight misdemeanor. “I won’t bother you anymore. If you hate me that much, I…I’ll leave you alone.”

His arms unfolded, one hand reaching out, a fragmented attempt to soothe you. But it was too late.

He repeated your name.

“I didn’t…fuck, I shouldn’t have said…hey–”

“Go home, Leon.” Your voice was unwavering, and he flinched back, your ire the open flame he’s too human to touch.

And then he left. Your dorm vibrated with the slam of the door, and you buried your face in your hands. In the place of his feet, soil stained your carpet. In the place of his warmth, sandalwood smoldered the air.

In the place of your love, all you wanted was to die.

#my writing #resident evil #leon kennedy #fuckboy!leon #angst #wahhhhhh wahhh wahhhh wahhhh

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healmydesires · 11 months

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needy ꕤ (a.s)

kinktober 2023

prompts: breeding kink + overstimulation + lingerie

pairing: modern!anakin skywalker x sub!f!reader

summary: you surprise your boyfriend with your sexy ensemble.

genre: smut + fluff , tbh pure filth sorry! (mdni! 18+ only)

word count: 6,5k (actually 6,488 but hehe)

warnings/tags: pxrn no plot sorry <3, established relationship, sub!reader and soft dom!anakin because that’s my shit, breeding kink, lingerie, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, face sitting, oral!f receiving, slight daddy kink (sorry), dirty talk, begging, praise kink, size kink, creampie, some manhandling, unprotected sex (piv), multiple positions, after care but also… multiple rounds. lots of pet names.

a/n: FINALLY I’m doing a kinktober prompt lmaooo. I’m aware of how … late I am but! I’ve always wanted to join but I never have the time to actually do each day tbh so here is my one and only “submission” for this event. I hope you enjoy <3 could be read in the same universe as you’re my medicine. which you can read here.

dividers by @saradika <3 thank uuuu for making these 🫂

ao3 • masterlist

“Ani?”

The sound of his name echoes throughout your shared apartment like a siren's song. Excitement bubbles inside you as you wait patiently for him. Sweet and mischievous to the ears, Anakin drops everything that he is doing and starts following the sound of your soft voice.

“Sweetheart?” He says, his voice laced with confusion.

Once you hear the door creaking softly you look up, revealing Anakin in the doorway. All lights are off except for some candles placed all over the bedroom, illuminating the room with a dim light. It gives off a very intimate and warm feeling. You notice Anakin’s eyes finally land on your body, his breath hitching as he takes you in.

You smile mischievously at him, your right hand holding up your head while the other hand waves flirtily at him. Anakin gulps as his eyes widen as he keeps staring at you. Sitting up slowly, sliding yourself off the bed as you make your way to him swaying your hips side to side, hypnotising him. You chuckle as you circle his body once, then stand in front of him as you flutter your eyes up at him.

“Baby,” he breathes, his eyes looking you up and down.

The lingerie you’re wearing is a pretty baby blue set with turquoise and light blue flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders.

His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Anakin’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the baby blue see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“What’s wrong big boy, cat got your tongue?” You bite your lip as you trace a finger up and down his chest as you continue to hold his gaze.

Anakin quickly comes back to his senses as his eyes glint with mischief while a smile plays on his face. “You’re right princess, you truly left me speechless for a second.” He says as his smile turns deviously. He circles your body as you follow his movements, taking a step back before you feel his hands on your hips, as your back hits the wall. “You are so beautiful, you never fail to mesmerise me.” Anakin whispers as his lips move to your ear.

Before you can speak his lips attach themselves against your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. You whimper as you feel him lick up a wet stripe against your neck while holding your body closer to his. Heat travels all the way between your thighs at his touch and attention. As Anakin keeps practically devouring your neck you lose yourself in his touch.

“Ani,” you whine as you feel his hands play with the elastic band of your thong. “Anakin,” You breathe, and he responds by just humming against your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy baby,” he says hungrily before he tries to pull your body closer to his again, leaning down to kiss you. His mouth envelops yours as you return his kisses. A small moan slips past your lips as his hands caress your cheek, then tilting it to the side as he traces small nips across your jawline, ending just by your ear. Your hips are grinding up into his and he slowly pulls away from you.

“I need you so bad angel,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your neck, slowly moving back below your ear. Moments later his lips press soft kisses just underneath your ear, slowly moving down the column of your neck.

“Ani,” you whimper, surrendering yourself to him. He hums against your skin, feeling his tongue licking up a stripe of your neck, eyes fluttering shut and you tremble against him as a moan escapes your lips. “I need you too.”

The moment the words leave your lips, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed over, clouded with lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips envelop yours in a loving but lustful kiss.

Anakin’s mouth moves, slow and deep. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world. You love the feel of his lips on yours, you could kiss your man all day. So soft and yet so powerful.

You part your lips slightly to catch your breath, inhaling slowly as you taste him and only him. His tongue sweeps across your lips making you whimper. The wet muscle wraps itself against yours a moment later, hot and wet and steady as he tastes your mouth and kisses you passionately.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands try to find purchase on his arms.

“Please,” you whimper. You don’t know exactly what you’re begging him for but you need more.

You feel your core clench around nothing and the lacy material becomes even more wet as both of his hands travel from your waist to your ass, squeezing it in his hands and pushing your body closer to his. You know your panties are ruined by now. You’re so wet and turned on. Only for him, always only for him.

You both continue to kiss each other languidly as he guides you to the bed. As you both fall on the bed his hands start exploring your body, his fingertips touching every skin he can reach. You feel yourself aching, the feeling in between your legs feels almost unbearable.

Your body is squirming underneath his as you’re becoming rather impatient. He traces one of his hands down, slipping his hand underneath the band of your underwear. Slowly, he rubs your throbbing clit once he reaches your pussy.

“So fucking wet.” He groans as his fingers explore your wetness.

You gasp, his lips devouring yours, swallowing all your sounds, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it, kitten?" Anakin groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words sweetheart," he taunts.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper.

“That’s my good girl,” he smirks before your eyes flutter close.

Your mouth falls open with a small whine when Anakin slides his middle finger and index finger into your entrance, the long digits easily finding your sweet spot, which he immediately begins to play with. You feel your legs spread even more open for him at the feeling of his fingers pleasuring you. His tongue slips into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at his strands softly making him moan into your mouth.

“You’re so gorgeous. A fucking Goddess.” Anakin groans as his hand shifts, thumb settling against your clit to work it smoothly, and he thrusts another finger inside you slowly, curling his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake. “God, I want you so bad.”

“You have me, always.” You whimper as your body trembles underneath him. So overwhelmed with the arousal and emotions you’re feeling right now.

His eyes burn holes into yours, lust written all over them. When he fastens his motions inside you, you moan out again and squeeze your eyes shut. That burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen making your back arch beautifully.

“Open your eyes for me baby girl, look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly, looking straight into Anakin’s intense eyes. That's what it takes to make the dam break. The burning hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving on their own against his hand.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, I’ll never get tired of watching you come undone.” He says as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl for me.”

As you feel your consciousness finally come back to you, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. He pulls his hand out of your panties, moving it to his lips. He holds your gaze as he licks his fingers clean. You whimper and feel your core clench around nothing as you watch him.

“You always taste so good, princess. Speaking of,” A huge smug smirk spreads across his face as his eyes glint with mischief. “I really want you to sit on my face tonight.”

“Now?” You whisper with wide eyes.

“Yes, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, before his fingers come to hold your chin, moving your face towards his. Your lips connect in a sweet kiss. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. You whine as he pulls away smiling at you with a tender look in his eyes.

“You know I love you right?” He whispers as one of his hands strokes the soft skin of your cheek. You feel yourself melt instantly as you look into his eyes and the feel of his soft touch.

“Of course, Ani. I love you too.” You bite your bottom lip softly before you lean towards him to peck his lips.

As you both pull away, he starts undressing himself unhurriedly. He is way too slow for your liking which makes you whine impatiently for him. “Patience sweetheart,” he looks down at you with a huge smirk on his face while removing his shirt.

“Come here,” he crawls a bit up to the bed and quickly reaches down to remove his sweatpants leaving him bare, throwing it off the bed. You bite your lip as you look at his thick cock. You feel your core clench again, as it already begs to be filled. Anakin gives you an intense look making you reach up towards him.

You move towards him, sitting up and slowly straddling his hips. His hands are soon on your hips, squeezing the flesh. Anakin bites his lip as he smiles, moving your body closer. You then slowly shuffle forward until your thighs are resting on either side of his head. It’s a foreign position to you, because it’s one that you haven’t tried before.

“Is this okay?” You ask nervously as you look down at him. Anakin hums and blows a bit of warm air against your inner thigh, mouth ghosting across the skin.

“This is perfect.” He reassures you.

His hands, large and powerful, yet so very gentle, trace the skin of your thighs, inching higher and higher until they rest just below the plump swell of your ass. Slowly, he pushes your thong to the side, leaving your pussy bare for him. A small whimper leaves your lips as you feel his breath on your heat. Then, Anakin looks up as a teasing smile forms on his face, moving your body the way he wants you to be.

He licks a long stripe along your slit, coaxing a loud, broken moan out of you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he laps at you gently. You writhe against his lips, whining above him. Anakin takes the advantage he has on your body as he drags you down even closer to his face. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

It’s heavenly addicting, the way his tongue slips between your folds and dips into you, working you closer and closer to your release within each passing second.

Anakin heaves in a breath as he pulls you up just slightly, “I want you to ride my face, you think you can do that for me baby?” He says as his eyes glint in the candle light. His smile is so inviting and you bite your lip as you nod your head.

Without another word he eases you back down on his tongue. His mouth instantly licks you up again. The hands on your ass knead the two cheeks as he begins to rock you forward, guiding your motions until you begin to move on your own. With each gentle sway of your hips, the headboard starts to knock against the wall, the noise mixing with the little moans you make out of ecstasy.

“Ah, fuck, daddy” you whine as you grind your hips a bit faster against his lips.

You shudder as his lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking lightly. One of your hands that was holding the headboard, moves to tangle in his hair, tugging softly as he moans against you.

You cry out as you feel yourself get closer to your second high of the night. You squeeze your eyes shut as you pick up your pace, unable to handle the unbearable pleasure you’re experiencing as the coil in your stomach is about to snap.

You squeal as Anakin plunges his tongue inside your walls. Massaging your inner walls, driving you insane as he sucks and licks with fervour.

“Aniii, I’m close, fuck fuck fuuuuck” You stutter out a loud cry as you throw your head back.

He increases his pace, tongue thrusting up inside you. Your body temperature is rising as you circle your hips faster.

“Please, fuck, Ani please, I’m close…”

His tongue slides out of your hole, attaching his lips around your throbbing nub. With one harsh suck on your clit you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as your whole body racks with such intense pleasure, you almost think you’ll pass out.

Gasping out his name, you tumble forward with your hands bracing the headboard, hips stuttering until the final waves of aftershock pass. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.

“Always doing so good for me, always being such a good girl.” He praises you as he presses soft wet kisses against the skin of your thigh.

You tremble as you move a leg back over his body and shimmy down the bed, laying on your stomach, nuzzling your head into your pillow while you close your eyes.

You hear him chuckle before you feel his body close against yours. Opening your eyes you look up at him as he’s looking down at you laying on his side as one of his arms supports his face. Anakin smiles as he reaches up to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You sigh against his touch and kiss his thumb as he traces it across your lips.

He leans his head down, pressing tender kisses against your shoulder as his fingertips move along your skin.

“I love you so much, baby.” He whispers in between kisses as he nuzzles his head between your neck and your shoulder. You feel yourself melt under his soft touch, kisses and attention.

“I love you too Ani.”

His mouth moves to explore the rest of your body, littering your body with his kisses. He then slowly manoeuvres his body on top of yours, right behind you. His hands travel along with his lips, caressing your skin in the most gentle way. Anakin leaves long and wet kisses down your spine, occasionally lavishing your skin with his tongue.

Little whimpers leave your lips as his mouth and hands travel lower and lower down your body. Instinctively you spread your thighs a bit more for him.

“So needy.” He chuckles softly behind you.

His hands come to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass up in the air. He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Then, Anakin pushes your ruined underwear to the side again. You whimper, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenches around nothing, aching and begging to be filled. Your body trembles with anticipation. You’re dripping again, so soaked for him.

“Please Ani, I need y—” your begging gets cut off by a high pitched whimper leaving your lips as Anakin’s mouth dives between your thighs.

He licks a long stripe along your slit, coaxing small whines and moans out of you. Anakin’s grip on your hips is strong, keeping you in place as he laps at you furiously. You writhe against his lips, whining and pleading for more.

His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises come out from your mouth the more he applies pressure with his tongue.

“Fuck… I’ll never get tired of eating your pretty pussy. So sweet just like you.” Anakin murmurs against you before making out with your lips again.

You whimper as you tremble against him, overwhelmed all over again. Licking a long stripe along your slit and then his tongue swirls around your entrance, pulling a loud, broken moan out of you. You squeal as Anakin plunges his tongue inside your walls, instantly massaging and licking your inner walls. You writhe against his tongue as loud incoherent noises leave your lips.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you move against him, unable to handle the unbearable pleasure you’re experiencing as the coil in your stomach is about to snap. His hands move to your ass, kneading the two cheeks as he lets you grind your hips against his face.

You fuck yourself against his tongue, whimpering loudly the more he thrusts his wet muscle inside you. The temperature in the room is rising dramatically the more he sucks, licks and thrusts inside you. As you try to move your hips faster against him you feel him grip your thighs, spreading them more for him, squeezing the flesh. Then one of his hands leaves your thighs to circle your little button with his thumb, driving you mad.

“Please, fuck Ani, daddy please, I’m so close—” you choke on your moan.

Anakin grunts loudly, he curls his tongue upward to brush your walls, you practically scream at his actions and you feel the coil snap when he applies more pressure to your clit.

You arch your back and throw your head back with a loud moan, as you see your vision turn white while you continue to grind your hips against him, trying to chase your release.

Gasping out his name, you grasp the sheets in your hands at the intense pleasure. Your pussy keeps clenching around his tongue as he continues to pleasure you. Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock have passed. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.

“You did so well angel, you’re always such a good girl for me. I can never get enough of how good you taste.” He moans against you.

Your hands move from the sheets as you try to reach for his head, gently pushing him away from you.

With a light chuckle he pulls away. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Anakin is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tuts.

“But Ani—” you whine. You dip your head down, resting your forehead against your pillows before feeling him pull at your locks.

“Oh no, we are far from finished.” He says, his voice sounding a lot deeper than before. “I’m sure you can handle a few more orgasms.”

You whine pathetically and moments later he releases the hold on your hair, then he moves to press wet kisses all the way up towards your neck.

“Remember our colour system?” He whispers as he spoils your body with his affection and you can’t help but moan beneath him.

You nod quickly.

“Sweetheart, I need verbal communication.” He halts his movements as he waits for your next words.

“Yes Ani, I remember. Green for yes, yellow for slow down and red for stop.”

“Perfect,” he whispers before he continues kissing your body.

You wiggle underneath him once his lips meet your neck, kissing the skin lazily. He then nuzzles his head between your neck and your shoulder.

Seconds later you feel his cock rubbing up and down your slit. You grip the sheets as he circles the tip around your entrance and you whimper as you buck your hips against him, wanting him to fill you up already.

Anakin grips your hips, holding you so you don’t make any movements any more. “Patience.” He groans against your ear as you try to wiggle your hips again, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

As you continue to squirm against him, Anakin’s large hands squeeze your hips. His cock slides against your wetness once again as you try to move your hips. Your body trembles with anticipation, hoping he will finally enter you from behind. You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as you move your hips against his, grinding your wetness against his dick, the tip nudging your entrance every now and then.

“Please, f-fuck. I can’t take it anymore. I need you to fuck me so bad. My p-pussy needs to be filled with your cock so bad. Please daddy fill me up. I need—”

With a loud groan he tilts your ass up for him as he manoeuvres behind you and pushes your legs further apart. “So fucking needy.”

A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. He gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. You feel his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you know his eyes are on your heat. He’s watching as your walls spread to begin to wrap around him, trying to accommodate his girth. The pressure of his massive cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“D-d-daddy…” you stutter and whine.

“I know baby, I know.” Anakin moans above you as he continues to push more of him inside. Your pulsing walls are wrapped tightly around his cock, occasionally clenching as your pussy pulls him in more. You feel so full already and you know he’s barely halfway in.

“Please, need more.” You whimper as you squeeze the sheets in your hands.

He groans at your desperate noises, losing his composure momentarily as he thrusts the last parts of himself inside you, filling you up to the brim, you moan as he halts his movements, finally inside you all the way. “Fuck, angel, you look so beautiful like this, taking me so well.” Anakin can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, not giving you the time to adjust he quickly pulls himself out of you making you whine at the empty feeling. “Oh you’re such a needy kitten.” He groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your pussy again.

A scream leaves your mouth as you’re trembling underneath him, you try to adjust to his size while your pussy keeps clenching around his cock. You push your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers keep falling from your lips. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

“Such a tight pussy.” He groans as you continue to squeeze him.

A couple of moments later you signal him that he can move. Then his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy before he shoves himself roughly all the way in.

“A-Ah daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he then moves his hips slowly against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. His hands come to move to squeeze the flesh of your ass while he continues to move against you.

You feel his cock throbbing inside you as you tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He grunts above you.

You let out a loud long moan, arching your back, throwing your ass back against him. Your pussy is still trying to adjust as it continues to pulse and squeeze around his thick cock. Anakin then thrusts his cock up to the hilt, hard, taking you in such a sudden and intense way it has you struggling to breathe. Your hands ball into a white-knuckle grip, clinging onto the sheets.

You want to savour the feeling of his throbbing cock as you pulse around him, want to remember both of your trembling breaths when he hits your sensitive spots, and you truly can’t wait to feel his hot cum fill your pussy.

The thought alone makes you squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering desperately as you picture it. As you imagine feeling the globs of white dripping out of you, stuffing you full of his cum, your pussy can’t help but clench around his thick cock repeatedly. You’re on birth control but the possibility of him being able to knock you up leaves you whining underneath him.

“Fuck kitten, what has you clenching around me so much.” He pants as both his hands squeeze the soft skin of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he stares at your pulsing hole taking his dick.

“The thought of you breeding me.” You whimper, biting your lip as you look shyly behind you.

Instantly, Anakin halts his movements as he looks at you in surprise. His eyes search yours as he seeks for any doubt or lies. When he finds none of that, his shaft jerks inside you, thick beads of precum coating the soft walls of your cervix. You close your eyes for a second as a desperate moan falls from your lips at the feel of it.

“Are you serious?” He questions. He takes a deep breath as you continue to look at him earnestly.

“Y-yeah.” You stutter as you look away timidly. “I just,” you continue with a whimper, “I can’t stop thinking of you fucking me full with your cum. I need it. Ani, you know I’m all yours. Only yours. Please, I need you so bad. My pussy needs yo—” you’re begging and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he suddenly thrusts roughly inside you.

You almost feel your arms giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Anakin’s hands are clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leans down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travel down your spine, until he leans back up and just looks at you from behind.

“Fuck, baby girl. I need it too.” He moans as he fucks you with fervour. Your tight pussy clenches at his words, earning a loud growl before he smacks your ass.

“Daddy!” you mewl loudly.

“You always look so beautiful,” he continues, cursing when you purposefully tighten your walls around him again. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, you look even prettier full with my cum.”

You nod vigorously as you continue to beg, “please, please daddy. Need it so bad.”

He then hits your spot, and continues to do it again and again, each hit spending a shot of delicious lightning to course down your fragile spine. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already.

Your hands continue to grip the sheets as he thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel. Tears collect around the rims of your eyes. Each spike sends you closer and closer to the edge.

Anakin picks up his pace again, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb repeatedly.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as Anakin’s hips move faster, moaning you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his massive cock. Your tiny pussy is so full of him, as it pulses and tightens around him, begging him to fill you up with his seed. Begging him to make your pussy even more full.

It’s so filthy, but it’s what you need.

Anakin moans at the sight of your pussy trying to accommodate him still, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. You continue to push your ass back into him, fucking yourself back against him. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against your pillow at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

The noises that are spilling off your lips drive him insane, his dick throbbing inside you as you don’t stop tightening your walls around him.

“Daddy, fuck. Ani, please, I need you. I need more please, please.” You whine loudly as you move your hips along with his.

“Yeah? Do you need more?” He moans as he leans down to press kisses against your shoulders. “You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once again making you cry out in pleasure. He continues his brutal pace as your moans grow louder and louder as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate noises of ecstasy. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging for me to fill it up with my cum.”

“Ani, please.” You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.

“What do you want, angel?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure against the little bundle of nerves. The pleasure has the tension tightening in your tummy, dying for your release.

“Oh, please, more. Please, please faster, harder anything.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him. “Please don’t stop.”

“Mm, don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” He pants, as he reassures you. He grips your hips tighter as he picks up his pace once more. You try to catch your breath but from how Anakin is trusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.

You whine loudly as he hits your sensitive spot inside you again. You’re literally going insane, it feels so overwhelming and good.

“Fuck, daddy—” you choke on your moan.

“Does that feel good, my sweet girl?” Anakin asks as he leans down his body closer to yours, making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good, kitten? That I’m about to breed this pussy?”

“Yes, daddy! Feels so good.” You whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spot and cervix. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming. You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down once again and licks your neck.

Anakin snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m so close, please, Ani,” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.

“Come for me kitty,” he whispers against your ear.

His fingers press down on your little button making you squirm underneath him. The coil then snaps after a few more thrusts, pleasure erupts in waves as heat overflows your body as you arch your back. Your ears start to ring from the overwhelming feeling. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him.

Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

He slows down his pace, but continues to fuck you through it. Once you’ve regained some of your consciousness and your breathing has slowed down, he pulls out, manhandling you, landing you on your back. You whimper at the sensitivity as moments later he thrusts inside again.

You struggle to keep your eyes open as he fucks you slow. “Look at me, my love.” He whispers before finally reuniting your mouths in a sweet kiss.

Anakin then licks into your mouth, soon turning the kiss more passionate. He looms his chest over yours, pressing his hands on either side of your face into the mattress. You whimper into his mouth. You keep your eyes closed as you find the strength to wrap your arm around his sweaty neck.

“Come on baby,” he says breathlessly, as he pulls back. “I want you to look at me.”

You open your eyes unhurriedly, staring right into his eyes as he smiles down at you.

“That’s my good girl.”

He then moves, gradually rolling his hips faster into yours, sensual and deep. He holds you close and continues to kiss you with a groan, and in that moment the world dissolves into only lips and tongues and harsh breaths and whispered “I love you”s and feverish skin against feverish skin and the heavy drag of him inside of you.

He hits your sensitive spot inside you again, and you make a strangled noise as you gasp and yank at his hair, throwing your head back at the waves of white-hot pleasure wracking your body again, forgetting everything other than his skin on yours and his cock filling you up.

Anakin is all you can feel.

“Aniii—”

The overwhelming sensitivity has you feeling close again, so close you can practically taste your orgasm, even if your mouth is completely dry from gasping his name over and over again.

Feeling your walls begin to pulsate erratically, Anakin knows you’re close again. All of a sudden, he pulls you even closer to him, something that seemed impossible, considering you’re already clinging to each other.

With every time Anakin thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your clit, making you cry out his name in pleasure.

“A-Ani, please, I’m close,” you stutter out, your back arching as you push your hips into his.

Nodding above you, Anakin gasps and pants for air. “Fuck princess, me too,” he replies.

It feels like you are being ripped in half in the best way possible, your walls clenching and fluttering around his thick cock, causing him to let out some more strangled cries of his own.

“Please, Ani,” you whimper as you think about him filling you up and you tighten your walls around him once again. He gasps when you pulse around him, wanting him to spill his load inside of you, needing to see him fall apart.

One of his hands snake its way between their bodies to rub circles into your clit, making you jolt and scream. He turns his head, tucking it into your neck to swipe his tongue along the shell of your ear and whispers, “Cum for me, kitten.”

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry. And then you are gone, your eyes roll back into your head and your back arches high off the bed, as your world dissolves into pure ecstasy, coming for the fifth time that night.

“Ah fuck—“ he rasps, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix again and again. “Are you gonna take my cum like a good girl? Will you let me fill you up until my pretty baby is messy, hm?”

You whine at his words, mouth dropping open in awe as you can barely open your eyes while you watch him, nodding tiredly as pleasure still courses through you. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washes over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grows desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he feels his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splash along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The feeling makes you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrusts into you, making sure you take every last drop.

His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Anakin pants as he lets his body slump against yours. His cock is still nuzzled deep within you, slowly softening as it keeps the cum from leaking out.

You bite your lip as you squeeze purposely around him. Anakin groans at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” You giggle as your hands trail through his hair.

“Makes me hard again.” Your boyfriend mumbles.

“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continue to giggle.

Anakin chuckles as he pulls his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.

Your hands continue to play with his hair, feeling the damp strands slowly detangle as you take your time. “I was serious though, I’d love to try with you.”

“Try what?” He asks teasingly.

You tug at his hair playfully which makes him laugh. “You know exactly what I mean.”

You sigh dramatically as he continues to laugh.

“Alright, okay. I’ll be serious now.” He says, trying to keep himself from chuckling again.

You raise your eyebrow at him as you grin. “Sure.”

“Yeah, I’d love that too.” He whispers before he captures your lips in a deep kiss. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimper against him. You feel yourself melting against his embrace as he wraps his arms around you.

“Another round?” Anakin says cheekily once he pulls away, while he caresses your hips.

You giggle before he reunites your lips again. And as you both keep kissing each other languidly, you lose yourself in his kisses and affection.

The night is filled with your kisses, noises of pleasure and all the love you both share for one another.

It is safe to say that you both don’t leave the bed until tomorrow, late in the morning.

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 5 months

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Tap, Tap, Tapping

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Summary: You have a strange habit, and Eddie is determined you embrace it.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/notes: No warnings. Just Eddie being a sweet goofy friend. No use of y/n and lots of pet names.

A/N: This was actually inspired by my father lol He's able to tap the rhythm to a song so accurately while riding in the car with the radio on. Whether on the steering wheel or his leg or otherwise. I always thought he would be a fantastic drummer. My mind related it to Eddie somehow 😅😅😅 Enjoy! SorryifthisissuperbadIhaventwritteninsolong

Tiny taglist I haven't forgotten: @zestychili

"What're you doing?" Eddie asked as he drove, glancing over at you momentarily before his eyes went back on the road. The radio played an Ozzy song from a few years back, taking you both back to 1981. Eddie wasn't reminiscing though. He was too focused on you presently.

Pulled out of your daze, you looked at him. "Hm?"

"With your hand," He gestured to you. You looked down at your hand resting still on your thigh.

Once again, you look up at him, this time confused. Before you can say anything though, he speaks again.

"Agh, you stopped," He grumbled. "Did you know you do that? Tap your fingers to music?"

You lifted your hand and looked at it as if it were a foreign object. "Uh.... I mean yeah, I guess. A lot of people do that, Eds," You chuckle, despite feeling a bit flattered he noticed such a small detail. It was one of your little ticks, something you did without thinking much of. You'd done it ever since you'd discovered music. Rock music only made it happen more often.

Eddie pulled up to his trailer and put the van in park, turning to face you more instead of getting out. "No but like, you do it differently. You're completely following the drums in the song."

A sigh left you as you opened the passenger door, anxious to get to that joint Eddie promised you. "Uh yeah, that's kind of the point of tapping your fingers to a song. You follow the beat." You quipped as your feet landed on the gravel.

The driver side door opened and closed with yours and Eddie rounded the front of the van to you. "You don't get it, when I say you follow the drums, I mean it. You hit every beat completely in time. I mean sure sometimes you mess up, but like.... you could be a drummer, sweets. For real." His dark eyes were earnest.

You rolled your eyes and dismissed him, pushing past his form and heading towards the trailer. "Eddie you're being dumb," You reply, thinking maybe this was another one of his teasing jokes he always pulled. A drummer? You? You didn't even take band in high school, let alone know anything about drumming.

Footsteps followed after you as you walked up the steps and you lean over to let Eddie unlock his door.

"I'm being serious! I could play a song you've never heard before and you'd have the percussion down like that!" He exclaimed with the snap of his fingers as he fished out his keys and opened the door for you.

It swung open and you walked in, shaking your head. "Because it's easy!! It's all in the patterns, anybody could catch on to that."

Eddie barked out a laugh. "You'd be surprised, hon. A lot of people don't have a single musical bone in their body."

"What I do isn't music, Ed's. It's just.... me being restless. That's all."

"I don't believe that... here, sit." A hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you over to the couch. You opened your mouth to protest but he gave you a stern "Shush," before he disappeared into his room down the hall.

You leaned over to watch as he walked back into the livingroom and plopped an upside down five gallon bucket in front of you. He then held out two drumsticks, a goofy smile on his face. "Play!"

"Eddie...." You can't help but smile at him despite your patience wearing thin. You cross your arms, glancing warily at the drum sticks.

"Come on, sweetheart, just try! Here, I'll even put on music for you." He tossed the sticks at you, startling you as he went over to one of his many boom boxes and hits play.

The music was far too loud, startling you again. It caused you to finally stand and raise your voice. "Eddie!!"

The music immediately stopped as he pressed the button and he looked at you, not the least bit hurt. Just looking.... baffled. Baffled that you didn't want to explore this.

You sigh and step over the bucket to him. "Look, I.... I'll think about what you said. Really. But tonight just isn't the night...."

Eddie's face softened. He knew the kind of day you'd had at work. Customer service was hell and after more than one panic attack because of it that day, well.... it was the whole reason he'd offered to smoke at his place that night. He wanted tonight to be relaxing and fun for you. Now he understood it wasn't the time to treat you like a guinea pig. It was time to treat you like his friend.

He smiled comfortingly at you. "Alright, alright... I'm sorry. You're right, tonight's not the night." He agreed, then wrapped an arm around your shoulders to lead you to his bedroom. "But one day, it will be.... Let's forget our worries, shall we?"

"Gladly."

............

Your feet crunched on stray gravel as you passed your garage on your way home from the work day. The large door was open and you paused a moment as you spotted a bucket out. It was full of water and soapy suds. Your family must've caved in and paid that kid down the street to hand wash their car for them. Leave it to the 10 year old to leave out the bucket for someone else to clean up.... That wasn't your first thought looking at it though. Your mind went back to the other night with Eddie and how excitedly he'd put a bucket in front of you to drum on.

Hm.... Maybe you could try it.... it wouldn't hurt. Your house was pretty far from anyone else's out in the rural area of Hawkins, so they would only hear faint banging in the distance. You shrugged. Guess today was the day.

You dumped out the bucket into the grass, suds fanning out, then took a seat on a bench in the driveway. The bucket in front of you, you thought for a moment. You didn't own any drumsticks... turning, you glanced behind you at the wall of tools set up. A couple screwdrivers would have to do.

After swiping the tools, you then put your headset on and hit play on the tape inside your walkman. Immediately, Where Eagles Dare started thrumming in your ears and you smiled. You loved the quickness of this song.

The screwdrivers started moving, beginning in small taps as the pattern of the drums started coming back to you. Soon, the makeshift drumsticks were swinging, hands holding the wrong ends, and you could hear yourself beating the bucket through the headset.

At first you didn't care if you were in time or not. It was fun to let out all your frustration and built up tension from the day by beating a bucket to death. But then what Eddie had said started to make sense.... you were keeping in time with the song, drumming the intricate beat exactly. The smile on your face only grew the longer you went on, closing your eyes and playing song after song after song on your mixtape. It was exhilarating.

After what must've been 15 full minutes of nonstop drumming, sweat on your brow and arms aching, your headset was suddenly yanked off. You gasped and looked up, expecting to see your mother there to scold you for making so much noise.

Instead, there stood Eddie, a huge grin on his face. You look over to see his van in the driveway. How long had he been there?

"See, kid, I told you!! I knew you'd be able to do it! I knew you were a drummer!! Oh we gotta call Garette and have him show you his drum set, he's going to be so psyched to show you the ropes!" He exclaimed, dropping your headset in your lap and jumping up and down in front of you like a child at the zoo.

All you could do was smile back at him, surprised at yourself and blushing horrendously. Bless Eddie.... if not for him, you would havenever figured this out about yourself.

Speechless and needing to hide your reddened cheeks, you lept up and embraced Eddie tightly. Full of joy, he returned the favor, picking you up and spinning you around, happily chanting "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!!"

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #one shot #stranger things one shot #eddie munson x reader #x reader #stranger things x reader

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midnightshade · 1 year

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GojoHime: Evidence and Discussion

Jujutsu Kaisen isn't a romance series. It's a horror action series that focuses more on platonic bonds and camaraderie between its characters. That being said, just as any shounen series, it has its fair share of ships, each with its own assortment of crumbs and small details.

GojoHime is a particularly interesting ship to look at. Being a massive fan of it myself, it's fun to pick through the evidence that supports it. I'd like to share the evidence that I and many other GojoHime fans have found. I'll be starting with the smaller, weaker evidence first and working my way up to the strongest evidence.

Before I start in earnest, I want to clarify that this isn't made to attack any other ship. People can ship whatever they want, and no ship in the series is canon (aside from exceptions like Hakari and Kirara). I like GojoHime so I want to talk about it. That's really it.

With that out of the way, let's begin.

First, let's start with the evidence outside of the manga itself. This one isn't very compelling, but it is cute. In Japan, there is a chip brand called Bakauke. Bakauke has two mascots known as Borin and Barin, who are girlfriend and boyfriend. When Bakauke collabed with Jujutsu Kaisen, Utahime and Gojo were chosen to represent the Borin and Barin respectively, thus being depicted as girlfriend and boyfriend.

Moving on to evidence found within the actual manga, we see that on the splash page for Gojo and Utahime, the print behind them depicts arrows known as a Yagasuri pattern. In Japan, this is a symbol often used for weddings. It's meant for good luck because "a shot arrow does not return," and therefore, a married woman does not (or should not) return to her parents.

We also see depictions of them under an umbrella often used at weddings. Sharing an umbrella is also a common romantic trope in Japan.

Other smaller evidence exists in the form of their phone call. This consists a beeper code, where the number of their call spells out "I like you" in code, and another interesting detail is that Satoru calls Utahime from his recent contacts, implying that he calls her often.

Gojo and Utahime were made to be opposites. Aside from the obvious "opposites attract" trope, it creates a compelling visual story between them. Man and woman, strong and weak, modern and traditional, blue and red. Satoru hates alcohol and loves sweets while Utahime loves alcohol but hates sweets.

Gege said Gojo only puts down his Technique with people he trusts, which we see him do with Utahime. He trusts her enough to have to actively put his Technique back in place after she throws a teacup at him.

Moving on to some of the strongest and most convincing evidence, we have Waka Inoue, Utahime's very own technique, and Gege's past works.

Gojo had a picture of Waka Inoue as his background as a teenager. He clearly finds her attractive, as is common, considering she's a popular model, but the reason why this is important is that Inoue shares a lot of similarities with Utahime.

Both women have noticeable bangs, they're the same height (166cm), and they share a love for alcohol, karaoke, and sports, specifically baseball. Waka is described once as a "competitive crybaby who hates to lose," and as we see in the Anime, Gojo has a way of firing Utahime up and she is also prone to being a bit of a scaredy-cat and a crybaby. We also see her more competitive side come out during the baseball tournament between Kyoto and Tokyo.

Moving on to Utahime's Cursed Technique, as some Japanese fans have pointed out, Utahime's Soro Soro Kinku (Solo Forbidden Area) is based on a real love song about forbidden love with lyrics about a masked lover. The records from the singer, Akina Nakamori, are called Utahime records, and the singer even does Gojo's unlimited void hand sign during her live performances of her song, "Fin."

The most compelling bit of evidence for me is Gege's past works. Two of his three one-shot manga have characters who are very similar to Gojo and Utahime. The male protagonist is usually cocky and teases the female protagonist, while the female protagonist gets annoyed at his antics but is otherwise down to earth and kind.

In Nikai Bongai Barabarujura, the protagonist, Noroma, reminds me of teen Gojo in appearance and behavior. He is "the strongest" who teases Nodoka, the female protagonist, for being weak but has an obvious respect for her drive and inner strength.

In Kamishiro Sosa, we have a similar set-up as before. The male protagonist, Ganji, is very energetic and careless with the female protagonist, Rekko's, feelings, and is seen to have a very similar type of banter as Gojo and Utahime have.

Gege clearly likes that type of pairing, which isn't surprising given the bickering couple and rivals to lovers is a popular trope in romance. It's not unusual for Mangaka to reuse old ideas, and that seems to be what happened with Gojo and Utahime. Even their appearances share similarities.

As you can see, GojoHime has a lot of thought put into it, and it's very interesting to see the little details Gege has put into their dynamic. There's definitely a reason why so many adore this pairing, and I'm glad Gege has paid attention to that.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojohime #gouta #gojo satoru #iori Utahime #forbidden writings #jjk meta

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rosenotactuallyquartz · 2 months

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both of you

this song is incredibly special.

it’s almost like it’s over isn’t it is the questions. as i said in my post about it’s over isn’t it, johnston said that pearl feels lost and out of place by the end of the song. both of you has the answers!

steven

i love that steven is the one who sings it. it helps greg & pearl connect, because they’re raising steven. steven reassures them that he feels loved. more loved than greg felt as a kid, along with rose and pearl, who never even got to be kids. pearl also saw how pink was treated in her early years.

rose would be proud of both of them.

rose symbolism

of course, steven is singing the song, but they can still sense rose’s love and lingering presence.

pearl tends to notice the personality and speaking pattern similarities between steven and his mother. in rose’s scabbard, she said, “sometimes, you even sound like her.” so, steven singing the song helps with certain epiphanies and needed closure.

he also has her gem, and when he sings the first, “you both love me and i love both of you,” a tear falls from his eye. to me, it represents rose’s healing tears. interesting, because:

“steven, your mother had healing tears that flowed from her gem. she felt real love for those around her. she felt real sorrow when they were hurt.” — garnet, an indirect kiss.

it definitely symbolizes what rose would say to them if she was alive.

after that line, greg & pearl tear up, too. pearl tears up exactly like she does in the scene where she says steven sometimes sounds like rose (after: well, i think you’re pretty great).

she’s also symbolized by the rose petals in the air and the light around steven being pink. which brings me to my next point.

colour symbolism

the light around steven is pink, symbolizing his mother. rose’s colour was pink, and she also happens to be pink diamond—something that is only known by pearl at the time.

the light on greg is yellow and the light on pearl is blue... which symbolizes a lot of different things.

foreshadowing, for one thing. somewhere on homeworld, blue and yellow are at odds as they’re dealing with the loss of pink. pink, who became rose. this scene gives us a hint about rose’s secret, because eventually we meet blue & yellow and we hear what’s the use of feeling blue. obviously these are two completely different situations involving two completely different people, but it’s a pink diamond hint.

their colours also represent things about greg & pearl in particular.

yellow symbolizes optimism and light, the way greg tries to keep life light for the people he cares about. this is both good and flawed. while he likes living in the moment, he never wanted to have deep conversations & talk about the past. sometimes it can be a form of avoidance, especially when things are unhealed, important, or impacting the present and future.

as i said in my last analysis, greg and pearl are two different extremes & opposites.

blue symbolizes order, loyalty, honesty… but blue also symbolizes sadness. she keeps secrets, always tries to take care of everyone, and it makes her forget about herself. blue also symbolizes timidity, just as the confusing situation, personal insecurity (i.e., always focused on what she can do for her/how she can help her, yet rose could find comfort in simply who pearl is), and pain has made her believe that rose didn’t love her as much as she loved her.

as they bond, he finally provides a sense of warmth that helps with the coldness she feels, and she allows him to really feel everything that he often tries to avoid.

“why don’t you talk to each other, just give it a try. why don’t you talk about what happened, i know you’re trying to avoid it but i don’t know why.” — steven, both of you

it’s funny, the way that these lyrics point out some of their major flaws and how it’s worsened their grief. greg avoids talking about emotional topics, and pearl hasn’t tried to talk to greg about rose and the reasons behind her death, because she has distanced herself from him. which is a very realistic and understandable thing to do, especially in early grief. however, talking to each other makes her realize what really happened. lastly, i don’t know why is related to rose. she didn’t know that they were at odds, she didn’t know how the norms of human relationships worked. despite we need to talk, there were still many things that were left unsaid between… everyone. she was often stuck in her own mind, which was not the best place to be, so she was quite oblivious to the things that were going on around her. heck, she was stuck wondering why two great people cared for her.

the conversation

greg: look, if i were you, i’d hate me, too.

pearl: i don’t hate you.

greg: but i knew how you felt about rose and i stayed anyway.

pearl: that wasn’t the problem.

greg: then, what was?

pearl: she fell in love with you.

pearl’s “blue” allows greg to finally look back at painful memories from the past. as he speaks, his voice sounds similar to how he sounded when he was just 22. he acknowledges the fact that he should have asked more questions about pearl’s love with rose, along with understanding the differences between gem and human relationships. he knows he avoids heavy topics and gem topics, but he recognizes that despite his efforts in we need to talk, he regrets not attempting more communication between all of them. he’s able to have regrets instead of focusing solely on the positives and the present.

doing so helps pearl get some closure. she also has her own epiphany which helps her want to be greg’s friend: he was the first human who cared for rose enough to actually build a meaningful connection with her. she realizes why she said, “i was fine, with the men…” earlier. greg was different. but in a good way, really.

of course she worried about greg being rose’s favourite: not only does she struggle to understand human relationships, but his bond with rose was the first bond she had with a human that wasn’t meaningless like her past bonds. pearl felt confused and everyone was avoiding conversations for different reasons.

and yet, in the background, steven sings, you both love me and i love both of you.

she always did what she wanted!

this line represents the positive and the negative reasons behind rose’s decision to give up her physical form.

while greg and pearl are around each other and they’re allowed to see the situation in a new light, keep in mind that they never switch colours. pearl’s light remains blue and greg’s light remains yellow.

pearl always wondered: “why did she choose to create life with him and die, over living with me forever? she not love me enough?” she questioned this earlier, during it’s over isn’t it, but as i said earlier, both of you gives her the answers.

you both love me, and i love both of you. she seems to get this epiphany that rose loved everyone who loved her. she loved them as much as they loved her. she loved them the exact same way they loved her. no more, no less.

there is no single reason behind behind rose’s death, but the reasons are unrelated to rose choosing someone. the reasons are related to her and steven.

—> pearl’s symbolism

“that wasn’t the problem… then, what was?”

as pearl realizes that rose did fall in love with her, too, she realizes that falling in love with anyone wasn’t really the problem.

the problem was, she’d fall in love… and she’d love whoever she loved far more than she could ever love herself.

as the show continues to progress, pearl is realizing just how much rose was in love with her, but she’s also simultaneously realizing just how much rose didn’t love herself.

she will no longer look back at the memories and say, “i wish she loved me as much as i loved her,” she’ll say, “i wish she loved herself as much as i loved her.”

pearl represents the rose-related reasons behind this decision: how she thought everyone was better than her & would be better off without her.

“people would be drawn to her, gems would be drawn to her, and i don’t know if they would necessarily realize that she was worshipping them, which was compounding her own sadness.” — rebecca sugar

pearl says, “she always did what she wanted!” close to tears. it symbolizes the pain behind rose’s decision.

—> greg’s symbolism

as steven’s father, greg and steven share similarities. they look alike, and he also has this memory:

“but you, you're supposed to change. you’re never the same, even moment to moment, you're allowed and expected to invent who you are. what an incredible power… the ability to grow up.” — greg the babysitter

greg represents the steven-related reasons behind rose’s death: her love for humanity, growth, creating life on her own, creating someone who she knew would be a gift to those she loved, and her love for steven.

rose’s death was a tragedy, and nothing can change that. there were heartbreaking reasons behind her death.

at the same time, this doesn’t mean she loved steven any less! she loved him so much, and she was so excited for him to exist.

in a way, this song gives answers to everyone, honest answers.

all three of them are loved by rose in different ways, genuinely and deeply. the only person she didn’t love enough was herself.

greg says, “she always did what she wanted!” with a laugh at the end. it symbolizes the warmth and love behind rose’s decision, and the wonderful person that they have in their lives. steven is a gift from rose.

final thoughts

steven, pearl, and greg all grow together in this song. it’s special, because this was something rose loved the most: growth. it will always be tragic, because she loved them all and she loved growth, but she never believed she could grow and she couldn’t love herself.

still, this song gives them a sense of closure and reassurance. they learn from each other and see the situation for how it truly is. they experience rose’s presence and they are able to bond once they realize they have a lot in common: they’re grieving, they’re raising a kid they both love. they’re able to do this with the realization that there really was no love triangle here, no choosing someone over the other. no one said, “yeah, i’ll just accept that she loved you more,” or “well, i mean, she loved you like a friend!” because that’s not the case.

i love this song so much, and it’s so underrated yet so deep and complicated.

#pearlrose #steven universe #su rose quartz #crystal gems #pearl su #both of you #rebecca sugar #su #meta su #pink diamond #prose #pearl x rose #love like you #rosepearl #su steven

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honey-flustered · 1 year

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Made With Love (Fluff)

Eddie Munson x Crocheter!Soft!GF!Plus!Reader

Summary: You love making gifts for your boyfriend and his cool uncle. And Eddie just simply adores you.

A/N: Just short draft that ive kept for a while now because i just didn’t know what to do with it. So ive decided to publish it as it is so that in the meantime i can get my shit together.

Word Count: 1.5k+

Summary: inexperienced!reader and eddie, plus size reader, hinted!autistic reader, eddie being a simp for reader, lots of fluff, wayne being reader’s number 1 supporter (don’t tell eddie 🤭), sexually suggestive language and behavior, some body worship, kissing, cuddling

Eddie Munson is the luckiest man in the world. No really because just how did he manage to get a girl like you in his arms? You went beyond his criteria of a perfect girl which was simply to be a woman. But you’ve exceeded in ways he could have never imagined.

For one, you’ve got amazing taste in music. Despite the differences in your music genres, you both appreciate the variety and exchange songs all the time. Second, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Eddie knew he loved rubenesque women but you were all that and more. He swears could die and go to heaven at the feeling of your thick thighs and soft belly as you’d lay his head on either part. And not to mention that beautiful face he yearns to see smiling at him constantly with those enchanting eyes that seem to twinkle endlessly.

Lastly—a fact about you that has both facts, one and two, beat—you’re awfully talented. You bake, paint, and, best of all, you crochet.

You crochet just about everything and he admires it. The best part is you always came up with the most interesting things that even Eddie wasn’t sure he needed.

Currently, you and Eddie were curled up on his couch. Your eyes wandering his shaky lean frame while his eyes stays glued to the television set, a gentle hand caressing your thigh.

You pride yourself for being an observant one, a skill you’ve had to perfect throughout your childhood in order to understand the world around you. And because you’re so observant, nothing gets passed you including the way he continues to shiver beside you.

“Something wrong?” You ask, concerned.

“Just my unusually cold wrists as always,” Eddie sighs. “Strangely specific, I know. It’s the chain bracelet and leather cuffs. The silver and leather are like ice against my skin with this freezing ass weather.”

You smile brightly, clapping your hands in excitement. “Actually, I have just the thing for this little issue.”

“Oh, do you?” Eddie smirks, nose scrunching up in amusement.

“Mhm,” You nod as you began rummaging through your bumblebee bag (crocheted by yours truly). “Close you eyes.”

“‘Kay.” He obeys with a smile never leaving his face.

Rushing up to stand in front of the television set, you held the items behind your back before commanding your boyfriend to open his eyes once more.

“So…I’ve noticed the way you rub your wrists for the friction to radiate some heat because they’re always so cold lately. And I also notice that when the cold becomes to unbearable you’re forced to remove your wrist accessories,” You began your spiel as if you’re in an infomercial. “Why should you sacrifice style or possibly losing your accessories because of naked wrists? Well not anymore with my handy dandy…wrist bands!”

You shoot your hands up and out in front of you, dangling each red and white patterned wristband in either hand. “I also call them Eds Bracelet Warmers as a placeholder product name.”

“That’s metal!” Eddie praises, standing up to study the bands closely. You release them into his hands and he stares down at them in awe, sliding each onto his arm and making a little show of them before his attention resumes back on you.

“Do you like it?” You say rocking back and forth on your heels anxiously.

“I love it! It’s the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

You snort out a giggle. “You say that with every crochet I’ve made you.”

“I was wrong all the other times. I mean, as much as I love the crocheted mug warmers, pillows, and seat cover…I’m thinking this might top them all. Just look at the detailing on this. You’re like a goddamn Picasso. Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a hand on his chest, letting you know just how much you’ve touched his heart. Then he suddenly grows shy, tapping his index fingers together as he avoids your gaze. “Permission to hold you. Maybe…kiss you a little.”

“You don’t have to ask,” You run into his embrace, cupping his face in your hands to plant a searing hot kiss onto his lips. With the mixture of your forwardness and his knee-buckling reaction, he’s sent falling back against the couch with you still in his arms.

You scramble to peel yourself off from above him, not wanting to put to much pressure on his slender frame. And yet he interlocks his fingers together right on your lower back, keeping you still. “Wait, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never, baby,” Eddie says, bringing a hand up to your face to caress your cheek. He then traces his thumb faintly around your lips. “I want you on me all the time.”

He suddenly becomes nervous, a tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. He’s nervous under your alluring gaze, aware that you’re clocking every shift and change in his facial features and mood. Embarrassingly, he had an erection that you no doubt felt in between your bodies and pressing against your belly. Eddie decides to release you from his full grasp.

Instead of pulling away, you draw his thumb into your mouth slowly, pursing your lips around them as you look him through your lashes and half-lidded eyes.

He chokes out an audible whine, even the inside of your mouth felt good. He’s never wanted to explore it this badly. When you pull your mouth around the digit with a pop, Eddie’s quick to cup your face now and shoves his tongue into your mouth. He takes control of the motions, gradually rolling your bodies over so that he’d end up on top.

His eager hands glide up your smooth skin of your thighs, pushing up your dress that fit snug around you. Your hands entangle themselves in his hair, letting your long nails lightly scratch his scalp.

You and Eddie have been soft lovers with one another, taking your time and being patient with one another regarding physical affection. It took a lot for the two of you to feel comfortable enough to ask each other for touches and eventual kisses. You’d say you’ve gotten pretty far.

Sometimes, things would get heated and you’d be concerned that it might lead to sex considering you’re both virgins. However, aside from your anxieties and insecurities, you actually did feel as if you’re ready to give yourself to him. But ever the gentleman, Eddie is usually one to call it quits.

But with his lips moving against your own so passionately, you couldn’t see how he’d pull away now. Especially not when you’ve got fistful of his Hellfire club shirt in your hands to prevent him from doing so.

Nonetheless, he pulls away much to your chagrin. The faint reminder of his lips against yours still felt by you in the span of a millisecond. You wish that feeling could linger forever.

He stares down at you, examining the look on your face. It’s your turn to hold him still against you, your nails burrowing in his exposed lower back.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie begins as if in a trance.

“Yes…Eddie.”

“I think…that I—”

The swinging of the creaky, trailer door is enough to lurch you both apart, sitting in your designated seats on the couch. Uncle Wayne enters the room with a hand over one eye and an outstretched hand to guide himself into the home.

“All clear?” He asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “All clear, Waydog. We’ve been good.”

Wayne opens his eyes slowly, his gaze landing on you on the couch. He perks up with a bright smile. “Oh, y/n, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I was actually worried I was going to walk into Eddie watching—“

“Dude!” Eddie interrupts, staring at his uncle in incredulous betrayal.

“Aw come on. I kid, I kid. You know that’s what we Munson men do. She’s used to that by now.” Wayne chuckles, placing some bags of grocery on the counter.

You giggle, soothing Eddie’s hair as way of ensuring him that it’s okay. Going over to the kitchen, you and Eddie help Wayne unload the groceries when Wayne notices the crochet bands around his nephew’s wrists.

“Those look neat! You think you could make me a pair?” Wayne asks you with hopeful eyes.

“Of course! And don’t you worry, I’ll even get them to match the beanie hat I’m still making for you.” You beam.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute. He gets a matching hat?” Eddie inquires with a pout.

“Oh, like you haven’t stolen the first hat she’s made me.” Wayne chuckles.

“I didn’t steal. I borrowed.”

“For 4 whole months?”

“There isn’t a time limit for borrowing something. If there is, I’d like to see the rule.” Eddie challenges.

“I think you’re just jealous of us,” Wayne says, standing beside you with you nodding in agreement. “Why else would you take my gifts if not to have them all to yourself?”

“My girlfriend and my uncle in alliance against me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Didn’t think I’d see the day coming so soon.”

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rendezvouz-fling · 1 year

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Astro Observations #19

• I’ve noticed a pattern with Air and Earth risings and their dads not physically being there in their lives or being away for long periods of time and staying for shorter periods of time.

• People with Gemini rising and mercury at Leo degrees (5, 17, 29) or with their 3rd house in Leo tend to be very animated, expressive storytellers and are great at mimicking others! If they’re into singing then they might be good at imitating the original singer of that song’s voice.

• They’re also good at making impressions of other people.😂 Same goes for Leo rising with mercury in Gemini degrees (3, 15, 27) or people with their 5H in Gemini!✨

• Another thing about people with Leo in their 3H is that they WILL be over the top or dramatic when they see fit!! I have this placement and I literally pretended to faint when I saw my mom about to hit me while holding the pan she was washing with her other hand when I was a kid.🤣

• Capricorn moon kids aren’t the mini adults I see a lot of people stereotyping especially when they have Air/Fire in their charts. 🧐 Yes they might become very responsible as kids but they can also be the loud charming ones with the funniest laughs!😂

• Most 70s music/dance show hosts had prominent Scorpio/Libra placements with a dash of Aquarius energy! E.g. Dick Clark a 70s/80s show host from American Bandstand was a Scorpio moon/venus/rising & his sun was at 7 (Libra) degree while his rising was at 11 (Aquarius) degree!! And Don Cornelius the creator and show host of Soul Train throughout 3 decades was a Libra sun/mercury/venus with an Aquarius moon at 20 (Scorpio) degree!!🤎

• They also had inner planets at 28 degree!✨

• I’ve noticed some people with Fire venuses don’t get along with their dads that much, some of them had more of the ‘tough love’ type fathers.

• The reason most air moons seem to be emotionally aloof especially Aquarius moons, is because at some point in their lives they might’ve been shown that the only way to get by is by intellect and logic. They might’ve also been told as kids that they’re being too emotional and to stop crying/being upset.

• Another is because they’ve adapted to bottling up their emotions all the time that they might not know a way to express them openly and might just internalize it.

• Earth mars artists from the late 70s/early 80s were your go-to, classic R&B artists!! E.g. Patrice Rushen, Bobby DeBarge from Switch & Teena Marie are all Capricorn mars. Tommy DeBarge from Switch, Rick James and Donna Summer were all Virgo mars. Bunny DeBarge from DeBarge & Wayne Cooper from Cameo are both Taurus mars. 🍂

• If you feel like some placements in your composite don’t really add up with your relationship then check your Davison chart because I promise it’ll feel more accurate!

• Gemini suns with Sagittarius moons are very talkative and seem so feisty!😭

• Saturn doms have very attractive/prominent body shapes!

• Aquarius suns with Aquarius mercuries are funny without trying. ✋🏽😂

• Pisces suns with Aquarius mercuries and Aries venuses be literally taking the words out my mouth and say some of the meanest things!🤣

• Aries mercuries will literally say mean things before laughing and then hit you with the “What? It’s true.”😭🤣

• Fire mars men are built different!😭 Their height/weight might often trick people into thinking they’re soft but they are SO strong.

• Venus doms, how does it feel to get more beautiful every day?

• Mercurial risings kill me!😭 Virgo risings have a hilarious sometimes dry or more introverted humor while Gemini risings can be all over the place cracking jokes and exaggerating things lol.

• What’s with 5H suns and having a thing for verbal expressions. They’re literally the types to imitate a sound track when they’re explaining things.😭😭😭

• Some Gemini risings tend to have a signature laugh or people might point out/compliment their laughter often.

• They might also have them crazy laughs too and you’ll notice it specifically when you get close to them.🤣

• That one Aquarius moon family member 🤝 every other family member always going to them when they have problems with their technology or doing something online.

• Aries venus is that one cousin that will be spontaneous and very funny when you’re both good but will mean mug and say hurtful things to you/about you when you’re not on good terms anymore.😭

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darkcircles4lyfe · 8 months

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Behind the locked door

In honor of Izuku’s mask disintegrating into rubble, I think it’s finally time for me to really dig deep into his character. I’ve been keeping this one in my back pocket for a while. Amid all the talk about Izuku’s fading narration, the “control your heart” subplot, I’ve been trying to find the words to articulate how I know exactly where this is going, at least on a certain level. Most recently, I read this meta from pika who brings up how the word “control” alone can be misconstrued (by us). And then I thought about how a while back I made a similar point, although I said Izuku was the one who got it wrong. At that time, I was holding back a huge piece of evidence because it was external to the story and I wasn’t sure it would be received well. As a result, my argument fell a little flat. Well, now—after 411, right before leaks for 412—it might be my last chance to play this card.

So about that external evidence. I struggle to bring it up because it’s gonna sound an awful lot like I’m projecting onto Izuku if I don’t do it justice. But… I look at the way his storyline has been going lately and I see a pattern emerging that I’m very familiar with. Fortunately, I don’t have to dump a bunch of personal junk on you in order to illustrate this pattern, because a certain personality typing system already has it all figured out: the Enneagram.

Now, hang on. I’m not one to put people in boxes. My trans ass? I managed to get a different result every time I retook the P0ttermore quiz. MBTI, zodiacs—not my thing. But the Enneagram comes the closest I’ve ever seen to covering all the bases and revealing actually meaningful insight, at least for myself. On top of that, I find it extremely useful for fleshing out fictional characters, hence this post will be taking advantage of that.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, here’s a quick overview: The Enneagram consists of 9 individual personality types, each arranged carefully in a sequential, circular manner. They are also simply named 1 through 9. While this might seem kinda basic, there is actually a surprising amount of nuance and fluidity involved. Typing is done largely through personal introspection (you don’t really have to take a test). Adjacent numbers share some core themes with each other, and according to a web of arrows between them, one type can take on either positive or negative traits associated with other types depending on how emotionally ‘healthy’ they are, causing a lengthy spectrum of different ways each type can manifest. That part gets kinda complicated to explain here, so for more info, the Enneagram Institute website is a decent place to start. I also highly recommend the Enneagram album by Sleeping At Last (and if you really want to dedicate some time, the accompanying podcast) to really get inside the heads of the types on a deeper level.

My interest in applying the Enneagram to Izuku comes from observing how differently one can interpret his character based on whether you read him as a 2 or a 9. And even though no one uses this language to talk about him, the distinction accounts for a bunch of different rifts in the fandom: whether you appreciate bkdk’s relationship, whether you can acknowledge Izuku’s flaws and weaknesses, the severity of his vigilante/rogue phase, and most importantly the gravity of his concealed heart, his rage, and what it all means—what he needs in order to grow and triumph.

Discussion of Enneagram types in the fandom is pretty scarce, but where it exists, I have only seen him labeled as a 2. Type 9 and type 2 can be similar at a glance in a lot of ways (actually, 9s can be mistaken for any type because they are like all of them combined). It’s easy to see Izuku as a 2 because he is the helping hero archetype. He puts others’ needs above his own and he is always ready and eager to help. If you listen to Sleeping At Last’s song for 2, you’ll notice that it’s all about care and noble sacrifice with the underlying theme of neglecting or even harming oneself: “I just want to build you up, until your good as new, and maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too.” Sounds pretty obvious, right? Well, here’s the thing. You really get to know what your type is by how it hits you where it hurts, so I like to focus on each type’s basic fear and basic desire, first and foremost, as a tell. A 2′s basic fear is of being worthless and unloved. Consequently, their most basic desire is to be loved. And 2s have been taught through their negative experiences that love is conditional, something they have to earn from others. They need to be needed. So let’s say you think Izuku is a 2. This means you consider his heroic, self-sacrificing tendencies to be a result of his growing up quirkless and being told he is worthless and powerless because of it. Through this lens, he is trying to prove himself to the world by being useful. Along these lines, you may also assume he is trying to prove himself to Katsuki. Taking this train of thought even further, you may interpret Izuku’s relationship with Katsuki as an obsession of his, where he is either blind to Katsuki’s more negative traits in favor of gaining his love and praise, or else bitterly determined to prove him wrong. This is how a 2 might behave in an unhealthy relationship with an 8, which, yes, I do think Katsuki is an 8. That’s a tangent for another time, though.

But does Izuku ever “need to be needed?” It’s worth noting that while 2s’ search for validation might seem insincere, it is actually motivated by a deep, heartbreaking insecurity. They think they don’t even deserve love unless they are useful to someone, so they do everything they can to be worthy. Does Izuku show signs of this motivation?

If I stop to think about it, I can’t exactly see this in Izuku’s character. Yeah, his dream is to be a hero, and in his childhood, he was denied that dream. However I think we need to take a step back from that for a second if we want to dig deep. I mean, a lot of the other characters also behave heroically, act selflessly, and strive to help. Does that mean all of them are 2s as well? Of course not. So let’s instead turn to observe how Izuku acts with his loved ones, friends, and peers in other/adjacent contexts:

Inko: He is committed to protecting his mother from fearing for his safety. He wants to be good enough to not cause her to worry, rather than good enough to make her proud or make her love him. Idk about his father but at this point I think it’s safe to assume he is deeply unimportant.

All Might: I would describe their relationship as one of mutual responsibility. Izuku feels a responsibility to uphold All Might’s legacy, All Might feels a responsibility to teach him well. Because of this mutuality, I don’t think it quite makes sense to say Izuku deliberately seeks approval for its own sake. You know what I mean? They may be a mentor and a pupil but in practice they are almost more like co-conspirators. They don’t really have a power dynamic going on.

Shouto, Tenya, other friends: Izuku seems to take an interest in what makes his friends tick, and he sets himself aside in order to both analytically and intuitively determine what’s wrong and how to solve it. Examples include his fight against Shouto in the sports festival, and his stubborn concern for Tenya’s reaction to his brother’s forced retirement. He will put himself in the line of fire specifically when confronted with another person’s inner demons. This is not a labor that is asked of professional heroes, it’s just who Izuku is. You can also extend this observation to how he sees through Tomura to Tenko, but I’ll get to that later. Basically, while 2s seek to help in all kinds of ways, a 9’s strategy is always centered on the realm of the mind.

Kota: Adjacent to the paragraph above, before Izuku literally gets into a position where he needs to save Kota, he becomes interested in the boy’s point of view out of genuine curiosity. He doesn’t go “oh no, this kid doesn’t like heroes, I better get him to like heroes.” Instead he seeks out information as to why he thinks that way, and patiently listens. He’s sorry about what happened to Kota, and he understands. Twice (ch 71 and 72), he recognizes the fact that everyone has their own point of view on quirks, and he can’t really do anything about that.

Mirio: This might be one of the most telling examples. Mirio is the platonic ideal of an All Might successor. He’s “perfect.” He even looks the part. While this initially makes Izuku uncomfortable, he doesn’t become insecure and defensive over it. On the contrary, he easily comes to the conclusion that actually, Mirio should have One for All. Just like that (ch 172). If Mirio hadn’t dismissed the “hypothetical,” he probably would have gone through with giving it to him. That’s not how a 2 would respond. A 2 would double down and aim to be better than Mirio by trying to establish some relationship of need, fueled by the insecurity. Their shared subplot with Eri would have looked pretty different, I think.

Katsuki: I’ve mentioned before that I believe their rivalry only exists because Katsuki put it there. First of all, we can see that after the sludge villain incident, Izuku weirdly takes Katsuki’s dismissal of Izuku’s help as practical advice. Like, “oh yeah, I guess what I did was pretty stupid and dangerous, and I’m not cut out for this hero stuff. Now I can move on and find a realistic career.” Hello?? He accepted that so easily. So Izuku clearly isn’t motivated by a desire to prove himself to Katsuki. Even when he proclaims he’s going to surpass him, it’s like he’s happily mimicking Katsuki, not reacting based on insecurity or pride. Izuku is content to meet Katsuki wherever he is, and he’s satisfied with whatever kind of relationship they are able to have, including a rivalry, so he isn’t vying for his affection either. We can observe this when he gives up the role of reaching out a hand to save Katsuki to Kirishima, and also when he thinks about how “blessed” he is to even have a normal conversation with Katsuki. He doesn’t push things. It’s also stated in Deku vs. Kacchan 2 that Izuku doesn’t excuse or overlook Katsuki’s “bad side” but still admires him for his other traits. This is not at all characteristic of a toxic 2x8 relationship.

When 2s are at their very worst or pushed into unhealthy situations, they tend to become more needy and self-centered, even downright manipulative. But at Izuku’s worst, when he went rogue, he pushed everyone away to avoid being a burden. When the refugees at UA tried to prevent him from returning, he was like, “you’re right” and would have turned back immediately if not for his friends, loved ones, and other people who care about him telling him it was all okay. Meanwhile, Katsuki, in true 8 fashion, was pissed off at being rejected and having to deal with Izuku’s stubborn and evasive side (oh yeah, have I mentioned 9s are actually stubborn as hell?), but he made sure to establish that they are (he is) here to step in when Izuku can’t handle things by himself. Katsuki even opened up and admitted to his own weaknesses to show why mutual support is so important. Tbh, a lot of the above can be construed as just super healthy type 2 behavior, but not this. The way Izuku acts at his lowest, and his dynamic with Katsuki? Totally different. Dead giveaway for a 9.

Let’s get into the type 9 itself in more detail to show how it applies to Izuku more deeply—seriously, it’s beat for beat. One of the key differences is, while 2s seek validation, 9s are actually resigned to the belief that they aren’t important. Similar to 2s, a 9′s basic fear is of separation, but their basic desire is actually just peace or harmony rather than love. Notice how these motivations are just like a 2’s, except they have the “self” part taken out. With that in mind, they “achieve” their basic desire through selflessness in and of itself, without the need for recognition. That’s not to say that 9s are better than 2s. In fact, a 9 can be worse, in a way. If unhealthy, they will seek peace at almost any cost to themselves. In other words, they can be more self-destructive while still under the impression that they are doing just fine. “Peace” may refer to the expression of empathy, fulfilling the needs of others, sheltering someone, or mediating a fight—but also to repressing their own opinions and needs, not “rocking the boat,” ignoring negative emotions, or becoming a vessel for someone else to vent to.

What about inner peace? 9s value serenity, and thus they have a complicated relationship with the most tumultuous of emotions: anger. On the surface, 9s look like the type that is extremely slow to anger and highly tolerant. However, as much as they would like to believe this about themselves too, deep down, 9s are afraid of what might happen if they lose control. My phrase for it is this: I feel like a bottled tornado. Personally, I also think of anger as a basic desire to make others feel your pain—not necessarily sadistically, but in an effort to be known, to be understood. The difficult thing to grasp, especially for a 9, is that this is NOT inherently a bad thing. It isn’t wrong to seek sympathy. On the contrary, it is harmful to tell yourself that getting angry is wrong, because it’s like telling yourself that your pain is wrong, your pain doesn’t matter.

The problem is it doesn’t stop there. A 9, in shutting down their anger, ends up with such a low opinion of their own heart, their other emotions dull along with it. They cry less, laugh less, love less. It’s often said that they “fall asleep” to themselves. It all starts with anger. It’s interesting to note how different this whole mindset is from toxic masculinity—where men only feel allowed/able to express emotions through anger. This is sorta like the opposite. Anger becomes the dam rather than the river. For Izuku, I want us to consider that his suppression of anger carries with it the implication that he is hiding other things, too. It’s a given. There’s a whole sea of feelings out there, and we can only see the waves hitting the shore. This brings me to the whole “control your heart” thing. I do think it is worth mentioning that Banjou didn’t just tell Izuku to exercise control. He also told him that his anger could be useful if it is harnessed. With this added context, “control” here means “to master.” And Izuku seemed to grasp this concept… sorta. I think that if Izuku is like a 9, we can assume he has trouble understanding how anger could be a worthy source of strength. His emotions in relation to Katsuki feel more like a weakness to him, a character flaw in a hero, who is supposed to be detached and selfless. But he’s trying to understand, even though he’s afraid of it. He essentially applied the same strategy he used for mastering OFA itself: incremental strength training. Which, okay. Take a moment to absorb how odd that is, in relation to emotions, specifically. Does one learn to cry incrementally? Does one learn to use anger by bottling a fucking tornado?? Like, what, you think you’re gonna be able to let out juuust the right amount of air to avoid an explosion??? No, man… if you want to be the master of your emotions you have to be willing to sit with them. Confront them. Listen to them. Take them in completely and accept them as a part of yourself.

For someone like Izuku, though, it is very difficult to imagine how this is even possible. Tomura, as with every villain, can be used to reflect his hero counterpart’s greatest fear about himself. Tomura literally touches everyone and everything with his rage, and as a physical manifestation of that desire to pass his own pain onto others, destruction radiates from his fingertips. Thus, losing control in this manner must be Izuku’s worst nightmare, as if he would be completely unable to stop the collateral damage like an infinite line of dominoes. But his anger is not something he can overcome, as such.

An overarching theme in this heroes vs. villains conflict is that the villains are not merely obstacles to be overcome. Just think back to Himiko’s bitter rejection of the heroic sense of superiority. She demanded not to be pitied, condescended to, or lied to. Likewise, the answer cannot be that Izuku needs to restrain himself where Tomura doesn’t. What purpose would it serve to show that Izuku is better than him? Certainly not saving Tomura. If this was a battle against AFO, it might have been a different story. In that case, Izuku would have to overcome his emotional manipulation tactics. Tomura, on the other hand, is not so strategic. With his strangely childlike tendencies, he must relish making Izuku mad because it brings them closer to the same wavelength. It’s his own twisted way or seeking sympathy, or at least, the closest thing to sympathy he can get anymore, because he believes he is beyond saving. With that in mind, Izuku isn’t going to get anywhere unless he rises to meet him. Izuku has to match Tomura’s hatred with equally strong emotions of his own, whatever they may be, or else face the loss of OFA (as established in 305). This is not an easy thing to ask of a 9, once they have started to pull the blood from their extremities, become cold and numb. Bringing back circulation is painful and makes the skin crawl.

In case you’re worried about the focus on anger here, I want to reiterate that concealed anger in a 9 is just one sign of so much more. Back when everyone started fretting about Izuku’s habit of self-sacrifice, which would have been the only thing we need to worry about if he were a 2, I was freaking out because Izuku was also starting to look like a person who has too many secrets. You don’t even have to acknowledge the possibility that he lied about what triggered blackwhip. It’s written all over his face all the time these days. It’s especially noticeable when you contrast him with Katsuki after all his own growth. Katsuki confides in people. He acknowledges his weaknesses. He enjoys being himself. He asserts his place. He thinks about Izuku all the damn time and now he even lets himself be soft about it. All this warmth while Izuku is distant, muted, and blank. I know all too well what this state of mind is like. Man, I hate secrets. You get to the point where you don’t know how to talk about even the simplest most inconsequential shit. And the bigger things? They’re like a growing snowball of words in your throat that cannot possibly fit out of your mouth. The “easiest” way to cope is to simply fade into the rhythm of life. Go with the flow.

Since 9s have a natural curiosity about the interiority of other people, they may choose to focus on that in order to divert their own attention away from themselves. Taken to the extreme, they will lose track of their sense of self. Like I said, you can see Izuku doing this as he fights, analyzing the psyche of his opponent, and his match against Shouto in the sports festival was a fantastic early example. They became friends because of how observant Izuku is. His emotional intelligence and intuition are very strong, but gradually, as he has taken on greater responsibilities and experienced more trauma, he has gotten worse at applying these skills to himself. You know, we go on and on about how his narration has been reduced to nearly nothing, and it’s not just an absence of introspection, it’s an absence of self. It creates a lack of ownership over the narrative—what should be his narrative.

Right now, he’s focusing on trying to see Tomura as a person, figuring him out. I think it would be really satisfyingly ironic if in the process, he ends up uncovering insights about himself instead. It’s about time we learn what Izuku’s secrets are. I don’t actually think that Izuku mastering anger will constitute the emotion that is strong enough to keep Tomura from taking OFA. Moreover, he can’t expect to reach Tomura’s core, Tenko, unless he exposes his own. Rather, anger is the conduit for Izuku to unlock something else. Think of the way he described how Katsuki is his image of victory. The feeling manifests when he asserts a stronger sense of self (the urge to win) and he becomes more free with his words. I have no doubt that Tomura has the power to make unfiltered honesty spill out of him. He knows how to bring out his selfish needs, his pain, his pressure points, his fears, his insecurities. Hell, maybe Mt. Fuji erupting is a metaphor. I want to see Izuku explode while Tomura watches with mad glee. But then I want Izuku to Realize Things such that it finally sets him free. Then, instead of Tomura witnessing yet another person he touches fall apart, he gets to see someone become whole.

"I let the scale tip, feel all of it. It's uncomfortable but right. And we were born to try to see each other through. To know and love ourselves and others well is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do." --Sleeping At Last, 'Nine'

#you are very much welcome to send me asks about this and the enneagram etc because it's very fun to talk about!#bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 411 #bnha 412 #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #character analysis #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk #lin speaks

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