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aasouthteranoswife · 1 month ago

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Gym Dynamics

Summary: The volatile relationship between you and Sukuna Ryomen continues to intensify as emotions become more tangled with each passing day. With the news of your pregnancy, the connection between you two shifts from chaotic passion to something deeper and more complicated. Despite the friction and your attempts to pull away, Sukuna remains a constant presence, and his words and actions reveal a commitment that you didn’t expect. The push and pull of desire, uncertainty, and raw emotion forces you both into a new reality—one neither of you can escape.

Warning(s): Toxic relationship dynamics, Dominance, manipulation, emotional conflict, power struggles, Intense physical and emotional intimacy, including P and V penetration, the reader becomes pregnant, emotional tension, themes of fear, uncertainty, and deep emotional conflict in a complex, evolving relationship, physicality and forceful behavior, moments of rough interactions, dominance, and aggressive desire.

Word count: 5205

A/N: I went overboard with Sukuna, I'm completely hyper-fixated on this man right now.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Reblog’s and feedback are appreciated

The gym lights were dim, casting long shadows over the mats and the iron cages lining the walls. It was late, nearly everyone had left, but you were still there, working on your strikes. The rhythmic thud of your gloves hitting the heavy punching bag filled the air, drowning out the lingering silence.

You were so focused you didn’t notice him enter.

“Your form’s sloppy,” came his low, gravelly voice from behind you.

You froze mid-punch, already bristling at the tone. Slowly, you turned to face Sukuna Ryomen . He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes were dark, sharp, and unrelenting as they scanned you from head to toe.

“What do you want, Sukuna?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your brow, trying to sound unaffected.

“To teach you how not to embarrass yourself,” he said bluntly, pushing off the wall and striding toward you. His presence was overwhelming, his sheer size and confidence making the air feel heavier with every step he took.

You glared up at him, your hands tightening into fists. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

His smirk widened. “You don’t have to. You clearly need it.” Without waiting for permission, he stepped behind you, large hands gripping your wrists and forcing your arms into position. His chest pressed against your back, the heat of his body seeping into you.

“Sukuna—”

“Shut up,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “You’ll listen if you want to get better.”

The words were humiliating, but the way his hands moved—firm, decisive—left you breathless. He guided your movements, correcting your stance with an unrelenting grip.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Relax. Or is being this close to me making you nervous?”

You swallowed hard, heat rising to your face. “You wish.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to your waist, holding you in place as he corrected the angle of your hips. The touch lingered longer than it should have, possessive and unapologetic.

“You’re stubborn,” he said, his tone dropping lower. “But that’s fine. I like breaking people like you.”

You stiffened, turning your head to glare at him. “You think you can break me?”

“I know I can,” he said simply, his smirk turning into something darker. “You act tough, but I see it. You like it when I put you in your place.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how your body betrayed you. Your breathing hitched as his fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer until you were trapped against him, feeling how hard he’s gotten.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smugness. “You like this.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying to twist away. But he didn’t let you go.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue,” he said, his grip unyielding. “But all it tells me is how badly you want me to shut you up with my cock.”

Your defiance faltered, your silence giving him the upper hand he clearly craved.

“Thought so,” he said, his smirk widening. He released you, pushing you into the punching bag, leaving you feeling off-balance, both physically and emotionally.

“Next time you want to pretend you’re my equal,” he said, walking away with a casual wave of his hand, “try not to look so desperate for my attention.”

His words stung, but the worst part was the truth behind them—you did want his attention, even when it came with his arrogance, his dominance, his maddening control. And he knew it.

The following day, the tension between you and Sukuna lingered, thick and suffocating. He had taken up residence in your mind like an uninvited guest, his words from the night before replaying on a loop: You like it when I put you in your place. Feeling how hard he was that night.

You hated him for it—his arrogance, his cockiness, the way he made you feel small yet so painfully alive at the same time. But what you hated most was the fact that he was right.

You couldn’t stay away.

The gym was empty again, late enough that no one else would bother showing up. You told yourself you wanted solitude, but deep down, you knew better. And sure enough, the moment you stepped into the training area, there he was—Sukuna, leaning against the ropes of the sparring ring as if he’d been waiting for you.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” he called out, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snapped, setting your bag down and avoiding his gaze.

He climbed into the ring, watching you with the predatory intensity that made your skin prickle. “Get up here,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

You hesitated. “Why?”

“Because I said so.” His eyes locked onto yours, daring you to defy him.

You clenched your fists, your pride warring with something darker. Slowly, you climbed into the ring, trying to keep your composure.

“What now?” you asked, folding your arms.

He smirked, stepping closer until he was towering over you. “We settle this. You’ve got something to prove, don’t you?”

Your heart raced as you nodded, stepping into your stance.

The sparring match was brutal, every move charged with aggression and something unspoken. Sukuna didn’t hold back, his strikes calculated and relentless. You gave as good as you got, but every time you thought you had the upper hand, he would counter effortlessly, knocking you off balance into the rope.

Finally, he pinned you to the mat, his weight pressing down on you. Your wrists were trapped in one of his hands, your breath coming in short, furious gasps.

“Give up,” he growled, his face inches from yours.

“Never,” you spat, struggling against him.

His grip tightened, and for a moment, the fight left you completely. You were too aware of his strength, his control, the way his eyes burned into yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost mocking. “You’re stubborn. And that’s going to get you hurt.”

“Maybe I like it rough,” you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

His smirk returned, darker this time. “Is that what this is about?” he asked, his tone almost amused. “You picking fights with me because you want my attention?”

You didn’t answer, but your silence was enough. His expression shifted, satisfaction flickering across his face as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You should’ve just asked, sweetheart,” he murmured. Giving out a quick kiss on your lips.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as he lingered there, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. But just as quickly as he’d leaned in, he pulled back, releasing your wrists and standing over you with an air of complete control.

“You’re not ready for me,” he said, his voice cold and final as he stepped away.

You sat up, glaring after him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Making eye contact with his hardened cock in his pants.

“It means,” he said, pausing at the edge of the ring, “you’re out of your depth. But if you ever grow up and stop playing games, maybe I’ll give you what you want.” Pointing at his hardened cock.

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you a hot mess to deal with later.

It had been days since the sparring match, but the memory of Sukuna Ryomen pinning you to the mat hadn’t left your mind. His words, his touch, how he looked at you as if he could see straight through every layer of your defenses lingered like a bad habit you couldn’t shake.

You hated him.

And you wanted him.

So when he showed up at your apartment door late that night, you weren’t sure whether you were surprised or if some part of you had been expecting this all along.

“You are going to let me in, or are you going to stand there pretending you didn’t want this?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. His voice was low, almost a growl, and the way he looked at you—hungry, unrelenting—made your knees weak.

You opened the door without a word, stepping aside as he sauntered in. He didn’t waste any time, turning to face you as you shut the door behind him.

“What are you doing here, Sukuna?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I think you know,” he said simply, his eyes raking over you in a way that made the heat pool low in your stomach. “You’ve been asking for this since the moment we met.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, closing the distance between you in one swift step. His hand shot out, gripping your throat and forcing you to look up at him. “You like to act tough, but I see right through you. You want someone to put you in your place.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding. You should’ve pushed him away, told him to leave—but you didn’t. You placed your hands on his muscular chest.

Instead, you whispered, “And what if I do?”

His smirk was slow, deliberate, and devastating. “Then I’ll give you what you’ve been begging for.”

The words barely had time to register before his lips crashed against yours, fierce and unrelenting. It wasn’t a kiss—it was a claim, a battle, a searing clash of dominance and submission. His hands were everywhere, rough and demanding as they roamed your body, pulling you against him.

“You’re mine tonight,” he growled against your lips, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t resist as he pushed you backward, guiding you toward your bedroom with an urgency that left no room for hesitation, clothes came off left and right. The moment you hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his weight pinning you down just like he had in the ring.

“Still think you can handle me?” he taunted, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“I can take whatever you give me,” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of defiance and anticipation.

His laugh was dark, almost dangerous. “We’ll see about that.” as he pinched one of your nipples.

Sukuna got down to his knees spreading your legs wide open to find your pussy already wet for him. He gave your pussy a hot wet kiss before sucking and licking on your bundle of nerves as he looked up at you with those red eyes.

His hands roamed up your stomach and to your breast feeling your hardened nipples tweaking them. Making you moan out just for him.

“Pretty little pussy you have,” he murmured into your pussy. Your juices coated his face. He rose to his full height, his hands gripping your legs to keep them spread wide for him.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning you in a mating press as he slowly eased the tip of his cock inside you, making you gasp from the sensation of how big he was compared to your exes, before inching deeper with a steady, deliberate rhythm.

As soon as he was fully inside you, he guided your gaze down to the bulge beneath your skin.

“‘Such a good girl, taking all of me,” he murmured, before pressing a sloppy, passionate kiss to your lips. Rubbing your clit as he started to move his hips back and forth.

What followed was a blur of heat and intensity, his dominance undeniable as he took control. Every touch, every move, and postion, and every word was designed to push you to your limits, to remind you who was in charge. He didn’t just take you—he overwhelmed you, consumed you, leaving no part of you untouched or unclaimed. He fucked so good making you cum twice.

And you hated how much you loved it.

“You look good under me,” he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “All that fire, all that attitude—gone. This is what you needed, isn’t it? To be fucked so good you forgot.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but hold onto him as he pushed you further and further into oblivion. Making tears fall down your temples and into your messy hair making you cum for the third time.

By the time it was over, you were spent, your body trembling as he cummed inside you. He lay beside you, his breathing heavy, his smirk still firmly in place.

“You’re dangerous,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

“So are you,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement. “That’s why you like me.”

You turned your head to glare at him, but the look in his eyes—dark, satisfied, and entirely too pleased with himself—made you bite your tongue.

Because he was right. You did like him. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

The morning after was quiet—too quiet.

You woke up with sore muscles, hickies, and bruised ego, tangled in sheets that smelled like him. Sukuna was still there, sprawled across your bed like he owned it, his unharden cock on display from the sheets coming down overnight, the light from the window catching the tattoos that marked his skin.

You hated how calm he looked, how completely unaffected, while you were left replaying the events of the night before in your mind.

It wasn’t just the sex—it was the way he had unraveled you, taken apart every wall you’d built, and left you raw and exposed. You hated him for it. And worse, you hated yourself for wanting him to do it again.

You moved quietly, slipping out of bed and pulling on the first clothes you could find. Maybe if you left before he woke up, you could regain some sense of control. But as you reached for the door, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Running away already?”

You froze, your hand on the doorknob, before slowly turning to face him. He was sitting up now, his dick still on display, leaning back on his elbows, his gaze sharp and entirely too smug.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady.

He laughed, low and lazy, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why?” he asked, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing in one fluid motion. He stalked toward you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. “You don’t like it? Or do you like it too much?”

You stepped back, only to hit the wall. He loomed over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in. Trying not to look at his fully naked frame.

“I’m not some toy for you to mess with, Sukuna,” you said, trying to sound firm.

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “No, you’re not. But you keep coming back for more, don’t you? You could’ve kicked me out last night, but you didn’t. You could’ve left just now, but you didn’t. So tell me—what do you want?”

His words cut deep because they were true. You didn’t know how to answer him, and he could see it in your eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. The tenderness was jarring, a stark contrast to the roughness from the night before, and it made your chest tighten.

“You’re dangerous,” you whispered, echoing your words from the night before.

“And you love it,” he replied, his lips brushing against your ear.

Before you could respond, he pulled back, giving you just enough space to breathe but not enough to escape.

“This thing between us,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious, “it’s not going to end well. You know that, right?”

You nodded because you did know. But that didn’t stop you from wanting him, from craving the chaos he brought into your life.

“Good,” he said, stepping back and heading toward the door. He pulled on his pants and slung his shirt over his shoulder as he turned to look at you one last time. “I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the silence he always seemed to fill so easily.

But you knew it wasn’t over. Not even close.

The next few weeks were a blur of fights and passion, a constant push and pull between you and Sukuna. He’d show up when you least expected it, dragging you into his orbit and reminding you why you couldn’t stay away.

Sometimes, he was cruel, pushing you to your breaking point with cutting words and a smirk that made you want to scream. Other times, he was gentle, whispering things you didn’t know whether to believe as he held you close. And every time, you swore it would be the last. But it never was.

Then one night, after a particularly heated fight at the gym, he cornered you in the locker room, his expression unreadable.

“You keep fucking pushing me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Why?”

“Because you push me,” you shot back, refusing to back down.

He stepped closer, his eyes boring into yours. “That’s how this works. You fight, I fight back. But don’t think for a second you can win.”

“What if I don’t want to win?” you whispered, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

His smirk returned, but this time it was softer, almost… affectionate.

“Then we’re going to burn together,” he said, his lips brushing against yours.

And you knew he was right. Whatever this was between you, it was dangerous, consuming, and entirely unsustainable. But as his hands gripped your waist and pulled you against him, you realized you didn’t care.

Because with Sukuna, destruction had never felt so good. You fucked each other that day, letting everything unravel as if it meant nothing

A few weeks later, the consequences of those several nights began to show themselves.

The nausea was subtle at first—just an occasional wave of dizziness, a slight aversion to certain foods. But soon, it became undeniable. You found yourself avoiding things you once enjoyed, your body aching in ways it hadn’t before. You tried to ignore it, but the signs were too loud to be dismissed.

You took the test on a whim, a fleeting moment of panic pushing you toward it. When the results came back positive, your heart sank. The weight of it hit you like a freight train. You were carrying Sukuna Ryomen’s child.

The news shouldn’t have shocked you. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? After everything—after the fighting, the passion, the constant push and pull—you couldn’t imagine anything else. Still, the gravity of it made you hesitate, standing in the middle of your bathroom, staring at the little pink lines. You cried.

And just as you feared, Sukuna was there when you needed him the least.

He knocked on your door one night, appearing like a storm, his presence filling the room before you even opened it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw your pale face, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the test in your hand.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, barely above a breath, your voice shaking.

His gaze turned darker, his jaw tightening. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—he just stood there, staring at you like he was trying to read the situation.

“Is it mine?” he finally asked, his voice colder than you expected.

“Yes, it's yours you asshole,” you snapped, almost offended by the question.

A long pause stretched between you, thick with tension. Then his lips curled into that dangerous smirk. “Well, looks like we’re in this together now, huh?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And somehow, it only made the situation worse. Because you both knew—this would only add to the fire, this would only push you further down a path you were both too stubborn to walk away from.

The following weeks were a strange mix of anticipation and dread, each moment heavier than the last. The news of your pregnancy seemed to settle over both you and Sukuna like an inevitable storm, one neither of you could escape from. There were no talks about what this meant for either of you—just an unspoken understanding that things were about to change, but neither of you knew how.

Sukuna’s presence in your life grew even more consuming. He showed up unannounced, his smirk still there, but with something new in his eyes. Something deeper. Maybe it was the idea of a child, maybe it was the weight of the situation, but something shifted.

You tried to keep your distance, but it was nearly impossible. Every time you saw him, every time he touched you, the tension you tried to ignore was back in full force. Sometimes he would be tender, his hands grazing your skin with a strange gentleness, as if feeling the life growing inside you made him pause, if only for a moment. Other times, he was the same Sukuna—the dominant, almost cruel force that always pushed you to your breaking point.

But now, there was a new layer to the mix. The way he looked at you—possessive, hungry, but with something resembling protectiveness. It was unsettling.

One night, after another fight at the gym, the two of you ended up back at your place. Your skin was still buzzing from the confrontation, your mind clouded with emotions too complex to unravel. The words between you had been sharp, like always, but tonight was different. The atmosphere between you two crackled with something more than anger.

“You’re really going to keep fighting me on this, huh?” Sukuna’s voice was low, almost taunting. His hands were on your hips, pulling you closer, your small, still-growing baby bump pressed gently against his firm, muscular stomach.

“I’m not fighting you,” you shot back, trying to break free from his hold, though you didn’t try that hard. “But I’m not going to let you control me either.”

His eyes narrowed, lips curling into that familiar, dangerous smile. “Control you? You think this is about control?” His hand slid lower, his touch possessive, not aggressive but firm. He wasn’t asking for permission. “You’ve never been this stubborn before.”

You met his gaze, your body tense. “Maybe I’m tired of being your plaything,” you muttered, though the words felt hollow, like they didn’t even belong to you.

A dark laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “You’re far from that. You’re mine now, and you always will be.” His words were final, but there was no malice in his tone—just a raw honesty that unsettled you more than it should have.

Suddenly, his lips crashed against yours, and you forgot what you’d been about to say. His kiss was desperate, almost frantic, like he had no control over his own desire. You could feel the weight of everything pressing down between you—the pregnancy, the fight, the history of everything unspoken—and yet, it didn’t seem to matter.

The moment his hands slid beneath your shirt pinching your nipples, you froze for just a second, the reality of it all settling back in. But his fingers brushed over your skin with such intensity that you couldn’t help but respond.

You felt his breath against your neck, his lips soft against your skin. “We’re in this together now,” he repeated as if to remind you. “You’ve got no choice anymore.”

And you knew that—there was no escape. But part of you didn’t want one. Part of you was drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain, despite every warning bell ringing in your head.

He made you feel alive in a way no one else did.

Over the next few weeks, things continued in this strange limbo. The pregnancy became more visible, and Sukuna’s presence was more constant. His touch grew possessive, marking you in subtle ways as if claiming you even when you weren’t together. You found yourself torn between resentment and desire, hating the way he made you feel so powerless, yet longing for the way he took control.

One evening, as you sat on the couch, feeling the baby shift inside you, Sukuna walked in, his gaze immediately dropping to your stomach. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you, his expression unreadable.

“Does it feel real now?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You didn’t know how to answer. “It feels like a lot to handle.”

He nodded, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. His hand hovered over your bare stomach, but he didn’t touch you. “This thing between us, it’s never been simple, but it’s real now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

There it was again—that certainty in his voice. You felt the weight of it. “I’m not asking you to,” you whispered, your throat tight.

Sukuna took a breath, his hand finally resting gently on your belly, as if it was the only thing grounding him. “You and me, we’re gonna make this work. No matter what.”

For the first time, you believed him.

The weeks continued to drag on, and with each passing day, the tension between you and Sukuna became harder to ignore. Your pregnancy was no longer something you could hide—your body had changed, and so had the way you both navigated your connection. Every interaction with him was charged, thick with emotions that you couldn’t put into words.

Sukuna’s presence was overwhelming, always there in some form, whether it was him showing up unexpectedly or the constant weight of his gaze when you least expected it. There were moments when he seemed to be watching you closely, his eyes softened by something impossible to name. But in the next instant, the mask would drop, and he’d return to his usual forceful self, pushing, prodding, testing you in ways that made your chest ache.

One night, you were sitting at the kitchen table, absentmindedly stirring a cup of tea. You hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few nights, thoughts swirling around everything—the baby, your relationship with Sukuna, the undeniable chemistry that still simmered between you both.

The door creaked open, and Sukuna stepped into the kitchen, looking as if he’d just returned from a workout. His black t-shirt clung to his muscular frame, and his presence filled the room like a storm waiting to break. He didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes flicked to the teacup in your hand, then back to your face.

“Can’t sleep either?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it, as if he were both frustrated and intrigued by your quiet distance.

You shrugged, not sure how to explain the storm of emotions inside you. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, his voice shifting, now more guarded than curious. He crossed the room, his footsteps heavy but controlled. There was always a quiet danger about him when he was close.

“Everything,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “This… us. The baby. The future.”

Sukuna stood just a few steps away now, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you. “You’re scared.”

You didn’t say anything at first, but the truth hung in the air. “Yeah,” you admitted, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long.

Sukuna was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening, something darker flickering in his eyes. Then, without warning, he closed the space between you. His fingers brushed your cheek gently, and for a split second, you forgot the world outside the two of you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your lip. “No matter how much you push me away. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. There was something so raw in his voice—something real, unfiltered. It made your heart race, and for the first time in weeks, you felt something more than just the push and pull, more than the fire that had burned between you two.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of it. “Why don’t you just walk away?”

He smirked slightly, but there was no malice in it. “Because I’m not done with you. And neither are you with me.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him. His lips found yours in a kiss that was slow at first, as if he were testing the waters, feeling the change between you two. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate, as though he couldn’t stop himself. You didn’t want to stop him either.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against yours. “This is what we are, you and me,” he murmured, his voice low and serious. “We’re tangled up in this mess, and there’s no way out.”

He lifted your nightgown smoothly over your head, tossing it carelessly across the room.

You could feel the truth in his words, and for the first time, you weren’t sure you wanted to find a way out. Your body reacted instinctively, your hands finding his chest and pulling him closer. His movements were deliberate as he reached for the waistband of his pants, freeing his cock. With a firm grip on your hips, he lifted you slightly, aligning himself before slowly pushing inside, his length gliding in with effortless ease.

And there it was again—the electricity that sparked between you both, undeniable, unstoppable. The chaos and the passion you couldn’t control. But there was something more this time. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper. Something that connected you both in a way you didn’t quite understand.

He pulled back, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he continued to glid in and out of you. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, his voice softer now, almost reassuring. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out, together.”

As both of you reached your climax, Sukuna slumped back onto the seat, his chest heaving as he barely managed to keep a firm hold on you.

The way he said it felt like a promise, one you couldn’t quite break, no matter how much you wanted to. For once, you didn’t want to fight him. You didn’t want to push him away. Instead, you let yourself lean into him, feeling the heat between you, the connection that had only grown stronger with time.

And in that moment, you realized you were no longer just tangled in his world—you were part of it. You were happy.

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