#my love<333 i love when he's doing his thing <3

[joosthead]

agora hills || j.k. f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

₊˚⊹⋆ happy (late) birthday <3. part of normal au (previous parts here). set joost's birthday 2024 <3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader (she/her pronouns used). notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 7.3k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw(s): smut (established relationship, light exhibitionism, semi-public sex, remote control vibrator, slight aggu x reader, slight mention of m!receiving vibrator/assplay because i’m crazy, unprotected piv, creampie, customary joost fic drinking and smoking), normal au sappiness LETS GOOO

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “agora hills” by doja cat, “pressure” by martin garrix ft. tove lo, “shu madame” by ski aggu, “heaven” by mitski (literal direct quote from this song LOL) 

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator ! au of an au where skiklein isn’t divorced 🩷 lowkey this is a bit normal au worldbuilding heavy! as always thank you to @howisjoostfanfictionforfree <333 my creative partner in crime !! not edited oops

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

You shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

At least, you shouldn’t have let Joost place his around your shoulders on the way here—it’s his birthday, shouldn’t he be the one being taken care of? Either way, you’re holding his hand as he navigates you to the booth your friends are already at, tugging at the collar as you brush past so many people, an endless supply of warmth cloaking you from all sides. 

This would be fine any other November day in the Netherlands, so cold you contemplate moving somewhere warmer every year if not for your very proudly Dutch boyfriend keeping you here. 

But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

You teeter on high heels; Christian Louboutin So Kates that Joost bought you a while ago and loves, your legs are weak, not at the thin stilettos, but at the dull pulsing between your legs of the remote control egg vibrator nestled securely between them. You two brought it home one day from the sex shop nearest your house, bright pink and surprisingly high tech, an app used to control it through Bluetooth. Even on the lowest setting, it’s strong and steady, and you’re really trying to keep it together as it pushes against your g-spot with every step forward.

Joost pulls you next to him by the hand and puts his arm around you. “You are doing so amazing, mijn schat,” he says, kissing your temple as you squeeze in between people together, and you nod. 

“I better be.” 

“Much better than I did.”  

The policy is always this: you will never try something he wouldn’t try himself first. It’s only fair, considering the multitudes of ideas he has about things you two should try in (and out) of the bedroom. 

His turn: you lubing up your fingers and fingering him open, him slipping the vibrator inside himself, you impishly giggling about the app controls and how pretty it all looked when you knew he’d be destroyed in a matter of moments.  

It was only a week ago—taking a walk in the park near your house at 3 AM together so no one would see you, your hand and your phone in your coat pocket going from low to high, low to high as he gritted his teeth and walked alongside you. You set it the highest vibration pattern it could go—a minute later, he was collapsed on the ground. “Is he alright?” a passerby asked you, eyes alarmed at your sweet boyfriend lying face down and practically convulsing. 

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just weird,” you said, and you two shared a nod and they went along with their day. By the time you trudged back home, getting Joost to the edge and turning it off completely so he wouldn’t get any satisfaction, he was practically begging to be inside you. 

It’s your turn now, but you didn’t exactly expect it to be on the first club outing of the night of his birthday. You’d given Joost his presents earlier today—some boudoir photoshoot pictures you had done months ago, Christian Louboutin boots he’s wearing tonight, a belt buckle of the copyright symbol you found thrifting, some gacha capsules and trinkets you got in secret on your trip to Japan together, a long handwritten letter (5 pages!) waxing poetic about your small and beautiful life with him that he cried at when he read it over the breakfast you brought him this morning. 

There are more presents to be given later today, all planned and gift wrapped, but this one—all indulgence, no planning, no stipulations about how far he can go and when it’ll end for you. Joost asked you if you could do it when you were getting dressed together before this. Pretty black lingerie he got you on a trip to Paris, a dress he surprised you with from some big fashion house, helping you slip on the shoes he so kindly bought you when he asked you on his knees—”Please, schat, can I use it on you tonight?” and you couldn't resist that look on his face, those big blue eyes. 

“Very proud of you, mijn schat,” Joost yells over the music as you near your table. Everyone’s too distracted already to acknowledge you or your strangeness—Tantu and Joost dap each other up, but Ruby is off somewhere else; Appie and Alanis and Stuntje are doing a drinking game they’re very focused on; Aggu (Aggu???) and Marina (Aggu and Marina???) are talking with each other very intently, his arm on the back of the booth behind her. “Do you think you can get us some drinks?” 

You look back up at him, eyes wide. “By myself?” 

“It’s my birthday, baby. I wanna sit down.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him slip into the booth and turn away, annoyed and feeling faint already. The vibrator feels bigger than it looks, pulses harder than it already is; the pattern is periodic like an alarm clock. Once you're halfway to the bar, you look back to Joost and he’s on his phone and torturing you manually—you want to yell, want to scream. In agony, or pleasure? 

There’s so many people at the bar—so many of them you recognize from weekends upon weekends and term breaks after the other partying with Joost and your friends. Some of them you know better than others; Mia and Femke who do Joost’s makeup from time to time; Luuk (Luuk???) from work; Thijs and Enzo and Myron and Brunzyn and Donnie and Donny and oh, this is going to be really bad, isn’t it?

You bob and duck your head—hopefully no one recognizes you as you try and reach an empty stretch of bar where you can hold onto as the vibrations get stronger and stronger. The DJ tonight is playing Buurman Uit Berlijn and you’re unsure if it’s the thrumming bass of the song or the thing stuck inside you that’s dizzying and all-consuming. As you reach out for the bar, you close your eyes and focus.

The mass of dancing and yelling bodies behind and next to you, the pink and purple strobe lights flashing all around, your boyfriend’s music loud and blaring through the speakers, these beautiful torture devices of heels, the sweat sheen on the back of your neck, the matching wetness between your thighs as the high intensity vibration subsides and turns more mellow. 

Joost has finally given you reprieve. 

In waiting for the bartender to get to you, you feel like you’re looking over your shoulder like a madman every second, scared of looking suspicious, but scared of making eye contact with any of the people you know. You stand pin straight, scared of moving it any further, scared of pressing it into your spot. From your right, you hear your name and wince, preparing for some acquaintance or worse—one of Joost’s close friends that you’ve said hi to once but don’t know very well past that.

Turning—it’s just Ruby, and you breathe a sigh of relief once she bounds up to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug as if you and her haven’t spent the last week together upon her return with Tantu. 

She pulls away from you and you give her a small smile, realizing that the pulses have subsided completely, and you can let your guard down for a moment. 

The smile you give her must not be very convincing—“You look like you're about to be sick, my darling,” Ruby says, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to test out your temperature. She’s going to be disappointed when she finds out the real reason you’re feeling hot. 

“I’m fine,” you say softly, shaking your head. The only person you’re trying to convince at this point is yourself. “Don’t worry, I—“You open your mouth to speak, but the toy just—Joost is so mean to you. So, so mean, because he’s turned it up more, seconds long stretches of it pulsing hard and fast and then nothing, over and over again. Does he have a clear view of this from the booth? Does he just know? All you can get out is a little sigh, hopefully one she wasn’t able to hear over the loud music and all the talking. You close your lips and try to shake it off. 

“Cat got your tongue?” she giggles, then yells to the bartender who you didn’t even know came over, “Two Bacardi colas, thank you!” 

“Thank you, I appre—” you close your eyes as the vibrations become incessant, punching against every part of you. You can imagine Joost’s face back at the table, grinning, pupils dilated and hungry for how embarrassingly wet you are between the legs. “Ruby. For reasons. For reasons I cannot say, I have to pause speaking. I’m going to hold onto you for balance. Please do not say anything about this to anyone,” you say as you drop your head, trying to hide your face from her as you let out a groan. 

Even without seeing her reaction, you’re sure Ruby knows what’s up—you shared a wall for almost four years until she moved to Berlin after graduating, and you’ve heard your fair share of each other’s activities. When you pop back up, gritting your teeth in a grimace that’s supposed to be a smile, Ruby’s giving you a look of surprise and then she rolls her eyes. 

“I can't believe you two, you're disgusting!” she laughs, throwing her head back and giving your arm a squeeze. “You’re both freaks, I guess you were made for each other. Anyways—“ 

Ruby goes into a long tangent about the new apartment she’s about to move into next to her work building in Berlin, how she hopes the album will finally just drop soon so Tantu can stop fussing over the finishing touches, how she really thinks you probably should get back to the table because you’re white-knuckling the sticky bar and it’s concerning her—she’s trying to give you an out by talking to you normally, but you're really unable to get with the program. 

The bartender comes back to you with the two drinks and Ruby hands them to you—”Do you want me to help?” No, you shake your head, because you’re trying to prove yourself to someone, you’re not sure if that’s you or Joost. “Good luck, babe.” 

You teeter back with two Bacardi colas in hand and a calmer vibration keeping you intact for your journey back; if you spilled these drinks all over yourself, you’d have some very choice words for Joost later, and his birthday would be spoiled. But as you near the table (not without Myron trying to wave you over, and you throwing an apologetic look and a raise of your glasses her way, Mia making eye contact with you but you pretending not to notice), you find your stride, and can actually seem to walk without hunching into yourself to hide. Maybe this won’t be bad after all. 

Tantu’s seemed to join in on the drinking game with the others, Aggu and Marina watching them as you place down the Bacos in front of Joost. “Thank you, mijn hart,” he says looking up at you and pursing his lips for a kiss which you give him. Bending over is a terribly bad idea, you find out, the angle of the vibrator adjusting to your new position, and it hits you head on—you open your eyes and glare at him, and he gives you a big smile, kissing you on the cheek. 

It sours your expression even more when you see how close these quarters are, how Tantu and Appie are practically squished together as Stuntje and Marina have a chugging contest, how even with Ruby still at the bar, there isn’t any room for you. 

“There’s nowhere to sit, you can sit on my lap.”

“I can see that,” you mumble, taking off your jacket and giving it to Joost before perching on his lap, his left thigh underneath your ass and the bottom of the table above your legs. 

“Having fun, baby?” Joost says into your neck, the grin on his mouth evident as you sit back on him. 

“Having the worst time, Joosti.”

“Aw, why is that? It’s my birthday, it’s the second best day of the year—what’s not to love?”

“The demonic object you’ve placed inside of me, that’s what’s not to love.” 

You haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to everyone or even say hi—the night’s not about you but they’re still your friends. After the drinking games are over, you’ll have to face them, and they’ll talk to you, and your guilt will be all over your face and you’ll never be able to show yourself at this club ever again. 

You pick a piece of glitter off his cheek, brush some off the thick black rim of his glasses—he’s wearing that jacket he got a while back, the one he wore at Jere’s gig all adorned with pink fabric and women dominating men and “BRAT” over its leopard print background. This jacket exemplifies him perfectly, and you knew that when you recommended it for him to buy. 

“Don’t worry, schat, I told them you were tired from work. They won’t bother you.” 

“It wouldn’t be a bother if you just turned it off.”

“That is no fun, isn't it? I think you should have thought about that in the park last week if you wanted me to be nice.” Joost’s hands run along your sides, snake to your front, splay out on your stomach as he hugs you closer, his chin on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t embarrass you, lieverd,” he says softly, and your nerves are soothed. He kisses your neck and automatically, you roll it to give him more space to kiss, to nip at your skin. “You can trust me.” 

Everyone’s so distracted—what do you even have to worry about? Your group lets out a collective shout, whoops and claps at Marina beating Stuntje decisively even though she looks positively disgusted at the taste of the beers she emptied. Tonight is good—no one is paying attention to you; Joost is absentmindedly mouthing at your pulse point, at your jaw, the stupid vibrator and the terrible app forgotten, apparently. 

You sling your arm around his neck and he brings you closer.“ You haven’t even touched your drink, Joost,” you say, cupping his cheek as he kisses yours, trailing his lips against it until he reaches your own and kisses you deeply, fingers squeezing your thigh as his hand inches up. 

“The drinks can wait.” 

“Can you? We’re in public, remember?” 

“They probably won’t even remember tonight, what’s it matter?” 

From behind you, Aggu’s deep voice in German, the small vocabulary you know from Ruby: “I feel left out, mausi,” said amused, said with Joost’s hand almost between your legs. 

A nickname you gained from your short time on the Friesenjung set, the few interactions you had with August, as he introduced himself. 

You’d never felt intimidated by anyone Joost’s introduced you to—you weren’t even intimidated by Joost when you first met at this very club. You weren’t intimidated by the Dutch celebrities he’d introduced you to; not the Slavs or the Swedes; not Otto, even when he’d treated you and Joost to a Michelin starred dinner and told stories about his decades in the industry. 

Your appearance was a surprise to no one except for Joost—you told him you had work and couldn’t be there for him on the first day of filming. When you showed up, hiding behind your friends you knew on set, you’d made the mistake of not hiding well enough; in the middle of a scene, he spotted you behind someone’s shoulder, entire face lighting up and so happy, he dropped what he was doing and sped to you, hugging you and picking you up off the ground.

“Joost!” you scolded, laughing as he kissed you on the cheeks. “Please, there’s so many people around.” 

“I thought you said you had work?!” Joost said, kissing you again as the people around you dispersed, the scene they were filming fully interrupted now. 

“I wanted to be here for you, it’s a big day.”

His scene partner and someone you’d (sort of) talked to over Facetime when Joost would call him to talk about the song sauntered over, and Joost pulled away from you, keeping his hand around your waist. “This is Aggu, lieverd, and Aggu, this is—“ he gave him your name, “my baby,” “love of my life,” “the busiest person on the planet,” “mein schatz, or whatever you guys say here,” attached to the end of it, and you nodded. 

“That’s me,” you say softly to the other blonde mulleted man now entering your life. You held out your hand to shake and then regretted your decision remembering that it was 2023–who shakes hands in 2023?

Nonetheless, Aggu shook yours. Big hand but a gentle handshake, eyes intense but soft at the same time. You could barely meet them and it seemed like both Joost and August knew. “Wie eine maus,” he said, and you could use enough context clues to figure out what he said about you. “I’m August.”

There was something different about August—Aggu. Even if he was just as rambunctious as your boyfriend, he was quieter than he looked. This aloof, masculine energy seemed to just exude off of him without him having to announce any of it. Half of his face was covered most of the time you saw him, but you already knew he had reason to be so confident. 

As with most interesting things in your life—meeting him on your own happened out on a curb outside of the actual party. Later that day, there was a scene filmed at a corner store, and it turned into a party that went into night, 50 people crammed into the tiny establishment. You took a smoke break while Joost went to the bathroom, and there Aggu was, right behind you, right next to you. 

“You know, you’re very cute,” he said, and you practically sputtered out your drink, practically dropped your cigarette on the ground. 

“I’m Joost’s girlfriend,” you informed though you were sure he knew, and he nodded. 

“I know. He never stops talking about you.”

“Do you care?” 

Aggu laughed, and you smiled at the ground. “I do.” You offered your cigarette, and he shook his head. “Just surprised, you are so different from him.” 

“We’re surprised sometimes, too.” 

Aggu turned to you and you shared a look. You dropped the stub on the ground, the music spilling over and out of the corner store. Wind rustled your hair, and still, he was gazing at you. 

“Baby,” Joost called from behind you, and he was next to you in an instant. 

“I was just talking to Aggu—“

“August,” he corrected. “August,” you repeated softly, and you felt like…like something was being interrupted, but you weren’t even sure what. 

“Bye, mausi,” Aggu said, leaving you and Joost.

The entire exchange was strange—still couldn’t speak firmer or louder than this, couldn’t even look him in the eye in front of Joost. Joost poked fun at you for being so shy—“What’s the matter, baby? He doesn’t bite.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe that.” 

Tonight, Aggu isn’t wearing the goggles—he’s a handsome man with or without them, but you prefer the look without him, getting to see his full face. 

“Why don’t you talk to Aggu, mausi?” Joost snickers and you roll your eyes. 

“You don’t look like you do PDA,” Aggu says, and your cheeks burn. You were never the type to before Joost, but now here you are with a remote-control vibrator inside and his lips on your jaw as you try to speak with his friend. 

“I don’t?” You ask, knowing full well you don’t. 

Joost cups you over your tits, and you almost gasp—He’s normally not so handsy, even if you two are the worst perpetrators of public affection in your group by far. 

“Joost,” you say softly, shaking your head and moving his hand down even though it’s strangely—it’s strangely arousing having him claim you so decisively in front of Aggu. 

“He doesn’t care,” Joost says, but keeps his hand where it is, right under the curve of your breast. 

“I don't care,” Aggu confirms, and you roll your eyes as Joost kisses behind your ear. “Are you two going to do anything for Joost’s birthday?” 

“We’re—Joost, let me talk to him,” you giggle as Joost nips at your neck. “We’re going to Portofino after Joost goes to Berlin.” 

“No invitation for me?” Aggu teases and you roll your eyes, smiling. “It was my birthday a few days ago too, you know?” 

“You’d have to ask Joost for one, I don't make the rules.” 

Joost pauses his lips on you to turn to Aggu and says a simple and decisive, “No,” then turns back to your bitten neck, your jaw. You’re half sure he’s doing this for his own pleasure—it feels like you’re being pecked at by an annoying, albeit very cute and enthusiastic bird. 

“I would take you if I could, Aggu,” you joke, and Aggu gives you a surprised look. Finally, Joost lets off of you, and you can finally turn to your conversation partner fully and give him some attention. 

“Braves mädchen, do you think your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“He likes you—he won’t.” Under you, Joost starts tapping his toe—nothing to distract him now, you guess, his leg moving under you. 

“Nahhh, he’s the jealous type, no? At least when it comes to you.”

You laugh until you don’t—until you widen your eyes, dropping your mouth open and furrowing your eyebrows because wave after wave after wave of pure pleasure hits your g-spot, the vibrations so strong they go through the tail and reach your clit, and you have to stifle a moan by covering your mouth with your hand. You turn back to see Joost on his phone—still restlessly tapping his foot, moving the vibrator even more inside of you. 

“Are you alright, mausi?” 

“She’s alright, just weird,” Joost snickers from behind, using your words from the past against you. 

“I’m-I’m just fine, Aggu,” you say as you clench your thighs together and give him a thin smile, looking back at Joost who’s trying to hide his face from you, thumb still moving on his phone screen. 

“You look—“ 

“I just—oh my god,” you sigh out, clenching your fist as you involuntarily rock back onto Joost and his jostling knee under you, the vibrator being turned up all the way and turning your brain into mush as it kisses your g-spot. You can’t even begin to care about what this looks like, or the fact that Aggu is watching you and your face contorted in pleasure, as much as you’re trying to control yourself. 

“Ah,” Aggu says. 

Just from the look of amused disbelief on his face, the way his eyes flit down at your hands in your lap desperately trying to cover your thighs though there’s nothing to cover up, at least to the eye—you’ve been caught. 

“Joost, what is that?” he says, then leans behind you so Joost can show him the app, the wavelengths on the screen sure to be high frequency. Aggu moves his hand behind you—is he really letting Aggu control it right now? Judging from his movements and the changing patterns of your 

Aggu daps Joost up, then gives you a sly smile and a pat on the cheek. “Don't worry, schatzi, I will keep your secret.”

He looks around at your friends; Ruby and Tantu lazing on the very end, Stuntje and Appie and Alanis and Marina having a heated discussion about something you can’t hear over the music, over the exchange happening between the men on either side of you. 

“Come on, Joost. You’re being mean to her,” Aggu says as Joost brings his arms back around your waist, placing you more on his crotch than his legs. His phone is in his hands (as usual), but this time, he’s got the app wide open. 

The vibrations are at the very top of the little control area, and you can feel it as you drop your head again, concealing your face completely so you can revel in the pleasure without anyone watching. 

Does Joost feel it right now, as you grind back on his lap without even meaning to? Through his jeans, he’s hard, and you can feel it clearly on your ass. 

“She can take it.” 

“Can you?” Aggu asks, turning to you, and you nod almost automatically, even as your thighs start tensing with the lead up to an orgasm. “Whatever you say, schatz.” 

Enough of him—you shift so you're turned away, mostly facing the crowd, mostly facing Joost. You drape your arms around his neck, face scrunching up, mouth dropping open as the vibrations pulse hard and fast so deep inside you. 

“Feel good?” Joost says, and you nod, trying to keep it together even as that knot ties in your stomach. He watches your face intently, pupils blown out and his hand rubbing circles on your back as you hold back a sob. The song over the speakers is Normalje Bass, the bass booming through your body inside-out. You hope and pray none of your friends are watching—you know Aggu is, even if your face is hidden from him. 

“I’m cumming,” you say as quietly as you can, lips parting with your quiet sighs as the waves of your orgasm start, so intense from all of the internal stimulation. 

“I know,” Joost soothes. “Just kiss me.” 

You moan into his mouth, pushing against him so he can muffle your sounds; you know that even if you were louder than this, the music would just drown you out, but his lips on yours, his hands on your body—they relax you. Joost moves his big hand to the nape of your neck, licking into your mouth. 

He tastes like cigarette smoke, smells like his heady cologne, nose bumping against yours. You gasp into his mouth as the vibrations continue, whining as it takes you past your point, your legs shaking with the comedown of your climax but the continued overstimulation inside of you. 

“Zo vies, holy shit guys,” Marina yells over the music so you can hear, fake gagging, which earns you a chorus of more fake gagging from the rest, clapping from Ruby and Tantu. 

“It’s my birthday—ik mag doen wat ik wil.” Joost laughs, waving them off. At the same time, he takes out his phone and turns off the vibrator completely, and every muscle in your body relaxes, the waves subsiding. 

Joost gives a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek as you try and catch your breath as subtly as possible. “You did so good, lieverd.” 

You nod, giving him his own kiss on his cheek for letting up on the toy. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” you breathe, and he grins. 

“You don’t need a break—”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Standing, you get off his lap and pull at the hem of your dress as you wait for Joost to get up. Your legs are still a bit shaky, the heels not helping at all, but you're too excited to go. 

“Leaving so soon?” Marina pouts, her head on Alanis’ shoulder and big eyes shining at you. You almost want to stay, but—you want Joost inside of you more. 

“They’ll be back,” Ruby teases, rolling her eyes at you both. Cheeks burning as you smile, you shake your head. 

“Maybe,” you say, it’s Joost—this is only the beginning of the night. 

Joost gets up from the booth, his hand on the small of your back immediately and guiding you away. Before you can go, Aggu holds his hand out to your boyfriend—“You’re a lucky man. Can I come?” Aggu grins, winking at you. 

“Fuck no, man,” he says, dapping him up, and you laugh as Joost takes your hand and pulls you along with him through the sea of people all dancing and drinking to his music, all of the friends you and him have made over the years. You give quick hellos to everyone you know, saying sorry and you’ll talk to them later—you’re half sure everyone knows where you’re headed, but you can't seem to care tonight. 

You and Joost are almost to the staircase, not without making several stops to have people wish him gefeliciteerd, hugs for both of you, promises to catch up later, there’s just something you both need to do. The first step on it, a raspy voice yells behind you, “Joostttt!!!” and you look to see Donnie, long hair in French braids and expensive jewelry all along his wrists as he pulls you in for a hug that you reciprocate. “Mijn meisje, how are you doing?” 

“I’m good, Donnie, how are you?” 

“Good, good, celebrating your boy,” he yells, reaching behind you to dap Joost up, the excitement at seeing each other heavy on their raspy laughs as Joost hugs him.

Your boy doesn't think you understand Dutch as well as you do, even after 5 years of him giving you impromptu Juolingo (as he calls them) lessons and even longer living here—“Don’t go to the bathroom for the next 20 minutes, man, alright?” he says to Donnie in the language, and you roll your eyes at his boldness.

“20 minuten? Christ, man, jullie zijn allebei verdomd gek,” he laughs in disbelief. 

“Het duurt 10 minuten, Donnie, maak je geen zorgen!” you yell back as Joost keeps pulling you up the stairs, and Donnie cackles as you leave him behind. 

There are several bathrooms downstairs, but the one you’re headed to is upstairs and down a hallway and another, so far away from the action it’s no wonder no one uses it—your favorite bathroom to use for…activities, seldom used yet still seedy as hell, the old fluorescents warm and flickering, the mirrors cracked and grimy. The sinks and the stalls are always relatively clean though; whether it’s from the lack of use or the club owners actually upkeep it, you don’t know and don’t care as you step into the middle of the three stalls, you and Joost’s favorite one. 

Even if you know that there’s no one in here, the drip of the leaky faucets echoing against walls and not other people, Joost still bends down and checks under and between the stall gaps for you before squeezing into the tight stall with you, locking it. 

Joost takes you by the arms and turns you around so you won't have to touch the slightly gross toilet at any part. “Finally alone,” he breathes, taking your face in his hands and giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose, which you laugh at. 

“What’s that for?” you say as Joost kisses both of your cheeks, then your lips three times in quick succession. 

“I missed you!”

“I sat on your lap the entire time.” 

“You weren’t facing me—I missed you!” 

You pinch his cheek and smile—how lucky you are to spend his birthday together. It wasn’t always like this; whether it was the constant cat-and-mouse game you both played in the beginning of your relationship or your job and school or his abundance of creative projects, every birthday over Facetime and belated celebration makes you love Joost and this even more.  

“You look very sappy,” Joost says, hands on your hips as you brush his bangs back then cup his face.

“I am sappy,” you say softly, and he laughs and kisses you. 

“We don't have time to be sappy—you said 10 minutes to Donnie, didn’t you? Mean, by the way.” Joost takes your hand and kisses your wrist, the silver chrome pendant of his initial dangling from the chain link bracelet he bought you last anniversary. “But I am sappy too, I hope you know.” 

He pretends to chomp on your hand before pulling you in for another kiss. “I’m so happy you're with me.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “Best birthday ever.” Kiss. 

Last year was the best birthday ever, too—you're just glad it only gets better. “I love you too.” Joost squeezes you tight and you groan once he squeezes you too tight, laughing once he lets go. 

“Sorry, I just love you.” 

“I know,” you say, patting Joost on the chest then running your hands down to his new copyright belt buckle, undoing it. He’s so obviously hard, it’s laughable thinking about how he walked through a crowd greeting his friends with a big tent in his jeans. 

You mouth at his neck, saying a quiet, “Hi Lola,” which he laughs at as you kiss along the side, sucking on the skin just slightly—he marks so easily and you've both already made it so obvious what you’re doing at his own birthday celebration. 

Reaching into his pants, you wrap your hand around his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps, the head already leaking precum. Joost smiles into your kiss—such a great birthday present for him. You suck his lower lip into your mouth momentarily, then come back together again, one hand lightly squeezing over the column of his neck, and his dick twitches in your hand in response. 

“Every time,” he whispers, shaking his head at his own arousal giving him away. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “That's why I do it.” 

You give him a few more jerks before turning around to face the other way. 

There are so many Joost doodles from your years together at this club, adding onto the muddled canvas on top of the stripping paint. Your favorite doodle inside your favorite stall is one you have to look up at. A heart around your name + JOOST in thick black Sharpie on the stall door in a little gap between all the graffiti, the dick drawings…the “Ruby was here ♡” in swirly cursive around eye level. Huh. Interesting. You never noticed that one before. 

“Hehe. Us!” Joost says, pointing with his finger at your names together like he didn’t write it there around a year ago. 

“Us,” you say, touching it with your finger. 

There isn’t much time for you to focus on it when Joost snakes his arms around you, one hand reaching into the cups of your dress to knead your tits, and the other reaching under it so he can rub you over your panties. 

“I almost forgot the thing was still inside you,” he murmurs, tugging at the tail of it gently, which makes you sigh out in pleasure. “My new favorite toy, but let me take it out.”

Placing your hands on the stall door, you bend over a little, which is really, about as much as you can bend with how tiny this space is. A few moments pass and you look back to see Joost kneeling on the ground—“Are you…seriously on your phone right now?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Sorry,” Joost says, squeezing your thigh. “I just have an idea.” 

“Okay,” you say, shimmying your thong down with your fingers and letting it fall to your ankles. You lift up the back half of your dress, exposing your ass.

Finally, Joost places his fingers on the back of your thigh, tugs it using his thumb and forefinger again. Slowly, he pulls it out of you and the impossibly wet sound of it, Joost’s eyes so intent on you, makes your cheeks burn fire. You clench around air—it feels so empty now. 

Joost bites your ass cheek, and to your surprise, licks a strip up your slit, which makes you have to hold onto the stall. You turn to look and he's giving you an exaggerated pout. “Can I eat you out?” he asks earnestly, big blue eyes pleading with you and you shake your head no. 

“What does it look like ditching your own celebration for so long? When we get home you can do it.” 

“Fine,” Joost grumbles, getting back up. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times, spreading the precum down his shaft. He swipes the head through your slit, dipping the tip inside of you a few times,  “My god, you’re so wet, schat,” he says, and you can feel it, the smooth and frictionless glide of him through you, “This is crazy.”

“Stop fucking teasing, oh my god,” you sigh, and as you say it, Joost still teases you, the tiniest little thrusts with your pussy enveloping only the head of his cock. 

“Bossy,” he mumbles, and then you hear the familiar loud vibration of the pink toy in his hand. You look at him with wide eyes and he shrugs. “We can use it while we do this.” 

“Mmm…okay,” you say, turning back around and getting ready for him to enter you again. Joost wraps his arms around you again, one holding the toy to your mound and sending the vibrations through your body again, the other cupping your tits from below. 

Slowly, Joost thrusts inside of you, the wet slide of his cock inching inside of you making you shudder. Once he bottoms out, his hips snug against your ass, he whispers into the side of your face, “Ik hou van je,” and you nod, eyes closed in intense pleasure at how big he feels, the pulsing vibrations on your clit. 

Joost pulls you back onto him by the hip, thrusting forward at the same time so they punch against your g-spot even harder. The moans just tumble out of his mouth, strangling out your name, various curses, his pace steady but unforgiving to you in the throes of your arousal. In this position, he’s so big, and you’re so wet, and the vibrator is so strong—you could collapse. 

“So good, baby,” Joost breathes out against your shoulder, and you turn your head to kiss him. He does, but at the same time pressing the toy even harder against your bud, making you sob out his name, clenching around him. “Taking me so well, baby, so good.” 

Your shared moans and breaths bounce off the tile walls, the clack of your heels as you adjust your stance to get him deeper inside of you, Joost’s raspy voice in your ear and his teeth in your neck. The sound of your pussy around him fucking into you incessantly—you should be ashamed at how filthy it sounds, but you aren’t, and you know Joost isn’t either. 

Joost slows down his hips, and you whine at the stalled pace—“Mijn schat, can I see you?” Joost asks, breathless as he slides out of you with that sound again that’s music to your ears, and you turn to face him, wetness smearing your thighs. The vibrations subside completely again, and Joost takes the vibrator off of you. 

“I want to see you, too,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “But how are we gonna do that?” 

“You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“That isn’t hard to do.” 

Reaching down, he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up and you help hike it up for him. The palm of his hand is under your bent knee, and you look back up at him to tilt your head and give him a confused face.  

“Did you see this in like, a video or something?” you laugh, especially looking down at the absurdity of it all; crammed in the smallest bathroom stall known to man, crotches together, teetering on a high heel while your boyfriend holds up your leg for you. 

“Being away from you so often,” he says, hiking your leg up further and making you yelp and laugh as you almost fall. “It means I get lots of ideas about how I want you.” 

Joost wraps your arms around his shoulders, his neck so you can have better balance—the heels make you perfectly in line with his cock and you both look down and watch as he uses his free hand and his hips to guide his cock into you slowly, parting your folds as it disappears inside of you. Your lips part, brows knit together at the feeling so perfect that you sob out once he bottoms out so deeply in you. 

The sounds are so filthy when Joost starts thrusting, you might actually be ashamed of it for once; the hollow clap of his hips against your pelvis echoing against the dingy walls, the wet slide of his cock in and out and in and out of you—every moan out of your mouth is one you couldn’t dream of holding back, mewling into his jacket shoulder, clinging onto him and leopard print fabric tightly as he fucks into you, tight hand around your hip sliding him into you over and over again. 

Usually you’re the one calling the shots around here, Joost hanging onto your every word as your sweet and loving life partner, but he’s got you in his palm, your hands clawing at the back of his jacket, gripping onto the long hair at the nape of his neck, your heavy breaths and choked out moans as you sob his name out. 

“I’m close, schatje,” Joost breathes into your ear, his big hands kneading your ass as he thrusts, arms wrapped tight so he can keep your leg up for you with how much control you’ve lost over yourself at how amazing he feels inside of you. You nod, not really caring at all, close to the edge yourself and your hips tired from the position—it’s his birthday. He deserves this and more. 

“I love you,” you breathe, resting your cheek on his shoulder and closing your eyes as your orgasm starts, the waves coming through you as you tighten and clench around his cock. You're so stretched open, it’s mind blowing for you, and Joost tells you such, babbling about how tight you feel, how good you are for him as you release hard and fast around him, muffling your sounds with his mouth. 

This stall is so stuffy—sweat on sweat and when you open your eyes, Joost gazes at you, eyes half-lidded as he places your forehead against yours, thrusts firmly as his face contorts in pleasure, as the heat rises between you two, skin slapping on skin, all of your love filling all of the room. 

“I love you, schat, I love you,” he says, kissing you as he groans out into your mouth, painting your walls white, warm and full as he gives you the final hard and stuttering few thrusts, fucking every last drop of his cum into you. 

Joost licks into your mouth, spit on your chins as he softens inside of you, breathy moans coming out of him at the overstimulation of your movements. Now that you’ve both stilled, the setting his come back to you—the drippy faucet, the music bumping through the walls sounding like muffled nonsense though you know it’s Joost’s, the stall door cold against your back and the cum already leaking out of you around his cock. 

“Joost, can you let go of my leg, please?” you say quietly, eyes closed as you catch your breath, both of you somehow lean against the stall door now, him panting into your neck, your leg around his hip. 

“Oopsie,” Joost says, giving you a kiss on your neck before placing your leg on the floor gently and straightening up; he pulls the cups of your dress up so they’re covering your chest again, pulls the hem of it down your thigh so you aren’t so exposed. You can feel it drip down your inner thighs as he reaches down and brings your panties back up—Joost is so sweet. You’ll never get used to it.

“Happy birthday to me,” he sings, laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in. 

“Happy birthday to you.” 

i so appreciate all of your guys' patience with me when it comes to my writing and i hope you enjoyed!! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) askbox anon on hereeee - juno

[hailthedoll]

Hiiii i love your blogs i’ve been following gaga for AT LEAST a year now and i’m so happy your back! Could you write a NSFW Euronymous hc? Anything NSFW please i'm needy.

✭ euronymous nsfw headcannon ✭

i love you so much for one requesting and two following my page for that long. thanks bitch<3 PSA, if you do not support or agree with my post or feel the need to leave a hateful/judgemental comment kindly fuck off and move on. with much love-knotty<<<333

LISTEN

im gonna say this flat out, i feel like he lowkey is childish with stuff like this

like giggly

a friendly reminder euronymous and øystein are the same person with different personalities

so øystein

this man was BLUSHING the first couple times he saw you naked

then that turned into just staring at you in awe and he hasn't really stopped doing that since

hes gentle

hes more of a giver than a receiver imo

its easier for him to finish than it is for you and he knows this

so making you more so of a priority in his mind is the obvious choice

he wants to make sure you're okay and it feels good for you before he worries about himself

but when he does worry about himself this man is vocal

not necessarily dirty talk

more so like quiet moans, whispers, small grunts and sighs

he loves head tho

when he gets head those are the moments where he can be GREEDY

he pushes your head down, you choke

"shit sorry"

and then the motherfucker will do it again

i see him being very much into missionary

he wants to see you

how you react to things

how you're feeling

the look on your face tells him what he needs to be doing

he will go down whenever

for however long

if it takes all day he's got time

he enjoys it

is it the taste? is it your body twitching under him? is it your moans?

he doesnt know, but its addicting

and he's got that "nobody else makes you feel this way" or "nobody else can make you sound like this" attitude

that really gets him feeling some sort of way

he will practically beg for you to sit on his face

a million pleases until you say yes

and its like he's more excited for it than you are

him praising you

AGAIN not in a dirty talk way but more like

"you look so beautiful" while you are FOLDED

definitely would keep a polaroid of you(iykwim) in his wallet, hidden behind some cash or maybe behind a more appropriate picture of you

possessive in a doesn't want a threesome way

like doesn't want anybody touching you or seeing you the way he does

he absolutely loves to show you off and brag about you to everyone and hear people compliment you but he would never let it go past that

pre show sex

it may take some convincing or teasing him to get him to actually do it in public but after the first time he is all for it everytime

after show sex

if this man is wanting to fuck you after a show, he is still in this mindset where he isnt øystein, hes euronymous

and if that's case you're getting a cocky motherfucker

hes high on adrenaline

he just spent a solid what hour? two hours? listening to people cheer for him

like yeah this mans ego is FED

this is the time he'd be more aggressive

more vocal

yes ACTUALLY dirty talk

PRAISING

he is still more focused on you than himself but its closer to 50/50 than what it normally is

i think his actions are based on your likes

if you like your hair being pulled itll more likely happen when he's in this mindset where isn't himself and he's this persona

because øystein is worried about hurting you

not saying he wouldnt

im just saying its more likely when you get him out of the mindset of you being like this person he wants to love and protect

lets face it, he is a small man

he is not tall and he is not big nor buff

in his eyes hes like your protector

hes the man in the relationship

or the masculine(?) one

and that's just nature for him

so hurting you?

is the LAST thing he wants to do to you

ok aftercareeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

at home he's gonna cling to you

hug you, hold you, kiss you

you ever seen that picture where he was staring at the bird

did you see the way that man was staring at that bird?

you're the bird.

thats how that man stares at you

softly smiling, his eyes full of love

would probs just have you fall asleep in his arms

if you are not home

sly looks

smirks and grins coming your way

little whispers commenting about what y'all just did

and how nobody knows what just happened

like a proud moment

like yeah we did that

he'd kiss you a couple times

hold your hand

or just stare at you and smile

no matter who he is in that moment that man is GEEKING

HE just did the deed with YOU

how did he get so lucky

[triglycercule]

aaaaaah i love this so much,,,, granted i don't focus on the trio being w nightmare a lot (since the gang bad sanses thing IS NOT FOR ME!!! give me trio only or give me death) but QSAAAAAHHHH i love it so much when people play around with them in the bad sanses!!! i must say that the dynamic you described here where theyre like noooot that intimately close but also just like stick together because they gotta stick together with anyone that they can is PEAAAK (it's my favorite mtt in the bad sanses dynamic :3)

the trio truther in me says NOOOO to them breaking up afterwards but,,, the realist in me knows that they don't help each other They CANT help eachother (i always think about how even if they weren't in a bad situation they'd just stagnate each other or do worse,,, sadly these guys just cannot get better with each other. FIRST they have to love themselves (and deal with all their OTHER issues) before they can,,,, even mildly care for THEMSELVES???) (but maybe it'd kinda be like a service animal thing where by taking care of the pet you take care of yourself??? THIS IS A SEPERATE THING I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IN A DIFFERENT POST ACTUALLY NVM)

its so silly and funny that their way of "showing affection" is literally just them having eachothers backs,,,, ITS SO FUNNY TO ME,,,, AND SO CUTE TOO :333 for me personally i dont think they'd ever like. care enough,,,, about eachother to do stuff like taking the blame or just plain ol nights of comfort (they'd SLAUGHTER EACHOTHER before they ever decide to get cozy and fluffy in my head 💔💔) like with bad sanses esque killer i can get why killer would try to like,,, just BARELY keep dust and horror alive bc then nightmare gets what he wants or whatever but i just cant see either of the other 2 reviprocating the bare minimum of "affection" back (dust's grudge against killer would last until the earth's water evaporated and horror simply. would not have enough appreciation in his soul for that. probably wouldnt even get why killer's helping them smh.) PLUS they wouldn't be in a good enough mental space to even CONSIDER any sort of "affection" back with the whole ohhh shiiiit i got kidnapped and now have to do things I dont like!! + nightmare's aura preventing ANY sort of character development. horror n dust permanently keep waking up on the wrong side of the bed in the castle. killer is only immune because bro is just THAT numb (AND EITHER WAY EVEN IF THE TRIO WERE TAKEN OUT OF THE CASTLE DUST AND HORROR WOULDN'T JUST RANDOMLY BE 10X NICER,,, their capacity for niceness wouldn't go up just that the mood swings and pissiness would go down. and when the 2 arent like going through a manic burst or a furious moment theyre preeeetty damn apathetic and non caring. TO ME)

in a non bad sanses context for me i think it would be more interesting if they just like,,,, made comments to each other that are seemingly insignificant but are actually pretty insightful for the one being told so. because they might not have self reflection (because ohhh nooo pain hurty hurty being confronted with my wrongdoings SUCKS) but they have like. INVERSE self reflection on others. it could be the most barebones thing like horror saying that dust smells like shit after not showering due to lethargy and then that's a reminder to shower for him (sometimes that small reminder is all it takes want to do something youve been putting off) or like killer making an observation about how it's weird that horror doesn't eat that bunch and that he knows that people need to EAT to survive (it doesnt do much for horror since he's got that starvation mentality ENGRAINED in him but build that up and you've got a pretty nasty argument between horrorkiller. resulting in probably a nasty remark from killer about horror's ED that makes him want to start taking progress to recovery JUUUST to spite killer). and of course they probably have to take care of each other when one gets injured or nearly DIES because esuaghhh as much as they HATE to admit it theyve kinda gotten ever so slightly attached to the other 2,,, in killer's case it's intrigue but dont be fooled by s2's LIES (ok STAGE ONE gtfo of my brain dude. stage 2 is COOL)

and i DID in fact see that post you made about the "dust and horror trying to help killer with emotions or whatever and then killer feels emotions and goddamn it they HURT so now he's upset and angry at the 2 which alienates them even more" (but i forgot to uhhh like and reblog. my bad,,,,, i do that a lot with posts i like) and i do really Like That Headcanon A Normal Amount. totally normal amount and definitely not fawning over it ADHAGAHGHHHH i love it so much when they keep on pushing each other away and starting more and more conflicts between them. but they cant DO anything about it. in the gang where else would they go with nightmare crawling on their backs all the damn time??? and outside the gang theyre still too attatched to each other despite all of the intricacies of toxicity in their relationship (like a toxic relationship you can't help but keep on coming back to because it's comforting and you miss it and youre too attached even though it was bad because there were SOME good moments right? and in a life filled with sadness and anguish the small moments might be enough to keep them together)

anyways this is a lot. thank you for answering my ask :3333 i love hearing other people's ideas and interpretations on the mtt!!!! this entire reblog was just me being in denial of the trio splitting up with eachother though. erm

dear buubonita,

i'll keep it short and classy: opinions on the murder time trio??? i need to know EVERYTHING

that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow, triglycercule

Murder Time Trio is my favorite little trio, I used to throw Nightmare into the mix but I don't anymore because I still can't figure out how to integrate him in a way that I like.

Anyway, let's leave Nightmare aside.

I know that many love to think outside the box and put Killer in other groups, and I don't think that's bad at all, they're interesting to watch for a moment. But MTT is my favorite and I wouldn't change it for the world! I love the idea of ​​broken people trying to hold each other up, they need to hold on to something when all three of them are suffering constant stress and pain under Nightmare's tyranny. I love that they can connect through the pain. And their relationship is far from healthy, I'd say that breaking up afterwards is the best thing they can do if they manage to run away together.

Their form of affection is subtle gestures I think. Like Dust decides to redirect Nightmare's rage away from Killer himself when he thinks the man needs a little respite, or like when Horror drags the two of them into a safe space and they stay close to each other on the roughest of nights, or when Killer, who knows Nightmare best, gives the other two advice and warnings to handle themselves carefully around Nightmare. It's little things that try to make the situation a little less shitty, you know?But their relationship isn't perfect and there are moments of high tension that inevitably explode between them.

A friend and I thought about the idea of ​​Killer trying to understand his feelings a long time ago and how Dust and Horror try to help him figure it out only to trigger a stage jump that ends with Nightmare forcing Killer to regress to his stage 2 and with a little resentment towards the two of them for believing they did it on purpose. Or maybe Horror pushes the mental edge too much on Dust on a particularly bad day. Or Dust in a small psychotic outbreak ends up hurting Killer or Horror. These are things that can happen, their relationship is turbulent but they still try to find comfort between them within their possibilities.

I hope this satisfies your fever for them :3 i defo will talk more of them in the future.

[magicshop]

funky rooftop joon my beloved ♡

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

childhood friend!sugu vs childhood friend!toru

YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE .

thank you for saying this anon i’ve been thinking of it a lot actually. i’m morally and legally binded to choose childhood friend!sugu no matter what because he’s literally……. my favorite Ever. and i think the inherent devotion of the childhood friend trope blends soooo well with his natural devotion. his protective urges. etcetc. i have wayyyy too many thoughts about childhood friend!sugu 😭 but it mostly boils down to him wanting to be by your side forever. he wants to make you happy and he wants to protect you and he knows you so well that he doesn’t trust anyone else to love you like he can. he’s selfish and he wants you to lean on him more than he wants anything for himself.

childhood friend!toru though….. i feel like he would be your estranged childhood friend. that makes most sense to me :3 like, you met when you were really really young, and ended up playing together in an empty park. he was a brat, kind of quiet, and you were just sweet, y’know? you were the closest thing to a friend he had as a child. then you ended up moving away, he never got to say goodbye… and you meet again as adults. you don’t remember him — it was just so, so long ago — but he remembers you. he remembers you a little too well.

so now you just kinda have to deal with this tall, handsome, cheery man who keeps talking to you like you’re best friends even though you literally don’t remember him…. he’s sweet though. a little annoying, but sweet. he has a soft spot for you. i think having anything remotely close to a childhood friend makes him feel human in a way he can’t help but crave.

sooooo. overall!!! both are good :3 i will always be a childhood friend!sugu truther before anything else but childhood friend!toru has sm potential..

[nari-writes]

"Conner, don’t you get it? Clark is awkward because he loves you. He just has no idea how to deal with everything else. If he didn’t love you,” Lois says, “this would be easy.”

[scattered-winter]

top 5 soapghost moments that happen in the game* >:)

*not sure i’m using the terminology correctly but i hope this makes sense anyway

ehehehehehehehehehehe >>>>:)

5: the cutscene where they first met is sooooo funny to me. soap's little shoulder tap. the way ghost's soul visibly leaves his body. this was in fact the moment that made me as obsessed with them as I am <3

4: graves' betrayal scene!!!!! I love how ghost is Looming in the shadows like he does and soap is right up there with alejandro (and I'm ALSO obsessed with how graves' dialogue color turns from blue [ally color] to red [enemy color] halfway through the interaction. peak cinema). and the SIDE EYE!!!!!!! ghost using soap's real name !!!!!!! I'm obsessed with them ur honor !!!!!!!!!!!!!

3: their BANTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! right after the betrayal scene they're separated and wounded in an unfamiliar city while being hunted down by a literal army, and they spend the entire time bantering at each other over comms and telling bad jokes to keep spirits up. it's soooooooo insane of them <3333333

2: ghost's unmasking scene <3333 (I couldn't find a shorter clip so the section I'm referring to ends at around 1:31) I loooooove masks as a narrative piece (part of the reason why I'm a dc fan <33) and in ghost's case it's SO !!!!!!!!!!!! his backstory is fairly complicated and I have sooo many thoughts about it so for the sake of keeping this at a reasonable length and also on-topic I won't include the ramble <33 but all the context you really need is that ghost never takes off his mask, ever. (I like to compare it to kaz brekker's gloves; the mask fills the same role for ghost and his trauma as the gloves do for kaz <333) and the look on soap's face when ghost does take it off literally lives in my brain rent-free at all times

1: THIS SCENE. THE SOAPGHOST SCENE OF ALLLL FUCKING TIME!!! the way soap trusts him so completely to watch his back. the way he only says a few words ("watch the window") because he knows ghost will pick up on the rest. the raw, audible relief in ghost's voice when he hears soap is alive. the way ghost takes the shot when it could have very easily hit soap instead but soap trusted him to take it. the way they immediately revert back to bantering even though soap was like .5 seconds away from death literally a few seconds ago. they're insane <3

some honorable mentions that were too small/minor to be considered for one of the Favorite Scenes but I like them regardless: the very last cutscene shows the whole team sitting at a bar, and ghost and soap are sitting by each other <333 there's also sooo many little moments in the missions/briefings after the mission where soap and ghost were stranded in las almas where they had some fun banter <3 and there were also sooo many moments where they saved each other (other than the Big One in the list) and like. there are too many moments to count. but they're the ultimate battle couple <3

[lem-argentum]

DID YOU KNOW that prom’s joy is so contagious. i love when he’s happy he iz everything thank u that is all

[lokissweater]

birds of a feather . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

{olympic figure skater!satoru gojo x olympic figure skater f!reader}

summary: you and satoru have known each other since childhood, two little birds navigating through life together as you shared one dream in common— to win gold at the olympics, you both a figure skating pair as you moved and performed and fell in love as the years went by, both balancing off a trembling tight rope and holding on to keep each other in place, a silent agreement that if you indulged and fell into the depths of the truth of what you were, you’d run the risk of losing your careers and each other, yours and satoru’s biggest fears. but you’re growing, and it’s getting harder to hold back… especially for satoru— that trembling tight rope on the verge of snapping in two.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, childhood best friends to lovers trope, cursing, DIABOLICAL ANGST BUT WITH HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!, mentions of death and loss, mentions of injury and blood, FLUUUFFF, satoru loves loves loves you, SMUUUTT, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, pussy eating, dom satoru, pussy drunk satoru, DIRTY TALK, pet names, figure skating, the olympics, true love <3

word count: 22.3k (I KNOW PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE PLEASE—)

authors note: YYYOOOUUU GUUUYYSSS THIS ONE IS MY BABBBYYY AND IM CRYING NOW WRITING THIS LMFAOAOAO. i hope you all love it seriously i GLADLY worked day and night writing this and i’d do it all over again just to see y’all happy :) THANK YOU for your support it is UNREAL, and like always, I LOOVEEE YOUUU MWAAHHH <333

you first met satoru when you were six at the skating rink.

he was only a year older than you, both of your mothers coincidentally signing you up for the same youth ice skating lessons for beginners, meeting and chatting it up seeing as you and satoru were the youngest in age out of the rest of the parents there and their children, you both automatically put together by your coach and separated from the older kids to do warm ups.

and even though the age difference was only a year, satoru at first treated you like a little helpless tiny thing who needed assistance in everything— the cute pink ribbons in your hair doing you an injustice and further implementing the image of a little girl who had no clue of what was going on around her, thinking you were cutesy and he was determined to be your little knight in shining armor when the time came.

until he saw you skate.

what satoru didn’t know, was that you were a prodigy— related to one of the most famous ice skaters in olympic ice skating history, akira, as her talent was blessedly passed down to you through your fruitful system and the lucky processes of genetics— chosen as you barely even had to be taught, you catching everything right away by the coach without any sort of slip and fall… unlike satoru who was clumsily struggling to even glide through the ice without wobbling.

and little satoru was astonished by you and your talent, his first impression of you drastically changing by the end of the first lesson as he shakily slid across the ice over to where you were, patiently doing little turns on the ice while you waited for your mother to finish up talking to another lady (it was satoru’s mother).

“hi!” he had greeted you, a huge goofy smile on his face as you slowed down and looked at him, returning a shy smile of your own.

“hi.”

“i’m satoru!” he extended a hand, eyes shooting wide as he suddenly lost his balance and slipped forward, on the brink of face planting on the ice as his hands quickly flailed out and gripped the edge of the rink to save himself.

you giggled, tiny hands reaching and holding his arm steady as he tried to regain his balance.

“are you okay?” your shy voice asked, and he grinned through his wobbling.

“yeah! i’m okay! don’t worry!”

but he still couldn’t stabilize himself.

“maybe we should sit on the bench?” you suggested sweetly. “so you don’t fall…”

“okay!”

you gripped him as hard as you could (which really wasn’t a lot for a six year old) and slowly moved with him on the ice, supporting him until you were both out of the rink and seated on the bleachers.

“what’s your name?” he chirped, his hands clutching on the edge of the bench as he leaned forward and looked at you kindly, legs swinging.

“y—y/n.”

“nice!” he cheesed, looking at you. “i saw you skate. you’re really good!”

“t—thank you.” you mumbled, shy and alarmed that a boy was talking to you.

“when did you start skating?”

you looked at him confusedly. “um.. today?”

his eyes bulged.

“hah?! today?!”

you jumped at his outburst, cheeks pink as you quickly nodded.

“wowww!…” he gushed with stars in his eyes. “that’s great! i saw you doing turns and things. i can barely move on the ice… it’s slippery.”

“well—” you peeked up at him shyly. “my—my aunt taught me some stuff… but not a lot.”

“you have someone in your family that skates?” he asked excitedly with huge blue eyes. “how cool! hopefully i can catch up to you and at least move…”

“that’s okay...” you smiled. “i know you will.”

“really?!” he gushed again before leaning back, nodding his head cutely. “if you think so, then i know so!”

and you giggled at him, your timid wall slowly crumbling down at his bubbly and kind personality as he was a chatterbox and talked to you about anything that had to do with olympic ice skating— him knowing so much about it and nearly screaming his head off and panicking when he found out that your aunt was none other than akira, now knowing exactly why you were so good at skating in the first place.

satoru looked up to you. so much so that it was comical— seeking your approval over the following years during lessons and not even listening to the damn coach himself as he listened more to you, wanting you to teach him how to do bunny hops or backward crossovers and giving a big fat attitude to anyone else who tried to coach him, whining and snoring away until you and your little bows skated over to him to teach him.

and because of that you spent a lot of time with satoru in and out of lessons, even more than you ever spent with your own friends at school as you clung to him at all times— him cheering and encouraging you on when you were shy in certain situations, and you teaching him everything you could about skating and bringing him little bags of strawberry gummy puffs since he had the biggest sweet tooth you had ever seen, you both cemented and stubbornly attached to the hip with neither wanting to let go.

and when your mother’s planned a little playdate at the local outdoor ice skating rink on a chilly december day— an enormous christmas tree sitting tall and glorious by the rink with twinkling star-shaped fairy lights and jingle bells surrounding the plaza, you and satoru spinning each other around and dancing and giggling over the murmur of classic christmas songs, they saw the potential… an idea sparking in their heads amongst their cooing and picture taking.

you and satoru were both originally put into the ice skating world to train and be independent professional skaters, olympic athletes to be more specific when the time came.

but that concept quickly changed the second you met.

now— you and satoru were an olympic ice skating pair, the subject materializing when your mother’s pulled you out from those simple ice skating lessons (you both already way past getting the basics down since your skill combined with you teaching satoru had you both surpassing the class) and paying for a professional couples figure skating coach to get you guys started now and early.

and the both of you were over the moon, especially satoru, as he absolutely adored you and begged his mother literally every fucking day if he could go over to your house or over to the ice skating rink with you to dance, you doing the same and the two of you crying and wailing on the floor whenever times wouldn’t work out and plans fell through, your mother’s having to give in and drag you to each other’s houses so you would both stop crying.

when akira found out you were officially figure skating, she nearly drove into the side of a building speeding over to your house from being out of the country for so long competing.

“is it true?!” she burst through the doors, your mother rolling her eyes after being startled half to death over her bizarre behavior. “is my little niece gonna be a figure skater like me?!”

you gasped excitedly upon seeing her, getting up from your spot on the rug and running over to akira’s open arms, leaving your coloring book and crayons behind as she swung you around.

“she started when she was six you know that…” your mother grumbled, folding various kitchen towels.

“but you just told me now that she’s not independent!” akira countered, setting you down and holding you out at arms length, eyes wide and eager. “—but partner figure skating! like me!”

she shook you. “where is he?! your partner! is he here? is he your age? is he nice?”

you perked up and looked over to the kitchen. “oh mommy! satoru should come and meet—”

“his name is satoru? oh my goodness how cuteeee!” she cooed, pinching your cheeks. “is he handsome? do you like him? do you have a crush on him—”

your little cheeks blazed as your mother threw a kitchen towel at her.

“she’s eight aki! jesus christ.”

“love has no limits.” akira wiggled a finger, and you giggled.

your mother called satoru’s place soon after, his mother excitedly conversing over the other line about how the akira was finally back in town and how satoru was gonna lose his mind once he saw her— you knowing he was the biggest fan and sometimes told you facts during lessons that you didn’t even know about your own aunt.

and when they finally did arrive, satoru was stiff— frozen in place with tight arms at his sides by the living room as his alarmed big blue eyes looked at akira with a sickly pale face, you snickering behind him.

“hi satoru!” akira greeted, leaning down with her hands on her knees to look at him at eye level. “it’s nice to meet you! y/n tells me you like my skating?”

“u—uhuh.” he responded dumbly, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, knowing satoru would cry and whine about it later if he heard you.

“that’s great! i’m happy you skate too… and with my niece i should say!” she spoke kindly, ruffling his snowy colored hair up and standing upright, placing her hands on her hips and looking like a straight freaking superhero in satoru’s eyes. “you wanna compete in the olympics?”

“uh huh.”

a laughing breath hurled from your throat and your cheeks puffed up like a squirrel, clasped hands still over your mouth and face going red from how hard you were trying to keep it in.

“that’s what i like to hear.” she smiled, a shiny impressive one as satoru still stood there in a stuck daze.

“work hard okay? the both of you. so you can catch up to me someday, yeah?”

your hands slowly fell from your mouth then, eyes filled with admiration and determination as you both eagerly nodded, looking at each other hopefully.

“you think—” satoru stammered, looking at akira. “you think we can… win three gold medals like you?”

“oh absolutely!” she shrugged. “i don’t doubt it at all.”

you and satoru gushed, glittering little eyes as you stared up cutely at akira, her giving you both a silly grin.

“how long have they been doing partner work?” she asked your mother suddenly, watching the way you and satoru chattered then excitedly about the actual possibility of competing for the olympics someday.

“mmm, i wanna say for about a year and a half? maybe two?” she looked over at satoru’s mother, who nodded in agreement. “they’re with a couple’s figure skating coach right now.”

akira hummed and shifted her gaze back down between the two of you.

“i’m training them from now on.”

both mothers froze, eyes wide as they stared at her.

you and satoru hadn’t even realized what she said, still caught up in your little bubble of the olympics and metals and competitions until your mother caught your attention.

“did you hear?”

you shook your head. “hear what!”

“akira wants to coach you and satoru.”

his jaw dropped and he nearly passed out on the floor, you quickly grabbing his shoulders as he reeled over.

“are— are you sure?” your mother continued, looking at her sister now. “aren’t you busy? i thought you were only here for the weekend.”

she waved her off. “i need a break from skating for a little… at least until the next olympics.”

akira turned to you then and smiled warmly. “and i wanna coach my little niece and her new buddy! if that’s okay?”

“yesyesyesyes!—”

both you and satoru bounced up and down and cheered, arms up as you tackled and hung off of akira like a jungle gym, her laughing and smiling big at your enthusiasm.

akira was the most important figure in your life, right next to satoru as she became a mother figure to the both of you as well as your mentor.

and training with her was not easy— your age not an excuse at all whatsoever in her eyes to not learn proper figure skating moves and technique, saying it would only serve you right in the end if you started adapting your bodies to it now rather than later.

and like most things, akira was right. but even though practices were grueling and tough to the point where you had to drag satoru across the ice to get up, she always tried to make them fun in the end— cracking jokes and teaching you guys silly little tricks that you could do with each other on the ice that she figured out over her years of skating with her partner, taking you both out for ice cream frequently after and telling you of her travels competing around the world, the people she’d met, and the titles she’d won— all things that were you and satoru’s ultimate dream as you listened eagerly.

by the time you were twelve and satoru was thirteen, it was obvious you guys were meant to be olympic athletes together.

“you need to pick your leg a little further up on the spin, toru.”

he stuck his tongue out. “says who.”

“says me.” you poked his cheek. “and i’m pretty sure aki told you before she left too.”

“yes ma’am!” he nodded, gliding a bit further away from you on the ice before picking his momentum up and reaching you, him bending his knees and wrapping his arms around your torso as you both went into fast spins, one leg extended for the both of you as your arms gripped over his shoulders— practicing the routine akira had given you for your upcoming competition.

“yeah like that!” you smiled, spins gradually slowing down and satoru coming back up from his bend until you both stood still on the ice. “good job toru!”

he grinned and ruffled your hair. “thanks!”

“mhm!” you responded, turning and skating away to the edge of the rink to hide the blush that was rising in your cheeks.

“what?!” he whined. “where are you going? do i stink?”

“no!” you laughed, shaking your head. “just the usual sweat and B.O.”

“aw no!” he quickly skated to the edge of the rink and out before flying for his duffel bag. “i hate being a man i hate puberty this is ridiculous—”

“i’m kidding im kidding!” you called from across the ice, cackling when he stopped and whipped his head over, glaring at you. “you’re fine toru— not stinky.”

“well you’re stinky for putting me in distress how about that?” he huffed, an eventual smile playing at his lips as he put down his duffel bag and went inside the rink again.

akira was currently on her way to compete at the olympics for her fourth gold medal in partner figure skating, you and satoru having no doubt in your minds that she was going to absolutely clear everyone else there and get it, as she’s never gotten silver or bronze or anything lower than that.

“when do we fly to see aki again?” satoru called from across the ice, gliding to and fro in figure eights. “don’t say tomorrow morning because i haven’t started packing yet heh… oops.”

you giggled. “it is tomorrow morning, dummy.”

“no!” he stopped and shoved his hands in his hair. “i haven’t even started planning my outfits! oh i was gonna take so many pictures what am i supposed to do now—”

you laughed loudly and skated back over to him, hands wrung behind your back as you looked at him cheekily. “you’re silly toru. outfits for what? literally just show up.”

“it’s not everyday we leave the country y/n!” he whined. “i wanted to sport my best and look cool, dang it.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and lifted your hand, patting his head.

“i’ll show up in pajamas and you show up in yours, and we’ll call it a day. hm?”

he grinned.

“matching? or seperate? and what color? plaid?”

“toru!”

he laughed and skated past you, nudging your shoulder with his in the process. “i’m just messing with youuu, matching obviously!”

satoru came back around, reached up and straightened the ribbons in your hair, little white bows sitting pretty as a blush rose to his cheeks when he was done.

“wanna run it three more times and call it?” he suggested. “i wanna make sure i get what you told me down before we go.”

you smiled and quickly nodded, taking satoru’s extended hand and skating together to first position.

watching akira win gold in person for the first time in your life was an experience you’ll never forget.

and she did it fucking beautifully.

with every precise move, with every articulate angle you and satoru screamed and yelled like crazy people in front of the rink while waving around your countries tiny flags, cheering with fat tears rolling down your faces when she successfully landed each time, holding each other so tight with mushed up cheeks throughout her routine with her partner and still in anxiousness when the time came for revealing final scores.

no one could skate like her. absolutely no one as she speedily glided across the ice and spun, prepped herself for the hardest most impressive turns you had ever seen in your life, and performed a quadruple axel rotation in the air all on her own— things that have always earned her the highest scores for three successive olympic years.

and four now— because when akira and her partner stepped up on that podium, you and satoru had to basically be yanked back by your mothers with the way you both tried to jump over the edge of the rink to her, her standing there like a beacon of light on the first place podium, a gold medal hung rightfully around her neck with flowers in her arms as she smiled so so big and happily, her eyes not once leaving you and satoru.

eventually when the ceremony was over, amongst all of the buzz and the crowd roaring and picture taking— akira quickly skated over to the two of you and leaned on the edge of the rink.

“akiiii!” you both wailed and flung your arms around her neck, her giggling and hugging you both back as best as she possibly could despite the mass amount of bouquets in her hands.

“did i do okay?!” she yelled over the noise.

you both pulled back and looked at her like she was insane.

“did you do okay?!” you gawked.

“aki— you won a fucking gold medal!” satoru yelled.

“HAH!” she laughed loudly. “don’t say that word in front of your mommy satoru she’ll chop my head off and kill me!”

you both giggled uncontrollably.

akira leaned her head in then and you and satoru followed through, all three foreheads resting against each others.

“listen to me for a second.“ she started. “you guys are birds of a feather, okay? you need to stick together and fly together as one.”

she let you both go and dropped the bouquets she was holding on the icy floor before placing a hand on yours and satoru’s outer cheeks, bringing you in. “don’t fight. don’t separate. don’t leave each other. you need to keep each other and what you have safe.”

you both quickly nodded, tears funnily gathering at the corners of your eyes at what she was saying, and she smiled.

“yes partner figure skating is about chemistry and technicality, but it’s about love… and sometimes just that. without genuine love, nothing will click.” she let your cheeks go and grabbed her shiny gold medal, holding it up. “this will be yours. i promise you.”

akira put down her medal, wiping both yours and satoru’s wet cheeks. “birds of a feather. stick together. keep each other safe. do you understand?”

the two of you sniffled and nodded.

“and i need to stop cussing in front of you guys during practices, don’t i?!” she smiled warmly, and you and satoru shook your heads frantically.

“no keep doing it!—”

“it’s funny please!—”

ever since akira told you that, it became you and satoru’s thing.

before and after every competition, with every hello and every goodbye at the beginning and end of the day, throughout the hours randomly whenever you both felt like it, you’d lock pinkies and reiterate ‘birds of a feather’ before kissing your thumbs and locking your promise in place— another one of the many other ways you’d show that you loved each other.

but whether it was platonically or romantically remained unknown until you both hit high school.

perhaps it had always been romantically… that you weren’t exactly sure of. but the way you and satoru had been treating each other since you were literally the age of six, made the technicalities of what it was blurry and a little confusing— for you couldn’t even remember when it was that you started loving satoru.

maybe it was that very first day when he skated over to you, wobbly and clumsy with a cheesy smile.

and as if it wasn’t already confusing enough of what the two of you were, the way you acted made it ten times worse.

but you’d been that way since forever— embracing each other a little longer than you should, innocently kissing each others cheeks and heads and hands, calling each other pet names and being each other’s dates to every single school dance—

but it was all harmless. not a single bad thought behind it and doing it like a reflex.

it was like you both were line balancing across the thinnest tight rope known to mankind— flimsy and unsteady, always on the verge of toppling over and falling completely into the darkening depths of the truth of what you were, but catching each other just before you did to regain balance back on the rope.

neither of you said it, but if you and satoru ever dared to be anything more than friends, and if something were to happen where you had to break up— you’d lose your first love, your best friend, and your entire career all in one.

the consequences were too drastic— you both knew that.

and you didn’t want to break your promise… so you acted blind to it.

by the time you were seventeen and satoru was eighteen, akira started training you for the international skating union competition to earn a spot for the olympics.

well— she actually started when you were about fourteen, but as the years progressed, her coaching and critiques got increasingly more difficult and nitpicky as well as the moves she taught you, wanting you both to build endurance to it and perfect it so that by the time you reached the age requirement for the olympics— it would be easier to train for it and be formidable competitors against the other pairs.

you and satoru wanted to be olympians more than anything else in your lives, and akira knew just how important this was for the both of you— making it her absolute mission to help accomplish solely that as she saw herself through the two of you.

your dreams were just like hers, and she respected and nurtured the fact with everything that she had.

“up! aaand up! and take her— throw— land oh shit—”

just as you had landed a semi complex throw jump, you lost balance and landed right on your ass, sliding across the ice on your side.

it was rare when you fell, and you absolutely despised when you did.

“fuck!” satoru quickly skated over to you and knelt down. “are you okay?!”

“why can’t i land that man?” you whined, covering your eyes.

akira smoothly traveled over to you both.

“it’s okay! we just learned it today sweets like— right now… you’ll have it down in the next five minutes.” satoru smiled softly, carefully helping you up on your skates and checking you over.

“don’t overly punish yourself, y/n.” akira reached and pinched your cheek. “i love that you’ve always been so serious about your technique, but you have to leave room for error my love or else you’ll choke yourself out.”

satoru ran a soothing hand along your back and you smiled cutely up at him, his heart jittering so much from it that he had to quickly retract his arm.

you nodded, always taking satoru’s and akira’s words seriously like inscriptions to a stone wall. “okay!”

he grinned and kissed the side of your head before taking your hand and leading you to first position like always.

akira smirked.

“are you guys together yet!” she blurted from across the ice and you both choked as she skated over.

“are we— are we—” you stammered.

“what?” she breathed out, placing her hands on her hips. “are you at least in love?”

satoru’s blue eyes bulged open with a furious pink tint to both of your cheeks.

“aki!” you whined, embarrassed. “stop it—”

“have you guys at least gone on one date?”

satoru pouted. “no.”

“i’m—” you played with your fingers. “i’m going on one today—”

“you’re what?!” he whipped his head in your direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“yeah…” you looked at him. “i’ve never gone on one and some guy at school asked me so i— i just thought—”

you thought it’d do you some good, since the one you wanted you couldn’t really have.

“are you actually..?” satoru trailed off, an unfamiliar strike of something in his chest making him a little upset.

but he knew damn well what it was.

“but—” akira stared at you wide eyed, pointing at satoru. “but it’s— it’s supposed to be—”

“aki!” satoru quickly grabbed her arm and lowered it, eyes snapping to you next. “is it that one guy you told me about? from your english class?”

“uh huh.” you fidgeted. “he asked me again and i felt bad saying no so i— said yes…”

satoru swallowed, nodding.

“oh you big dummies!” akira groaned. “we’ll talk about this later or else i’m gonna go into fucking cardiac arrest from frustration—”

she skated off to the edge of the rink and out, leaning on it from the outside with her head dramatically hung.

you both got into starting position, but you faltered when you noticed satoru was oddly quiet and stiff.

“…toru?”

he blinked down at you. “huh?”

“you okay?”

“oh!— yeah.” he smiled weakly. “i’m fine baby.”

“you sure—”

“what time is your date?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “it’s a bit after this... i told him to just give me time to shower and get ready.”

“if he can’t accept you stinky then he’s not for you.” he shook his head in distaste. “he’s already failing in my eyes sweets absolutely flunking. maybe you should cancel it? yeah i say cancel it—”

you laughed, heart in your throat as your eyes gleamed up at him. “i can barely accept you stinky so i wouldn’t blame him—”

“hey!” he placed an exaggerated hand on his chest. “it’s not my fault i literally put my heart and soul out on the ice just for you to skate all over me—”

you gasped offendedly. “i don’t skate all over you—”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do to—”

“you guys!” akira called. “you know i love it when you guys love on each other it makes me so happy and envision your wedding but right now we have to grind!”

you both froze up and snapped your heads in her direction with red faces, whining.

“aakkiii!—”

you practiced what you had of the routine a couple of more times, a few new moves and jumps added after each run until akira called it a day upon noticing you and satoru were practically sweating your asses off and messing up several times out of exhaustion.

“good job today you guys!” she smiled, patting you both on your shoulders. “i feel like the next time we meet we’ll have the choreography down... from there we just need to perfect it and you should be good for the next competish, okay?”

you both nodded and thanked her, sweet smiles on your faces as she reached up and pinched a side of both your cheeks.

“my little babies.” she cooed. “oh how you’ve grown! you guys were so little when we started now satoru is huge man jesus christ—”

she lifted her hand and reached up to measure satoru’s height from his forehead, her passing it over the top of her head and eyes widening at the huge gap.

he laughed and puffed up his chest. “i got big and strong too aki see?” he flexed an arm. “see? eh?”

“that you did!” she laughed brightly, ruffling up his hair. “the strongest.”

you giggled and skated over to the edge of the rink to pack up, internally panicking a little that you guys went overtime and it was almost time for your date.

“satoru..” akira whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren’t listening. “what’s going on? you still haven’t asked her out? i thought you said you were gonna do it.”

“no..” he mumbled. “but we can’t. and she knows that too so— so what am i supposed to do—”

she gawked. “do you not see what’s happening?! she’s gonna go on a date with someone else! off with this stupid fear you guys have already seriously.”

“we caan’tt aki.” he pushed sadly. “it’s too risky.”

“but it’s not though!” she threw her arms out. “you guys have known each other since practically birth i feel like if it wasn’t meant to be you would’ve separated by now!”

satoru gnawed at his bottom lip in thought, eyes trained to the way your bows moved in your hair as you swung your duffel bag over yourself, smiling softly once he realized you had kindly packed his things for him too as you sat on the bench and waited for him to take you home.

akira sighed.

“it’s not my place to tell you guys what to do… but love has no limits. you know that.”

he nodded, smiling weakly at her as they skated out of the rink and prepared to lock up, akira hugging you both goodbye with a family kiss to your cheeks and you separating ways with her for the day, but not before her reminding you guys of practice tomorrow and that she loved you over her shoulder.

satoru was dreading you going on your date as he drove— the both of you normally talking about random things like always but his mind unable to stray from the fact that you were actually giving some random dingbat a chance.

it was rare when either of you would talk to or date other people, never even as your heads have always been so focused on figure skating and competitions… but also on each other— taking care and loving one another that you never needed anybody else since you were everything to satoru and satoru to you, and you were both confident that absolutely no one could ever step up to that level.

so why were you going on a date?

but he shouldn’t be like this. he knew that. there was a silent agreement between the two of you to never fall off that thin tight rope and keep each other balanced. and you were allowed to see and date whoever you wanted— something that he probably should do as well to try and get over the fact that you’d never really be his.

satoru pulled up to your driveway and shifted his gear into park.

“thank you toru!” you smiled sweetly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “can i— can i come in with you? and hang while you get ready?”

you quirked a brow. “i thought that’s what we were already doing silly.”

“okay well invite me woman!” you both got out of the car and walked up the steps to your front door. “you can’t just assume. what if i was busy? what if i also had a date? hm?”

you gave him a sly grin as you twisted in your keys to unlock the door. “do you?”

“… no.”

you giggled and pushed open the door, the both of you immediately clasping your hands over your mouths to keep your laughs in at the sight of your mother sprawled out on the couch dead asleep with drool coming out of her mouth, the tv softly playing in the background as you quietly shut the door, went up the stairs and into your room.

satoru sat on your desk chair lazily while you quickly hopped in the shower to get ready for your stupid date, staring at the framed photographs on your nightstand that all consisted of you and him over the years, smiling softly at his favorite— a picture of the two of you when you were babies, cheek to cheek with huge smiles at the park as you held ice cream cones in each of your hands, satoru more than sure akira was the one who took that picture.

the sound of your door clicking shut pulled him from his thoughts as you walked in, drying your pretty hair with your little fuzzy towel and throwing it in the hamper once you were done.

“oh! i was gonna show you! i got these ribbons the other day—” you got down on your knees and looked under your bed, sticking a hand in and pulling out a white box as you picked it up and shuffled with your knees closer to satoru— sitting back on your ankles.

“—i was running out of ribbon so i got these!” you held up the box and satoru took it, examining the various pastel colors with warm eyes. “some of them are polka dotted and i thought that was cute.”

“it is sweets!” he agreed.

satoru loved the ribbons in your hair, and you’d always wear them without fail because you knew just how much he did.

“i wanna start wearing bows too.” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you giggled.

“are you saying you wanna steal my brand toru?” you picked up a blue roll of ribbon from the box, a color that matched satoru’s eyes. “thought you were an honest man?”

he gasped. “i am an honest man! is it not obvious enough when i help you with your math homework? when i sacrifice my dignity and text you answers during your tests?”

you giggled and unrolled a strand of ribbon. “not when you eat all of my sweets that you actively dig through my room for—”

“but they’re always the strawberry gummy puffs!” he whined. “they make me a slut.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and stood, grabbing your little scissors and snipping off a piece of blue ribbon from the roll, stepping in front of satoru and leaning.

“watcha doing?” he asked, placing his hands on your waist.

“i’m putting a little bow in your hair before i leave!”

he hummed. “don’t think it’ll look as good on me as they do on you.”

you blushed, taking little pieces of white hair from the top of his head and wrapping the ribbon around, tying it the same way you’ve been doing for yourself since you were the age of nine.

you took a step back once you were finished and laughed. “you look cute toru!”

he raised a silly brow. “do i still look big and strong?”

“big and strong and pretty—”

“please don’t go.”

you stilled.

“what?”

satoru looked down, his bangs hiding his gorgeous eyes as he did.

“on your date.” he mumbled. “don’t go.”

you placed your hands softly on his shoulders, and his hold tightened a little around your waist.

“why?”

“because like i said if he doesn’t accept you stinky then he can’t have you when you smell like vanilla—”

“toru...” you spoke sternly, softly. “why not?”

you didn’t know why you were pushing it so much… maybe you were trying to see if you could get it out of him— if he had the will to actually say it unlike you…

and you hoped to god he would say it.

he slowly lifted his head and propped his chin up on your tummy, a sour expression on his face as he puckered his lips to the side like a little fish.

“dunno…” he muttered, his gaze flickering to yours and a sense of guilt swarming his chest at the uneasy look you had, his face relaxing as he sighed.

“sorry.” he smiled sheepishly, pulling back and letting go of your waist. “i’m kidding you have every right to—”

“m’not going.” you mumbled as you slid your hands away, looking down and playing with your fingers.

“huh?” he furrowed his brows. “no baby go you should go—”

“i don’t want to.”

you never did in the first place. you had foolishly thought that letting someone else in like this would be good for you and help you establish some sort of… barrier with satoru so you weren’t always suffering so fucking much.

but you were absolutely stupid for that.

all you’ve ever wanted was satoru, and doing something to pull you away from the type of relationship you had with him (whether platonic or romantic you had no freaking clue), was not only hurting you, but hurting him.

you didn’t need anyone else, truly. all you needed was satoru and his silly smile and dramatic antics— to spend time with just him and skate and eat dinner together after practices every night while watching horror movies, laughing so much over his screams that your stomach hurt while he whined about how you were making fun of him.

that’s all you needed… just satoru.

regardless if there was something more in question.

“you don’t want to?” he repeated softly. “why?”

“you know why, toru…”

you had said it so softly he barely caught it, but he did, his breath hitching in his throat.

that was the closest you two had ever gotten to acknowledging it.

you both were silent for a moment, the soft murmur of your tv downstairs filling the void as you looked at each other, tense and waiting for either of you to say something… anything.

but it was like the gravity of the foreseeable consequences settled onto your shoulders, and the pair of you could only sadly smile.

satoru stuck his pinky finger out towards you then.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured.

you breathed out a little through your nose and looped your pinky with his, nodding.

“birds of a feather.”

he kissed his thumb and you did the same before locking the promise.

for the rest of the night, you and satoru watched a bunch of shitty unknown movies to try and see who would break and laugh first— you feeling bad that you had to cancel so last minute on that guy from your english class, but not regretting it at all as you watched satoru scarf down two slices of pizza in one sitting and nearly throw up, you almost falling off the bed from laughing so much and him having to catch you midway down and pull you back up, saying that he was your hero and therefore you should give him your last stash of strawberry gummy puffs as a reward.

it was nearly two am when you and satoru finally settled down, both sprawled over each other on the bed as you stared up at the ceiling and talked about literally anything that came to your minds— stubbornly fighting off sleep for whatever unknown reason in the dark.

“you know this is aki’s last olympics right?” you spoke softly, your arm propped up as you watched the way satoru played with your fingers.

“yeah..” he replied. “i don’t really know how to feel about that.”

“me neither.” you shook your head. “but she said it came at a perfect time because she’d been wanting to retire for a while.”

and now it was yours and satoru’s turn to try and fill the legacy she had built.

he hummed, delicately interlacing your fingers together as the outline of it through the darkness made you blush and smile, the nooks between his digits blessedly made entirely just for you as your fingers slotted perfectly in each spot every time.

and satoru silently vowed for the millionth time in his life that he would always be your hero and keep you safe, a promise that was already tied into your birds of a feather contract, but needing to repeat it to himself anyways while he listened to the sound of your voice talk about your excitement for the upcoming olympics.

and my god were you excited, the both of you— looking forward to seeing akira gracefully take home her fifth fucking gold medal like she always did with no repercussions, seeing her fans and the mass amounts of support she got every year with bouquets and teddy bears and picture taking, but also looking forward to spending even more time with her— for not just practices… but for forever, even more than you already did now as you two were greedy and just loved akira.

you were looking forward to forever, the three of you.

until akira’s accident.

“oh my god i’m gonna throw up—”

satoru hurled over just as you both stepped onto the bleachers at the olympic arena, you laughing and placing supporting hands on his shoulders as you followed your mother and satoru’s to your designated place by the front.

“toru i told you you’d make yourself sick if you didn’t leave that damn dessert table alone.”

“there were cinnamon rolls baby. cinnamon rolls how on earth could i possibly just walk by a platter of cinnamon rolls—”

“okay!” you giggled, carefully leading him to sit down and ruffling his hair once you settled. “i get it! you love cinnamon rolls.”

“not as much as i love you—”

“yuck!” you stuck your tongue out and pushed him away by his cheek, him laughing loudly as he shooed your arm away and grinned.

“toru— this is the last time we’re gonna be sitting here in the bleachers watching aki.” you mentioned. “isn’t that fucking nuts?”

“now i’m gonna cry and throw up.”

“no!” you giggled and nudged his shoulder. “then you’ll make me cry.”

he smiled and leaned over to plant a quick kiss to your cheek, reaching up and fixing the bows in your hair before looking straight ahead, his sparkling blue eyes staring at the rink.

the crowd roared suddenly and a mix of big and tiny flags of several individual countries waved in the air as you and satoru jumped and screamed when akira glided out with her skates and glittery dress, a huge dazzling smile on her face as she waved at the crowd, her eyes scanning around quickly before they finally landed on you and satoru.

as if she wasn’t already smiling enough, it grew bigger at the sight of you both practically over the fucking rink calling her name, her blowing you both a kiss and connecting her hands together to form a little bird, fluttering it up funnily and making you laugh before spinning around and going to starting position with her partner.

“oh she’s gonna wipe again.” satoru breathed out. “wipe absolute buttcheeks.”

you cackled as you both watched her routine— incredibly fast paced and technical, filled with spins and throw jumps and lifts as she made it known that it was her last year and wanted to leave with a mark, you and satoru absolutely mesmerized by the choreography as a dramatic symphony of a classical piece drummed through your ears by the speakers.

each move was executed beautifully, you and satoru at the edge of your damn seats as akira’s partner lifted her by the arms to settle over his shoulders into a split formation— halfway through the routine already.

“maybe we could do a move like that for when we compete!” you suggested over the music. “i feel like technically it could—”

a hand flew over your mouth as you watched akira topple and slam to the ground upon coming down from her split lift, the spinning blade of her partner slicing through her abdomen as her head nastily collided with the ice— the crowd screaming in terror.

“oh my god!—” your chest moved frantically and you and satoru looked at each other, horrified faces as you watched the backside of her limp body on the ground surrounded by paramedics, her partner hovering over her in complete and absolute distress.

and there was so much blood.

blood that pooled all around her figure and stained her shimmering dress, blood that wouldn’t stop fucking spreading as a stretcher finally made it out on the ice.

“baby.” satoru’s voice shook. “why isn’t aki moving.”

“i— i don’t know—”

“aki!”

you both snapped out of your shocked daze and screamed over the rink and jumped, shoes slipping against the ice as the two of you tried to reach her through your panicked tears and calls, security speeding through and pulling you both back as you watched the paramedics lift her frail body onto the stretcher and away from the rink.

“that’s—” you sucked in a sharp sob. “that’s my aunt please let us go—”

“you need to stay out of the rink—”

“fuck you!”

satoru shoved security away and grabbed your arm, wishing you had your skates on as you both practically crawled over to where akira was being carried out, not giving a single shit about the way your mothers yelling demanded you back as security had to literally pull you and satoru by the ankles, further and further away from the scene and away from akira until the only thing left was her pool of sickly crimson blood in front of you, you and satoru wailing.

akira died at the hospital later that night.

the collision of her head against the ice brought such blunt force trauma that it caused irreversible brain damage, and with the amount of blood that she was already losing from the laceration of the blade— those elements combined didn’t give her a single fighting chance at survival, her fate sealed from the moment her body hit the ground.

it was completely unexpected… an incident like that had never happened in not just olympic partner figure skating, but figure skating competitions as a whole— the severity of the situation so grave that the complex move akira and her partner performed that led to her death was banned from the olympics moving forward.

and you and satoru were fucking ruined.

ruined and crying and clutching over her arms and hands at her hospital bedside, it scaringly cold and stiff and not her usual warmth at all as you couldn’t accept that this was your reality, that akira had left you both all alone after not only her initial familial love that you’d gotten since birth, but after nearly a decade of giggles and skating, her picking you both up from school and cussing up a storm because it made you and satoru laugh as kids, buying you ice cream and taking you out for beach days because she said the sun was good for your skin, harassing you and taking a million pictures of the two of you as she uttered over and over again that love had no limits— your dream of forever with her cruelly severed over the sport you all loved most.

yours and satoru’s mentor, friend, your fucking mother figure— was gone.

your aunt was gone. your own blood.

the entirety of that bullshit situation sort of settled into your minds by the time her funeral came— painfully holding back tears as your family members gave their speeches and final wishes before the lowering of her casket, you and satoru not saying a single word throughout the entire thing until it was just you and him standing in front of her grave site— your mothers waiting for you in their cars.

you both chose not to give speeches. you couldn’t.

“toru.” you sniffled, drowning in your tears as satoru strained to keep his back, lips pulled into a thin line.

“yes pretty.”

“this is so fucked.”

satoru breathed out a weak laugh and let a couple of tears slip down his cheeks, wiping them with the sleeve of his black suit as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, squeezing it.

“diabolically fucked.” he responded.

there really wasn’t much you could say at that moment in time, the two of you staring at the carvings on her tombstone as the wind softly blew over the petals of her flowers and letters, the day cloudy and cold and just fucked as you silently choked back sobs and whimpers, satoru lamely trying his best to stay strong for you— be your hero as he pulled you into his chest and squeezed you with everything that he had, nose buried in your hair as his tears fell and dampened a few strands.

“birds of a feather, toru.” you spoke softly, both of your frames shaking as the saying itself came from none other than akira.

he firmly nodded, lifting his head and kissing your cheek twice hard before looking at you.

“birds of a feather sweets.” his red teary eyes made your heart ache. “you can’t leave me too, okay?”

you scoffed and wiped your eyes, a sad smile on your face. “i could never… you know that.”

it didn’t really get easier from there, as everything in your lives reminded you of akira.

and though your mother was grieving the loss of her sister, she wanted to be left alone, and the only person that really understood the level of mourning you were on was satoru— him always there in the blink of an eye when you would call him in the middle of the night crying your eyes out while he held you, or when broken sobs wrecked through satoru’s trembling body as he cried into your chest while you held him and vice versa, endless amounts of ‘i miss her’s’ and ‘bring her back’s’ as you took turns depending on the day rolling on the floor unable to physically breathe over the loss as you tried to anchor each other back to normalcy, wondering how the world could be so cruel and continue spinning when you’d just lost half of your hearts.

but it did. it continued to spin and turn and carry on as you and satoru day by day tried to patch over what happened, be there for each other and heal each other as you graduated high school and caught up with satoru in college, still together and still in your stupid limbo of ‘is there something more’ except worse, and still inseparable three years later after akira’s passing.

it didn’t hurt any less, but the days definitely got easier… some harder than others as the time you spent with her became cherished distant memories, feeling eternally grateful for the way she raised and took care of you, for the work she had done, and for the legacy she had built for figure skating olympians around the world.

and because akira was so good and taught you both just as so, satoru and you had a little name of your own as you’ve been sweeping competitions since the age of thirteen, ninety eight percent unbeatable and competitive as other pairs always knew who you were the minute you stepped onto the ice, eager and curious to see if you would make it into the olympics when the time came just like your mentor had done.

some deemed it cheating— unfair due to the fact that you had a four-time gold medalist olympian training you since childhood, but that assumption quickly diminished after her passing when you both continued to wipe competitions and take trophies home purely based on your talent.

and you both agreed to continue your careers without a coach, a decision that didn’t even need to be thought twice over— and you were twenty and satoru twenty one when the time drew near to try for the olympics.

finally.

“my legs are gonna fall off and my balls are gonna droop to the icy floor if you don’t give me a kiss right now.”

“toru!” you giggled loudly, pushing his face away as he puckered up his lips and made obnoxious kissy noises, pulling you in by the waist. “toru focus we’re on a time crunch—”

“time crunch where?” he whined, stomping his blade down on the ice. “we’ve been at it for so long already i’m cold i’m thirsty and i think we should go to that cute christmas festival patch thing you told me aboouuttt!”

“right now?” you asked. “i don’t know toru… i had a set goal for us tonight and if we don’t get it—”

“oh you damn perfectionist.” he scowled, letting you go and quickly skating to starting position. “fine.”

you gave him a knowing smile and skated over to his dramatic sulking figure, kissing his cheek softly and wringing your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

“let’s run it three more times and then we can go to the festival, okay?”

he jumped up like a little kid, eyes hyper and wild. “really? honestly? truly?”

you nodded, gleaming up at him.

“is this a prank?”

“jesus toru you’re making me think i’m keeping you hostage here with how excited you are—”

“yiiippeeeee!—” he grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you before spinning on the ice, the both of you laughing as he roughly turned until he gradually came to a stop, big goofy smiles on your faces as he did so.

satoru loosened his hold as you slowly slid down against his body, faces close and lovesick as his half lidded eyes looked at you, lips stinging to plant directly over yours after so many years of hopeless pining and avoidance, still refusing to acknowledge the situation, but it glaringly obvious at this point.

“what?” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his lips as your blades touched the ice again.

he softly shook his head, blue eyes greedily drinking in your pretty face as he retracted a hand from your waist and brushed his palm over your hair adoringly, hand raising to cup your cheek gently.

was he about to…?

you swallowed, hands gripping his black t-shirt as you waited… anxious, hoping that he would do what you thought he was about to do.

but satoru squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace and quickly kissed the corner of your mouth before turning his back to you and skating to starting position— leaving you incredibly dumbfounded and disappointed.

satoru’s skin felt like it was on fucking fire as he looked at your stunning doe eyes blinking at him from across the rink, heart pulsing uncontrollably as you slowly skated to him and got into position, neither of you uttering a word about it as you ran the choreography three more times like you had agreed on.

you and satoru have had plenty of moments like that… but lately?

it’s been borderline dangerous with how close you’ve gotten to breaking your unspoken rule.

by the end of practice you and satoru excitedly packed up for the christmas festival, more or less stumbling out of the doors of the rink and locking up before throwing your things in satoru’s car and speeding off to the main plaza, cheesy dorky smiles on your faces as you babbled on about all of the things you were gonna do once you got there.

“the s’mores stand! the s’mores stand!” satoru whipped his head comically back and forth between you and the snowy road. “we have to go there and get five nothing less and maybe more—”

“wait! i wanna get some of that hot chocolate we got last year!” you quickly reached and gripped his shoulder. “the one with the chocolate bits in it! and the whipped cream! and the drizzle—”

“oh fuck yeah how could i forget?” satoru made a turn, the shining glimmering lights of the festival and christmas trees coming into view and riling you both up in pure exhilaration. “i gulped down like four cups of those and then threw up in a bush.”

you laughed loudly and shook your head. “i forgot about thaaaattt! toru you always shove shit in your mouth and throw up we have got to work on that—”

“no we don’t!” he cheesed, reaching over and patting over your hair— the smooth ribbon of your thin bows sliding underneath his palm. “i love sweets even if they hurt me. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. where there is no struggle there is no strength—”

“the only strength i see is a man hunched over puking his guts out.”

“hey!” he pouted, pulling into the lot before parking and turning off the ignition, the both of you hopping out of the car and locking it as you walked towards the main entrance. “and i’ll do it again so what.”

you giggled and interlocked your fingers with satoru’s. “silly silly.”

the festival was lively— huge decorated christmas trees everywhere you went as twinkling fairy lights adorned every corner and direction of the lots premises, several open stands that continuously wafted chocolate and cinnamon and vanilla throughout the entire night that had satoru practically floating through the air following the scent, kids giggling and running around as the soft familiar tunes of christmas music hummed in the background.

“what do you want for christmas, sweets?” satoru asked while chowing down a giant s’more.

“a kiss!” you quipped, giving him a cute silly look as you blew a bit of air over your steaming hot chocolate.

he stopped chewing.

“really?” satoru spoke with his mouthful. “i can literally give that to you right now c’mere—”

“no toru!” your cheeks buzzed a vibrant pink, completely flustered. “you’re supposed to say a big fat no!”

“now why the fuck would i do that...” he grumbled, shoulders slumping from disappointment as he took another big bite of his dessert.

you giggled, looking at him apologetically before standing on your tippy toes and licking a bit of melted chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

and he blinked at you, dumb and still as his cheeks copied the same exact shade as yours.

my god.

you were about to turn him into a freak.

“okay now you have to kiss me.”

“why?!” you laughed. “you had chocolate on your face! i was helping you out.”

“yeah right you little minx.” he scarfed down the last bit of his s’more and threw his little paper tray in the trash can behind him, putting his hands together and shaking off excess crumbs. “that’s actually the most torturous thing you have ever done to me.”

“dramatic!” you exclaimed, laughs escaping you and increasing as you watched satoru’s flustered face pout and glare at you.

you breathed in deeply and settled down, standing up straight as you took a tiny sip of your hot chocolate and smiled. “now i feel bad.”

“you should.”

“can you forgive me?”

“not unless you kiss me.”

“toru!”

“what?!” he pushed. “baby it’s only fair! really! just once and that’s it. a harmless peck nothing more we aren’t doing anything crazier.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip in thought.

technically he was right… it was just one little peck, entirely harmless and cute and wouldn’t have you both falling off of that thin tight rope you guys were still balancing off of.

this would only shake it a little… but then you’d be fine! right?

you were too far gone in the considerations of his proposal as you looked at his absolutely breathtaking blue eyes and face, somehow looking even more angelic as his pinky cold cheeks and nose and scarf covered neck did nothing but make you fall deeper in love with him than you already were.

how someone could look as good as satoru was beyond you.

“just—” you peered up at him. “just one peck okay?”

his eyes widened.

holy shit.

“yes!” he breathed out. “yes yes just one.”

“toru.” you spoke sternly. “i’m serious.”

he frantically nodded, arms already snaking around your waist and bringing you in.

you both couldn’t believe it.

you were about to have your very first kiss.

the two of you leaned in then— softly, timidly, afraid as satoru’s chocolate breath fanned against your nostrils and filled your lungs, lips coming closer and closer until they met in a simple, solid, tiny harmless peck.

satoru felt like his veins were about to pop and explode at the feeling of your delicate soft lips finally on his, the feeling actually fucking unreal as his fingertips went numb and his body tingled all over.

but it quickly became clear that it was not just one harmless peck.

because when it was supposed to be the time for you both to pull away, you and satoru only opened your mouths and kissed deeper— eyelids blissfully closed as your lips smacked so slowly and tenderly, the two of you actively relishing in the moment and just drinking each other’s mouths in as they moved and shifted, deep breaths through your noses as you daze-fully made out with the faint fuzzy sound of jingle bells and christmas music growing increasingly distant.

you tasted so sweet. just like he’d imagined.

but the moment came to and end when you both snapped your eyelids open in realization and released lips, pupils frantic and wide as you searched each other’s eyes for any sign of anger since you both had slipped up and did way more than just a peck.

but there was nothing. obviously there was nothing like that as your shoulders relaxed simultaneously and bashful smiles crossed your faces.

“you taste like chocolate.” he grinned.

you bit your bottom lip in a smile. “so do you.”

“twins.”

“uh huh.”

“i love you.”

you stilled.

you’ve told each other that thousands of times for years, since childhood.

you’ve always said you loved each other and have both known it was laced with those unspoken feelings you had, and you accepted that for as long as you could remember.

but somehow… in someway… it just felt different this time around. profound. more serious.

“i love you.” you responded.

satoru smiled softly and leaned his forehead against yours, basking in each others authentic infatuation for a moment before pulling away.

“can i get another s’more—”

“no!”

satoru ended up getting his second s’more, and you surprisingly ended up partaking in satoru activities and downed three fucking cups of that hot chocolate you loved so much, your tummy full and about to literally burst, but not really giving a shit as you and him were having so much freaking fun— buying little christmas trinkets from the santa shop and building tiny snowmen in the snowy play area filled with a bunch of kids (satoru literally making a tiny dick for one of the snowman and you immediately destroying it and wacking him), even skating in the rink but purely just for enjoyment and not a single thought of what you do professionally crossing your minds.

you stayed there until it was nearly closing time, money absolutely spent from all the things you bought, but your souls happy and warm as you happily walked to the car so satoru could take you home.

on the drive there, you showcased all of the trinkets you both had bought, a particular one catching your eye that you remembered you hadn’t shown satoru yet.

“oh! i got this one—” you dug your hand in the white plastic bag and pulled out a little snow angel, beautiful and glossy as the angels face blushed and smiled. “at the santa shop!”

“it’s cute baby!” he smiled. “for you?”

you shook your head. “i got it for aki. for the next time we visit her.”

his heart softened, nodding.

you and satoru tried your best to visit her grave as often as you possibly could, sometimes nearing four times a week to pay your respects and chat with her for a little while, filling her in a bit on your lives to bring back the feeling of what it was like to just talk to her in any way you could, like you had the fortune of doing once before.

“it kinda looks like her.. doesn’t it?” he questioned, pointing to the figure.

“it does right!” you expressed. “that’s why i got it… it reminded me of her.”

“she’ll love it.” he grinned, gently running the pad of his finger against your cold cheek before turning his attention back to the road.

you and satoru didn’t mention the kiss again as you were funnily still in shock over it, but the butterflies in your stomachs and the sole memory of it did more than enough as you climbed into bed with an already snoring satoru, him sleeping over for the night (when was he not) as you nudged your way under his arm and cuddled yourself in his chest, his slumbered state pulling you in like muscle memory.

you both only had two more practices left before the international skating union competition. once there, you and satoru had to land a spot in the top three chosen by the national olympic committee to earn an official spot in competing for the olympics, a task that was already vigorous and exhausting and nerve wracking, but one you both were more than ready for.

general admittance to competing in the olympics was essentially fourteen years in the making, one that wouldn’t have been possible in the first place if it wasn’t for akira.

“i think we should add a spin to this lasso lift.” you suggested, you and satoru taking a break from running the routine and standing by the bleachers during practice— watching a recently recorded take of your choreography to point out mistakes that flew under your radars.

“a spin?” he asked. “how sweets.”

“so when you lasso me around into the lift—” you rewinded the video and pointed. “since you’re holding me up over your head and we’re balancing with our hands, i say you maybe push me up to kind of like— propel me to do a triple rotation spin back down.”

“and then from there i catch you?”

“yeah!” you nodded. “and we’re traveling across the ice.”

satoru pursed his lips. “that’s kind of hard… you sure?”

“we’ve done worse toru.” you laughed. “i feel like this would give us more points.”

“oh it definitely would.” he nodded. “okay baby.”

“yay!” you cheered. “let’s practice the lift and propel on the mats first because if not i’m gonna eat shit.”

satoru laughed and sat down on the bleachers with you, quickly taking off his skates before standing and kneeling in front of you, untying your laces and slipping your skates off for you as you cutely smiled, him feeling like your little hero and knight in shining armor even if it was for something so minuscule.

he loved doing things for you.

in the middle of you and satoru practicing the move on the mats, your mother came in through the front doors of the ice rink.

“hi!” she greeted, holding up two wide rectangular boxes. “your costumes came in!”

“oh thank god!” you breathed out, satoru setting you down on your feet before you both ran to see. “i thought they weren’t gonna come in on time!”

“are they cool?!” satoru tumbled out. “do they scream please let me in the olympics?!”

you snorted and shoved his shoulder playfully as you unwrapped your boxes, your eyes shining in delight at the sight of your rhinestoned pale baby blue dress, a shade you purposefully picked out as it matched the color of satoru’s eyes— you lifting it with your fingertips from the box and gushing.

you turned it around and held it up against your frame as satoru pulled his top out— a white, tight long sleeved low cut v-neck button up that you already knew was gonna hug his yummy biceps so good, the thought of it making you bite the inside of your cheek as he checked over his black slacks.

your mother clasped her hands together, holding it to her mouth as her eyes gleamed over the two of you.

“i can’t believe it’s happening now.” she spoke softly, you and satoru diverting your attention to her and smiling. “for so long it was always just a distant thing you know? but now it’s here. actually.”

“fuck i know right.” you responded.

“language, y/n.”

“but i’m twenty!” you whined, pouting as satoru snickered behind you.

your mother rolled her eyes and cupped yours and satoru’s chins under her hands.

“good luck next week, alright? i know you guys will sweep.” she pushed. “make aki proud.”

the smiles on your faces grew, nodding as she squeezed your chins and released.

“oh! satoru—” your mother picked up her jacket and swung her purse over her shoulder. “your mom won’t be home for the night her trip got extended until tomorrow… you can sleep over at our house if you want so you’re not over there alone? or y/n can stay with you?”

“oh okay!” he spoke kindly. “thank you for letting me know!”

she smiled and nodded, hugging you both goodbye before leaving the rink.

your head whipped in his direction.

“toru if i sleep over at your house we can watch horror movies and actually scream as loud as we want without worrying about waking anybody up.”

his eyes bulged open. “oh my god you’re right! dibs i get to choose—”

“fuck!—”

by the end of practice you and satoru mastered the addition you added into the lasso lift, performing it beautifully on the ice over and over again until it was like simple reflex, calling it a day after a while and packing your things up to drive to satoru’s house.

you both took turns stepping in the shower to get rid of the sticky sweat that lingered on your skin, changing into comfy pajamas after as you tiredly settled in satoru’s big comfy bed— him flicking through his selection of horror movies and debating which one to pick.

“do you wanna watch something gory or just horror.”

“gory!” you perked up. “i need to work on not being so queasy.”

“but you seem fine when i throw up?”

“that’s because i’m used to it.” you laughed, head resting on his shoulder as he picked a movie and threw his remote somewhere across the bed, his arm coming to wrap around your tummy and pull you in.

it wasn’t like the selection mattered anyways, because fifteen minutes into the movie you were already falling asleep, hand resting on satoru’s torso as he continued to watch it— for some reason still wide awake even after skating for hours.

your sleepy sudden movements from your hand made him weirdly stiffen and relax every single time, your brows furrowing at the feeling and eyes fluttering open when he wouldn’t stop doing it.

“toru… are you still ticklish?” you mumbled sleepily.

he stiffened again.

“no.” he answered softly. “why..?”

you lazily grinned.

“youuu suureee?”

terror struck him as he sensed exactly what the fuck you were about to do.

“please spare me please spare me—”

you jumped on him and tickled his entire upper body, satoru laughing and gasping as he smacked your hands away and twisted and turned, his strong grip making it hard for you to tickle him at one point as you stubbornly swung a leg over his waist and settled over his lap, attacking him while he yelped and screamed.

“baby!” he gasped. “baby please! have some mercy is this how much i mean to you?!”

you giggled and finally stopped, hands retracting as you settled them on your hips. “that’s what you get for lying to me.”

“i was lying for my safety.”

“uh huh.”

you both grinned, satoru’s eyes occasionally flickering down to you straddling his lap with your pretty plushy thighs and blushing, trying to keep his gaze on yours to refrain himself from doing something a little too mental and weird.

but it was too fucking late, because it took no time at all for the blood to rush to his pathetic dick and harden.

surprisingly though, you were the one that was mental— the feeling of his cock against your clit undeniable as the uncomfortable shifts of satoru’s waist only stimulated it against your little nub and made you bite down hard on your bottom lip, shaky breaths leaving your mouth as it was getting harder and harder for you to restrain yourself from satoru’s godlike existence.

and your body was just not listening as you timidly rolled your hips over his crotch— your short shorts criminally thin as you felt just how big satoru’s length was, mouth watering as your palms timidly settled over his chest for stability, grinding on his cock harder.

satoru’s eyes were blown out as he watched you do something so— so lewd, his mind wandering if you were fully and properly there as something like this was absolutely breaking your unspoken rule, and you were more strict about it than he was.

but he didn’t want you to stop. god no.

at this point, you and satoru were off that metaphorical tight rope and hanging on by two hands— having both failed at keeping each other balanced as you rolled and rolled your hips deliciously on his dick, his chest quickly rising and falling at the feeling of your warm pussy over his groin and at the sight of you using him to get yourself off.

your little needy mewls made his hands tremble as he threw his head back on the pillow, eyes pathetically fucked out over something so simple.

“fuck me..” satoru groaned, hands coming up to rub over his face as his hips lifted to meet your grinding.

him doing that broke you out of your haze and you stiffened, satoru taking his hands away from his face with pinched brows at the sudden halt.

what happened?

“okay!” you laughed nervously, an alarmed expression as you swung your leg off of his lap and scrambled under the covers, pulling it completely over you as you shamefully looked anywhere and everywhere but satoru.

but he was out of it.

undoubtedly out of it now that you did what you did… wanting more, wanting all of you as he snatched the covers off of your frame and you squeaking as a result.

“why’d you stop.” he whispered, thumb raising to trace your bottom lip.

“i don’t— i don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“yes you do—”

“absolutely not—”

“i want you.” he cut you off. “i want you bad and i know you want me too so let’s just— let’s just do this once, okay? once please just to see what it’s like and it’ll never happen again.”

your eyes remained wide as you looked at his desperate frantic ones, his hands already kneading at your waist and thighs.

he was entrancing you into his proposal again, exactly the same way as when you both kissed for the first time at the festival as he leaned down and nibbled at your jaw, slotting himself in between your legs.

“do— do what?”

“fuck.” he mumbled, rolling his hips down on your pussy rough and you gasping at the sensation of his big cock against your clit again.

you whimpered as he rutted into you, hands flying to squeeze his biceps as his wet mouth moved down to your neck, licking and gnawing as he waited for your response.

“but isn’t that—” you stifled a moan. “isn’t that too far toru?—”

“please baby please.” he picked his head up and looked at you. “just once i swear once so we see what it’s like and get it out of our systems and never do it again. i promise.”

he needs to kiss you right fucking now.

your eyes fluttered closed as he continued to hump you, licking your lips as you weakly tried to look into his eyes.

“you swear?” you breathed out. “swear it just once and that’s it—”

“i swear i swear i swear—”

“okay then fuck me toru please—”

satoru nearly cried as he ripped himself away from you to frantically pull off his shirt and pants, him slapping your hands away when you tried to take off your own clothes as he wanted to do it himself— lifting your shirt over your head and downright tearing your shorts in half as he flung them down and across the room, your little pink bra and panties set actually turning him into a complete mess as he hovered back over you and shoved his tongue in your mouth.

you still tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

“been dreaming of—” mmpf— “kissing you since you let me, sweets.”

“yeah?” your lips moved sloppily with his as you snuck a hand in your panties and dipped your fingers in your pussy, collecting your arousal. “you missed me toru?”

“uh huh.” he breathed hotly against your lips, hand coming to slide underneath your bra to cup your bare tit. “every fucking night i’d jerk my dick dry thinking about it.”

his words made your clit twitch as you pushed him off your lips.

“open your mouth.”

satoru did as told without a peep and opened it with his tongue out, your hands coming out from your panties as you reached up and slipped your fingers in his mouth, his lips closing in and sucking everything you had to give him as he salvaged up your arousal.

“fuck—” he released your fingers. “is this from your pussy baby?”

“mhm.” you moaned.

your arousal was even sweeter.

“my god—” he grabbed your wrist and licked a long stripe up your palm. “you dirty fucking thing m’gonna have to taste for myself and see.”

you gasped. “what?”

satoru sat up and pulled your wet panties down your legs, biting down on his tongue hard at the sight of your angelic bare cunt before him, slick and shiny and pretty as you unclasped your bra and spread your legs for him— eager and ready and not a single other thought in your brain besides the one that was screaming for satoru to stick his dick inside you.

“toruuuu!” you whined. “quit staring and fuck me.”

his cock pulsed.

“patience sweets, i wanna taste you first.”

you expected satoru to just lower himself down and shove his head in between your thighs, but you were dead fucking wrong as he stood, grabbed your waist and yanked you high up, sitting you on his shoulders as you squealed and gripped his hair.

“wait toru isn’t this uncomfortable i—”

he scoffed. “fuck no. i’ve been lifting you my whole life baby this is nothing.”

your speech lodged itself in your throat as you felt his tongue lap at your folds and clit, slobbering and filthy as he ate and scarfed you down just like his usual daily sweets, you by far his absolute favorite as he slurped your little pussy up and made you squeal and moan.

satoru walked over to the wall and leaned you up against it, taking your thighs off of his shoulders and placing his hands underneath as he propped you up and spread your legs wider, your jaw dropping at his slimy tongue flicking and him slabbering his mouth side to side rapidly until your legs shook and you saw stars.

“toru—”

he grunted, tongue prodding at your hole and you jumping.

“i think— i think i’m gonna cum and i—” pant “i don’t wanna—”

satoru separated his mouth from your pussy with a squelch and looked up, smiling big.

“too bad!”

“but—”

he spit on your cunt and you gasped.

“i said too bad.”

he dipped back in and fully devoured you as you mewled, messier as he slushed his tongue all over and you’d never experienced something like this, something that felt so fucking good as you started cumming all over his face in record speed regardless of how hard you were trying to hold back.

“yummy.”

he let go and you dropped down as he quickly caught you, turning and throwing you on his bed as he climbed over you— wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking as he kissed and swallowed your lips up again.

“you want me to make love to you or fuck you?” he slopped against your mouth before pulling back, yours and his eyes fluttering open to look at each other.

your legs were still shaking by the eat out he gave you seconds before, finding it hard to get your words together as his handsome deluded face stared at you.

“i— um—”

he placed his lips next to your ear.

“you want me to fuck you like my wife or fuck you like a little slut? or both?”

“both toru please—”

he grinned, coming back up as he parted your legs further open and lined his leaky tip with your hole.

“i can do both!”

satoru pushed himself in and you choked, hands clasping over your mouth as you felt him bully his big cock through and leave you a blabbering crying mess under him— his chest heaving at the warmth and softness and stickiness of your cute gummy walls, his years of imagining and theorizing how you’d feel wrapped around his dick all completely debunking themselves at the real feeling as you whimpered and clenched your hole.

“jesus christ—” he shivered, swallowing thickly as his trembling fingers settled on your waist, him slowly reeling his hips back before pumping in. “you’re— you’re warm.”

you dropped your hands and wiped your cheeks as you hiccuped, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your walls incandescently euphoric as you embarrassingly already felt yourself wanting to cum again when he had just stuck his dick inside of you— you wanting to ride out this moment for a bit longer and not finish so quickly like you had done on his mouth.

“am i being too mean pretty?” he huffed, thrusts now quick and curt as he gripped your bouncing tits and pinched your perking nipples, the sight of your little tears shamefully turning him on.

you frantically shook your head and tried to clear your brain. “n—no!—”

“good.” he smiled, a little crazed as he let go of your boobs, placed his hands on the backside of your thighs and pushed your knees up to your chest, picking up speed as you squealed and whimpered, utterly taken aback by how rough satoru was being considering the fact that he was such a goofy and kind and loving person on the daily.

oh… what years worth of pent up sexual frustration can do to a man.

satoru whined as you milked his dick, wheezing as he hammered his hips up and slapped against your skin, your body jolting and bouncing uncontrollably as his bed squeaked loud and obnoxiously.

thank god his mother wasn’t home.

“i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this—” satoru babbled, his critical thinking out the fucking window as he just tumbled out totally random but honest confessions as your ears eagerly drank up every word and made your hole tighten.

“yeah?” pant “f—for how long baby?”

“for so long—” he whined loudly, fucking you faster as your mouth hung open and you gripped his wrists for support. “you’re everything i’ve ever w—wanted—”

“i— i’ve only ever wanted you toru— fuck! you’re big.“ you moaned, loving the way a huge deranged smile spread across his face as his hips pistoned into you and his hands pinned you down.

“cum on my dick baby please cum on my dick i want it i want it—”

your toes curled and you squealed, vision flashing white as you let out a high pitched scream at the intense buzzing feeling, your bodies hot and sticky and wet as satoru leaned over and shoved his lips in your ear.

“can i— can i cum inside?” he choked through gritted teeth as he came close to spilling his seed. “please i wanna cum inside—”

“but m’not on the pill—”

“please please baby i beg you—” hah! “i don’t wanna cum anywhere else—”

your eyes fluttered shut at his words and you quickly nodded, his hand cupping your face as he thrusted in one last time and pumped his cum entirely inside you without an ounce of hesitation for the consequences, his horny mind actually crazed and solidifying that there was no fucking way in hell he was gonna accept just friends from this point forward.

what a stupid thought.

“mmm…” you slowly moved your hips a little, feeling his cum all inside your ravished walls as you licked your lips. “your cum feels hot toru.”

not even warm, hot as it slushed and moved inside you with every movement you made, some of it dribbling and coating your outer folds as you bit your bottom lip into a smile and craned your head up to his neck, nibbling and giving satoru tiny kitten licks as he trembled and struggled to stay afloat and not give out his upper arm strength— trying to prevent himself from squishing you.

satoru pressed a soft tender kiss to your cheek then before sitting up and delicately sliding his dick out, running a soothing hand over your tummy as he did so and giving you a lazy smile.

he suddenly raised his pinky to you.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured, other hand running from your stomach over to your thighs now as he just lovingly felt you up, you smiling with rosy cheeks as you linked your little pinky with his.

“birds of a feather.”

you both kissed your thumbs and locked your promise, deciding then that you should probably shower once more before getting into bed to officially sleep— but deciding to shower together as you softly and steamily made out under the misty hot running water, body and mind relaxed as you just swallowed in the ambience of each other, you both not only holding on to your metaphorical tight rope with one hand now, but it actually on the verge of snapping as a whole and sending you both free falling.

and for the next couple of days, you and satoru were feral.

years and years of doing fucking nothing with pure restraint and fantasizing did a number on you both as any chance you got you were making out on your bed, his bed, and even in satoru’s car after your lectures— your hand teasingly going lower and lower until you’d shove a hand in his pants to pull his dick out and pump, your body leaning across the console and mouth going down to bob and suck as he moaned and pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail to guide you and your pretty bows and fuck your mouth just to hear the sounds of you choking, eyes from time to time frantically looking around to see if no one was around as you blowed him.

and you did that basically all of the time for the next three days until the final practice just before the international skating union competition, satoru physically unable to leave you alone and unscathed as he constantly pinned you down to eat your pussy or suckle on your soft tits, his hand tightly clasped over your mouth in your room when your moans would get too loud as he fingered you, his long fingers squelching and abusing your cunt until you were finishing all over his hands again and again.

but you two having actual sex didn’t happen again apart from that night— satoru a man of his word since he promised you would only do it once… unfortunately. but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do other things, right?

except by the final practice, satoru was absolutely fucked off at the fact that neither of you had brought up the potentiality of being more than just friends, especially after doing all of those lewd acts.

he was so sick of it.

and so were you, quite frankly, but instead of being completely over it like satoru, you were afraid… afraid of what could happen and the possibility of losing him if you both indulged, if you let yourselves put your freaking careers on the line.

and satoru was the one person you couldn’t bear to lose. not ever.

“we look good sweets!” satoru cheesed, rotating around in the ice rinks dressing room mirrors as you had your costumes on for dress rehearsal and refinements, both of you glittering and shiny and looking like a professional ice skating pair as you examined yourself, readjusting your straps and hugging your torso.

“cold.” you shivered. “maybe i should’ve had it as a long sleeve… shit.”

he laughed and placed his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down quickly to create frictional heat as you smiled at him gratefully. “nah, it’s cute like this! you’ll warm up once we run it a few times on the ice.”

you nodded, the both of you walking out of the dressing room and to the rink, skillfully putting on your skates before pushing yourself on the ice and gliding across.

“can you show me the uh—” satoru looked to the side in thought once he was on the ice in front of you. “the part where we skate in unison and have our arms up in an L? it’s in the chorus of our music—”

“oh!” you nodded and skated a bit away from him to demonstrate.

“i just wanna see if my form matches yours and we look clean.” he smiled. “and then show me the triple axel after that.”

you gave him a cute thumbs up and pushed yourself off, gliding gracefully and smoothly across the ice as satoru was supposed to be watching you to try and fix his form, but finding himself transfixed once again by the way you seamlessly skated with no sense of struggling effort— arms poised and flowy as your dress moved and fluttered with every twist and turn until you gradually propelled yourself up into the triple axel and landed correctly without a slip or wobble.

the level of difficulty and technicality you skated reminded him of akira— but your style, your movement, and the way you carried yourself was entirely your own.

you made figure skating look beautiful.

you were beautiful.

you slowed down on the ice and skated over to satoru.

“were you able to see? did you match me?—”

“you skate just like her.” satoru spoke softly, and you faltered.

he didn’t need to clarify who he was talking about, as you always knew.

“you’re just saying that.” you pursed your lips to keep yourself from smiling, or crying, you didn’t know.

but a compliment like that meant the absolute world to you.

“i’m not.” he shrugged, skating over to you and taking your hands as he glided with you to starting position. “you always have baby. and i know that’s what you’ve always wanted. i’m sorry i don’t say it enough.”

your eyes softened. “toru that’s not something to be sorry about at all…”

satoru was so kind.

you both skated together and ran the choreography a couple of times, spinning simultaneously and satoru lifting you again and again throughout the routine and still performing your lasso spinning lift successfully, arms around his shoulders and faces close as the wind whipped through both of your costumes and hair from traveling across the ice at such a speed before coming to a sudden choreographed halt at the end of your number.

you had slid down satoru’s body to plant your blades back on the ice when he had enough.

“please stick your tongue in my mouth.”

you choked on your spit and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“toru no! absolutely not we can’t anymore okay—”

“what are we.”

you froze.

“huh?”

“what are we.” he repeated, eyes dead locked on yours and hard. “are we together? are we not? are we friends? what are we—”

“we’re— we’re friends toru—”

“oh fuck no.” he let you go and created a little bit of space between you. “don’t give me that shit we’re not friends.”

“w—well we can’t—”

“i’m your man.” he stated firmly. “i’m your man i’ve been your man for years and i’m tired of avoiding this sweets! it sucks!”

“we’re putting everything at risk if we do toru we can’t!”

“i’m your man.”

“no you’re not—”

he cut you off. “your mouth has been on my dick. we’ve had sex. we’ve kissed we’ve made out we’ve told each other i love you if that doesn’t tell you that we’re together then what the actual fuck?!”

“oh my god toru i know i know!” you groaned, hugging yourself as you anxiously looked at him. “what happens if we break up? huh? what do we do?”

he shook his head. “we won’t.”

“you don’t know that.” you laughed bitterly. “if that happens we lose each other satoru understand that. we break birds of a feather, we ruin our careers, and we ruin us.”

“first of all—” he started. “our birds of a feather promise is to stick together, keep each other safe, and not seperate or fight, is it not?”

“it— it is—”

“so do you really think if we continue to keep each other in this fuck ass limbo of friends that we aren’t already breaking that?” he threw his arms out in emphasis. “we have never been just friends. i’ve known you for fourteen fucking years and we have never been just that.”

you blinked back tears.

“i promise you baby—” he slid closer to you and cupped your cheeks. “that we won’t leave each other. i will fight and try every single damn day to make sure that that shit never happens even though i already know it won’t because you’ve been made for me since birth and we haven’t separated since we’ve met.”

satoru wiped your cheeks. “but i also promise you, that if we continue as just friends, we will break. we’re gonna string each other along so fucking much that we’re gonna go absolutely insane and drive each other away. that is for certain.”

“but— skating—”

“i don’t give an ever living fuck.” he spat funnily and you laughed through your tears. “skating is nothing without you. all the trophies and medallions and the god damn olympics itself with that gold medal is nothing without you. i would give that shit up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you in my life in exchange.”

“and i would do the same for you toru!” you sobbed, his arms immediately wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in as you sniffled and hiccuped into his chest, him kissing the side of your head repeatedly and soothing a hand down your back.

“don’t cry pretty i didn’t meant to make you cry...” he mumbled, cheek mushed up against your head as your shoulders shook, a huge disgusting pit of guilt in his stomach. “fine it’s okay we can be just friends for a bit longer please don’t cry—”

“no!” you sputtered, pushing him back a little to face him. “i don’t wanna be just friends anymore either toru… it hurts me so much.”

“it does?” he asked softly and you nodded.

“it hurts me too.”

satoru wiped your remaining tears again and fixed the little bows in your hair, a soft liberated smile on his face as he reached down to cup your cheeks and bring your perfect lips to his, kissing you lovingly as the both of you felt like you could finally rest and stop ridiculously hiding your love in the shadows after so many years.

the thin tight rope that you had both been toppling over and rebalancing and holding onto to keep the other from falling, had finally snapped in two, and you and satoru were now in the darkest depths of the truth of what you both were.

except it wasn’t dark at all.

it was light and airy and heavenly, and you wondered why you had been so afraid when there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place, since the one you were falling with was satoru.

silly.

he pulled apart and looked at you, his striking blue eyes and white fluffy hair especially beautiful.

“tomorrow—” he began. “we’re gonna absolutely destroy everyone else there and land a spot in the top three, and then after i’m gonna take you out on a nice dinner and buy every single fucking dessert off the menu, and then i’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend. okay baby?”

you giggled then, the brightest rosy cheeks on display from the both of you as you eagerly nodded and threw your arms around his neck.

and tomorrow could not come soon enough, because not only were you looking forward to making your dreams a reality and competing against other figure skating pairs from around the world and the olympics itself, but also the thought of officially being satoru’s after years of wishing on little stars and day dreaming about what that would be like for hours on end.

until the moment was here. happening.

the indoor arena was electric and rowdy the minute the competition commenced, you and satoru in absolute awe of the energetic atmosphere as many individuals in the crowd waved their banners or screamed their loved ones names, an ambience very similar to the olympics as you both watched pair after pair perform their hardwork and dedication on the ice, goosebumps on your skin as you fidgeted and jittered.

out of twenty of your countries competing pairs, only three of you would be chosen for the olympics.

and you hoped to god you and satoru would be chosen.

“we’re almost up baby.” satoru patted your head, sitting on a bench in your designated area. “i think it’s two more pairs then it’s us.”

you nodded, nerves closing up your throat as your eyes darted over the rink.

satoru frowned.

“hey.” he placed a hand on your thigh, suddenly wanting to rip your nylon tights off so you could actually feel his skin on yours. “you nervous sweets?”

you nodded again, and he gave you a silly grin.

“don’t be! you’re literally akira the second. we’ll be fine!”

you laughed lightly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“and even if we don’t land a spot, that’s fine too.” he kissed your head. “it’s our first year anyways… we’ll know the game for next time and we’ll try harder.”

you picked your head up and smiled at him, his words settling your nerves just as soon as the last remaining pair took their places on stage, yours and satoru’s turn right after.

what you didn’t know, was that satoru was just as nervous as you.

but he knew you needed a rock and someone to comfort you— wanting to swoop in like a little hero and save you again… so he kept it hidden.

“fuck i almost forgot!” satoru jumped up and dug into his duffel bag, pulling out a roll of pale baby blue ribbon that matched your dress exactly. “you told me you didn’t have ribbon that matched your costume so i went and tried to look.”

he held it out for you cutely on his palm.

“does this one match?”

you picked up the roll, astonished and mushy inside that satoru actually went out of his way to find this specific ribbon color for you because you had expressed how unhappy you were with the darker shade you had, your eyes looking up at him in complete adoration.

“oh my goodness— thank you toru!”

you quickly undid the bows in your hair and slipped off the former ribbon, digging through your duffel bag for scissors and cutting off pieces from the new ribbon before looping them through your hair and tying, not needing a mirror since you’ve done it for as long as you could remember.

satoru’s cheeks went pink as he looked at your new pretty bows.

“does they look okay?”

“beautiful.” he responded, pecking your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the entrance of the rink.

“okay—” you breathed out. “this is it.��

“what kind of food do you think they’ll have at the dinner place we picked—”

“toru!” you giggled. “not now!”

he smiled sheepishly at you before leaning his forehead against yours.

you stuck your pinky out.

“birds of a feather?”

satoru grinned and looped his pinky with yours.

“birds of a feather baby.”

you both kissed your thumbs and once again, locked your promise.

the announcer over the speakers iterated your names and your country as you and satoru glided across the ice poised and graceful with your arms up, waving at the crowd and giving your mothers a special frantic wave before moving to starting position, unknowing of the way several other pairs and the judges themselves murmured about your reputation and your association with akira.

and you hoped she was watching over you both now. somewhere.

the music begun, contemporary and lyrical as you and satoru slid across the rink, already impressive and entertaining as you performed moves and lifts right off the bat, the sounds of your blades scraping against the ice oddly keeping you in time with your choreography as the number went on.

and you and satoru were feeding off of each other, the chemistry undeniable to a strangers eye that had no idea of your story as you conveyed passion through your expressions, each technical movement bleeding with the fact that you both had been olympic level trained since the age of fourteen and fifteen.

you were halfway through your routine now, the lasso lift coming up next as satoru harbored in his strength so he could properly propel you into that newly added spin.

you skated around him and he lifted you up into the air, the crowd cheering and excited at your beautiful remarkable forms.

except satoru’s hands were slippery.

why?

nerves. he quickly deemed it nerves as he had no time to deliberate since it was almost time to propel you up into the spin, his mind already racing over the fact that the slip in his hands was hindering his strength to keep you up there, and he worried that if he pushed you up, it wouldn’t be enough and you’d come tumbling down— hurting yourself.

but satoru had zero time to decide again as he went with protocol and pushed you up as hard as he possibly could and prayed you would go into your triple axel spin successfully and that he’d catch you.

but the minute that he did, the force yanked him back and his skates flew up in front of him, you falling down and your thigh hitting something sharp before you both went slamming to the ground— sliding apart from each other on the ice.

the crowd screamed and gasped in terror, sounds you were all too familiar with to what you heard three years ago filling both your fuzzy minds as satoru struggled to get back up, his head turning slowly around to see if you were okay and just sore like him—

until he saw your limp body on your side, your back to him with blood slowly pooling out on the ice and staining your pretty blue dress.

satoru scrambled up and skated straightaway in a panic to you before sliding on his knees as he reached you, turning you over and paling as he saw you were unresponsive and out fucking cold.

“baby?“ he shook you. “hey— baby—”

nothing.

why weren’t you answering him? why weren’t you awake?

his brain flashed images of akira’s body the day that she died, suffocating deja vu as the way you looked when he saw you like that on your side was a carbon copy of her from three years ago, his chest picking up speed as you continued to lay limp even after he shook you desperately numerous times like a madman.

and why was there so much blood?

blood that looked sickly bright red against the white ice, blood that stained his sleeves and shirt and hands as he held you up and supported your head, and blood that wouldn’t stop fucking oozing out of your leg as he trembled.

“hey— hey can you hear me?” satoru tapped your cheek rapidly, shaking you gently again with horrified eyes and still not getting a response.

“fuck! why is this happening this isn’t supposed to happen—”

how could he be your hero? how could he stop the blood and wake you up? how could he— how could he fix this how could he take it all back how could he fix this—

“no no no baby please—” he sobbed. “not like aki baby not like her man—”

he shook you again, your head lolling to the side as if— as if you were—

no.

“baby— birds of a feather right? birds of a feather we have to stick together you can’t— you can’t leave right?” he cried, chest heaving and vision blurry and you just felt so cold.

“you’re not leaving you’re not leaving me please not like aki please god—” he cradled you up to his chest in his arms and rocked. “you can’t leave me you’re all i know and i don’t wanna know anything else please baby—”

satoru’s frantic repeated heartbroken wailing echoed throughout the arena as the crowd erupted and moved around in hysteria, him still rocking you in his arms as he turned his head with terrified bloodshot eyes to look at both of your mothers, yours hunched over in a fit of screams and cries as his had her hands in her hair in utter disbelief and tears.

“fuck what do i do!” he sobbed, legs shakily standing as he slipped one arm under your back and the other under your knees, picking your limp body up as he saw a huge group of paramedics run over to him on the ice as he carried you over.

“help—” hic! “h—help me please—”

why couldn’t satoru be your hero when it mattered most?

several of them lowered the stretcher and took you from him, laying your lifeless self on it before hoisting you up and swiftly carrying you away, all of it horrifyingly and painfully similar to akira’s inevitable death.

were you gone?

satoru looked down and saw your baby blue ribbons on the ice, wet and stained with blood, once perfect bows in your pretty hair when he had you awake and breathing.

were you breathing? had you hit your head?

he couldn’t remember.

he couldn’t remember anything but your unresponsiveness, the way your skin was colder than the ice itself as he picked up your ribbons and looked at them in his hands— and the way your blood stretched over for what looked like miles and was still there.

in front of him. taunting him.

was the world so cruel as to take you too?

it wouldn’t. it couldn’t.

you’d never done anything wrong. you’d never treated anybody indifferently as you were sweet and beautiful and talented, always in servitude of others— in servitude of him as you taught him how to ice skate when you didn’t need to at six years old, you already kind and gentle at that young age when you could’ve easily shooed him away like a little bug and told him to fuck off.

and throughout your life too, as he was well aware he was an annoying dramatic piece of shit that whined and cried and ate your stashes of sweets all of the time— but you always just giggling and looking at him with adoration in your eyes, with your cheeky smile, with the little ribbon bows in your hair he loved so fucking much.

oh how he wished he didn’t always take your sweets at that moment. how he wished he wasn’t always an annoying blockhead and made you mad at times with his persistent personality and neediness as he stood there frozen in the rink staring at your blood— dark now and dull, wishing it was him instead of you.

you were knocked out for five days at the hospital.

you and satoru also didn’t make it into the top three at the international skating union competition.

you should’ve, as your score was already higher than any other pair there and only halfway through the routine too— but that’s precisely why you got knocked out.

if you had finished your number, you would’ve landed in the top three, but it ending halfway cut off the opportunity for accumulating more points, and eventually another pair surpassed your halfway score by two points.

but satoru didn’t give a shit. fuck the olympics and fuck the international skating union while your body laid still on the hospital bed for hours on end, him refusing to leave your side as he sat there and stared off into space with nothing in his head but hatred for himself as it was his fault that this happened and his blade that sliced you— eyes red and sunken and tired and refusing to eat or drink.

you had hit your head on the ice, but thankfully the trauma wasn’t anywhere near the severity of akira’s, it only inducing a strong concussion and sending you flying out of consciousness upon impact.

but it was the loss of blood that was the problem.

you had lost so much, too much of it.

it made you weak and frail and unable to do much and satoru worried that that’s what was going to take away your fighting chance of survival.

“you should go home satoru…” your mother sighed, standing by the door of your hospital room, her own eyes red and swollen.

he shook his head no silently.

“she’ll still be here… you need to eat something or sleep please. you look awful.”

satoru smiled weakly and shook his head again.

“m’fine.”

your mother pursed her lips to the side and she sighed again, nodding.

“i’ll come by early in the morning, alright?”

he hummed, giving her a tiny wave as she left and closed the door behind her.

satoru had brought a roll of pink ribbon from your little white box in your room, unrolling the pieces he chose and lifting his hands, taking the ends of your hair and trying to tie little thin bows the way you always did, but huffing softly in irritation when they just looked like shit.

he undid the one he was working on and settled for feeling the material of the ribbon between his thumbs instead.

satoru brought you bouquets everyday too.

sometimes three at a time as he continuously swapped out old flowers and replaced them with new ones, changed their water and poured fresh quantities into each vase to keep them alive, and often picked some more from the hospital garden when he went down to get some fresh air for a minute— the least he could do for nearly killing you.

and satoru had a lot of time to think while he waited for you to wake up— bitter and resentful at the world for letting him sit there healthy while you were out, so much so that he started thinking stupid shit like how he wished you would’ve forgotten him and dismissed his yapping dreams about ice skating when you met so you would’ve been an independent skater instead, so you then wouldn’t have gotten hurt by his idiocy and you wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed like you were now.

or swapped places. him instead of you so he could beat up the fucks that took akira away and beat up zeus or— or aphrodite or whoever the fuck that was responsible for keeping him from you so he could come back to you… unsure if you were doing the same thing as he stared at your resting face.

you should’ve just left him behind.

but he was sleeping when you woke.

arms propped up and crossed next to you on the hospital bed, his cheek mushed up on them and face to the side as you blinked your eyes open and was straight up confused, not a single memory of the incident flitting through your mind… until it did.

and it hit you bad.

your mind reeled with a pounding headache, tears prickling your eyes at the events that plagued through your mind— a part of you knowing there was absolutely no way you and satoru made top three and gutted about it, feeling shaken from the memory alone of you falling and hitting the ice.. but grateful.

grateful to be alive, for you knew akira wasn’t as lucky.

was it because of her that you had lived? had she pulled some strings to change your fate?

your eyes trailed down to a sleeping peaceful satoru, your gaze softening at how tired and broken he looked, bags dark and purple as he snored away next to you, your hand lifting and delicately settling over his fluffy white hair as you smiled that he was here next to you— caressing.

satoru shot up wide awake then as you jumped and retracted your hand, the both of you alarmed and frantic.

“baby?” he grabbed your hand and felt around it, feeling warmth for once as he stood up straight and shoved back one of the sleeves of his hoodie.

“you’re awake? are you actually?—” he pinched his arm hard over and over and you giggled.

you giggled— the sound filling his ears and lifting an undeniable dark ton off of his shoulders as he relaxed, tears automatically brimming his eyes.

“i thought i fucking killed you sweets.” his voice shook, arms gently coming around you and pulling you into an embrace.

“killed me?” you frowned. “toru what are you talking about—”

“oh god you have amnesia—”

“no!” you laughed. “what do you mean by almost killed me? you didn’t do anything.”

“i did everything.” he spoke flatly. “i fucked up that lasso lift. i pushed you up too hard and we fell. i cut you with my blade i made you bleed—”

“toru that was an accident.” you pulled back and your chest hurt over the devastated look on his face, wiping his tears and kissing his nose. “remember— aki’s partner felt just like this and we had to tell him too it was an accident. you can’t control something like that. at all. it’s just unfortunate circumstance.”

“i know but i still feel like—” he wiped his eyes and swallowed. “i still feel like i could’ve done something different. it should’ve been me and not you and i should’ve—”

“toru don’t even don’t think about things like that.” you shook your head. “there wasn’t anything you could’ve done, baby. and that’s okay.”

you gently scooched over on the bed and patted the spot next to yours, satoru immediately climbing and settling in, clinging on to you as he placed his head on your chest with his arm firm but careful around your waist, suddenly feeling how exhausted he actually was from the days he spent restless.

you couldn’t have imagined the pain satoru must’ve gone through waiting for you to wake up. you didn’t know how he even fucking managed as you would’ve been torn into bits and pieces not knowing if he was going to live or not, looking at his limp bloody body the way he had to look at yours and it reminding you of the event that brought you both the most trauma and grief.

you couldn’t believe you almost went out the same way.

satoru confirmed your thoughts later and filled you in on the results of the international skating union competition, rubbing salt into the wound a little more upon learning that you landed fourth, nearly there as you couldn’t help but cry a bit in your hospital bed when he told you that you could’ve had a spot, satoru hugging you and reassuring you that you’d both have your shot at it in the next four years.

your family was relieved that you were awake, tons of people piling in and giving you sweets and food that satoru hungrily eyed and gawked over, you laughing and passing him the ones he particularly enjoyed most as you conversed with your relatives.

and recovery was thankfully easy— doctors orders being just you taking it light and being careful not to bonk your head against anything, as well as taking care of the laceration on your leg— changing the bandage frequently every morning and night, satoru insisting he help you with that and with many other things that you needed as he tried to make up for what he still thought was his fault.

two weeks had gone by of just rest and peace and no figure skating, thinking you and satoru deserved this break, but also secretly petrified of stepping on the ice again after what had happened— neither of you wanting to hurt the other as you avoided the topic of training for the meantime at all costs.

“maybe we should work at a water park.” you suggested one day, the two of you seated on a park bench through the chilly mid january air as you shared a plate of chocolate drizzled strawberries you got from some nice lady and her fruit stand. “be lifeguards!”

“oh hell no!” he spoke with his mouthful before swallowing, readjusting the black round sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “you think i’m gonna be fine with watching random old men savoring after my wife in her little red bikini while i’m off saving some drowning kid? oh no thank you. let the kid drown.”

“toru!” you laughed, smacking his shoulder. “okay then what else?”

“janitors.”

you shrugged. “i like to clean. sometimes.”

“and your entire body is covered in those jumpsuits no stinky old men looking at—”

satoru’s phone buzzed against his jeans and he paused and pulled it out as you giggled, him barely glancing at the caller i.d before answering.

“hello?”

you mindlessly carried on plopping strawberries in your mouth and chewing.

“this is he…. oh hello! yes! how are you?”

you eyed satoru quizzically at his sudden formal change in tone, his eyes glued to the cement below.

“uh huh… really? o—okay! no yes for sure! thank you so much for the opportunity!”

opportunity?

you slowed your chewing and nudged his shoulder gently, wanting him to give you some kind of sign as to who it was on the other line.

“okay, we’ll keep in touch! thank you again!”

satoru slowly removed his phone away from his ear as the other line went dead, staring at his screen and you curiously leaning over only to see his call history log, a random number at the top.

“holy fuck.”

“what?!” you leaned in closer and tried to catch his eyes with yours, his shocked wide gaze slowly flittering to your face.

“that was the national olympic committee.”

you froze.

“shut the fuck up.” you covered your mouth. “toru what did they say what did they say—”

“one of the pairs that made it in the top three got disqualified.” he spat out quickly, shooting up and digging his fingers into his hair as he walked back and forth slowly in disbelief, spinning to face you. “i— i don’t know why i didn’t ask but we got bumped up.”

silence.

“we—” your chest rose and fell erratically, eyes darting around as satoru knelt down and grabbed your hands.

“baby we made it.” he tightened his grip. “we’re competing in the olympics—”

you squealed and jumped up and down and pulled satoru in, the both of you comically bouncing off the walls as you wailed and cried and blabbered on about how you couldn’t believe it and how a chance like this was even given to you, satoru lifting you and spinning you around but stopping and freaking out and apologizing profusely over your injured leg, you shaking your head and laughing, kissing him in return.

“we can’t avoid skating toru.” you spoke once you and him had settled down. “it’s literally what brought us together… and what brought us to aki. and even from you spinning me around like that it reminded me how much i missed skating with you.”

“i feel the same sweets.” he smiled, big and bright and handsome as he leaned over and kissed your rosy cheek. “i miss lifting you up and catching a glimpse of your ass underneath your—”

“toru!”

even though you and satoru were finally on board and accepting of bringing skating back into your lives, it wasn’t to say at all that the fear itself went away when you tried to do lifts or spins in the air with each other— apprehensive and scared as you practiced on the mats way more than necessary before moving choreography to the ice, satoru multiple times chickening out and needing a moment as he was petrified of hurting you again, and you glued in place at the thought of falling and slamming on the ground when you had just survived mostly unscathed.

but this wasn’t the time to be afraid over that anymore, and if akira were here, you both knew she’d smack you upside the heads and tell you to move… to get on the ice and do the sport you both loved and cherished most.

to finalize your dream and make it a reality.

and throughout the month that you and satoru spent before the commencement of the olympics, you trained like never before— no excuses as you worked tirelessly day and night with sweat literally dripping from your faces until every single goal was met and beyond, until every single throw from satoru was perfected and until every axel from you was delivered.

sometime during this month too, satoru finally got to take you out on that romantic candle lit dinner like he promised and asked you to be his girlfriend, him giddy and grinning the whole time and literally spoiling the moment as he meant to give you a chocolate dessert plate that said ‘will you be mine’ in chocolate syrupy letters, but accidentally eating it and smearing the words when he confused your plate with his, smacking his forehead repeatedly on the dining table as the silverware clattered— muttering about how dark it was and how he couldn’t fucking see, but you laughing so fucking much and clutching your stomach that your makeup smudged up at the corner of your eyes.

satoru was reminded again how much he loved you that day, because anyone else would’ve gotten tremendously annoyed and called him an idiot, but you…

you just giggled. giggled and hiccuped like always while he stared at you softly.

the love you and satoru shared stretched far beyond the concepts of what a platonic and romantic relationship was.

the love you and satoru shared was sacrifice. genuine sacrifice and yearn and absolute unadulterated love as you both without another thought would drop your careers for each other, would swap places if it meant the other would be safe from harm’s way, and would endure years of swallowing and pushing back feelings if it meant just keeping one another in your lives forever.

because that’s what birds of a feather was for to begin with.

a promise to stick together. a promise to keep each other safe.

a concept so pure and devoted that it translated onto the ice like no other pair when it came time for the olympics.

“you ready sweets?” satoru breathed out as you both stood in front of each other by the outside of the rink with interlaced fingers, shaking each other’s jitters out. “no matter what happens, we’ve already come so far and done so much, okay? we’ve done what we needed to do.”

“mhm!” you quickly nodded, satoru leaning down before you both rested your foreheads against each other’s with massive smiles on your faces, thunderous cheers echoing throughout the giant arena totally drowned out in your ears as you stared into satoru’s sparkling blue eyes.

“make aki proud.” you repeated softly, and he nodded, you hoping once again she was watching over you both.

you both stuck your pinkies out at the same time and looped them together.

“birds of a feather?” satoru beamed.

“birds of a feather.”

and you kissed your thumbs before sealing your promise.

you both watched the pair that you were going right after perform their routine, beautiful and difficult as you gnawed at your bottom lip in distress.

“toru…”

“yeah baby?”

“some of these pairs are crazy good…” you spoke over the music. “i’d honestly be happy with getting in the top twenty i don’t know if we can—”

satoru scoffed and shook his head, a sly smile as he looked over the rink with his arms crossed.

“nah, we’d win.”

and just like akira had done in her final olympic year— in her final moments, you and satoru made it known that it was your debut, that you had been hungry and desperate for this moment since the ages of six and seven, that you’d been raised and trained by a four-time olympic gold medalist for a decade as you executed the most technical and intricate moves and turns, you and satoru moving as one on the ice and identical as he took your hands and glided on the ice with you, raw emotion in your expressions that read love so clearly that it was impossible to miss.

with each lift, with each time satoru took you in his arms and spun, and with each time he simply held you close and tenderly to his chest as his blades scrapped across the ice with your pretty bows in his view— were all reminders for the two of you that partner figure skating was nothing without satoru and nothing without you.

the privilege of having another way to convey just how much you loved each other through the language of artistic expression and skates and ice, through the feel of each other’s skin, was one you nurtured and looked after and loved as the wind whipped through you and satoru due to the speed of your skates, performing quadruple axels like nothing while dropping the jaws of other figure skating pairs.

and because of this fact alone, how you both truly appreciated each other’s entities and had the indescribable power to correlate that into competitive sport—

was the reason why you and satoru won gold that day.

you and him, on your knees, gripping and hugging one another so hard and crying tears of joy as you both had come so far and gone through so much to get to where you were now, your dream now a complete and total reality as you stepped up onto that podium during the medal award ceremony just like akira had done— representing your country excellently with a big fat gold medal hung over your necks and a big fat kiss from satoru as he lip locked with you up there, flashings of cameras and bouquets and teddy bears scattered all throughout the ice in dismay.

“i love you!” satoru yelled to you over the roaring as you waved at the crowd, your mothers crying and blowing their noses and taking pictures from the edge of the rink as you and satoru cackled and pointed at them.

“i love you, toru!”

“no like seriously!” he put his waving hand down. “i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. thank you for recognizing that i have love and dreams too baby and for not forgetting about me even when i’ve been the most annoying dipshit of your life.”

“you’ve never been that to me my god toru! where is this coming from?” he hopped off the podium once you two were given the all clear and he held a helping hand out for you to take, you doing so and carefully stepping down.

“reeaally?” he cheesed, cheeky and silly as his big pearly white smile made your cheeks flush. “so you love me then?”

“i literally would not be with you if i didn’t—”

“hooray!” he cheered, throwing his arms up as flower petals flew from his bouquets and around. “my girlfriend loves me! and we’re gonna have rough passionate olympian sex in our hotel room—”

“toru!—”

the love you and satoru shared wasn’t something silly like ‘i like you, you like me.’

it was call me when you get home.

have you eaten yet?

here, let me help you.

whatever you need.

yours and satoru’s souls were exactly the same— blended, intertwined, and stubbornly knotted together as no amount of tug and pull could unravel you both apart, satoru finding over the years that loving you was like muscle memory from the moment he met you, his nerves and reflexes gravitating him towards you on the ice that first time even when he knew there was a huge chance of him slipping and falling, but not being afraid of it at all as long as he just got to you, convinced he knew you in another life as you just felt so familiar the moment he saw your pretty little face.

and you’re so glad that he did get to you… that he stayed with you.

fourteen years of ice cream trips and sleepovers and horror movies from the moment you were teeny tiny babies to adults, experiencing the hardships of your teenage years of loss and grief, to then adulthood and college as you had the privilege of learning to navigate it with another being that was just like you, two little birds with no sense of direction other than to each other.

and it was all thanks to one woman and one woman alone.

“i honestly believe that if she was there, she would’ve brought one of those confetti poppers with dye in it and set it off.” you commented, you and satoru sitting on the grass at her grave site as you leaned your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours, having literally just come off the plane from being at the olympics— your countries olympic button up thick jackets adorning your figures as your gold medals gleamed radiantly against the sun.

“i wish she was there.” satoru hummed, and you nodded softly in agreement.

“me too… but i’m sure she was! as a little birdie.”

he chuckled, finding your hand and interlacing your fingers as you stared at her tombstone like you’d done so many times before already… except this time it was bittersweet, you having accomplished what the three of you had strived so hard for at last.

“i miss her.” you murmured. “i miss her cussing.”

your eyes flickered down to her peace offerings, the little snow angel trinket you had gotten her still pretty and glossy and her as it sat happily on her stone platform.

satoru picked his head up and kissed the top of your head, propping his chin up on it.

“i miss her too baby.” he responded softly. “everyday.”

“but— i can’t thank her enough for giving us the bullets to fire with for skating.. y’know..” you ran the pad of your index finger along her tombstone, rough and scratchy as you traced little hearts along the edges.

“and she brought us closer together, did she not?” satoru pointed out.

she did.

a woman who was clumsy and loud and erratic with the biggest potty mouth you had ever heard that was passed down to you and satoru in the blink of an eye… but man did she know what love was as she taught it to you and reminded you both of exactly what it was each and every day.

you and satoru had accepted the fact that your hearts would never be whole again, for akira had taken half of them elsewhere and into the depths of the unknown.

but you were okay with that. completely and utterly okay with that.

for love had no limits.

you wanted her to keep it, as you and satoru stitched the remaining halves of your hearts together to create a new whole, as there was no one else you both would rather have that part of you with them forever besides akira.

and yours and satoru’s stitched up hearts grew increasingly bigger and fonder even after a couple of years later, even after winning three more olympic gold medals, you and him back at the same place in front of akira’s grave like always, sitting and laughing and chatting— but with two little baby toddlers that were half of you and half of satoru as they blubbered on about ‘mama aki’ and her trophies, a delicate twinkling ring on your finger and a golden band around satoru’s as your little family had a picnic over her final resting place.

“papa!” your son exclaimed, satoru immediately turning his attention to him in the midst of scarfing down a turkey sandwich.

“yes my offspring?”

you playfully glared at your husband.

“why do your eyes look scarier in the day?”

“HAH!” you slapped a hand over your mouth to hush your cackling, satoru’s face absolutely taken aback and offended.

“they do!” your daughter giggled. “they do! they do!—”

“baby do something!” satoru whined, shoulders slumping as he threw his head back. “i’m being bullied by five year old’s!”

you giggled and kissed his cheek, his pout quickly turning into a soft little grin as his face flushed pink.

“but your papa’s eyes are pretty you guys! and they match yours!”

“mmm— nope! scary!”

your two twin toddlers giggled uncontrollably as they thought being mean to their dad was the funniest thing in the world, you laughing with them as satoru flopped back dramatically and completely laid down on the grass with his eyes looking straight up at the bright sky.

“s’okay.” he spoke flatly. “if even my pretty little wife thinks my suffering is funny i’ll just burn my eyes to a crisp—”

“toru!” you slapped his knee. “too graphic in front of the kiddies.”

“but my suffering!—”

“mommy mommy!” your daughter tugged at your sleeve and pointed to the top of akira’s tombstone, a cute perfect white and brown bird perched up on the edge and peering curiously at the four of you, the creature not alarmed whatsoever of your children’s sudden movements as they scrambled to get closer to it.

satoru propped himself up with an elbow and stared before you both locked eyes, knowing growing smiles on your faces as he fully sat up— leaning and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting it linger.

aki.

and it was like you and satoru were reminded again of your promise that you still told each other every day.

a promise that consisted of your years together… of your love, of your undying fervor of sticking together, of your need of keeping each other safe…

of birds of a feather.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire

[chaosandmarigolds]

Ya know how everyone is like Simon is black cat energy- well, I don't deny he can be like that what I would like to counter with is black lab energy around the person he's most comfortable with

Simon, who drags you on his morning runs because he will spend the entire time talking about trucks or something boyish

ie: "And so then you gotta- baby? Why'd ya stop?"

"We-just-" heave, "Ran a fort-four miniute-" heave, "mile."

"Yeah? Cmon, six miles today."

Simon, who will do push ups before bed if he has too much energy and knows he will just toss and turn

Simon, who loops a finger in your belt loop whenever you're shopping because lord knows that man has separation anxiety

Simon, who did once hide your shoes when he knew you had to leave super early in the morning so you would be forced to wake him up to ask him where he put them

"Simon."

Hes been awake, obviously, the phone praticallly thrown at the wall when you opened the door was an indicator, "Mm, noo. sleep."

"Simon O'Donnel Riley I swear to god if you don't give my shoes right now-!"

"...I require somethin' in return."

"You birts and your taxes, 'm going barefoot."

Simon who loves intimacy, yeah sex but he likes being close, like if he squeezed you any closer he may actually break your bones on accident

Simon, who doesn't tell you this but that one time when you got the flu? he had the time of his life, normally because you're the one cleaning him up after missions, tending to his needs, and he liked being able to do the same to you

Simon, who has the worst (best) puppy eyes you've ever seen

"one kiss."

"I have a face mask on, do you want to kiss me when I look like a taxidermy panda?" You reply with a frown, book in lap and craning your neck to see your boyfriend from how he leaned over the sofa.

He blinks at your reply and the next thing you are aware of he's laying atop of you on the sofa completely trapping you under his weight, "Jus take it off if it bugs ya tha' much."

You playfully pout your bottom lip out, "But it's supposed to be on for twenty minutes. It's been ten."

"But I wan a kiss."

"But I want to have a pretty face."

Then it was his turn to playfully pout, "You have the prettiest face."

(long story short you obvious gave in cause...I would so therefore so do you <3 )

Simon, who goes from loving and doting boyfriend to scary military man as soon as he gets out of the car

Simon, who is aware you have a video of him baby talking that you took when he wasn't aware that you were recording

(yes based off that one tiktok, I laugh every time I see it)

Simon, who hates pecks but loves giving them, like this man will just hold your face and shower you with kisses for minutes on end (its his hobby or something)

Annnnyway thats it! feedback and comments, an alllll that jazz mean the world to me! <333

[cherrygirlfriend]

some of my best friend rafe cameron headcanons

warning: nsfw, minors dni!! my brain is just best friend rafe brainrot i'm so down bad for him <333 these are some headcanons i have for the best friend rafe blurbs and fics i've been writing !!! the sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated by the divider :)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ SFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ you've been best friends since childhood. he'd do anything for you.

ʚɞ spoils the hell out of you. he'd do ANYTHING to make you happy, buys you all the things you want, you text him that you're having a bad day BOOM there's three hundred dollars in your bank account.

ʚɞ whenever you're on your period he comes over with all your favorite things and reluctantly cuddles you (but grumbles about it) even though you know he secretly likes it.

ʚɞ he can't stand it when you're ignoring him. spams you with texts and calls. sometimes you block him and he deadass shows up behind your door begging for forgiveness and then fucks you until you cry <3

ʚɞ also whenever you're mad at him for some dumbass shit he does (bc let's face it he's a grade a dumbass sometimes) he thinks he can bribe his way out of it but you're just like ... bitch please.

ʚɞ the thing between you started when you drunkenly confessed to him that no guy had ever made you have an orgasm and you could only get off when you were on your own... and rafe was determined to change that (and he did. multiple times that night and the morning after.)

ʚɞ bought you a locket with his initial on the back (on the inside there's a a pic of you two kissing in a photobooth as well as one of you as children.)

ʚɞ you bought a watch for him for his birthday and he wears it every single day. your initials are carved in the back.

ʚɞ has a folder on his phone full of pictures you took together, and of pictures of you. password-protected.

ʚɞ sometimes you read to him and it drives him INSANE. he could listen to your voice for hours and hours on end.

ʚɞ you had always thought he wasn't a relationship person and that's why he didn't want to be official, so when he started dating sofia you had such a bitch fit. wouldn't talk to him for weeks. he tried everything, bribing you, showing up to your house... but eventually you caved in and you guys started fooling around behind her back (against the mirror) and although he feels kinda bad for cheating he just can't resist you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ NSFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ pet names. pet names. PET NAMES!!! his go-to are princess, angel, and bunny. one time you called him daddy during sex and he almost blew his load.

ʚɞ loves going raw and coming in you. makes him feel like you belong to him and only him <3 literally had you go on birth control bc you were getting sick of having to get plan b because he was conveniently out of condoms every time you fooled around and he swears he just "accidentally" came in you when he said he'd pull out. you made him promise that he wouldn't go raw with anyone else tho and he doesn't.

ʚɞ really likes missionary bc he loves to see your face when you come it drives him INSANE how pretty you look taking him.

ʚɞ giving him head whenever he's stressed or having a bad day. he returns the favor tho <3

ʚɞ loves taking his time with you but also really likes rushed, messy quickies whenever you're busy.

ʚɞ one time you guys were hanging out with mutual friends and when your dress hiked up, he could see that you'd written his initial on your thigh and it took everything in him to not take you into the nearest bathroom and fucking the hell out of you ... instead he did that right after you two left xxx.

ʚɞ literally takes you to buy lingerie... ON HIS BIRTHDAY... and you try them all out for him later that night and he gets to be the one to take them off. accidentally rips one of the panties he bought for you but he orders a new pair right after <3

ʚɞ chokes you. nuf said.

ʚɞ your phone's wallpaper is actually a pic of his hand around your neck that he took with his signature ring on his finger.

ʚɞ whenever you see him out and about with sofia you accidentally send him a pic of you in lingerie. then you see his eyes widen and later that night he fucks you so hard you leave actual clawmarks on his back.

��ɞ sometimes he leaves bruises on you, and even though he feels bad about it afterwards it also turns him on like CRAZY. he loves marking you up, and sometimes you end up with hickeys and your friends question where they came from and you just shrug. to them, he's just some mystery hook-up, but they have no idea it's your best friend.

ʚɞ you sometimes let him record you during sex and he watches the videos of you whenever he misses you. has a whole password-protected folder in his phone of your nudes and videos you took together.

[luveline]

oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333

ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k

“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.” 

Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?” 

“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.” 

Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been. 

(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.) 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.

“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.

“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.” 

“Yeah?”

It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?” 

He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?” 

“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.” 

“Too right.” 

When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.” 

Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I!” 

You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. 

“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.” 

You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.” 

The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.” 

“I do!” 

“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right? 

“I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him. 

You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real. 

“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away. 

He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands. 

You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired. 

You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug. 

“Forward,” you tease. 

You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?” 

“I’m wearing jeans.” 

“Did you sit down on the subway?” 

“No, I drove here.” 

“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.” 

“It was quickest.” 

You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured. 

“You okay?” he asks you. 

“Just missed you.” 

“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.” 

“Too much standing up.” 

“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.” 

You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose. 

“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.” 

Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly. 

He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.” 

You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?” 

Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.” 

You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.” 

[ddejavvu]

Also… your post about ani loving back scratches omg.. you think he’s into like reader playing with his hair too?? His curls, and even when he had short hair like wow I just know that man has the softest hair ever

happy may the 4th! send me star wars requests/headcanons and we'll have a party <3

i pictured this as tcw!anakin's hair because it was like the cutest little baby mullet/shag where it was growing and curling against the nape of his neck and i wanted to scrunch it with my fingers so bad <333

--

"Keep going."

"Hold on, hold on," You mutter, "My friend's texting me."

Anakin releases a displeased grunt into the fabric of your shirt, and you feel it where it lands warm in your lap.

"Easy," You tap away at the screen of your datapad, pecking letter by letter at what is shaping up to be a lengthy paragraph, "I thought they taught patience at the temple, Jedi Knight. I'll go back to playing with your hair as soon as I'm done."

Anakin grunts again, louder this time.

You don't dignify his dramatics with a response, and you continue typing, the lingering warmth of Anakin's hair fading from your fingertips. He lets you get half of a sentence more in before you feel an invisible tug at your hand, and it relocates itself against Anakin's scalp instead of where you'd placed it on your pad.

"Anakin!" You scoff, "Did you just force my hand back into your hair?"

He lets out a muffled chuckle into your sleep shirt, "Force."

"You are absolutely insufferable," You grumble, but you indulge him with the scrape of your nails against his scalp. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he burrows his face further into your stomach.

"You sound like Obi-Wan," He muses, "I've heard insufferable, incorrigible, reckless, untamable, unmanageable-"

"Unshushable," You add, still making a valiant effort at typing one-handed rather than returning your second hand to its rightful place among Anakin's barely-curled scruff, "Do you ever stop talking?"

"You love the sound of my voice," He accuses, peering up at you with squinted, tired eyes, "That's why you make me read to you at night."

"No, I make you read to me at night because the last thing you read was a users' manual for a landspeeder, and you barely even skimmed that," You scratch against the crown of his head and he groans, "I worry about your literary habits."

"I worry about your hair-playing habits," He reaches out to knock your datapad out of your hand which he drags back into his hair, "Come on, baby, you owe me three books-worth of this."

[orimuraa]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Gotta make that money make purse - OT7

(synopsis) ✰⋆�� when enhypen loves spoiling their girlfriend ༯

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ✰⋆⁺ fluff ✰⋆⁺ enha is richhh ✰⋆⁺ headcannon ✰⋆⁺ wc 762

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

he would probably take you on weekly shopping sprees at the very high end stores

wouldn’t let you buy anything with your own money

gets sulky when you do :(

he would give you his card whenever he was away so you could still spend

since he’s a prada ambassador, you have everything prada

he loves smothering you with gifts because this big baby loves you so much !! (pls never leave him)

he gives off penthouse vibes, not mansion idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

overall, he just loves spoiling you so much <3

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

okay here me out

he’s the type to surprise you with a luxury brand gift pretty much everyday

like, this man would be like

“surprise! i got you a chanel bag!”

my man is nawt here to play

he needs to make sure his princess is well taken care of !!!

he has a very very very fancy car that’s probably worth more than my life

and he loves to just take you out on little driving dates to random places to see the view

he’s just so romantic and loves you so so so much

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

my little jakey over here will never be caught not spoiling you

this man absolutely will go broke for you if it means you’re happy

you’ll be like, looking at something for a second longer than usual things and he’ll buy it for you

he saw that you liked a post of a golden retriever on social media, and bam! next day, you’re now owners to a baby golden retriever

he just loves spoiling you because you’re so beautiful and perfect and sweet to him that he wants to be able to pay you back somehow (even tho you told him you don’t need all these gifts)

gifts galore!!

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

he gives off the richest of the richest vibes

he’ll probably be the type to take you out to really expensive dinners and just spoil you so much

you would have an entire closet dedicated to the dresses and clothes he gifts you

he knows your exact style by now so whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s bought

he would make sure to remind you not to spend your own money because why would you do that when you have his money? so silly

he loves you very much and he likes to show that through his gifts sometimes

and the result of that is your room being full of expensive items that have been gifted to you <3

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

he seems like the type to be a very rich person who doesn’t like to show it off too much idk

he would spend his money on super expensive skin care products so you two can have luxury skincare dates

he is superrrrr rich but he likes to spend it on more meaningful items rather then luxury brand stuff

he would make sure the item meant something to you and him but also make sure it was the best one, even if it meant it was hella expensive

he will though occasionally spoil you rotten with a luxury brand item

he cares for you so so so much <333

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

kinda like, sunoo, i feel like he would be more about spending lots of money on more meaningful things then just straight up expensive things

he likes to make things have meaning to it and so whenever you see it, it’s a happy thought

because his girl always deserves to be happy and loved

you two would share a really nice and expensive apartment together and it’s just super cozy

you wouldn’t expect a millionaire to be living there i guess is what i’m saying

but he will not allow you to pay for your own things because why would you when he’s around?

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

okay, unlike the other maknaes, nishimura riki is going full out

he will make sure everyone knows how much he spoils you

he LOVES to shower you in gifts from gucci, prada, chanel, etc. because his favorite hobby is spending money on you <3

in his eyes, you deserve anything and everything <3 he just loves you so so much

he would definitely make sure to spend lots on your hobbies too

even if it’s something small like, for example, collecting sonny angels! he would buy out the entire stock just for you

alllll the furniture in the house is above $1000

have y’all see his $6000 couch in his room??? yeah, that’s what’s in your guy’s shared apartment

he wants you to be appreciated the way you deserve <3

✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡

sooo, new style today! please lmk if you like this style of writing or the other one better cause then it can help me and give me good feedback! tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!!

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)

here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[remuslupinslittleslut]

No, like this

Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.

And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333

Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn

Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.

You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.

James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”

He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.

James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.

“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”

It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.

Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.

“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.

He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.

His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”

It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.

You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”

Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.

Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.

And then… nothing.

When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”

Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.

“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.

Tagged: @remussbitch