#so yeah if you’d like to share i’d love to know !! <3< /div>
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eclecticbirdmoon · 12 hours ago
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Decided I’d share some info about my OCs :D
Blue for Maverick and orange for Fenwick (DND oc)
1) Lewis McCartney from H2O and not yet
2) She’s a WIP oc, Sage, but they met as neighbours and a witch that lived by the river Fenwick would visit
3) I do not remember many songs
4) I will find some eventually
5) No not yet and no
6) If she was, she’d probs be a DJ with no backup job haha
7) He would SO be a half-orc but a bard!!
8) He likes too cook, he’s plays video games but mostly, he annotates magazines and she pulls things apart for fun, mostly bikes lol
9) He’s rather healthy! He works about and eats healthy but a not quite recovering caffeine addict haha and she mostly eats fish and that’s all she needs really and unintentionally stays active but she’s not careful so she gets sick and injured quite often
10) Mostly but sometimes he gets too focused on a person and how they are rather then himself and when he gets stressed he forgets and she mostly content but struggles a lot with her memory which negatively affects her, she hasn’t gone into combat as of yet and barely uses her powers (emotion and memory harvesting and manipulation)
11) He was inspired by Curly from the game “Mouthwashing”, Shayne Topp from Smosh and a little from Top Gun: Maverick haha and she was inspired by a random Pinterest photo
12) Not yet for both
13) Nope! I would say his dad but he’s moved on from him and she does not! Yet
14) He watched Arcane and despises Finn with a passion and she does not really hate anyone
15) Yeah he will make it but I don’t know about her��
16) He loves his mum but has a light resentment towards his dad, use to hate him but decided he wasn’t worth his time and she doesn’t not remember her parents
17) He doesn’t but I’d imagine if he did, he would be pretty good and love them but would find it hard deciding what the appropriate approach to situations would be and she won’t have any kids, don’t think she’s ever considered it
18) He goes by him/him and just Maverick or any nicknames you come up with and she’s never considered that prefers to sue it/it’s but finds the concept of gender weird
19) He’s bi with a preference for women and she’s a women lover but hasn’t met anyone so she doesn’t know that yet lol
20) He’d probably grab any objects around to throw at them but he’s actually pretty strong so himself as a last resort lol and she’d use her powers but if went physical, use her talons to dig in and bat her wings lolol
21) Eventually I’m sure
22) Depends on the context and if other people are involved, he’s more lover tho and she’s fight for sure, but some weird gray area between lover and fighter
23) Yep, he doesn’t have a car yet but he might walk or try to convince his mum to give me a ride haha and no she is not oof
24) Had a guitar phase and could play a little tune or learn song with ease but it’s not a hobby anymore and no
25) Oh 100%! In the car, doing the dishes, anywhere and if he’s alone and isn’t singing something to himself, he’s probably sad lmaoo and she pretends she can resist and very good at it too
26) Both Singapore orchids but his are blue and hers are orange, which is why I picked the text colours
27) He’s a dog for sure, golden retriever and Bernese mountain dog mix and she’d be a grebe (bird), personality wise and looks
28) He’s always been welcomed to popular sporty groups but he feels most comfortable with the more unique and different groups and she’d be in the artist group and I cannot draw sadly but I plan of learning
29) A moodboard I can do! Which I will do soon :)
30) He’d be hesitant at first but he’d be nice, and eventually you’d be good friends and she’s a hard shell to crack so you will need to work for it haha, she’d run away at first
Have a great day ^^
Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List
1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?
2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?
3) What song describes your OC?
4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?
5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?
6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?
7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?
8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?
9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?
10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?
11) What was your inspiration for your OC?
12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?
13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?
14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!
15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?
16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?
17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?
18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?
19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?
20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?
21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?
22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?
23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?
24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?
25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?
26) What flower do you associate your OC with?
27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?
28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)
29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)
30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)
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firstkhao · 1 month ago
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moots!!!! pls reblog/reply with your birthday!!!! <3
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lokissweater · 4 months ago
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birds of a feather . ۫ ꣑ৎ .
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{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
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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.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago
Text
Breaking Innocence—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
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summary— you fall for shy, sweet fratboy!nicholas who’s different from his cocky frat brothers <3
warnings— innocent!nicholas, sub!nicholas, dom!reader, loss of virginity, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, strip tease, dry humping, face sitting, praise kink, fluff.
a/n— this might be an on going au series so requests are open for frat!boy nicholas or him in general <3
You were known around campus, the popular girl everyone seemed to have their eyes on, but you didn’t have time for the typical crowd of college guys. Most of them, especially the frat boys, had a one-track mind, and you’d long since figured out they only saw you as a conquest, something to fuck and be praised for it. You’d shut down every attempt, disinterested in their shallow flirting and relentless pursuit.
Then, one afternoon on campus, you were mid-scroll on your phone, drink in hand, when someone collided with you.
“Watch where you’re going!” you snapped, not in the mood for another run-in with some cocky frat boy.
“Sorry! I’m really, I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, looking genuinely horrified, and you stopped. The guy in front of you wasn’t like the others. He was tall, muscular, and had this almost awkward sweetness, eyes widening like he was caught doing something wrong. He barely met your gaze, shuffling a bit like he wanted to melt into the ground.
You felt a small grin creep onto your face. “You always this clumsy?” you teased, watching him flush.
“N-no, I just, I didn’t see you there, sorry,” he managed, voice soft but earnest. And then, after a second, he surprised you. “Could I, maybe get your number?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves obvious.
Something in you softened. You weren’t used to guys who seemed this genuine, this…different? So you handed him your number, and he looked up at you, a glimmer of disbelief in his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll, um, text you later.”
As he walked away, your friend leaned over, eyeing you curiously. “That’s Nicholas Chavez,” she whispered. “He’s in Theatre Arts. Heard he wants to be an actor.”
You felt a flicker of intrigue. The shy frat boy wanted to act? Nicholas was already proving to be unlike anyone else around here.
As evening rolled around, you were in your dorm room, putting the final touches on your makeup and slipping into a sexy dress that you knew would turn heads. Your phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: “Hey Y/N! I was wondering…would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I know it's short notice, and totally fine if you can't!”
Then, almost immediately:
Nicholas: “It's Nicholas, by the way…Nicholas Chavez.”
You laughed at his nervousness, finding it unexpectedly charming. Quickly, you typed back, “Sure, I’d love to. I’m on the east side of campus.” He replied instantly, “Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.”
Right on time, you heard a knock. Opening the door, you caught the look in his eyes as they widened, taking in your outfit. "Wow, you look incredible," he said, clearly a little stunned.
You smiled, “Thank you.” Then you noticed the flowers he was holding. “Are those…for me?”
“Yeah,” he said, blushing slightly, “I thought you might like them.”
“I love them, thanks, I’ll go put them in some water.”
As you headed to his car, he opened the door for you, and you settled in. The ride to the restaurant was filled with light conversation, but you caught his shy glances in your direction.
At the restaurant, he was every bit the gentleman, pulling out your chair and making sure you were comfortable. As you sat, you couldn’t help but notice how his nervousness seemed to melt away as you talked about everything from your favorite movies to his passion for acting.
When the check arrived, you reached for your purse. “I can pay my share, seriously.”
He shook his head, insisting with a smile, “No way. I asked you out, so I’m paying.”
After dinner, he drove you back, and as he walked you to your door, he paused, his hands nervously fidgeting. “I really had a great time tonight, I hope we can do it again sometime?”
You surprised yourself, not quite believing the words as they came out. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Nicholas grinned, his excitement clear. “Awesome. I’ll text you later?”
You nodded, and with one last smile, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a sense of anticipation you hadn’t felt in a while.
The next day, word spread across campus about Nicholas’ fraternity hosting a big “End of Halloween” party. You were tempted to skip, knowing the frat’s reputation, but when Nicholas texted, personally inviting you, you decided to go, mostly because of him.
Dressed to kill, you arrived at the frat house with your friends. Nicholas was waiting outside, leaning against his car, and his face lit up when he saw you. His hand hovered protectively over your back as he guided you through the crowded party, never letting you out of sight. Once you were settled on a couch, he disappeared to grab drinks from the kitchen.
Just then, Connor, one of the frat’s popular members and a guy you’d briefly entertained in the past, slid up beside you, smirking. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he teased. “Thought you ghosted me for no reason.”
You raised an eyebrow, replying, “I cut you off because you’re an asshole…with a not-so-impressive dick size, I might add.” The party nearby burst into laughter, Connor’s face going red as he tried to stammer a comeback.
Before he could say anything else, Nicholas returned, stepping between you and Connor. “Is there a problem here?” Nicholas asked, his voice calm but firm.
Connor sneered. “Oh, so this is the guy you’re fucking now? Figures.” He turned to Nicholas. “Better watch out. She’s just a—”
You cut him off sharply, “I’m a ‘what,’ Connor? A whore? Funny, considering you never even got close.” The party erupted with laughter again as Connor glared, defeated, and stormed off.
Nicholas handed you your drink, clearly impressed. “Thanks for standing up for me,” you said, touching his arm.
His cheeks turned slightly pink. “Anytime,” he replied, flashing a shy smile.
After a few drinks, you felt the alcohol kicking in, and the music pulled you to the dance floor. Grabbing Nicholas by the hand, you started dancing, pressing your body against him and grinding to the beat. He was shy at first, but he reluctantly wrapped his hands around your waist, his face a mix of excitement and nervousness.
You glanced back at him, laughing. “Loosen up, Nick. We’re just dancing!”
He chuckled, stammering, “I-I know, I just, wasn’t expecting- this.”
But he was smiling, and you could tell he was enjoying every second. You took his hand and slowly guided it over your body, letting him feel the curves along your waist, your hips, and your thighs. Then, you turned to face him, your gaze locking with his as you moved closer. Feeling him rock hard against you, a smirk played on your lips as you pulled his hands up, guiding him to grab your ass firmly. You swayed together to the music, electricity buzzing in every touch.
As someone passed by with drinks, you reached out, grabbed one, and took a sip. The alcohol was strong, sending a rush through you. Without a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, transferring the drink in a slow, heated kiss. He was taken aback but quickly melted into it, swallowing as the taste mingled between you.
“Didn’t expect that,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You grinned up at him, feeling bold. “Stick around; I’m full of surprises.”
His hand moved back to your waist, drawing you even closer. “I’m counting on it.” He was getting bold too.
He leaned down, his forehead against yours as you both dirty danced to the music blaring over the speakers. It felt like you were the only ones in your own little bubble.
“Do you wanna go back to my dorm?”
His eyes widened, and he stuttered, “Y-yes! I mean, sure!” You laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him through the party, the noise fading behind you as you made your way to your side of the campus.
“Why are we going there?” he asked, curiosity etched on his face.
You glanced back at him with a mischievous grin. “Shh, you’ll see.”
Once you reached your dorm, you opened the door and gestured for him to sit on the bed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
As you stepped into the bathroom, you quickly took off your clothes, leaving yourself in just your lingerie. A flutter of nerves washed over you as you contemplated whether you should really go through with this, he was still one of the frat boys after all. With a deep breath, you stepped back out into the room, and his jaw dropped at the sight of you.
“Close your mouth, Nicholas,” you teased, your heart racing.
“Wow, you’re- so- wow. Um, you’re beautiful,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing.
You bit your lip, feeling confident, and stood between his legs. Taking his hands, you guided them across your body, letting him feel the curves beneath your delicate lingerie.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.
You nodded, leaning in to kiss his neck, then tugging at his shirt. “Let’s see what’s under here,” you murmured, pulling it off to reveal his toned chest. You didn’t expect this shy, awkward guy to be a Greek god beneath those clothes.
As he leaned closer, you began making out, feeling the heat build between you. His hands explored your body and the air thickened with anticipation.
You sank to your knees, your hands gliding from his firm chest down his abs. Your lips followed, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made him shiver under your touch. As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you looked up at him, noticing the nervous anticipation in his eyes.
When you gently tugged them down, his face flushed a deep red. He stammered, “Y-you really don’t have to.”
But as you took him in, you felt a thrill. “Shy guys really do surprise you,” you murmured, grinning up at him, which only seemed to make him blush more. He was huge. The biggest you’d ever had, if you were being honest.
As you began, his hands gripped the edge of the bed, and he gasped, “You— you're amazing.” His voice grew breathy, and he looked down, struggling to keep himself together.
When he was close, he tried to pull back. “W-wait, I’m about to—”
You simply held him in place, and his protests dissolved into a moan as you continued sucking and slurping his cum as he released into your mouth. Afterward, he looked down at you in awe. “You really didn’t have to, but wow, you’re amazing.”
You smiled and leaned up, and he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your lips, surprising both of you with the intensity. He cupped your cheeks, tongue sucking on yours as he hummed, tasting himself in your mouth.
You nudged him back gently, stepping away with a sly smile. Slowly, you began to slip out of your lingerie, giving him a strip tease as he watched, entranced, his breath hitching. His gaze roamed over you, and you could see the effect you had on him, his entire body tensing and his dick hard and leaking as you played with yourself, then finally turned and bent over, offering him a full view.
Pushing him down onto the bed, you grinned at the way he looked up at you. “I want you to- sit on my face,” he said, his voice barely a whisper but full of confidence.
“Are you sure?” you teased, hovering over him.
“Sit,” he insisted, guiding you down until you were close enough, and then he pulled you fully down, his mouth on you with a hunger you hadn’t expected. His tongue explored with an intensity that left you gasping, his hands gripping your hips as he delved deeper. “Just like that, I wanna taste every part of you,” he murmured between breaths, and the sound of his voice sent you over the edge. You couldn’t hold back, your body responding fully, and you leaned into him, gripping his hair as he drew everything out of you and you squirted.
Catching your breath, you looked down at him, amazed. “You- you’re the first to make me squirt like that,” you said softly.
He smiled, a hint of pride flashing across his face. But then he hesitated. “I, uh- I should probably tell you… I’m a virgin.”
You smiled, taking his hand in yours. “Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said gently. “It’s actually… kind of sweet.” You ran your fingers over his jaw. “Do you want me to help you feel good?”
He looked away, then back up at you, and nodded.
“Use your words, Nicholas,” you teased.
“I want you to take my virginity,” he said, his gaze unwavering.
As you straddled him, you both took in a sharp breath. The connection between you was powerful, both of you feeling it as you moved closer, slowly sinking down until his cock filled you completely. The feeling left you both gripping each other, your breaths mingling as you adjusted, the feeling almost overwhelming but perfect.
“Oh my fucking god, you’re so big, stretching me so good,” you gasped.
Nicholas' hands moved to your hips, guiding you as he leaned in, his mouth tracing a warm path to your collarbone before lowering to your hard brown nipples. His lips wrapped around them, sending shivers through your whole body as he took his time, savoring each kiss, each movement. You began to ride him slowly, letting every inch of his dick fill you as you took in the moment, enjoying how he reacted to each shift of your hips, his moans becoming more and more uninhibited.
As the rhythm built, you started moving faster, grinding against him, feeling the heat between you both reaching its peak. “I’m- I’m so close,” you whispered breathlessly.
“Me too,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I want you to,” you reassured him, pulling him close. Moments later, he cried out, your name on his lips, his hands gripping you tightly as you both reached that final, perfect high together.
Breathing heavily, you both lay back for a moment, catching your breath. But as you glanced over, you noticed he was still just as eager, his cock hard. You lay down, opening your arms to him with a soft smile, and he shifted to take his place above you. His movements were careful but passionate, each thrust deep and unhurried, as he leaned in close, your legs wrapping around him as you whispered, “Tell me how good it feels sweetie.”
“So good,” he answered between breaths. “You feel incredible.”
His voice sent a rush of warmth through you, and you pulled him closer, murmuring, “Tell me how much you love my pussy.”
“I love it,” he admitted, his eyes locked on yours, his voice sincere, “I love your pussy.”
As you both reached that final peak, everything else faded away, leaving only the closeness between you. When it was over, he collapsed beside you, a soft smile on his face. “That was amazing,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.
You reached over, your fingers tracing gentle running through his hair. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you murmured, and when he looked up, his eyes shy, he quietly asked, “Can you hold me?”
“Of course,” you replied, pulling him close as his head rested on your chest, your fingers running softly through his hair. There, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drifted into a comfortable silence, feeling the connection between you deepen with every moment and he soon fell asleep on your chest. His soft, cute snores filling the room.
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moonstruckme · 11 days ago
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omg as a diabetic i've not really seen many fics about this but your fic was lovely!!! what about a diabetic read with the marauders )any ship or person) where they had a slightly nasty argument and she's not feeling well (sugar levels or whatever u decide) and she doesn't tell them because of the fight and comfort with sprinkles of angst ensue? it was just a thought, if you're up for it! <3
Thank you lovely <3
cw: reader has diabetes, dizziness/lightheadedness, brief mention of blood, for anyone unfamiliar with diabetes the “meter” here refers to a blood glucose meter which reports blood sugar levels
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words
You seem to have inadvertently laid claim to the sitting room. Sirius stalked off into the kitchen and hasn’t come back, and Remus is down the hall avoiding the pair of you, as he’s taken to doing whenever you and Sirius argue. He might come talk sense into you if it were really serious, but Remus has had his own share of domestic squabbles with both of you; he leaves you to sort this one out by yourselves. 
A few minutes ago, through the smog of your anger, you recognized a feeling of wrongness. The timing is uncanny. Sirius had only just gone into the kitchen when you realized you needed to be there yourself. Now, even if you could brave the iciness of your boyfriend’s rancor, you don’t think you could stand to get what you need in front of him. 
The second you reach for one of your glucose-boosting shakes, Sirius will know your blood sugar is low, and then you’ll be a victim to him. 
Or not a victim, necessarily, but someone in need of care. Someone he has to look after, and who he can’t be angry at, and that’s not fair to him. Even if you do want to stop fighting, you don’t want to win that way. 
But a few more minutes of doing nothing and you aren’t sure you’ll be able to stand properly from this couch. 
Remus peeks into the living room. Finding only you, he comes over.
“Okay?” he asks quietly, sitting beside you. He means your argument; Remus is perceptive, but he’s not that good. 
“Yeah.” You loose a breath. “He’s so stubborn.” 
“So are you,” he says, not without fondness. 
“But I’m right.” 
Remus hums and kisses the side of your head. You try not to melt too obviously; your head is starting to ache from the drop in blood sugar, and you really are beginning to feel somewhat pitiful. “If I tell you something,” he murmurs, “you have to keep it a secret.” 
You look at him, intrigued. “What?” 
Remus’ lips give a slight tug. “I agree with you.” 
You grin, smug and extremely vindicated. Remus holds up a hand. 
“But,” he goes on, “I think you should apologize to him.” 
Just like that, your smile dissipates. Your headache feels like it’s getting worse. “Why?” 
The look Remus gives you is kind, but tinged with bemusement. “You were harsh with him, sweetheart. I understand being upset, but you didn’t need to lay into him the way you did. It was only a small thing.” He lowers his voice. “I think he might not have dug his heels in quite so deeply if you’d only asked him nicely.” 
You frown, guilt and irritation warring within you. “He’s always stubborn. It doesn’t matter what I say.” 
“It matters,” says Remus. “Listen, I can’t know for sure, but I think if you apologized to him, he’d apologize back. And maybe then you could find an agreement about the whole thing.” 
You sigh, letting your weight sag into Remus’ side. Your hands are starting to tremble in your lap. “I’d rather just tell him you think I’m right,” you say. 
You hear the smile in Remus’ voice as he kisses your head again. “I know.” 
You manage to stand without teetering. Remus waits in the sitting room while you go to the kitchen, where you find your boyfriend eating frosting broodily out of a tin. He spares you hardly a glance as you come in, sucking his spoon clean. 
“I didn’t mean to be harsh,” you say softly. 
Sirius scoffs. “Didn’t stop you.” 
“I didn’t realize I was being so harsh,” you amend. Even as you do, it’s hard to keep the bite from your tone. You know that you’re particularly irritable when your blood sugar is low; however, knowing that doesn’t actually make you feel any less irritated. “I’m sorry.” 
Sirius shakes his head. He’s still looking at the cabinets rather than at you. “Just because I don’t do things the way you want me to doesn’t make me completely incompetent.”
This apology might take longer than you bargained for. You set a hand on the counter as a wave of dizziness passes over you. Maybe you can drink your shake while apologizing? But Sirius is standing between you and the fridge. 
“I wasn’t trying to call you incompetent,” you say through the fog that’s descending over your consciousness. 
“That’s sure what it sounded like,” Sirius bites out. 
“Well, I don’t think you are. I just…I think I’m in a mood, and I’m saying things I don’t mean. I’m sorry.” 
It’s a rare enough admittance from you that Sirius looks over. One of his dark brows is half quirked, intrigue palpable. 
“Really?” he asks. 
“Really.” It feels like a weight off your shoulders; you think you physically slump. “I still think I’m right, but I shouldn’t have been so mean. Not,” you add, unable to help yourself, “that you were very nice to me either. But I started it.” 
A corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “You did start it,” he agrees, softening. “I’m sorry, too. For not being very nice.” 
“It’s okay.” You try to smile back at him, eyeing the fridge. “Um, could I…I need the fridge.” 
He laughs, stepping aside. “Awe, that’s my darling girl. She’s feigned an apology because she wanted lunch.” 
“Ha ha,” you reply drolly. 
As you step around him, Sirius palms the back of your neck, pulling you in for a brief kiss. You wish you could appreciate it better. You’re starting to feel rather unsteady, your lips tingling without the warmth. 
“Hey,” he says. 
You open the fridge, pushing condiments aside and reaching towards the back. Sirius sets a hand to your lower back. 
“Baby. You’re sweating.” 
“I’m okay,” you tell him, closing the fridge. You see him register the bottle in your hand, and you try to affect an expression of insouciance as you screw off the cap. “Just a little low.” 
“You’re low? For how long?” Sirius is gripping you with both hands now, one on your waist and the other at your elbow. He seems afraid you’ll keel over; you wish it were a less founded fear. “What’s your blood sugar at?” 
“Not sure,” you admit quietly. Your meter is in here, too, just behind where Sirius is standing. You sip your shake, nearly draining the small bottle. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be good soon.” 
“Sweetheart.” Sirius’ brows bend, worry and bafflement warring in his expression. “Why didn’t you say?” 
“Because it’s fine.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t want us to stop fighting just because of that. You were angry with me for valid reasons.” 
“I’m still angry with you,” he says, making you look at him in surprise, “but now for completely different reasons. What were you thinking?”
His raised voice attracts Remus, come now to keep the peace. 
“It wasn’t a big problem,” you try to reassure Sirius. “I had it handled.” 
“Staying away from what you need just because I’m upset is not handling it, baby.” 
“What’s going on?” Remus asks, looking between the two of you bemusedly. It’s not like Sirius to use sweet names when he’s angry, or like you to be so defensive after you’ve agreed to patch things up. “Have you managed to start another row already?” 
“Her blood sugar is low, and she wasn’t going to do anything about it because she thought I was angry with her,” Sirius tells him.
“You were angry with me,” you say. 
Remus looks at you, his eyes skimming you over quickly. “How low?” he asks. 
Sirius crosses his arms. “She doesn’t know.” 
You let out a breath, starting to feel teary. Another argument, on top of your headache and dizziness and the general weariness of your physical form at the moment, is too much. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I knew I was low, I was already handling it.” 
“Of course it matters, lovely,” Remus replies, disappointment permeating the usual kindness in his tone. 
He finds your meter behind Sirius, opening your small kit and putting in a new test strip before taking out the lancet. You let him prick your finger, throwing your empty shake bottle in the trash. Your meter beeps when it gets the reading. 
“Oh,” Remus sighs. “Alright. That’ll come up now you’ve had your drink.” 
“I know it will,” you mutter. 
“Hey.” Sirius all but traps you in a hug, his arms pushing underneath yours and squeezing you harshly. “Don’t do that. Okay? Please.” 
You feel yourself soften. One of your hands comes up to stroke the ends of his hair where it falls between his shoulder blades. “You don’t need to worry,” you say. 
“Oh, piss off. Try and stop me.” 
“I saw you shaking,” Remus admits, his voice soft. You look at him, surprised, but he meets your guilty expression with a half smile. “I only thought it was because you were upset. It’s an odd thing to keep secret from us, isn’t it?” 
“I wasn’t keeping it a secret.” You tuck your chin into Sirius’ shoulder. He gives your back a couple of firm rubs before pulling away. “I just didn’t want you to feel like…like you needed to look after me.” 
“Too bad,” Sirius says, stubbornly. “We’re going to look after you anyways. Shocked you wouldn’t know that already.” 
Remus smiles, setting a hand to your back and rubbing between your shoulder blades. “He’s right,” he says. “No matter who’s upset, please don’t hide these things from us. It’s important that we know.” 
“Okay,” you mumble, chastised. “Sorry.” 
Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Two apologies in one afternoon. Christ, you really must be feeling poorly.” 
Remus chuckles. “Should we sit for a while? Give you time to come up.” 
“Sure.” That sounds amazing, actually. Even with the glucose working its way into your system, you’re still finding it difficult to stay on your feet. You start back towards the sitting room. “Thanks.” 
“Oh, my poor baby.” Sirius wraps his arms around you from behind, forcing you to take small steps to accommodate him. “You’re still shaking, sweet girl.” 
“This,” you say, “is exactly what I didn’t want.” 
Sirius laughs. He lets you go so you can sit before flopping down beside you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Maybe next time,” he suggests, “you can be honest with us from the beginning, and I’ll let you be a bit choosier about what reaction you get.”
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cameronsprincess · 22 days ago
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i understand that reqs r closed and u completely don’t have to fulfill this but i thought you’d do a BANGER job at this prompt: u and rafe r married but are getting divorced and u threw a divorce party… only to end the night going home with him… a little bit of angst with some smut?? idk make it ur own 💗
zyaaaa<3 i love you for this, and thank you for trusting ME with your request!!!
CW: 18+ only! slight angst, more fluff than i intended, divorce, smut, male receiving oral, piv sex.
note: yeah yeah reader went out w her friends but left w rafe and none of them tried to stop her. in my head none of them noticed their interaction/her leaving with him. let’s pretend they’re blowing up her phone while she’s gettin’ the best dick down of her lifeee. also, i suck at endings, its my biggest flaw so yeah sorry if the ending is bad.
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“here’s to finally being free of the most toxic marriage to the most toxic man!” you say joyfully, clinking your glass with three of your closest friends.
your friends all giggle, bringing the champagne flutes to their lips and taking small sips. you glance around your house, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders as you take in how freeing it feels to finally have your divorce finalized. you’d been married for three years, and while it was good at first, somewhere during the marriage your— now ex— husband had become cold and indifferent toward you. you couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, nor could you give a reason why, but all you knew was enough was enough. you were too young and too beautiful to spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage to a man who treated you like shit.
your friends voice rips you from your thoughts. “earth to y/n.. you okay babe?”
you squeeze your eyes shut, giving your friend a big smile before nodding your head. “yeah i’m fine,” pausing, you down the rest of your champagne, setting the glass onto your coffee table and rising from your spot on the couch. “let’s go out tonight.”
your friends all share slightly concerned looks with one another before their attention lands on you. nicole clears her throat, awkwardly shifting before she finally speaks, “i mean.. yeah sure, but are you sure you wanna put yourself out there like that right now?”
you roll your eyes, sighing. “yes i’m sure. i just spent the last year of my life going through a messy divorce process, so i’d like to go out with my girls, have some drinks, dance a little, and maybe, just maybe, find some hot guy to bring home. i’m not going out to find my next husband, jesus.”
and that’s exactly what you did, but little did you know… the man you’d go home with was your ex husband.
“another shot of patrón please? thank you!” you shout to the bartender, giving him a flirty half-drunken smile.
the bartender nods, moving to pour your drink before sliding it across the bar to you. you smile, grabbing the glass and downing it before setting it back on the bars top.
“a pretty woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” a low, raspy voice says from behind you.
you bite at your bottom lip, smiling to yourself before turning to face the mystery man. your eyes widen in shock when you see rafe, standing so close to you that you could smell the whiskey on his breath.
“rafe.. what the fuck are you doing here?”
he smiles down at you, taking a step closer, backing you into the bar. “i could ask you the same question. the divorce only finalized today, trying to forget me so soon, sweetheart?”
“i’m not your fucking sweetheart, rafe. now leave me alo-”
rafe grips at your hips, pulling your body into his. he dips his head down, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, groaning as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “i miss you. do you miss me?”
your pussy pulses from his words, the smell of him so intoxicating it had your head spinning more than it already was. you did love him, and you hated that he pushed you to file for divorce, but it’s how things were. you couldn’t mess up everything you’d fought for, not now, not ever.
you try and shove him back, but his hands tighten on your waist, not allowing you to move. “baby, stop. m’sorry, for everything. i know the divorce finalized today, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still fuck.. maybe try and just be friends, date, see where life takes us, right?”
he was trying to manipulate your drunk mind, and you couldn’t let him win. you refused to let him win. it was done. you were free of him, so why was he here and trying to reel you back in? he didn’t miss you, he missed the comfort you brought him, he missed how you’d always try and calm his mind, how you’d forgive him every time he fucked up. he didn’t miss you.
“rafe please, stop. i’m too drunk for this argument. you don’t fucking miss me, you miss the way i was for you,” you pause, your half-lidded eyes looking up and finding rafe’s beautiful blue eyes. “i can’t do this, please.”
you tear your eyes off his, knowing if you looked into them for too long, you’d be a goner. you’d go home with him, let him have his way with you, and wake up regretting it in the morning, because you and rafe could never work out. not as friends, not as a couple, not as anything.
rafe slides his left hand up your sides, reaching your face and cupping your cheek in his hand. his thumb slowly strokes the skin before he hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, forcing your head up.
“baby.. i do miss you. please, just— just let me prove to you how much i fucking miss you.”
his words tug at your heartstrings, your body melting into his touch like it always did. tears well in your eyes, your chin wobbling as you look into his eyes, eyes that used to make your heart stop and made you feel safe and at home.
sighing, you nod your head once. “okay.. okay fine. just one night, we can look at it as… goodbye sex. right?”
a smile takes over rafe’s lips, “whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. let’s go.”
he quickly grabs your hand, pulling you across the dance floor and out the doors of the club you were in. the warm, mid-summer air hits your skin, the light breeze sending goosebumps up your arms. rafe drags you across the parking lot, eagerly reaching his truck and unlocking it, opening the passenger door for you. you raise a brow at him, “someone’s really trying tonight, isn’t he? you stopped opening my door for me years ago.”
rafe chuckles. “i’m sorry for that… truly.”
you roll your eyes, giving him a small smile before lifting yourself into his truck, pulling on your seatbelt as he shuts the door for you. he rounds the front of his truck, hopping into the driver seat and starting the truck, putting it into reverse and speeding out of the clubs parking lot.
the ride back to rafe’s house is comfortably silent, and the second you two arrive, rafe is killing the engine and hopping out to help you out and into his house.
you barely make it through the front door before rafe’s lips are on yours. he grips your hips in his hands, squeezing tightly as his lips devour yours. he bites at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it softly. he rests his forehead against yours, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the small entryway of his house.
“fuck i missed you, i missed you so fucking much sweetheart.” rafe breathes out, his hands slowly running up and down your sides.
he runs his hands down to your ass, squeezing at it softly before running them down further, his fingers playing with the hem of your dress. he begins slowly pulling the dress up your body, exposing your black lace thong, sucking in a sharp breath, “fuck.”
your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze, “rafe.. please? ‘m so horny, just need to feel you tonight, okay? just make me forget why we split up.”
rafe bites his bottom lip hard, nodding his head furiously. he pulls your dress off completely, tossing it behind you. he dips his head down again, his lips attacking the length of your neck with sloppy, open mouthed kisses. your knees grow weak, slightly shaking when he sucks softly at the skin of your neck, pulling back and groaning as he admires the deep purple bruise he’d marked you with.
“so beautiful,”
you drop to your knees, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt, finally pulling it free from the loops of his khakis and tossing it to the floor before working his button and zipper. rafe is quick to shove his khakis and boxers down, letting his hard cock spring free. you moan at the sight of him, hands reaching out hesitantly to grip at his thick shaft.
a low groan spills from rafe’s lips the second your hands wrap around him, giving slow and deliberate strokes. “always looked so pretty on your knees f’me, never wanna lose this, baby.”
you dart out your tongue, licking up the precum that had leaked from his tip. you moan at the taste of him on your tongue. you missed him, and this is definitely a huge step backward, but you’d deal with the consequences later. tonight, you wanted to soak up having him be attentive and loving with you again, he hadn’t been this way in so long.
“c’mon baby, suck my cock, need to feel those pretty lips wrapped ‘round me.”
you obey, wrapping your lips around his swollen tip and sucking at it lightly, your hands still slowly stroking at his shaft. rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as his cock twitches in your hands. you slowly push more of him into your mouth, sucking him down your throat until he’s buried deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. you hold him there, breathing in deep through your nose, while your tongue works at the vein on the underside of his cock.
you pull your head back, leaving only the tip in your mouth. you tease him, sucking at his head before pulling him out completely, giving quick strokes with your hands, your lips leaving soft kisses up and down his length.
rafe wraps his hand in your hair, tugging harshly at your messy locks as he groans in frustration. “baby, please? you wanna hear me beg? i’m not beneath begging, not with you at least.”
you shift on your knees, your clit pulsing at how desperate he was for you. this is what you wanted, for rafe to be desperate for your touch and attention. not wasting another second, you push him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you begin bobbing your head up and down, taking him all the way down your throat before slowly sliding him back out. rafe’s grip on your hair loosens, but he quickly tightens it back, yanking at your hair harshly as he holds you in place. he begins thrusting his hip, fucking himself down your throat at a quick pace, taking away your air with each push of his hips.
tears roll down your face, your throat already sore from how hard he was fucking it. you gag and moan around him, feeling him twitch in your mouth, the vein on the bottom of his shaft throbbing. you work your tongue against him, helping push him toward his release. rafe’s cock swells, low curses falling from his lips. he yanks your head back by your hair, his cock slipping from your lips, “goddamn… forgot how good you take a throat fucking, baby.. but i wanna cum somewhere else tonight.”
your tear-filled, bloodshot eyes meet his and he extends his hand out for you to grab. you hesitantly place your smaller hand in his, letting him pull you up off your knees. his lips are on yours in seconds, tongue slipping into your mouth, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. rafe listen you off the ground, pulling you into his arms as your legs wrap around his waist. he walks you into the large living room, his lips never leaving yours. he finally breaks the kiss, gently dropping you onto his couch, the cool leather chilling your hot skin.
rafe drops to his knees, his fingers digging into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and tossing them onto the coffee table behind him. his eyes flit down to your dripping pussy, the bright blue of his eyes drowned out by his blown pupils. he grips your thighs in his hands, roughly spreading them further apart, “you’re soaked, sweetheart. i knew you fuckin’ missed me.”
you whimper, rolling your hips in a silent plea for him to touch you. rafe chuckles, his right hand releasing your thigh and moving to cup your pussy. he slides two fingers through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before bringing them to his lips, “mmm.. still so sweet.” he rasps.
rafe stands to his full height, lifting you off the couch and turning, sitting himself down with you in his lap. you grind yourself against his hard cock, moaning at the delicious pressure on your clit as you did. rafe lets his head fall back, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he helped you slide yourself against his throbbing cock. you lift yourself onto your feet, hovering over him as you grasp his shaft in one hand, lining him with your entrance. rafe’s eyes find yours, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he waited to finally feel your pussy wrapped around him.
you slowly sink yourself down on his cock, the two of you moaning in unison. you sit yourself all the way down, burying him to the hilt, both of your hands flying to his shoulders, your nails digging into the soft skin. rafe hisses in a breath, his cock pulsing inside you, “can i move? please baby? wanna fuck this perfect fucking pussy.”
you whimper when he bucks his hips, the swollen head of his cock hitting at your sweet spot. “yes. please, rafe. please fuck me.”
that’s all rafe needed to hear. his hands make purchase on your hips, lifting you up off his cock, leaving only the tip inside before he slams himself back in. you cry out his name, leaning forward and burying your face in his neck. rafe lifts your hips slightly, allowing himself just enough room to quickly pound himself into you. your walls clench around him, tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure he was giving you but also because you knew, you couldn’t let him go again after this.
you lift your face from his neck, resting your forehead against his, the two of you staring into each others eyes as rafe continues to fuck himself inside you. rafe pulls his right hand off your hip, his thrusts slowing as he reaches up and swipes a tear from your cheek. “don’t cry, baby.”
you sniffle, “just feels so… fuck— so good, rafe.”
rafe slowly moves his hips, his thrusts slow and sensual. you cup his face in your hands, your eyes scanning his perfect face before falling to his lips. rafe leans forward, capturing your lips with his as the two of you move your hips in sync. you moan against his lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, “rafe.. ‘m so close… please..”
“i know baby… i know,” rafe lets out his out pleasure filled moan, his voice cracking as the next words leave his mouth, “i love you… fuck i love you, this is all about you, let it out, be my good girl and cum f’me, yeah?”
you let out a choked sob, the three small words that left his mouth pulling your heart in more ways than one. your mind is reeling, does he mean it? was losing you what he needed to realize he truly loves you and needs you? do you forgive him? your pussy clenches around rafe’s dick, your lower belly tightening as rafe’s slow strokes push you toward the edge. you sink your teeth into rafe’s shoulder, muffling your cries as you come undone around him, tears uncontrollably rolling down your face.
rafe groans, his thrusts slow and sloppy. his dick twitches inside you, a choked “i love you,” escaping him as he pushes in deep one final time, holding himself inside you as he fills your pussy with his cum.
the two of you are holding onto one another, coming down from your shared highs. heavy breathing fills the room, and when you fully come down from your bliss, you’re pulling yourself off of him, scrambling to find your panties, ignoring the wetness between your thighs and his cum seeping out of you. you’re quick to throw your panties on, turning to rush and find your dress, but rafe grabs your wrist, pulling you back into him.
you can’t look at him, “hey.. baby, look at me, please.”
a tear falls down your face, but you force yourself to look into his eyes, noticing that his are filled with his own unshed tears.
“this was a mistake.” you whisper, but rafe heard you anyways.
his brows furrow, “how can you say that?”
you try and push off of him, but he tightens his arms around you.
“rafe, please. we got a divorce. you made your bed, you chose to treat me like shit and lose me. we can’t work. we don’t work.”
rafe sighs, “listen. i meant everything i said, i’m fucking sorry. i love you, i just… goddamnit, i just suck at showing my emotions. i suck at letting people in, and because of that, i pushed you away and lost the best fucking thing that ever happened to me,” you laugh, rolling your eyes but rafe’s face never falters. “i’m not fucking joking. i fucking love you, okay? okay, y/n? i fucking love you, and i need you.”
you don’t know what to think. your divorce was just finalized, you can’t possibly go back… can you? you do love him, and never wanted this in the first place. what if you take him back and things go back to shit? you’ll look like an idiot.
rafe cups your face in his hands, his blue eyes shining as he stares back at you. “i see you overthinking this, and i understand. i do. but hear me out, please?”
“o—okay..”
rafe blows out a breath. “thank you. i know how i feel. i fucked up, and i want to prove to you that i can be better… for you. please, just, stay with me tonight, let me try and get a start on proving to you how much i need you back,” he pauses, swallowing harshly before he continues, “and if after tonight, you still feel the same.. you can leave and i’ll never bother you again.”
you think over his words, knowing that you would do anything to receive the love you once did from him again. you squeeze your eyes shut, running a hand through your hair as you let out a shaky breath. “rafe, i— fuck.. okay. fine. but if i do choose to take you back, you cannot go back to how things were. i can’t go through this again, i can’t look like the idiot who went running back just because her ex husband spewed a few sweet words after sex..”
rafe smiles hopefully, “i understand, i promise, i mean everything. i will prove to you how much i fucking love you,” he leaves a soft kiss to your lips, standing from the couch with you in his arms bridal style. “now, let’s get your upstairs and cleaned up, then we’ll lay in bed and we can talk about anything, whatever you want, tonight’s all about you, and i’m here to listen and do whatever i can to fix us.”
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tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @sarahsangelicdoll @nemesyaaa @cherryobx @httpsdrewstarkey @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab
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rensukepie · 19 days ago
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*ೃ༄ “i wanna ride!” (ride!)
┈─ ੈ✩‧₊˚ o. a
contains : face riding, aiku teases you with his stubble :;(, aiku’s nose hits your clit ^—^, cunnilingus :3, very shy reader, established relationship, pet names (doll, angel).
who is he to say no to his pretty girl when she wants to ride his face?
a/n : inspired by @aikuposer ‘s comment about his nose…
mdni (minors do NOT interact!!)
nsfw under the cut
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“you’re very, very shy.” something that was said by multiple people, even aiku said it himself. you can’t really say your thoughts out loud to him, hell—you can’t say your thoughts out loud to anybody! you can’t say them without this flush coming to your face, sounds of your stutters flying out of your mouth.
“how can you not say your thoughts out loud? i’d talk and talk everyday if i had a boyfriend…” your friend said, lips going into a pout as she talks about not having a boyfriend.
“you know… you should reallyyy tell aiku about your thoughts.. especially about that one thing..” she smiles, bursting out laughing when she thinks about it.
gosh, you regret telling your friend about that now.
aiku had a bigger nose, and he’s just so, so handsome! you can’t really believe he’s your boyfriend sometimes, you wanna try something new with him in bed though, you’ve been thinking about it allll week already! the thought of his nose hitting your clit as you ride his face, his tongue licking at your cunt.
if only you weren’t so scared of talking about your feelings.
you knew that if you weren’t so scared, maybe you’d be more comfortable about talking about your desires for him, your needs for him.
“yeah, but what if he thinks it’s weird, what if i get dumped right there—“ you say worriedly before getting cut off.
“i can absolutely guarantee you he won’t find you weird…. c’mon! tell him tonight when he comes home from his soccer game or something!” your friend says in a convincing tone that always ends up working.
“okay.. i”lll try… but if it doesn’t go well, i’m blaming you.”
“and if it does go well, you better tell me everything!” your friend shouts, teasing you even more about your boyfriend before you head back home.
┈─ ੈ✩
you’re at home now, waiting for aiku to come home from his soccer game, cooking a quick meal before you head his key jingling from outside.
“hi aiku!” you say excitedly, turning off the stove before hugging him, the familiar scent of his cologne.“missed you so much…” you whine, your voice sweet like honey.
gosh—he loves when you get clingy like this! you’re so sweet to him, so good to him.
“missed you too, sweet girl…” he says, giving you a peck before heading to the shared room between the two of you.
┈─ ੈ✩
“aiku… wanna tell you something… just really quick! ‘s been on my mind all week..” you softly say, really hoping that he can’t hear the fast beating of your heart as he scrolls away watching those silly baby chick videos he always loved.
“hm? go ahead, pretty… i’ll listen to you.” he faces your face, burning red from what you’re about to say to him.
“i wanna try something new in bed…” you say, your face into his neck, a quiet tone when you speak to him.
“oh? what did you have in mind, angel?”
“i wanna ride your face… your nose would be hitting my clit… m’sorry if it’s weird aiku i—“
“oh fuck…” he groans, his cock hardening at your words. “well, who am i to deny my pretty girl for asking so nicely, right?”
┈─ ੈ✩
“a—aiku… ohh… mmf—!♡” you whimper softly, your clit hitting his nose as you grind your hips back and fourth. if you weren’t so shy, you would’ve done this before!
“hm? feels good, right? don’t gotta be so shy now, angel…” he murmurs softly, his hands wandering to both your hips and ass.
you can’t even hear what he’s even saying to you, but his voice is vibrating into your cunt with his little groans about how good you taste and it just feels so, so good to you! you bet he’s doing it just to tease you.
“y-you’re doing that on purpose—hah..! mmf—..” you moan again, but get caught off guard when you feel his stubble on your clit, the texture of it adding even more pleasure. “aiku—! f-feels s’good…mmf..—you’re teasing me..—♡”
he continues to tease you, his tongue going a bit faster at your cunt, your hip movements getting more lazy as the pleasure catches up to your body, the weird sensation on your clit.
“gonna give up on me now, doll? we’ve only just started…” he groans, the feeling of his lips smirking on your very soaked cunt.
“c—can’t take anymo— aiku! m’gonna cum! pleasepleaseplease—… mmf!…♡”
┈─ ੈ✩
“t-thank you aiku… s’good…. missed you, by the way..” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him on the bed, your fucked out state showing off. the one that aiku always saw when he made you feel good.
what a good boyfriend he is to take care of your needs.
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luveline · 9 months ago
Note
more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!
you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k
Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 
You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 
“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 
You step over it and almost slip. 
“Careful,” someone says. 
You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 
Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 
“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 
“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 
“Let me help you with this.” 
Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 
“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 
“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 
“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 
You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 
He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 
“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 
“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 
You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 
“Oh, sure. Of course.” 
“You haven’t heard it yet.” 
You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 
“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 
You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 
You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 
“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 
His voice is velveteen. 
“Is that awful?” you ask.
“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 
“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 
He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 
“You’re welcome.” 
“Can I pay you back?” 
You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 
Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 
“How would you do that?” you ask. 
“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 
A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 
“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 
He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 
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kiss-inthekitchen · 11 months ago
Text
same sky | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot
word count: 2k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter
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“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 
“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  
“Is everyone else asleep?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 
“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 
“How come you’re still up?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”
“Looking up at the stars.”
“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”
“Ha ha.”
“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”
“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 
His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”
For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.
“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 
“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.
“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.
“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”
“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”
“Less murder now.” 
“Yeah.” 
His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 
You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”
“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 
“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”
“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 
“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”
“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”
You laugh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re right.”
“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”
“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”
“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 
“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 
“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 
“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 
“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 
“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 
“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 
“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 
You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 
“Spence?” 
“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”
“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 
“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 
“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 
“Man, I’m good.” 
“Mmhm.”
“Going to bed?”
“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 
“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 
“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 
“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 
“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 
“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 
Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 
“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 
“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 
You laugh. “For the whole day?” 
“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 
“Okay, rest day all day.” 
“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 
“Maybe the floor.” 
“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 
“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 
“Say no more.” 
You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 
“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 
“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 
“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 
“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”
“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 
“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 
“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 
“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 
“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 
“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 
“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 
You let out a little gremlin laugh. 
“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 
“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 
“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 
“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 
“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 
“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 
“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 
“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 
“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 
“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 
He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 
“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 
“I’m going to hold you to that.” 
The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 
You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 
“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 
You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 
Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 
“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 
“More like three now.”
“We made time go faster.” 
“We did.” 
“Will you try to get some sleep?”
“Fine. Only because you asked.”
You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 
“And I love you.” 
Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 
Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 
You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 
“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 
1K notes · View notes
mulloey · 8 months ago
Text
perks of the job • mingi & yunho
Tumblr media
mingi likes to share
warnings: boyfriend mingi, mingi’s friend threesome, kind of dp (pussy and mouth), dom yunho and mingi but yunho is more dominant, sucking off mingi so good he starts seeing god, mild pet play (yunho makes you crawl), mild praise & degredation, slapping, mentioned punishment, canon massive dick yunho, brief mirror sex, mingi is kind of a cuck,, he’s not a sub but he very much gets off on watching you being used by his buddy, implied manwhore yunho who likes fucking his members’ girlfriends
—————
“I have an idea.”
You look up from your phone to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. You didn’t even know he was awake; you’d left him to sleep when you got up this morning, knowing he’d be tired after staying up all night recording. You can see he’s still half-asleep, eyelids drooping slightly and that dazed expression he has when he’s sleepy still written on his face.
“Morning, Mingi,” you smile. “What’s your idea?”
He clears his throat, shifting on his feet and you frown. He seems nervous about this idea — nervous to share it at least. After months together he rarely even hesitates to share anything with you, so to see him like this has your curiosity piqued. “What is it?” You repeat.
“Um…” he starts. “I think Yunho should fuck you. With me. Together.”
You baulk slightly. You hadn’t expected that to be the idea. You’d talked about the idea of multiples before, but it was casually, and you’d never named names. You definitely hadn’t named his own members and best friends. “Oh.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Mingi says quickly, clearly worried he’s upset or offended you. “It’s just a thought I had.”
You smile and shake your head, reassuring him. “No, I’m definitely… open to it. But why Yunho?”
He smiles and shrugs, coming to sit next to you on the couch. “I lived with him for years,” he says. “He’s into that kind of thing. And he’s into you.”
You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed the last part. Whenever you saw the other members you’d notice his gaze lingering on you, his eyes hovering over your lips, tits and ass; probably without him realising though, because he’s always been exceptionally polite and respectful to you. But the first part is new. “That kind of thing?” You ask.
He nods. “Yeah, he likes being the ‘third’ or whatever. It gets him off in a weird way. He did it with San’s ex all the time.”
Huh. This is new information to you, but knowing Yunho decently well, it’s not surprising. “He fucked San’s ex?”
“Yep,” Mingi says. “Well, they fucked her together. He loved it. I think he was more upset when they broke up than San was.”
You laugh a little, but your brain is already filled with images of Yunho doing… that to you. Fucking you with Mingi, taking you to new heights and using you for his own pleasure at the same time. You can’t say you’ve never thought about him like that; he’s so tall and large and attractive that you can’t help but wonder what he’d be like. Would he be rough? Sensual? Would he take control, calling the shots over you and Mingi or would he let Mingi tell him what to do, how to fuck you?
Now that it’s on the table, you know you need to find out.
“Have you talked to him about this?” You ask.
“Only hypothetically,” Mingi says quickly. “I’d never offer you up like that. I just asked if he thought it’d be fun in theory.”
“And?”
Mingi’s lip quirks. “He said he’d love to.”
—————
Once you agree it’s arranged quickly. Mingi broaches the topic when he sees Yunho at work the next day and Yunho apparently agrees before he can even finish asking the question. You meet Yunho for coffee a few times with Mingi and find that he’s extremely easy to talk to about this. You also find that, now that he knows it’s acceptable, his leering at you is even more blatant. Once you watch as his gaze stays fixed on your tits for 3 entire minutes. It’s strangely thrilling to be looked at like that. You can’t wait until he can finally get his hands on them — and neither, of course, can he.
It finally happens a few days later, in the apartment you share with Mingi. You wake up early that morning, excitement making it too hard to sleep, and take an hour or two to prepare yourself in the shower, shaving and exfoliating every inch of your body. Not that you don’t make an effort to look good for Mingi like this, but this is a special occasion and you want to make a good impression.
Yunho arrives at 7pm on the dot, and the sound of the doorbell has never been so terrifying. Mingi smiles reassuringly before he goes to answer, leaving you waiting on the couch. The sound of voices as Yunho enters the house sets your heart racing. You hear their casual greetings and laughter and stand to greet your guest as he enters the living room. When he sets his eyes on you for the first time he seems to freeze slightly — just as you planned. The tiny white dress you’re wearing shows off your curves perfectly, flattering you from every angle. He takes a moment to digest the heavenly sight in front of him before he greets you with a charming smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say shyly.
“Are you nervous?” Yunho asks.
You nod, a little embarrassed and he chuckles. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m very experienced with this. I’ll take good care of you, honey.”
Mingi smiles at him before approaching you, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulder. You instinctively hide your face in his chest and he tuts, gently pushing you off. “Be polite to our guest, baby,” he chides. You blush deeply but nod and he strokes your cheek. “Good girl.”
You smile shyly at your boyfriend. You can see he’s nervous too, a slightly unsure look on his face, but it’s far outweighed by the excitement evident in his eyes. He smiles reassuringly at you, pressing a kiss to your lips before beckoning Yunho over. Yunho greets you with a hug, just like normal, but you know there’s something much, much deeper behind it this time.
“How does this work?” You ask. “Do we just start?”
Yunho smiles. “It’s up to you,” he says. “We could get right to it, or we could hang out for a while. Watch a movie together or something.”
“Just a normal movie?”
Yunho chuckles, recognising the implication. “Yes, of course. Anything you like. But I can’t promise I won’t start feeling you up if you’re sitting next to me.”
You shrug, hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “That would be fine,” you say quietly and he grins. “But I’d rather just start now.”
Both men chuckle and Yunho pets your hair. It’s not the first time he’s done it to you, he’s always been quite physical (but respectful) whenever he sees you, but it is the first time it’s had quite this effect on you. It doesn’t feel like a gesture from an affectionate friend anymore, but rather, a gentle, teasing touch from someone who’s planning on doing a whole lot more.
Yunho notices your reaction, maybe because it wasn’t as subtle as you thought, and laughs. “You’re so sensitive to me, aren’t you?” He says. “Have you wanted this for as long as I have?”
“Oh, she has,” Mingi answers for you. “She’s had a thing for you since you met, haven’t you baby? She thinks she’s hidden it well but I always knew.”
You throw him a glare but he just smiles innocently, tilting his head teasingly. “Just telling the truth,” he giggles.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Yunho tells you. “You can’t help how you feel, can you?”
You shrug, shaking your head. “I guess not.”
Yunho smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve always known you think with your pussy. Little sluts like you always do.”
Your breath hitches and you feel his words deep in your stomach. In your discussions about tonight, Yunho had asked you about the kind of things you enjoyed in the bedroom, and without waiting for you to answer Mingi had gleefully told him how much you enjoyed being talked down to. You’d blushed deeply but while Yunho had laughingly told him to let you speak for yourself, you’d seen the dark gleam that briefly crossed his eyes as he took note of it. You guess he likes it too.
“What do you think?” Yunho asks. His voice is getting lower and more strained each time he speaks and you feel the energy and tension emanating off of him. “Are you a slut?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “I’m a slut, Yunho.”
He smiles and takes your flushed cheeks in his hands, forcing your eyes onto him. You feel the way his massive hands dwarf your face and it sends shivers down your spine. He could really do anything he wants to you right now. “Then you’ll do what I say, right?” He asks. “Since you’re such a slut.”
You nod almost deliriously, desperate to please him. Yunho smiles at the sight and you hear Mingi laugh next to you. “Such a cutie you have, Mingi,” Yunho tells your boyfriend. “I’d be so jealous if she wasn’t offering herself up like a whore for me anyway.”
Your gaze shifts to your boyfriend, gauging his reaction. He’s fiercely protective of you, sometimes a little too sensitive to the jokes even his best friends make, so you wonder if he’s bothered by Yunho talking about you like this; even if he’d told him it’d be okay, it might be different in reality, hearing his precious, darling girl degraded and objectified like this. But it’s clearly not — your boyfriend is rock hard, dick straining against his pants from hearing you spoken about in such a demeaning way. It makes you even wetter than you already are.
“Shall we take her to our room, Yunho?” Mingi asks.
Yunho nods. He’s been to your house a few times since you’d moved in so he knows the way, but he gestures for Mingi to lead. Your boyfriend motions for you to follow him but Yunho stops you, sticking an arm out in front of you to stop you in your tracks. “Wait,” he says. You stare up at him confusedly and Mingi turns to face him, unsure.
“She can crawl,” Yunho says.
Mingi nods, slight smirk on his lips as he motions for you to get down. “You heard the man,” he grins. “On your fours, baby.”
You feel your breathing falter slightly, unsure of yourself as you lower yourself to your knees. As you start to crawl you feel the burn of hardwood floor against your bare knees but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on than right now, crawling through your own apartment with the looming presence of two large men walking closely behind you. You feel almost like stalked prey, pursued by two larger, stronger, hungry predators preparing to strike.
Reaching the door of your shared bedroom, Yunho holds it open for you, allowing you to crawl through onto the — mercifully — soft carpets of your room.
The two men settle side by side on the bed, staring down at you with dark, piercing gazes.
“We’re gonna use you tonight,” Yunho says after a few seconds, breaking the tension-filled silence. “You’re gonna show us what a good fuck toy you can be, yeah?”
You nod, blushing slightly and Mingi smiles. “I think she should suck us off first,” he tells Yunho.
“Good idea,” Yunho nods. “Suck Mingi’s dick first, baby,” he says. “Show me how you please him.”
You nod your understanding, watching as Mingi pulls his length out and motions you closer. You crawl towards where he’s sat at the edge of the bed and sit back up on your haunches. Mingi smiles kindly at you, miming a kiss which you return. He lets you take his cock in his hands first, rubbing the length up and down a few times before taking it into your mouth. Just like Yunho, your boyfriend is massive, and he shows no mercy as he slams his cock against the back of your throat again and again, letting you choke helplessly on it. He places a hand on your head, tangling it in your hair so he can keep you in place more easily while the other holds your hand where it desperately grips his thigh. You pleasure him just like you’ve practised, moving between deepthroating, sucking and licking according to the commands of the men above you.
“Choke on it again,” Yunho orders. Through teary eyes you look up to see his gaze fixed on you, mouth parted in awe slightly while he slowly palms himself through his pants.
You do what he says, forcing Mingi’s cock to the back of your throat until you gag, pulling your head off of it. Mingi gives you a split second of respite before he yanks your head towards him, forcing his cock down your throat again. He repeats it over and over — choke, recover, choke — until he gets too worked up, so desperate he can’t bear to not have you choking on him for even a second, and holds your head firmly in place, not allowing you to move back and breathe even for a moment. He knows what you can take and how far he can push you, and he’s going to.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “You sound so good, baby. Feel so good too. You wanna give Yunho a turn?”
You whine, muffled by his cock as you nod desperately and they chuckle. Mingi gently pulls his cock out of his mouth, slapping it against your cheek a few times before nodding at Yunho. At Mingi’s cue Yunho grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you towards him. “I'm a little bigger than Mingi,” he warns. “But I think you can handle it. Do you, Mingi?”
“She definitely can,” your boyfriend affirms. “She’s so talented.”
Yunho laughs softly before finally pulling out his cock and fuck, he was right. It’s not just long, but one of the thickest and prettiest cocks you’ve ever seen. You feel your eyes water again at the sight and you gulp, staring up at Yunho’s smirking face. His face softens seeing your anxiety and he smiles, reaching a hand to stroke your cheek and letting you briefly nuzzle into it.
“Don’t be scared,” he says. “I’m right here. So’s Mingi.”
You nod, pulling yourself together before inching your head towards Yunho’s cock. You look up at him again, silently asking for permission which he grants with a nod before you take him into his mouth.
You start with the head, holding the shaft in your hand and licking experimentally at the tip. It tastes good, clean, so you quickly let yourself take the rest of it into your mouth. You bob up and down on it, loosening your throat up to take it deeper. His grip in your hair tightens as you go further, strangled groans released when you hit a particularly good spot. Determined to get the whole thing in your throat, you lift yourself up off your knees slightly and he takes the opportunity to reach his hand around to harshly slap your thinly covered ass. You scream around his cock, causing him to moan louder. “Fuck, Mingi, where’d you find her?” He groans. “She’s so fucking good at this.”
Mingi laughs, reaching to stroke the back of your head gently. “I got lucky, didn’t I?”
“I’ll fucking say,” Yunho gasps and you giggle slightly. He moans, yanking your hair forwards to force you further down his cock again. “Feels so fucking good when you do that baby. Make these pretty noises with my big dick in your mouth.”
You work for a few more minutes, and you can feel his orgasm coming before he abruptly pulls out. Hee stands, wobbling slightly which makes you proud, and points to the bed. “Up here,” he orders. “All fours.”
You manage to pull yourself up despite the slight dizziness from the way you’ve just been used and settle yourself where he points, lying on your front with your ass sticking up. Mingi leans to reach your head, gently stroking your hair as he whispers, “you’re doing so well, baby.” You smile softly at him, leaning to kiss him which he allows, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to your swollen lips. “Good girl,” he says, before standing up to join his friend.
From this position, you only just notice, you have a perfect view of yourself in a mirror, and of the two men looming behind you. You don’t remember buying this, and definitely don’t remember putting it here, but fuck if it isn’t a stroke of genius. You gulp, looking up to Yunho’s reflection in the mirror. His brows are furrowed as he stares your body up and down like he’s inspecting it, and he offers a brief smile while he notices you staring.
“Like the mirror, baby?” He asks. “I had Mingi buy it and move it here this morning. Wanted to surprise you.”
You make a noise of appreciation and he smiles. He bends over slightly, leaning over you until his head is right next to yours. He keeps his eyes on the mirror, making eye contact with your reflection as he speaks. “Ready to see how pretty you look when I fuck you? When we fuck you?”
You whine, feeling his words in your stomach and he grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek before straightening back up. You feel two pairs of hands on your, running up and down every inch of your body like they’re claiming ownership, before Yunho quickly flips up your flimsy dress to reveal your ass.
“No panties,” he whistles. “Good slut.”
With one hand pressing down on your back to hold you in place, the other runs over your ass carefully before winding back and delivering a hard slap. It’s hard and strong, making your ears ring briefly and you cry out softly, burning your head in the pillow. Another hand hits you, and you recognise the soothing touches that come after as Mingi — whenever your boyfriend spanks you, he likes to rub circles on the spot he’d struck to massage in the pain. You don’t know if he even knows he does it, but it’s a sweet quirk that reminds you that your loving, adoring boyfriend is still here. “Don’t hide your face, baby,” he says. “That’s why we put the mirror there. We want to see your pretty reactions at all times.”
You nod, lifting your head up and whispering an apology. The men smile, each stroking one of your ass cheeks soothingly. “Good girl,” Yunho says. “I don’t want to have to punish you when we’re having so much fun.”
Your mouth opens wordlessly and you stare at Yunho, confused, scared and turned on. “P…punish?” You ask quietly.
Yunho smiles, chuckling softly as he gently pats the red mark on your ass where he’d struck you. “I guess we never talked about that, did we? I like the girls I fuck to be obedient, and I’m willing to make sure they are myself.”
“With permission, of course,” Mingi quickly interjects before you can worry.
“Of course,” Yunho agrees. “I’ve never punished anyone who wasn’t begging me to correct their behaviour.”
“Oh,” you say. Your brain is brimming now with thoughts of Yunho punishing you. You wonder what he’d do; maybe he’d go the classic route and spank you to tears. Or maybe he’d force orgasm after orgasm out of you like he’d told you he likes to do, or not let you come at all. As much as you want to find out what he’d do, to hear him call you bad girl and tell you how you deserve to be punished, you can push those buttons another time. For now, all you can think about is that massive dick finally fucking you. “I’ll be good,” you whisper.
Yunho hums. You feel his hand move from your ass down to your naked pussy. His touches against it are feather-light, barely noticeable if they weren’t in such a sensitive place and from someone you’re so desperate for. His other hand, still on your back, presses down further as you start to squirm. “Remember what I said, baby,” he says as he presses a finger into you. “Be good and stay still.”
You nod, but as he adds a second and third finger you cry out and instinctively reach your arms back to touch him. He tuts, grabbing your arms and holding them down easily against your back with one hand. “I said stay still,” he chides. “Last warning, baby.”
You nod, whispering an apology which he accepts with a nod. The whole time Mingi’s been watching you, slowly stroking his cock as the sight of his girlfriend being used by his friend. Yunho notices and throws the other man a smile. “Why don’t you go fuck her mouth, Mingi?” He suggests. “Seems filling up one hole isn’t enough to keep her obedient.”
“Good idea,” Mingi smirks. He rounds the bed to stand in front of you, feeding his twitching cock into your mouth. He turns around, seeing your view of yourself blocked and grins. “So much for the mirror,” he laughs.
“Mm, so much for the mirror,” Yunho agrees. “Next time I’ll punish her for moving so much that we have to block it. But right now I just wanna fuck her.”
Mingi starts to thrust lazily into your mouth, gripping your hair like he did before. It feels incredible but you can barely focus on it. You’re desperate for Yunho now. Yunho pulls his fingers out, pushing your dress back a little further. “Hold her arms for me, Mingi,” he says. “I want all the leverage I can get.”
Mingi nods and reaches his hands forwards to hold your arms down against your back where they’d been before. Without a hand in your hair to force you down on him himself, he speed ups his thrusts, getting stronger and more merciless. You take it diligently, choking and spitting on it like the good girl you are.
When Yunho’s cock finally starts pushing into you, you falter slightly, involuntarily jolting forward into Mingi and forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. It doesn’t last long before Yunho grabs your hips, yanking you back into him. He looked big and felt bigger in your mouth but this is something else entirely. It feels like having your virginity taken all over again, tiny hole stretched by an impossibly big and merciless dick. When he finally gets all the way in your scream around Mingi’s cock. You start to thrash but their grip on you is iron, holding you in place and completely at their mercy.
Yunho gives you a few seconds before he starts to move, slowly at first then faster and faster until he’s fucking into you relentlessly. You feel completely powerless, used in two holes and held down by strong hands who want nothing but to use you for their pleasure.
The entire bed is shaking from Yunho’s hard pounds and Mingi’s relentless thrusts in your mouth. While he fucks you Yunho delivers endless slaps to your ass and thighs and you’re sure your skin will be red and burning by the time he’s done with you. They’re both talking to you but you can barely hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of being fucked without mercy by two of the largest cocks you’ve ever seen. You’re screaming without a break now, throat hoarse but you love it, you could live off this feeling for the rest of your life.
Mingi comes first; he’s always extra sensitive to your mouth. He’s not fast by any means but something about the way you suck him, the way you let him abuse your throat without a break, makes it hard for him to control himself. His load is massive, even bigger than usual, but you swallow every drop just like you’re ordered to. He keeps his cock, now soft, in your mouth, letting you suck at it for comfort while Yunho practically splits you open. With the way you’re screaming his cock also serves as a gag, keeping you marginally quieter so as to avoid any complaints from neighbours. The thought of it, having a soft cock in your mouth to gag your screams while another man fucks you, is so hot it brings you closer to your own climax.
Yunho lasts a little longer but you feel his orgasm coming, building up as his thrusts get harder and faster and his moans get louder until he’s yelling. With a final shout he releases inside you, thrusting a few times to empty himself completely. While he does so he reaches to rub your clit, wet fingers making it even more sensitive. When your orgasm finally hits, stronger and more overwhelming than ever before, he talks you through it but you’re so far out of it that you can’t quite decipher what he’s saying.
When he finally pulls out, releasing his iron grip on your hips, you collapse instantly, utterly exhausted. Mingi quickly takes you into his arms, holding your head against his chest and stroking your sweat-soaked hair. Yunho sits beside you, rubbing your legs and pressing soft kisses all over your body.
“You did so well,” Yunho says. “That was the most fun I’ve had doing this.”
You sniffle slightly and stare up at him. The dark, feral gleam in his eye is gone and his face is back to the kind, considerate Yunho you’ve known for a while. “Really?” You ask.
He chuckles, nodding slightly. “Really,” he confirms. “If you both want it, I’d love to do this again. Make it a regular thing, even. You’re too good to just leave it at this.”
You giggle, blushing slightly and your boyfriend laughs, staring down at you fondly. You feel the vibrations of the laughter in his chest and it comforts you. You sigh happily, nuzzling into him as he caresses you, gently soothing you down from your high.
“Should I go get some snacks for her?” Yunho asks.
Mingi hums, nodding. “There’s some fruit on the table you can cut up for her. She’ll need some water too.”
Yunho nods. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He presses a kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out, softly closing the door behind him. Mingi lifts your chin to press a soft, loving kiss to your lips. “My beautiful baby,” he smiles.
You smile back, your heart warm. “My Mingi.”
By the time Yunho returns you’ve fallen asleep in Mingi’s arms, lulled to sleep by his soft praises as he rocked you. Telling Mingi to make sure you eat it once you’re up, Yunho places the fruit on the nightstand and kisses your hand one last time before leaving.
When you check your phone a few hours later, once you’re fully down from your high, you see a new message lighting up your screen.
yunho: Good girl.
—————
hope you liked this! this is the longest smut ive written so far so please let me know your thoughts on it as i’ve put quite a bit of time into making it hot for u. so tell me what you think!! i get very motivated to write more when i get feedback or comments:) i’m getting to other requests now and the request box is still OPEN!! love🖤🖤
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buckyandgeraltsupremacy · 1 year ago
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remus x shy!reader
author: sj
warnings: fluff; reader is in hufflepuff; not edited lol
let me know if you want a part 2 cause i love writing for remus rn
masterlist
part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
---
you shared a lot of classes with the marauders. you weren’t even sure they knew your name. but even though you thought they didn’t know you, there was one marauder who always noticed you. remus could spot you in a crowd of one hundred. his eyes always searching for a yellow tie and your h/c hair. he thought you were so smart and always watched you take notes in every class admiring how focused you were on your studies. to be honest, that’s one of the reasons he always went to the library to study, he knew you’d be in there as well.
james had noticed this little thing remus had for you as early at 3rd year. he watched remus silently watch the hufflepuff girl with h/c hair. he didn’t try to intervene until they were older, still watching him pine over the same girl that had remus’ attention. he didn’t really know what to do so he told sirius and of course he knew exactly what to do.
you were sitting in potions after class had ended, classmates filtering out and gathering your things when someone came up to you and started talking to you. low and behold it was sirius.
“hey! i’m sirius” he said, shoving his hand towards you. you nodded, waking yourself out of shock that a marauder was introducing himself to you like they weren’t the talk of the school.
“y/n.” you replied, shaking his hand.
“great. my friend remus, you know remus right? tall, lanky, always holding a book, he’s sick and is always draining on and on about how smart you are so i thought i’d ask you for notes for him. id give him mine but i didn’t take any.” you cheeks turned red at the idea of them talking about you, much less remus thinking that you were smart.
“um. yeah. i can do that, let me copy them onto another piece of parchment and then you can take them to him.”
“perfect! come by the gryffindor common room anytime tonight and we’ll be there!”
when you finished up copying the notes that night, you stopped by the gryffindor common room to drop off the notes. you didn't have the password so knocking on the portrait would have to do. you stepped back and the door swung open to reveal sirius giving you and oddly big grin.
"come on in, love! so lovely of you to drop these notes off for poor remus." he ushered you inside and you stepped through looking around the room. you quickly found the rest of the marauders sitting by the fireplace, james, peter, and a tired looking remus. his eyes widened when you walked through the door, instantly shooting to james and peter and back to you.
"had a surprise for you remus. i know how much you love your notes, so i thought i'd ask for some from the master herself." sirius said, pushing you towards the group. your cheeks burned as you dug through your bag on you shoulder to find your copy of notes for him. you finally found them and took a few steps forward to remus who was sitting up straighter as you got closer.
"here you go. i just copied them from the notes that i took today. i hope they're good enough. i'm not sure what your normal style is that you're used to so i this helps." you said in a rush, looking down at your notes. you extended them towards the boy sitting by the fire. he reached for them.
"thank you so much y/n! you really didn't have to do this. did sirius make you any threats or force you do this?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly. you lightly laughed as a shocked sirius gasped and muttered some words you couldn't understand.
"no, no. i promise i did this of my own free will." you said, glancing up at his eyes. his smile reached his eyes once your eyes met and you instantly felt warm inside.
and so thats how your relationship started to form with the marauders. they soon started coming up to talk with you during classes and inviting you to sit with them at meals when they noticed you sitting by yourself.
your favorite though, was when you'd be in the library and remus would ask to sit at your table. he would work with you silently and you'd trade questions about homework back and forth, eventually even recommending books to each other.
you even got so close to them that the boys started including you in the teasing. one specific day, the boys found you and remus reading in the common room together. you were sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table and he was sitting behind you on the couch. the boys came in loud and instantly disrupted the calmness. sirius came bouding over to you and sat across the coffee table on the floor.
"i thought of one for you." he said, slapping his hands on the table. you jumped at the abrupt sound and leaned back on to remus' legs. the boys had been trying to figure out a good nickname for you so you could join their fun nicknames, but you weren't an anigmus like they were so there were lots of options but not of them really were fitting you quite right.
"what is it?" you asked, relaxing against remus' legs.
"flea. its perfect. you're small, quiet and annoying." you gasped and immediately sat up in protest.
"no! thats horrible i don't want to be called a flea, you git!" you exclaimed.
"but it just fits so well, flea. i can't deny how perfect it is for you." you started to protest, but a big hand stopped you. the hand, from remus, wrapped around your shoulder and guided you back to his legs, scooching you to between his legs and under him. his hands grabbed your shoulders and started to work there, massaging your tight shoulders.
"we're not calling her flea." remus insisted. you shivered and you hoped he thought it was from his hands and not his commanding voice. james then spoke up.
"what about hoppers?" you tilted your head and looked up at remus to hear his response, not protesting that one.
"she sure is as cute as a bunny and the size of one too. i vote yes." he said, looking down into your face. james nodded his head and sirius huffed.
"i still like flea better but hoppers will do when you don't annoy me, flea." sirius grumbled. you rolled your eyes and relaxed into remus' touch more, your eyes closing. unbeknownst to you, his small smile grew as he continued to massage your shoulders.
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kamiversee · 7 months ago
Text
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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3 | that it has to
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, sexual tension, teasing, fluff, & suggestiveness.
❧ Word Count | 5.3k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——“You almost fucked him?” Choso’s voice practically echoes into the air of your shared apartment, a few hours after having a brief conversation on campus and minutes after you started telling him about what happened with Gojo.
Of course, you immediately sigh, “No, I didn’t almost fuck him. We just made out.”
Your best friend was sitting on the living room couch, slouched back, head resting against the couch, manspreading, and eyes plainly up on the ceiling. All while you sat on a nearby single couch, explaining everything to him.
“But, you wanted to fuck him, right?” Choso asks, feeling slightly confused about how things went down in that storage room— especially after you’d, not so long ago, told him you wouldn’t mind doing just that.
You sigh, “Not at the moment no-,”
He’s all too quick to laugh at that and it stops you from speaking for a second. To which both of you get a little quiet. Then, Choso lifts his head from the couch and sends you a look.
“What?” Your brows pinch together, “Why’s that funny?”
Choso’s got this smug look on his face as he shrugs, “I mean, I know how you are so like… You’re tellin’ me you made out with him and you didn’t wanna fuck him right then and there?”
You scoff, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
His eyes drift down along your seated frame before carefully rising back up, this knowing smirk plaster onto his face, “You? The same girl who gets worked up after one kiss?”
“I-,” Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second but then you’re quick to clear it, “That was one time and we were like, in high school. Of course I’d be flustered.”
“It was twice, princess,” Choso reminds you, “Though, you don’t like bringin’ up the second time because you still think I’m an assh-“
“You are,” You’re all too quick to cut him off, sending him a very pointed glare.
Choso rolls his eyes at you and huffs out a heavy sigh, “I’m not. That was freshman year.”
An eyebrow of yours lifts, “I know you’re not still trying to explain yourself…”
“I’ve apologized for my actions back then already so, no, I’m not trying to explain myself,” He says before moving to shrug and rest his head back again. “But you can’t really discount that kiss, we almost fu-“
“Yeah, yeah,” You cut off yet again, face heating up at the slightest reminder of a very steamy moment you’d shared with your best friend in the past. “I know. I remember, Choso.”
“Right so, considering that…” He has to bite back a smile as he recalls the moment himself, “It’s a bit hard for me to believe you made out with this guy and didn’t find yourself turned on.”
“I-“
“It may have been a while but I still remember your body, princess,” Choso admits, taking a purposeful pause just to hear the way you choke on your words. Thinking about the moment from long ago even more, he does end up smiling to himself, “I know how sensitive you are-“
“God, okay,” You breathe out, eyes widened and everywhere except for in your best friend’s direction, “We get it Choso, I’m sensitive sometimes. But that’s beside the point— I didn’t fuck Satoru.”
He gets quiet again, allowing your words to simmer into the air a bit before he decides to respond. Still with that little grin on his face, he sighs, “…Yet?”
To his surprise, you shrug, “Yeah, yet.”
“I-,” Choso’s head lifts off of the couch again and his eyes are quick to land on you, “Wait seriously?”
Your brows furrow and he notices you’re looking away from him, “Did you miss the part where I said he invited me out to a gala tonight?”
“No,” He tilts his head, “But what does that have to do with you fucking him-, ohhhhhh! You freaky bastards are gonna sneak off to have sex, aren’tcha?” There’s a bit of teasing in his voice as he makes his predictions.
“Well, I don’t know…”
Choso raises a brow and grows more curious, leaning forward a bit, “You want to?”
You finally look at him, “Huh?”
“Do you want to have sex with Gojo tonight, yes or no?”
“I wouldn’t mind-“
Choso tips his head to the side and there’s that stupid smirk on his face as his voice grows oddly soft, “Yes or no, princess c’mon.”
You shrug, “Yeah, I gu-“
“Do not finish that statement with an I guess,” He chuckles, “You know damn well you want him to blow your back o-“
With your eyes going all wide, you cut him off as quickly as you can, “Fuck off, Choso.”
He snorts, “M’just teasin’, chill,” He starts laughing at your reaction and you just send him a playful little glare before standing up. To which his laughter dies down and his eyes lift along your body as you stand, “Where’re you goin’?” Choso asks curiously.
You move your arms up a bit to stretch, “M’gonna go see if I have anything to wear. If not, Satoru said he’d take me shopping for something.”
Choso’s eyes widened, “Really? That’s nice of him.”
“I know right?” A smile begins to dawn on you, “I think it’s his way of making up for inviting me last minute.”
“Mh,” Choso hums, watching as you begin to exit the living room, “…You’re gonna tell me everything when you get back, right?”
“Of course I will, I tell you everything,” You reply cheerfully.
“Alright then uh,” He stands up and rolls his shoulders back a bit to stretch, “Be safe tonight.”
You flash him a genuine smile before disappearing around a nearby corner toward your bedroom, “I will, thanks.”
And at that, Choso finds his eyes lingering in the area you’d last stood in for some reason. It’s like there was more he wanted to say to you but he wasn’t sure what. So, he ends up shrugging the feeling off before going to cater to himself.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Luckily for you, there was a wonderful dress you had sitting in your closet for such a fancy occasion such as a gala. It wasn’t the most expensive or anything but, it was decent enough to wear out and it followed along with the dress code Gojo had described to you through text.
It was a rather long dress with a slit that trailed teasingly up your thigh. Decorated in a pretty dark blue fabric, it hugged your body in all the right areas and gave you a rather flattering silhouette. Do you remember when or why you purchased this dress? No, but that’s the least of your worries right now as you admire yourself in it.
And it becomes even less of a worry as the sound of a notification pinging your phone steals your attention from the mirror. Since catching up with Choso, you’d spent your time getting ready and quite a few hours had drifted by. As such, the notification on your phone was from none other than the man of the hour— Gojo Satoru.
You smiled as soon as you read his name on your screen, quickly reaching for the device and reading his text that informed you he was downstairs waiting for you. After sending a hasty response back to him, you were quick to grab the last of the items you wanted to bring with you, stuffing them into a small purse you planned to carry with you for the night.
When you left your room, Choso was spotted in the kitchen with his tongue lapping away at an ice cream cone. Unknowingly, your eyes were glued to the sight for seconds longer than you realized. He drags his tongue languidly along the sweet dessert and you only blink out of your little daze when it somehow manages to miss his mouth, a drop landing on his chin.
At that moment, Choso seems to notice you’ve exited your room and he raises a brow at your eyes all over the lower half of his face.
“What?” He huffs out, brows pushing together in quick annoyance.
You bat your lashes and swallow before meeting his gaze, “Nothing,” You nearly chirp as the word leaves your lips, almost as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. Then, you shake your head and start to walk toward him, to which his eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing the second your figure becomes fully visible to him, “Anyway, what do you think?”
Choso takes his time to study you, his eyes greedily drinking in every inch of you as his gaze trails down, focuses on your legs for a second too long, and then slips back up to eventually land back on your face, “You look alright.” He hums.
Your face goes straight, “That’s it?? Just alright?”
The corner of his lips twitched, “What else am I supposed to say?”
You roll your eyes, “‘You look good’ would’ve been decent.”
“I would’ve said that if you actually looked good,” Choso replies nonchalantly, quick to flash a smile at the way a vein of annoyance pops out along your face.
“Y’know what, I don’t know why I asked you in the first place,” You practically groan as you start turning away.
The second your back profile is revealed to him, he’s shamelessly drinking you in yet again before releasing a sigh, “I was just jokin’, c’mon.”
You glance back at him over your shoulder and raise a brow.
Choso looks you dead in the eye and tilts his head to the left a little, “You look sexy. There? Happy now?”
You blink, turn around to face him again, and then take a few steps toward him, “Were you being genuine just now or are you fuckin’ with me again?” Your arms cross as you question him.
“I was bein’ serious,” He tells you, feeling a bit confused why you’re approaching him so suddenly, “That dress makes your ass look good.”
Coming to a stop in front of him, you scoff, “You were lookin’ at my ass?”
“M’always lookin’ at your ass,” Choso smirks down at you.
You return a slight smile, “Perv.”
He chuckles, “I’m not a-,“ Whatever refute he was going to say goes out the window as you lift your hand to his face. Choso seems to forget how to talk for a second while your thumb swipes over his jaw, a loud gulp coming from him before he clears his throat, “…P-Pervert.” He murmurs out.
Your thumb draws away from his face and you show him the bit of vanilla ice cream he’d gotten on himself. Choso sighed at the sight, wondering why the hell he got so nervous moments ago. Then, as if to redeem himself, he takes his free hand to your wrist and leans down.
“Sure you’re not,” Similar to him, your voice seems to die in your throat at his following action. Yes, Choso is your best friend but… he’s one of those best friends that could easily be mistaken for your boyfriend based on the way he acts and things he does.
Like now for example, as he pulls your hand back up near his face, looks down at your thumb, and licks the ice cream you’d just wiped off of his face.
You’re nearly frozen for a moment as your eyes latch onto his lips, tongue, and just every small detail on his face as he remains all too close to you for a few seconds. Slowly, his gaze flicks to yours and you gulp.
Choso all-too-casually smiles at you as he lowers his voice, “Didn’t wanna waste anything,” He tells you.
You wonder if that’s supposed to be a valid reason behind him licking your thumb just now but instead of questioning him, you just nod. “Right…” You murmur back.
Carefully, he lets go of your hand and leans away from you, returning his attention to the rest of the ice cream in his other hand. After which, he starts walking away from you, “Alright, cya,” He dismisses.
You snap out of your daze and clear your throat, “Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll be back in a few hours I think.”
“Mhm, I’ll be up if you need me when you’re back.” He says finally.
And with that, you collect yourself with a little sigh, “‘Kay.”
Then, you were turning away and exciting the apartment before he knew it. Choso, left alone, moves his fingers to his chin that you’d recently touched, wondering why the hell he reacted that way. His hand then wanders to his lips and he nearly smiles to himself at the way you’d frozen up just from him licking your finger— as if he hadn’t done similar actions before.
Shaking his head, Choso ends up laughing at the whole thing while he makes his way to his bedroom. It’s been a while since he’s made you flustered like that. Part of him almost missed it.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Meanwhile, as you made your way downstairs wiping your thumb off on your dress, you found yourself replaying just about everything from the day so far.
It felt like so much had happened— from Gojo’s tongue all in your mouth to Choso’s sudden… Clinginess? You’re not sure what word to put to it yet but he’s been acting a bit strange. And if you’re being honest with yourself, so have you. You can’t remember the last time you found your eyes lingering on Choso the way they did today.
You’re not ashamed or embarrassed to admit that your best friend’s hot but the last time you checked him out this much was a few years ago when you had a crush on hi-
Cutting your thoughts off was the sound of Gojo calling your name. You didn't even realize you’d made it all the way downstairs. Though, the sight of Gojo in a dark blue suit and his hair neatly styled was all it took to capture all of your attention.
“Hi Satoru,” You greet with a kind smile on your face as you approach the man.
His hand is out for you to take once you’re close enough and his pretty blue eyes are everywhere on you within seconds, “Hey pretty girl,” Gojo hums whilst you lay your hand in his, “You look…” He trails off for a second as he lifts your clasped hands up a bit, signaling you to spin around for him. After which, the bright smile on his face seemed to widen, “Amazing, wow.”
“Aw, thank you,” You murmur while he twirls you around until you come to a stop in front of him. “Think I look good enough to pass as your girlfriend for a night?”
Gojo shrugs a little, his eyes still taking in the way your dress is clinging to you before swiping his tongue over his lips. “Mhm…” He hums mindlessly, halfway hearing whatever it is you just said, “Yeah… Y’sure you wanna go to this gala with me?”
You blink, “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I mean,” His head tilts, “We could always do somethin’ else.”
“Like?” Your eyes remain on his face despite his gaze all over your body.
Gojo nearly bites his lip, “We could skip all that ‘nd just fuck in my car, honestly.” Voice lowering a bit, he hardly realizes he just said that out loud until your reaction comes seconds later.
Heat swarms your face and you gulp, “W-What?”
The man finally meets your gaze and decides not to play too coy about what he’d just offered, “You heard me.”
“Are you serious?” You question.
“Only if you want me to be…” Gojo smirks. One of his hands drifts to your waist and he gently pulls you closer to him, “I mean, that would be a decent enough excuse to give my parents as to why I didn’t show up…”
“I-,” You gulp down whatever it is you were going to say as you try to figure out if he’s being serious right now, “Satoru…”
“Hm?” His brows raise and he studies your expression closely. It only takes Gojo a second or two to realize you were really considering his words, “Y’know you can say no, right?”
You crack a brief smile, “Y-Yeah I know… it’s just…”
He quirks a brow, “What? You wanna fuck me?”
“No!” You chirp, glancing away, “Well-, yes, but no,” He’s smiling at the way your brows push together while you try to figure out what to say, “N-Not right now… I-I just-“
Gojo interrupts your stammering with a laugh, “I was jus’ teasin’ you sweetheart, relax.”
You move to playfully hit his arm, “Do you get off on seeing me flustered or somethin’?”
This smug expression slips onto his face, “Y’want the honest answer to that-“
“No,” Your eyes get all wide and you quickly step to the side, “Let’s go.”
He snorts before turning around to open his car door for you. The two of you waste no time settling into the vehicle and you notice how Gojo’s eyes keep finding their way to your legs at any given chance.
For the time being, you decide to ignore his little glances. If anything, you tease him a bit once he starts driving by crossing one leg over the other, your leg being revealed more due to that slit in your dress.
And you just loved how Gojo didn’t hesitate to glance over whenever he got the chance to. You think you actually liked his little glances. It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve been looked at in such a way and you were truthfully relishing in it tonight.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
No, seriously— the entire night was filled with those longing glances. So much so that you think you were growing rather addicted to them. Hell, perhaps you were even searching for Gojo’s eyes to be on you at nearly every passing second.
After all, he does have such pretty eyes. A feature you soon learn has been passed down from his parents. You don’t think you’ve ever known someone to be such a spitting image of their parents before.
Actually, you’re surprised you even got to meet them. Especially considering that when you first walked into the gala with your arms looped around one of Gojo’s you swore there were one too many esteemed-looking guests scattered all over the place. And when Gojo had initially pointed out his parents to you, they were surrounded by a bunch of older people and hearty laughs could be heard coming from their direction.
He made a comment in your ear about how those same elderly folks were going to come swarming the two of you pretty soon, which led you to wonder just how important a family Gojo comes from.
Obviously, they’re pretty wealthy and well known but you’re completely unsure what for. Though, before you get a moment to ask him this, his attention is dragged away by the first interruption of the night— some older businessman who was greeting Gojo in the blink of an eye.
You tried to slip away from his arm to give him time to tend to the man but with the way he tugged you closer and his smile grew more tight-knit, you got the feeling that he didn’t want you to leave his side just yet.
Such an interaction continued countless times throughout the night up until he was practically ripped away from you. Some other group of people finally got to him and his attention was completely stolen from you.
You weren’t upset over it or anything though, you actually quite liked the little moment of escape you got. It gave you a chance to explore the venue a bit up until you finally found a bar to occupy yourself at. 
Only one drink was ordered and you managed to make small talk with some people who were also at this bar until things around you somewhat simmered down. As such, you eventually found yourself seated but facing the rest of the gala, your eyes watching Gojo’s parents chat with some more people— from your perspective, it seemed like they never got a break.
You tried looking around for Gojo but he was nowhere to be found. There were a lot more people now but things seemed more relaxed. Or maybe you were just feeling more relaxed.
Either way, with a sigh, you spun back around to face the bar as the soothing melody of Sade’s Smooth Operator filled your ears. Everything around you really was quite fancy, fancier than anything else you’ve ever experienced. Though, you dubbed it down to a bunch of rich people in suits making a bunch of connections with one another. Honestly, you could get used to this kinda lifestyle-
“You come here often?” A voice murmured right into your heart, nearly causing your heart to jump out of your chest as you flinched and turned your head to the person who’d just spoken.
An immediate sigh slips past your lips as you realize it’s just Gojo being as teasing as ever, “You scared the shit out of me, don’t do that,” You say with a chuckle.
He smiles, “And you didn’t answer my question, gorgeous,” Gojo purrs, tipping his head to the side as he leans against the bar and remains close to you, “What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ at a bar all alone, hm?”
You smile, “Well, my date-“
“Boyfriend,” He corrects, “For the night, remember?”
You swallow, “Riiight… My boyfriend, ditched me to go suck it up to some rich guys.”
“Yeah?” Gojo begins to play into this conversation just as much as you are, “What a terrible guy! Y’know, I’d never leave someone like you all alone like this.” His voice is filled with so much sarcasm that you can’t help but find the natural banter between you and him intriguing for the nth time.
“Really? So what would you do then?” You tease, maintaining such consistent eye contact with him that it almost makes him nervous.
Gojo shrugs casually and smoothly holds his hand out for you to take, “See, if you were my girlfriend, I’d have you out on that dance floor showin’ you off to all these lame rich people.”
Your face practically lights up at that, “Is this your way of inviting me to dance with you, Satoru?” You ask, breaking that little act of yours.
He’s quick to smile, “It is.”
With a hum, you place your hand in his and allow him to guide you out of your seat, “I suppose I’m inclined to accept your invitation then.”
Gojo swears that every time you speak, his heart is feeling all weird in his chest, “I suppose you are.”
And with that, he’s walking you to the nearest dancefloor where Sade’s voice has grown much louder. Obviously, given the abundance of wealthy people here, most people are swaying rather slowly with their partners. So of course you and Gojo follow suit and move to sway with that sweet melody.
Dancing with Gojo is probably the highlight of your day. Forget making out with him in some dusty storage room, or gazing at Choso much more than you intended to, nothing compares to right now as your arms drape around his neck and his around your waist— your body's swaying in sync to the song adorning the ambiance of the whole party.
It was almost romantic. Almost. 
Up until Gojo starts being playful again. A smile spreads across his face so suddenly and you raise a brow. He doesn’t give you a chance to question his expression as he’s talking before you know it, “Am I?” Gojo asks very randomly.
You snort, “Are you what?”
“A smooth operator?” God, he’s the biggest dork you’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with. All you could do was burst into a slight chuckle and shake your head at him. To which he raises a brow, “What?? That’s a genuine question.”
“I can’t stand you,” You giggle, rolling your eyes at his corny comment.
Gojo sighs, “Sit on me then.”
“Satoru,” You huff out in a scolding tone.
“What?” He questions, as if he didn’t say what he just said.
You turn your head to the side and chuckle at how shameless he is, “How do you go from being an idiot to some flirtatious freak within seconds??”
“I dunno,” Gojo shrugs, “Things just come to me.”
Nodding a little, “Do they?” You ask.
“Mhm,” He hums in response, staring intently at the side of your face.
“Well-“
“But I was being serious that time,” The way seriousness drips off of his tone has your body tensing.
Your eyes snap back over to him, “What?”
With perfect timing, he looks away, “There’s people watchin’ us right now.” Gojo points out with a little nod of his chin.
“So…?” A brow lifts in question and you keep your eyes on his face, “People have been watching us all night.”
“Nono, they’re watching like they’re seconds from approaching us.” He explains, glancing around at other people.
You chuckle nervously, “Okay… So what?”
“So…” Gojo lets out a long sigh and finally looks at you again, “I don’t feel like talking to anyone else tonight.”
“And what am I supposed to do about that?”
“Steal me away.”
Rolling your eyes at him yet again, “How?” You ask.
“Well,” He shrugs cheekily, “You are my girlfriend.”
“So?”
“Do I really have to spell it out-“
“Yes.”
“I-,” His jaw clenches a bit as he swallows any argument to that down, “Fine. No one’s gonna question me if they see you dragging me out of here.”
You blink, “Like, dragging you out to leave?”
“Mmh, no. Like, dragging me upstairs.” Gojo emphasizes, glancing over to a distant staircase.
You turn your head back to follow his gaze, “What’s upstairs?”
He finds himself looking at you again, “My old bedroom.”
“Your-,” You pause. Then, your head slowly turns to face him, “Oh.”
The man winks at you and his lips curve into a smirk, “Y’get it now?”
“Yeah, I think so…”
Gojo hums, “Think you can pull that off, sweetheart?”
You scoff at his little challenge, “Of course I can. I know how to be a fake girlfriend.”
“Do you? It feels like I’ve been putting in all the work tonight-“ His voice is caught in the middle of his throat as you tug him closer to you and tilt your head, your lips nearly on his.
“Has it really?” You whisper, eyes dropping down to his lips, “Should I start putting more effort into this twenty-four-hour relationship then?”
“Yes please,” He unintentionally begs, clearing his throat seconds later. “I mean-, yeah, that’d uh… that’d be nice.” Gojo tries to sound nonchalantly but he ultimately fails— something you find so ridiculously cute.
With one last little hum of acknowledgment, you pull him all the way in and your lips land on his. Gojo’s eyes widen for a second as if he wasn’t expecting that but in reality, he was just trying to put on a little show for the nearby lingering eyes. His hands grip onto your waist and he’s quick to shut his eyes and press his lips onto yours seconds later.
He had to make this believable after all…
As if the way you two have been looking at each other all night wasn’t enough to convince any idiot with eyes that you two were in a ‘relationship’.
And hey, maybe he gets a little carried away with making things believable because his hand somehow finds its way sinking along your body and he’s grabbing a greedy handful of your ass, groaning into your mouth, and pushing forward with you without a second thought. Then he feels you smile against him and he thinks his eyes almost roll to the back of his head.
It was such a simple little curve of your lips against his and yet he was already losing his mind. Or perhaps it was how long he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you. You’ve been inside his head all day and he couldn’t stop replaying your body against his earlier.
Fuck, if you kept kissing him the way you were right now, he swore he was going to take you right here and now– in front of everyone. Which is why he has to rip himself away for a second just to whisper to you, “Sweetheart, we-,” He’s cut off by your lips slotting against his again and Gojo can’t help but groan instead of finishing his statement.
Were you feeling the same way as him? Did he give you this unusual thrill inside the same way you did him? Was kissing him making you lightheaded? Was it distracting you from the surrounding world and making your body heat up all over the damn place? Gojo sure as hell hopes so because that’s exactly how he’s feeling now.
He tries to pull away again though, this time mumbling against your lips, “Fuckin’ need you,” He grunts out directly into your mouth.
Your grasp slips over to the sides of his neck and then up a little, hands framing his face before you ease back with a slight smile, “So have me then,” You whisper in response.
Gojo loses himself a bit at the sound of that, his lips sliding off of yours and finding themselves down against your neck and one of his hands dropping to grab ahold of you from that teasing slit in your dress, hoisting that one leg up against his hip and catching you by surprise. His other hand occupies your waist but his fingers are dancing dangerously against the fabric, as if he were seconds away from snatching something.
Your head tips back ever so slightly as a gasp leaves you, your awareness to still being in the middle of a gala coming to you, “N-Not here Satoru,” You chuckle at his hastiness, “People are watching-”
“Let them,” He hushes out against your skin, lips hot and wet under your jawline and his hand gripping onto your thigh.
You take things into your own hands by slipping your fingers down a little to his chest and giving him the softest little push, “Upstairs,” You murmur, “You’re supposed to be taking me upstairs, remember?”
Gojo shakes his head, “No… You’re supposed to be taking me upstairs.”
Rolling your eyes at his specifics, “Are you gonna let me?”
“Dunno if I’ll make it up there with you, baby,” He hums all too passionately into your neck, “I need you,” Gojo repeats yet again, this time licking your skin, “Needa taste you.”
A shiver runs down your spine and you gulp, moving one of your hands to pull one of his off of you. Slowly, you manage to remove Gojo’s grips all over your body but he struggles to pry himself away from your neck. Even so, you end up taking one of his hands in yours and walking backward, glancing around at the surprisingly few people actually looking at you two.
You’re thankful that not too many people seemed to care that Gojo doesn’t know how to keep his hands off of his girlfriend, with the exception of his parents who were among those individuals that were watching the small little show of affection you and Gojo just performed.
Your hand squeezes onto Gojo’s a bit tighter and you turn your body to walk properly toward the staircase he’d pointed at a while ago. Technically you don’t know exactly where you’re going but you assume he’ll lead the way once you make it upstairs.
Gojo snaps out of his little stupor and notices his parents are watching you drag him upstairs, making note that this plan of his seems to be working. Although, he secretly couldn’t care less that you were his excuse to escape this event– in reality, Gojo was genuinely eager to get in your pants.
But, you didn’t pay too much attention to that.
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@mua-for-now @bee3l0v3r @scarletteyuno @lilablogsblog @lolznoelle
@madaqueue @keriaonmarz @parakisssss @aniniyah @trx-xrt
@sxnkuna @chocolatecheer @unibrow-yzz @lovely-lady-tits @woofzz2
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@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad
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babydollmarauders · 9 months ago
Text
TWIN HUGHES — LUKE HUGHES
part of the luke’s gf au !
dolly.notparton
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dolly.notparton life the past 9 months…. thank you for sharing your birthday @/jackhughes 🤍 pretty sweet of you
Comments on this post are limited
jackhughes not like i had a choice, the twins were coming out whether i wanted to share a birthday or not
dolly.notparton i spent the last 9 months of my life making your presents, you could at least act thankful!
jackhughes do they come with a receipt?
dolly.notparton THATS YOUR NIECE AND NEPHEW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE!
jackhughes wtf is a swine?
dolly.notparton god you should’ve gone to college
dylanduke25 TWIN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!
dolly.notparton oh my god, they can say that and MEAN IT! DYLAN YOURE A GENIUS!
edwards.73 i don’t think anyone has ever said that about duker and meant it
dolly.notparton @/edwards.73 be nice to my dyl pickle
edwards.73 i’d be a lot nicer if you didn’t give me ammo by calling him things like “dyl pickle”
lhughes_06 so grateful for this little family we’ve created ❤️
dolly.notparton i l*ve you <3
lhughes_06 did you just censor the word “love”?
dolly.notparton maybe you would get the uncensored version if you hadn’t left your extremely pregnant girlfriend for hockey? idk, just a thought
jackhughes get him dolly!
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes stay out of this
_quinnhughes dolly and her dolls 🩷💙 i’m so happy for you guys. i know you’ll make amazing parents
dolly.notparton quinny, i love you tremendously. hurry up and finish in the playoffs so you can meet your niece and nephew 🤍
_quinnhughes i love you too but i’m not “hurrying” anything, i’ve got the cup in mind
dolly.notparton so you hate me and my children
_quinnhughes that’s not at all what i just said
dolly.notparton i can guarantee that’s exactly what you just said
lhughes_06 please don’t fight her on this, she’s tired and just pushed out two babies and i know she’ll find a way to be angry at me about this too
_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 so i should fight her on this? heard. @/dolly.notparton check your texts
elblue6 my babies and my grandbabies 💗
dolly.notparton love you mama el!! can’t wait for you to come see the twins!
curtislazar95 god help us, they’re multiplying
dolly.notparton maybe i’ll make a whole hockey team of them
curtislazar95 20 sarcastic poodle haired bambi skaters with insatiable appetites
john.marino97 congratulations, guys! i’m happy to hear it was a happy and healthy birth story
dolly.notparton they’ll love their uncle johnny because he’s a twin just like them 🤍
john.marino97 i can teach them all about being a twin
lhughes_06
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lhughes_06 Milo Oliver Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:16pm
Luella Grace Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:20pm
tagged dolly.notparton
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dolly.notparton we made those
lhughes_06 fuck yeah we did! we did fantastic!
dolly.notparton and jack tries to say i can’t cook!
jackhughes because you can’t. you burned water. HOW DO YOU BURN WATER?
dolly.notparton @/jackhughes do you see what i cooked up inside of me?! you cried when you saw them!
jackhughes that was between us!
dolly.notparton @/jackhughes and now it’s between us and luke’s 185k followers and probably all of twitter! 🫶
user72 ARE YOU TELLING ME SHE’S BEEN PREGNANT FOR NINE MONTHS AND NONE OF US NOTICED?!
user93 OH MY GOD! LUKE’S A DILF
liked by dolly.notparton
markestapa SHOW ME THE BABIES!
lhughes_06 if you’d check the groupchat for once, you’d see the babies
markestapa oh
markestapa OH THEY’RE SO CUTE! YOU GUYS DID GOOD
lhughes_06 thanks stop sign! 🛑
edwards.73 congrats guys 🤝
lhughes_06 thanks eds 🤝
dolly.notparton this is a birth announcement not a damn frat party photo dump, you guys could add some hearts or at least a damn smiley face!
edwards.73 @/dolly.notparton no 🤝
dawson1417 congratulations! can’t wait to meet them next season!
njdevils gift basket coming your way! 👀congratulations!
user20 TWINS 🥹🫶
rutgermcgroarty swimmers be swimming
lhughes_06 🏊‍♂️🏊‍♂️
dolly.notparton do guys think or do they just do?
user85 so not only is luke the youngest hughes brother, but he’s also the only one in a long-term relationship and the first one to have kids… jack and quinn better step it up
user03 they kept this a secret for nine months and then really just pulled a “SURPRISE!” on us?! he played hockey all the way up until the birth— they dropped NO hints
nhl congratulations luke and y/n!
_quinnhughes proud of you two and how much you’ve grown ❤️ not little kids chasing each other around with bugs and porcelain dolls anymore, are ya?
lhughes_06 nope, all grown up. in the league with 2 kids now! thanks bro
dolly.notparton not my fault he was scared of my dolls! have i mentioned that he made me get rid of them when i moved in?
_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton once or twice a day, yeah
dolly.notparton those were my babies 💔
lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton i just gave you 2 new babies… the real kind
dolly.notparton luke, you genius! i can get luella porcelain dolls!
lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton NO! THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT!
_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton look in the attic when you get home 😉
lhughes_06 THOSE DEMON THINGS HAVE BEEN UP THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!
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pastanest · 11 months ago
Text
Spencer Reid x gn!reader
A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3
warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific
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A Smile
You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.
You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P
As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.
Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?
His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.
You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!
Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.
Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?
Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.
You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?
He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.
Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?
And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.
You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P
That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.
Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.
You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.
Spencer: (:
Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.
You: omg you did not just send that
Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?
Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.
Spencer: (:
He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.
You: omg who are you!!
You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.
Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂
This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.
You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!
And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.
Spencer: Haha.
Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.
And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.
A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.
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boyfriendstevie · 1 year ago
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Stevie who’s so confident, so in love and sure of the love you share, but also who goes beet red when he finds out you’re a virgin and when you ask him to be your first I’m ❤️❤️❤️❤️
not exactly smut, but this blog is still 18+ so mdni pls! <3
-
“Steve?”
Your boyfriend, your sweet, kind, caring and normally oh-so-confident boyfriend, is oddly silently. Worryingly silently, considering what you’ve just told him. Sure, it’s a lot to take in, finding out that your partner is a virgin, but you know Steve’s heard worse things, and silence is the last reaction you’d expected from him. Though it doesn’t fit with what you know of Steve, you begin to worry that, somehow, this is a dealbreaker for him, “Sorry, I know that’s a lot, so if you don’t wan—“
Before you can follow that rabbit hole too far down, Steve shakes his head vehemently and finally says, somewhat shyly, “Sorry, I just… y-you want me to be your first?”
That’s not at all what you were expecting. He says it like he’s not sure he heard you correctly, eyes wide, cheeks turning a soft pink under your gaze. It’s your turn to become shy, and you feel like you’re on fire as you tilt your head to one side, cheek pressing into your shoulder in a futile attempt to ease the burn, “Well, I mean, yeah. I-if you want. ’S just, I trust you, I love you, and I know you’d care enough to make me feel good, and—“
Steve cuts off your rambling with a small, incredulous laugh laced with adoration, “Baby, ‘if I want’? You— you’re kidding, right? I… I would be honored. The fact that you’d trust me with that? I’d do anything to make you feel good, we’ll go however slow you want, I just— I love you, you know that?”
Steve’s cheeks flush even darker with his admission, a deep red crawling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down his neck, underneath moles begging to be kissed. It’s not that he’s ever doubted your relationship, your love, not like he has in the past, but to be trusted with something like this… Fuck. 
“I love you, honey,” he says again, a smile creeping onto his face, long fingers wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands from your face, “Whatever you want, I want it, too.” 
“I love you,” you repeat, leaning forward until your lips brush over his lightly, not quite a kiss, “What if… what if I want it now?” 
Steve groans, a sound from deep within his chest as he lunges forward, pushing you into the pillows behind your body until he’s hovering over you, “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” 
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willowsnook · 3 months ago
Note
I need a drink girly!! (Am I allowed to to put 3-4 alcohol choices? Idk)
Alcohol Vodka (it’s always been you.), Gin (Watch your fucking mouth.), Brandy (Do you enjoy pissing me off?), Wiskey (You’re mine, end of discussion.)
Mixer: Italian soda (Charles Leclerc)
Glass: Cooper Mug (Enemies *to lovers?🫶🏻🫶🏻🙏🏻*)
charles leclerc x reader
it's always been you watch your fucking mouth do you enjoy pissing me off? you're mine, end of discussion
-----------------------------------------------------
As Arthur's best friend, you were no stranger to F1 and F2 races, though you definitely preferred the latter, which surprised a lot of people. In your defense, you didn’t have to share Arthur at F2 races. Anytime he dragged you along to F1, you were stuck hanging with both him and his older brother, Charles.
Growing up with the Leclercs, you knew Charles very well, and you had always fought with him for Arthur's attention. Since you and Arthur were the same age, you naturally became fast friends, especially because your families were always around each other.
Charles had been closer with your older brother, but when he went off to boarding school, Charles turned his focus solely to teasing you. His teasing always revolved around you following Arthur like a lost puppy and your supposed schoolgirl crush. It had made you insecure at first, but Arthur assured you many times over the years that he didn’t see you that way. Besides, you’d seen Arthur at his worst too many times to ever consider him romantically.
“Do you enjoy pissing me off?” A familiar voice called from behind you in the Ferrari garage, and you smirked before turning around.
“What? You don’t like my outfit?” you asked innocently. Dressed in papaya orange, you twirled to flaunt your McLaren attire, purposely donning Oscar’s number to rile him up.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear another team’s colors when you’re in our garage,” Charles said bossily, and you snorted. “Where’s your little boyfriend anyway? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you grumbled just as Arthur strolled in, pulling his brother into a hug.
“Don’t stop your flirting on my account,” Arthur teased, causing you to roll your eyes.
“I’d rather cut my tongue off than flirt with her,” Charles retorted.
“Likewise,” you shot back, glaring at him. Arthur, amused as always, ushered you out of the garage, handing you off to Rebecca. You pouted, and he gave you a look.
“Until you and Charles realize you’re madly in love with each other, we’ll have to keep doing this split custody thing,” he teased.
The idea made you laugh. Yes, Charles had grown more attractive as you both got older, and you did find yourself laughing at his jokes when he wasn’t looking. And Charles had noticed you’d grown up quite nicely, tracking you with his eyes whenever you were together, much to Arthur’s amusement.
In Arthur’s mind, it was only a matter of time. After all, what could be better than the two most important people in his life ending up together?
A little later, you were grabbing a water outside the garage when two girls complimented your outfit.
“It’s nice to see someone here in something other than red,” one of them joked, and you laughed along.
“I can’t stand Ferrari, especially Charles,” she added, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked curiously.
“He’s so cocky, it’s insufferable to watch,” she said, and your expression hardened.
“Have you met him?” you asked.
“Well, no,” she stammered.
“So just because you’ve watched a few interviews and didn’t like his answers, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, you’ve decided he’s an asshole?”
The girl stuttered, but you cut her off.
“Charles is one of the most down-to-earth people I know. And even if he was cocky, he’d have every right to be. His driving record speaks for itself. So maybe watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about him,” you snapped before turning on your heel and storming off.
Rushing around the corner, you slammed right into a hard chest. Looking up to apologize, you realized it was Charles, giving you the strangest look. He had clearly heard everything.
Mumbling an apology, you scurried away before he could say anything.
You stuck to Arthur’s side for the rest of qualifying and groaned when he mentioned that Charles had invited both of you to join him, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre for dinner later.
When you met the group in the lobby, Arthur grew suspicious when you and Charles didn’t bicker the entire way to dinner.
“Did you guys have sex?” he blurted out, causing you to choke on your water. Charles looked at him in alarm before shifting his gaze to you.
“No, Arthur! Jesus,” you sputtered.
“Then why are you both being so weird?” he pressed.
“I don’t think we’re being weird at all,” Charles said smoothly. “Right, Carlos?”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Carlos muttered, turning back to Lando. Arthur eyed the two of you closely for the rest of the night, until an idea popped into his head.
As you all left the restaurant, he was supposed to call an UberXL.
“Sorry, guys, only normal Ubers available,” he said. “Y/n and Charles can grab their own ride back.”
Before you could protest, the car pulled up, and Arthur practically shoved everyone else inside, leaving you and Charles standing there, dumbfounded.
“Wanna just walk?” you suggested, breaking the silence. He nodded, and the two of you set off back toward the hotel.
“I heard what you said earlier,” he said, testing the waters.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied nonchalantly.
“Uh huh,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “I didn’t know you were capable of saying nice things about me.”
“I didn’t like hearing them talk about you like they knew you,” you confessed. “It’s different when I do it. I have evidence to back it up.”
“Oh, do you now?” he asked, smirking, and you smiled lightly.
“Tons.”
As you approached the busy street near the hotel, Charles grabbed your hand to lead you across. You blushed, and your face grew even redder when he didn’t let go once you reached the other side.
“Thank you, though, for what you said,” he said quietly, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze in response.
“If only Arthur could see us now,” you joked, and Charles laughed. “He’s always been obsessed with the idea of us being together.”
“Yeah, because he knew how big of a crush I had on you back then,” Charles said nonchalantly, and you halted.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, stunned.
"It was always you that I wanted to spend time with, not him," Charles said gazing into your eyes. "All those times I was 'trying to steal him away' was really just trying to be around you."
"Why didn't you ever say anything?"
Charles shrugged, pulling you along to walk again, "Honestly for a while I thought you were into him. And then we didn't see each other for a while and when we did I decided that if pretending to fight for his attention was how I would get to be around you I just went with it."
“Charles…” you began, but your voice faltered, unsure of what to say next.
He glanced down, a small, sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. But now... I’m tired of pretending.”
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The busy street noise faded into the background, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
“I had no idea,” you finally whispered, meeting his eyes.
“Well, now you do,” he said, his tone soft but sure, his hand still firmly holding yours.
Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand again and smiled. “Maybe… we don’t have to pretend anymore.”
His face lit up, the nervous energy between you dissolving into something lighter, warmer. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your cheek.
“Good,” he whispered. “Because I’ve waited long enough.”
With that, you let out a small laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement settle in your chest. As you started walking again, this time with your fingers still intertwined, it felt different—easier, natural.
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