#will hold her hand with his own trembling one

[mggslover]

Reflections

In which Spencer sees himself in a suspect, making him willing to do anything to protect her. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: crime x angst? x fluff? Content warnings: post prisoner!spencer (but no spoilers bc i'm still on s11 lol, so sorry for inaccuracies), one time mention of suicide and rape (no details), fade to black smut so suggestive content Word count: 3,8k A/n: my own entry for #lovers1kevent ! bit different from what i usually write. didn't exactly turn out like how i had envisioned it, but i'm still very curious to hear your thoughts!

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.” The sound of a clock striking midnight made you jump in your seat, the plastic stool screeching loudly against the cold, concrete floor. The interrogation room was filled with nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the pounding of your heartbeat. Everything in this room felt eerie: a harsh light shone down on you, irritating your eyes, and there was no escaping your reflection in the two-way mirror in front of you. You observed yourself through the glass, and to put it simply, you looked awful. The dress you were wearing was crumpled as it hung loosely on your frame, the dark circles under your eyes were noticeable from a distance, and your eyes themselves expressed no spark. They looked dimmed, with no emotion behind the colored irises. Though, that had been so for a while now.

The creak of the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, feeling disappointment when the same agent as before walked in. He wasn’t hard on the eyes: dark skin, rolled-up sleeves that showed his muscular forearms, a neatly trimmed goatee covering his sharp jaw, and eyes that looked just as cutting as they darted over you. Maybe, in another life, you would’ve considered dating him. In a life where he didn’t suspect you of killing three men.

He stayed quiet as he made his way over to you, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. He placed a folder in front of him, shoving it toward you. “Still not going to talk?”

You cleared your throat. Nevertheless, the words came out hoarse. “I have nothing to say.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance before crossing his arms. “Do I need to remind you of your rights? You can contact a lawyer, or we can get you one.”

“I also have the right to remain silent.”

A small huff escaped his lips, and you noticed the way he clenched his fingers, as though trying to hold himself back from making a comment he’d regret.

His eyes landed back on you, glaring. “A girl like you won’t survive in prison.”

“Well, then it’s good that I’m not going to prison,” you snapped back with a small smile. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You didn’t do anything wrong, yet here you were.

“I’d lose the attitude if I were you because it’s not looking good.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he cut you off. “Open the folder.”

You inhaled deeply before obeying. You hated the way you couldn’t help the nerves from creeping in. Your hand trembled as you opened the folder. The picture that greeted you was one of three lifeless bodies slumped over each other in an empty alley. A bitter tang formed in the back of your throat, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to look back at the agent.

“Looks familiar?”

Your eyes flicked over the image again. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“The people. Do you recognize them?”

You nodded.

“I want a clear answer,” he said, his voice raised.

“Yes,” you replied, matching his tone. “We went to college together.”

There was no way you could forget them. Unfortunately. The idea that they were wiped off the face of earth gave you a strange sense of comfort. Maybe now you could find the peace you’d been looking for. The peace she was looking for.

The agent seemed relieved to have gotten an answer out of you. “And you met up with them again today. Is that right?” he queried, nodding toward the folder.

You got the hint and pulled the first picture off the pile, revealing another underneath it. It was a selfie taken by two women. You spotted yourself in the right corner by the bar, in conversation with the three men he was referring to. His gaze stayed focused on you, trying to see if you’d reveal any emotion.

“It was our college reunion. As you can see I wasn’t the only one there,” you explained.

“Multiple witnesses have told us you were the last person seen talking to them.”

You shrugged. “Is that something significant?”

“Not necessarily so,” he answered, sitting up straighter. “What is, is that you left through the emergency exit. And what makes it even more suspicious is that you left right after the victims got their drinks served.”

You gave him a blank look.

“The victims were poisoned.”

Ah.

You offered him a tight smile. “I think that’s something you need to bother the bartender about.”

“We checked him out already. The only person we can connect to this case is you.”

A silence followed. It truly didn’t seem like you’d be leaving anytime soon. You rubbed your hands down on the material of your dress, gathering courage.

“It’s an unfortunate coincidence. Like I told you, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t want anything to do with them,” you clarified, the disdain evident on your tongue.

The agent turned his head around, looking at the two-way mirror. The thought of other agents standing behind that wall, all analyzing you full of judgement, made your skin crawl. 

“Seems like you’re not too fond of the men.”

You scoffed, “No one is.”

“What about Natalie Fisher?” he wondered aloud. “She seemed close to you. We found multiple pictures dating back to high school.”

Like a gust of wind, the memories came back to you. How you found Natalie standing in front of your college dorm room, smiling brightly as she introduced herself as your roommate. You instantly hit it off: sharing the same humor, the same passions. Only a year younger than you, but a carbon copy. From that day on you were inseparable. 

It all came back to that one night — that one time you bailed on her, deciding studying for an upcoming exam was more important than joining her at a frat party. It was only when she called you awake in the middle of the night, her voice shaking as her words tripped over her tongue, telling you she didn’t know where she was and how she woke up in an empty alley, possibly drugged and with her clothes torn — that you knew you made the biggest mistake in your life.

You shook the thoughts away. Pursing your lips as you shrugged. “She was. I don’t know why you’re bringing her up.”

“Her report says she died two years ago from suicide. Or did you kill her as well?”

It felt like he’d knocked the breath out of you. You made a choking sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “You’re sick,” you spat in disbelief.

“I’m sick?” He chuckled sarcastically. “You’re the one who murdered those people.”

“I didn’t murder anyone!”

The sound of your yelling reverberated off the concrete walls, the echo scaring you. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back tears as you bit your tongue. There goes your attempt at staying calm. He was playing games with your mind. You knew this was all a trick — a way to get you to admit to the crimes he was naming. And it drove you crazy that it was having an effect.

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you muttered.

-`♡´-

Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as he looked through the glass. You’d been sitting there for three hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-six seconds, counting. He didn’t know what it was about you that made it impossible to look away. Hotch had told him to go home. Hotch was certain that they got the right unsub, and he assured him that you’d confess at some point. But he couldn’t get himself to move. To turn his head even. All he felt was a nagging guilt as he watched you being questioned by Morgan. It was a different experience to see an interrogation when he’s been in one himself. He now understood what it was like. How pressuring their questions can be, how the weight of a sentence is crushed on your shoulders, and how they keep pushing you to the point where you even start doubting your own truth. 

All he could think of when he saw you was innocence. A soft, radiant white light surrounded you. You were bright even against the harshness of the room. There was no rational way to explain how he felt, only that he sensed the deepest desire to keep you safe from everything that could hurt you.

“She’s working on my nerves,” Morgan exclaimed, tension visible in his shoulders as he stomped out of the interrogation room. 

“We can’t stop,” Hotch stated. “We haven’t gotten an answer out of her yet.”

Morgan let out a deep huff. “It’s clear that she did it.”

Spencer's focus was back on you. Since he’s been to prison he’s been more aligned with his feelings. His heart overpowering his mind at times. 

“She’s not our unsub,” Spencer spoke up, surprising even himself with the firmness of his voice.

Everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting for the genius revelation he always had. But the room stayed silent.

Hotch eyed him, “What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” Spencer replied, not caring to elaborate further. He nudged Derek aside and headed for the door. “I’ll take it from here.”

He pulled the heavy metal door open, at once met with your doe eyes as you faced him. For the first time tonight, you didn’t flinch when someone entered. 

Spencer had to swallow. His gaze momentarily dropped to the floor, feeling overwhelmed by how beautiful you looked up close. You seemed tired, cold, yet somehow angelic.

His eyes never left yours as he made his way over to you. You held his gaze, observing him with the same intensity as he was. He carried a calm, magnetic presence, which made you feel an unexplainable urge to get closer to him.

“Are you cold?” he eventually asked, his voice gentle and considerate.

You blinked at his question, clearly not expecting it. You remembered how you were only wearing a light dress, noticing the goosebumps that had formed on your bare legs. Inevitably, you nodded.

He surprised you again by taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders. The fabric felt heavy, enveloping you like a warm blanket.

“Thank you,” you silently mumbled, noticing a small dimple appear in his cheek.

He sat down in front of you, resting his arms on the table between you, as though compelled to get as close as possible. The moment felt intimate, your eyes locked on his tender brown ones, making the world fade around you. “I believe you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, a frown formed on your face as you realized he wasn’t about to say more. “What?”

“I believe you,” he repeated in the same composed manner. He leaned forward even further, and it was then that you noticed you had subconsciously mirrored his movement, drawn to him like a magnetic pull. 

“They suspect you, but I don’t.”

He didn’t need to rephrase his words for you to understand who he meant by them. You could almost feel the other agents’ glaring stares pressing down on you through the glass.

“Try to forget about them,” he reminded you, as if reading your thoughts. You didn’t look up to face him, instead your focus was on the proximity of your hands on the table, his finger just inches away from touching yours. Spencer noticed the look in your eyes, and moved his little finger just enough to brush against yours.

An electric shock coursed through you. Simultaneously, both of you shuddered, stunned as you saw the other wearing the same stupefied expression. Sure, it could’ve been a static shock, but something told you it was more than that. And by the look of the curly haired agent, he felt the same.

“Why don’t you?” you asked, returning to the subject. “Suspect me, I mean.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “Because I know what it’s like to be in a situation like you are.” He saw the confusion written on your face, continuing his explanation. “There’s something about being in a room like this — being treated like you’re guilty before you even speak — that makes you start questioning your own truth.” 

Questions flooded your mind, but you chose not to press further. You had someone who believed you, you weren’t going to ruin that opportunity by being too curious.

“So, what now?” your voice sounded more sure, hopeful even.

“Usually, we ask people if they’re willing to take a polygraph exam,” he explained. “It can also be referred to as a lie detector test, even though that term is often used incorrectly. A professional will ask a series of questions, and as you answer, the device will measure multiple psychological indicators which are associated with lying, like your blood pressure and pulse. I know it can sound scary, but in cases like these — when there’s no clear evidence — it might be the only thing keeping you from going to prison.”

His words hit you hard, though the gleam in his eyes remained soft. You inhaled deeply before nodding. “I’ll do it.”

-`♡´-

“She’s telling the truth.”

You hadn’t known pure relief until now. Your eyes closed, trying to stop the flood of emotions from flowing in when the pressure cuffs and sensors were being removed from your arms and hands. You didn’t know whether to cry or to cheer, but when you opened your eyes and saw Spencer — who had introduced himself as Dr. Reid, smiling at you, you were sure everything would turn out okay.

“Impossible,” the agent who questioned you earlier huffed under his breath.

The chief who had introduced himself as Aaron Hotchner walked up to you. “For now you’re free to go. However, this case isn’t closed yet. You’ll remain our primary suspect until we find more proof.”

The sharpness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. You kept quiet as he and the other agents left the room, leaving you alone with Dr. Reid.

He closed the distance between you two, standing near enough that he could see all the details on your face. He fought the urge to tuck the loose strings of hair behind your ear, to hold you and tell you that you were okay.

“You did really well,” he said with a soft smile. “Your heartbeat stayed on an average of 70 beats per minute, only going up to 86 once, which is still in the normal range.”

“Did you peek at the monitor?” you jokingly teased.

“I- uh, no. I just counted.” Spencer shyly admitted, earning a playful grin from you. You took his hand in yours, his palm slightly sweaty, as if he was nervous about the outcome too. Then you placed his hand on your chest, right where your heart was. “What about now? Higher than average?”

He swallowed, a blush creeping up his neck. “95 beats per minute.”

The tension between you was palpable, though his touch felt comforting. Your hand was placed over his, and you could both feel the way your heartbeat steadily decreased as you brushed your fingers soothingly over his.

“Can I drive you home?” Spencer offered.

You bit your lip in an effort to hide your grin, but then the corners of your mouth slightly dropped. “I don’t really have a place to stay.”

His brows lifted in surprise, but an empathetic twinkle appeared in his bambi eyes. “You could stay at my place.”

Spencer wasn’t sure why the words came out, but he meant them. He could practically hear the voices of his team telling him to not get involved with someone on a case, let alone a potential suspect. But it wasn’t like he was the first person to do so. And he wouldn’t waste the opportunity of getting closer to you. Maybe if he could get to know you better, if he could make you comfortable enough to open up to him, he could prove to everyone that you were innocent. Because deep down, he knew you were.

-`♡´-

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing, man?” Morgan called out, rushing after Spencer, who had just entered the bullpen to grab his satchel bag before heading out with you.

“Hotch told me I could go home,” he hastily replied, stuffing his papers into his bag.

“Yeah, two hours ago. Before you decided to flirt with a suspect,” he exclaimed in frustration.

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Spencer recounted under his breath.

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “Everyone saw what went on in that room, Reid,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I would’ve least expected this from someone like you.”

“Someone like me doesn’t exist anymore, Derek,” Spencer snapped, a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m not who I was before prison, and neither will I ever be that person again. However, I can help her from turning into someone like me. So, if you don’t mind, I am leaving now.” 

He left Morgan at a loss of words as he walked off. You were waiting on him; your posture stiffened as you wrapped his jacket closer around you. Gently, Spencer threaded his fingers through yours and guided you to the elevator.

Once inside, Spencer pressed the button to the ground floor, then leaned his head back to the wall, letting out a fatigued sigh.

“I am sorry for causing you trouble,” you apologized, nervously picking at the fabric of his jacket that hung loosely over your arms.

His gaze softened, and he shook his head before he reached out to hold your hand once more. It was ironic how he longed for your grounding touch. “You’re not causing me any trouble. I’m sorry for the way they’re treating you. It’s our job to be cautious, to not easily trust someone.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you trust me,” you stated, though it came out more as a question, waiting for confirmation.

His other hand lifted up to touch your cheek, and his heart warmed at how you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I do.”

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Can you prove it to me?”

He responded with a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup your face in his large palms. You rose to your tiptoes, leaning in until his sweet lips found yours.

-`♡´-

Spencer had expected to spend the ride home talking to you. Instead, you spent the entire ride trying to resist the urge to climb on top of each other. Once he tasted your lips, he couldn’t get enough, and neither could you.

Your giggle sounded through the dimly lit halls of his apartment complex as he dragged you up the stairs. 

“Hurry,” you impatiently chuckled as he struggled to find his keys in his bag. He joined your giddy laughter as you entered the apartment. The second he shut the door close, he gently pressed you against the wall, his lips finding yours again. You let out a satisfied hum, your fingers sliding into the soft curls of his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your bottom lip.

“Wait—one second,” he murmured.

“No,” you pouted, capturing his lips. 

He kissed you back—then again, and again—before finally pulling away. “I just need to put my gun away.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Just make it quick.”

He gave you a big grin and walked to the cupboard, where his safe was hidden behind his jackets and a row of spare shoes. It felt strange to have someone in his apartment. Strange to be smiling so brightly, to feel so much, after the emptiness prison has brought him. But strange didn’t mean bad. It felt new. And new could be good. You could be good.

His fingers pressed down on the familiar buttons: 62383. With a soft click, the lock opened; he took his gun from its holster on his pants and safely put it away.

When he turned back, he saw you leaning against the wall, a sweet expression on your face as you awaited him. He strode toward you, immediately pulling you in and kissing you fiercely.

Spencer was aware of his actions. Aware that he shouldn’t be doing what he was about to do with you. But as his hand made contact with the warm skin of your inner thighs, and as your sweet sounds filled the air, he chose to simply not care.

-`♡´-

The next morning you woke up with messy curls tingling against your face. You chuckled as Spencer lay asleep with his head resting on your chest. Your fingers ached with the urge to graze them through his hair, to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. Instead, you held your breath as you climbed from underneath him.

The golden sun shone brightly through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings. You tiptoed through the room, gathering the items of clothes one by one, until you were fully dressed. 

Wearing yesterday’s dress sent a shiver through your body, being reminded of the long hours spent in that bleak interrogation room. 

You mumbled a sorry, before opening his closet and fishing a T-shirt out of it, a blue one with a faded Caltech logo, barely visible. You ignored the thoughts forming in your head, the itch to want to know more about the man who was still sleeping soundlessly in the bed that you shared. 

Once you found yourself a suitable pair of pants, Spencer started groaning from the other side of the room. You turned around, catching his hand patting down the empty space beside him, as if in search of the heat of your body. It felt irresistible to not check up on him. You slowly made your way to his side of the bed, crouching down and lightly stroking his face. His eyes blinked open, and the way he smiled made your heart churn. 

“I need to go,” you softly whispered to him.

His smile faltered. “Where to?” He sat up straighter on the bed, but you gently pushed him back down.

“Will I see you again?” Spencer asked when you didn’t respond.

Your lips curled in a smile, “I’m sure you will.”

And sure you were, because as soon as you left the bedroom, you were headed to the cupboard, pushing aside the jackets that hung on the hooks, until your eyes landed on the shining steel safe. 

62383.

The lock sprung open, and in a swift motion you took the gun and hid it in the bottom of your purse. I will be seeing you again, Spencer. Just under different circumstances.

[soleilapproves]

ex-convict!sukuna tries to talk to burnt out!reader about her feelings but she dismisses him. not proofread, sorry :(

prompt for more context

Anxiety lathered your back in cold sweat as you received your exam sheet from your TA, not bothering to look twice at your haphazard state before moving on to the next person.

You knew there was a reason why your paper was given to you faced down while your friend received hers with bright red numbers beaming up at her. You knew it was just your insecurity speaking to you, but it really did feel like the entire classroom of seventy-five people were staring at you. Even if your seat was all the way in the corner and Sukuna’s faded brown leather jacket basically cloaked you into invisibility.

You weren’t sure how you accidentally snagged it in the first place, all you remember was that you had slept with him the night before an important exam and rushed out with his jacket instead of your oversized hoodie that you sported for the Walk of Shame. It was the only thing comforting you at the moment. The familiar smell of nicotine and wet grass clouded your senses as you imagined him holding you close with his fingers stuffed in your cunt and his lips on your neck after yet another failure.

Just how many times were you going to go to him to comfort yourself? It was starting to become a habit that shaved you to your bones.

Your chest tightened as the ceiling got lower and lower to the point where you could feel the bright fluorescent lights burning the brittle hair on your scalp. The brick walls engulfed you till yours bones crunched and your muscles tightened.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your worn denim satchel as you silently raced out the lecture hall, trembling like a fawn. Your boots splashed against the wet ground as you walked towards the back of the building and slid down on the wall while hugging yourself.

Your closed palm held your failure. Your crushed and creased exam sheet. A part of you wanted to grind it to nothing under your boots, but a part of you still had a sense of accountability so you shoved it in Sukuna’s jacket.

While fishing around in his pockets, you found two very interesting things—a leaf of acetaminophen tablets, and a pack of cigarettes. You knew he smoked with the way his jacket smelled but you’d never seen him do it. The leaf of tablets led you to believe that he must’ve been trying to quit.

You’d never been a smoker, always worried that you’d get addicted once you started, becoming a slave to the little white cylinder, but today was different. It was your last chance at passing the class. The last quiz you could get good grade on before failing the entire class even after giving the final.

You assumed he could always quit faster with one less cigarette in the box so you decided to look for a lighter and found one in his inner pocket.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A large, tattooed hand snatched the cigarette and lighter from your grasp. Sukuna stared at you like you’d betrayed him. You groaned to yourself as you rubbed a hand down your face. You’d forgotten you had texted him to pick you up after class.

This confrontation was of your own design.

“Smoking, what do you think? Give that back,” you got up and tried to snatch it away, but he had managed to grab the box from you as well and thrown it down on the ground, immediately crushing it with his boots.

“I can’t believe you’d destroy pricey cigarettes like that,” you quipped as you shrugged off his jacket, but he grabbed on to your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. “It’s cold.”

Of course, a man of few words when it finally came to talking about something than yourself. “Come on, I’ll drop you home,” his large hand grabbed yours as he briskly walked to his jeep that was parked nearby.

Like clockwork, you pulled him into a rough kiss as he got into the driver’s seat, but he pulled away, a string of saliva thinning into air as held you in place by your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” Your usual routine with him was very predictable—you’d call him to let out some stress, make out a little in his car once he’d come and get you, then go to his place.

Not once had he complained, except for a few instances where he’d insist on fucking you after making you come, not even bothering to ask you to return the favor; a strange occurrence for a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement. Especially with someone as rugged as him.

Usually jail would harden a man up, turn him into an insensitive boor, but it felt the opposite when he’d treat you rather gently: a hand on the small of your back as you’d try to get into his monstrous jeep, or checking in with you after you’d pass out as soon as he pulls out.

It was unexpected yet strangely welcoming.

“You look terrible,” he grimaces. Your cold sweat begins to dry up with the heat of your rage. “Wow. I know I’m not the hottest girl out there, but you really didn’t need to rub it in. I’m out.” He grabs your satchel before you can leave with it. It hangs between you both much like your relationship.

“Don’t get out. I didn’t mean it like that. You just… look really tired.”

You stare at him for a long time before you place your bag back in your lap. You stare ahead at the expanse of fir trees and grass as you lean back in your seat. “Since when did you care about any of that? Let’s just go to your place.”

“When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?” he asked as he started his car. He snatched your satchel and threw it in the backseat. A usual practice for him, although, it was you in the back with him while your bag sat in the front.

“Why are we even talking about this? You’re being weird.” Sukuna’s knuckles turn white at your comment, gripping the steering wheel harder. Your mind races about all the possible ways he could kill you right now. You never really argued with him because you were too afraid to see what he’d be like with his patience on its final thread.

However, you pushed that line today. He was over the edge. You could tell with the way his brows furrowed and his lips flattened ever so slightly. The jeep hadn’t picked up speed. Thank goodness for that.

“You’re in college. You need to take care of yourself,” he flatly said as he made a turn towards his apartment complex.

“Why do you care? You’re not my bo—“

There it was. The taboo word. He sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend, but he didn’t like the reminder of it either. Only replying to you in grunts and hums when you’d say it. And it wasn’t like you both were that talkative with each other in the first place.

“I’m just worried about you.”

Now he was crossing the line. A boundary you built with ever so shaky hands, so thin that you’d topple over to him if he’d show the least bit affection. You knew he wanted in. You could tell with the way he’d hold your face when his lips would slot themselves on yours. When you’d taste yourself on his tongue.

But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t right. You’re both fucked up, albeit, in different degrees, but still very messed up with the things going on in your lives.

You did not want him to know what really went on in your mind. Never open the door for a stranger. Even if he knows all about how your body sings for him when he caresses your core.

“Stop the car.”

“What the fuck? We’re about to reach.”

“I said, stop the car. I’m gonna walk home.”

“It’s raining, at least let me drop you off.”

“Stop the car or I’ll jump out.”

You didn’t look back at Sukuna’s face as you walked away. Nor did you tell him that you’d see him later. You both knew he would. Your texts would always come in when you’d be feeling even lower than you presently were.

And then from Sukuna’s jacket (that you were still wearing), you took out a singular, slightly bent cigarette.

—

more ex-convict!sukuna fics

[okaysonny]

okkkayy, what if jake got his gf pregnant before marriage what would his mom’s reaction be + other big deal members 😶😶?? (love your fics btww!!!)

ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY 😧 ╏ jake kim

a/n: unserious. and thanks anon!

you always use protection. plus, the pill is 99% effective at preventing this. and yet...

"...i'm pregnant"

★ jake stands there with a stupid look on his face because he's stupid.

★ to be honest, he doesn't want to bring a child into the world when he's leading big deal. jake wants to retire before even thinking about it. he loves you, but this isn't something he planned for.

★ has a serious discussion about the risks, making sure you understand the weight of the situation. still, he knows it's your choice in the end. once it's clear you want to keep the baby, jake respects your decision. he's the type to step up no matter what.

★ watches parenting videos at night while rubbing his temples.

★ tells minseon first 😬 this is the part that scares him the most.

★ his mom: pissed as hell 🤣

★ the second jake tells her, she puts out her cigarette with tight lips. he's already sweating.

"jake kim" "...yes, mother?" "are you telling me you got a girl pregnant before putting a ring on her finger?" "t-the thing is..." "like father, like son"

★ she’d ask all the hard questions: how are you going to raise a baby in this life? do you think this is fair to the child? are you ready for this kind of responsibility?

★ anddd i have a feeling that if you're from a 'normal' family, she'd have more reservations. not that minseon is classist, but y'know...

★ jake explains that you always did it safely, so the pregnancy wasn't from recklessness. he's aware of the risks, but it's your decision to keep the baby. he wants to step up and support you.

★ ...that does get her eyes to soften.

"well...in any case, i know you'll do a better job than your own father"

★ i think in canon right now, jake and his mother have a strained relationship. as far as we know, he only visits minseon when he needs something! 😅 + she resents that he supposedly hates his father...yet became a gangster like him and left her on her own...just like gapryong.

★ but minseon also knows that jake didn't inherit his womanizing side. she knows that he'll be a great father, even if he doesn't think so.

★ she may be tough, but deep down, she’s happy about a grandchild...even subtly offers to mind the baby if jake is too busy and you need a break.

★ she ends up cooking for you. the baby needs to be healthy.

now...he needs to tell big deal...

★ sinu would be so happy for jake. he cares about him like a younger brother, so once the initial shock settles, he’d smile and congratulate him properly.

but then it would hit him.

jake, who never seemed to care about relationships in the first place, is having a kid before him.

"god...yeonhui is gonna have a field day with this. you better start saving man. kids are expensive"

★ would yeonhui scare him as a joke? absolutely.

"sinu, what if i accidentally got pregnant? would you step up like jake?" "h-hold on..."

★ you already know jerry would do the absolute most 😭

★ immediately places a loyalty hand on jake's shoulder.

"boss…you’re going to be a father?" his voice is trembling, like jake just told him he's DYING. "i will lay down my life for this child. it is my duty as number 2" "jerry...i didn't even ask you to- are you crying?"

★ jerry starts researching baby vitamins + recommending parenting books. already thinking about making the child wear a tiny big deal jacket.

★ jason and brad feel like the same characters to me. i'm sorry. i guess jason is portrayed as more blunt and serious?

"jake...don't take this the wrong way, but i don't think you know anything about babies" "you don't think i know that, jason?"

★ the girls knit a baby blanket together :') and make one of those "we're so excited to meet you" videos.

★ jake would not half ass being a dad. he’d try his hardest to balance big deal and fatherhood, even though it won’t be easy. but the baby will be loved. from the parents, the girls and big deal.

bonus!

lineman leans back in his chair, surveying the small pile of cash on the table. "alright, i’m locking in my bet — it’s a boy"

lua scoffs. "nah, you’re wrong. it’s definitely a girl. and she’s gonna have him wrapped around her finger before she can talk"

lineman shakes his head. "a girl? we’d have to protect her from all the freaks in this city. a boy would be easier"

"a boy would be just as much trouble!" she rolls her eyes. "but imagine boss jake with a daughter. he’d be like, the ultimate girl dad"

"tch, we’ll see about that. alright, bets are at 50/50. let's see if anyone else wants to-"

"...guys" an all too familiar voice booms behind them.

lineman and lua turn to look at jerry like children caught with the cookie jar.

"you’re betting on boss jake’s child? his future offspring?" he shakes his head in disappointment. "this is incredibly inappropriate"

lineman and lua exchange a guilty glance.

lua has the courage to speak. "i mean…yeah, but—"

"shame on you two" jerry crosses his arms. "both of them deserve respect, not this gambling on their unborn child’s gender"

lineman suddenly has an idea. "so jerry...you must think it's a girl, right?"

jerry nods. "obviously. can't you see it? imagine her holding jake's pinkie with her tiny little hands"

lua smirks, catching lineman's drift as he discreetly slides a notepad to her. "so hypothetically...you'd place a bet on girl?"

he closes his eyes, lost in thought. "exactly. she’d teach him patience, unconditional love—"

lua nods, cutting him off as she jots notes down. "mhm. yeah. and how much are you putting down?"

jerry strokes his chin. "i'd say...30,000 won, easy-"

he blinks. "wait..."

jerry's jaw drops, the betrayal evident on his face. "you tricked me"

lineman grins, holding his hands up. "of course not. you just wanna see boss jake become a girl dad. that’s passion"

jerry opens his mouth to argue — then closes it. he shamefully places cash on the table.

"this stays between us" he whispers, glancing from side to side.

lua nods in satisfaction. "of course"

jason walks by, looking at the money on the table. "you guys are still on this? fine, put me down for a boy. 75,000 won"

˚⊱🪷⊰˚

jake blinks in disbelief when the truth gets exposed. "...you guys are betting? on my child?"

lineman, lua, and jason whistle, staring at the wall in fascination.

jake looks at jerry, expecting some shame.

jerry looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "...i was tricked"

divider: @thecutestgrotto

[onebadassunicorn]

The Way We Were - Alternate Ending

(re-read Chapter 5 before reading this ending)

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pining, angst, attack, gore, blood, injury, some fluff

word count: 8.9K

Taglist: @motheroffae @demon-master-zero @tele86 @batboyslutt @salvatoresister1 @callsign-midnight @angiieguevara @kk191327 @rcarbo1 @jennigsonl @sillyfreakfanparty

Image owned by Book Art by Sloan.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

********

Chapter 6 - ALTERNATE ENDING

Y/n POV

The pain was unbearable. It tore through me, sharp and relentless, as I lay on the cold stone street of the Hewn City. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky, and my breaths came shallow, each one more labored than the last. My vision blurred, dark edges creeping in, but I fought to stay conscious.

I had failed.

I had completed the mission—I had given Rhys the information he needed—but I hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been careful enough. Keir’s men had caught me just as I was slipping away. I had fought, had taken down as many as I could, but there were too many. The dagger buried in my side pulsed with agony, and I knew I didn’t have much time left.

As the pain overtook me, my mental shields wavered.

And that was all it took.

A roaring crash of power exploded through the street, a surge of shadows and night so fierce it sent a shiver down my weakening body. And then he was there.

Azriel.

He winnowed into Hewn City like death itself, his wings flaring wide, his expression an unholy mix of rage and terror. His shadows lashed out, finding the remaining men who stood over me, their swords still dripping with my blood.

Azriel didn’t hesitate. He struck, swift and lethal, his blade singing through the air. He moved with terrifying precision, cutting them down one by one, shadows wrapping around their throats, slicing through their armor like they were nothing more than paper.

Keir’s men never stood a chance.

And when the last body fell, Azriel was suddenly beside me, falling to his knees so fast the stone cracked beneath him.

“No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice raw with panic. His hands trembled as they hovered over me, afraid to touch, afraid to hurt me more. But I was already so far gone.

Blood bubbled up in my throat as I tried to smile. “You—took your time,” I rasped weakly.

His breath hitched, his amber eyes wide and wild as he finally scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. “I’m here,” he breathed, his voice breaking. “I’m here, and you’re going to be okay.”

I coughed again, more blood spilling over my lips. He flinched at the sight of it, his grip tightening around me as if he could hold me together by sheer will alone.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered fiercely, his forehead pressing against mine. “I was a fool. A gods-damned fool. I should have seen it—I should have seen you.”

My heart clenched at the agony in his voice, but I had made my peace. “It’s okay,” I murmured, though my voice was barely more than a breath. “You don’t have to—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his throat bobbing as he fought back tears. “Don’t tell me it’s okay. I was blind, and I hurt you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but don’t tell me it’s okay.”

I swallowed, my body trembling in his arms. “You have Elain,” I whispered. “Go back to her. Be happy.”

Azriel’s entire body tensed, his shadows pulsing around him. “No,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken thing. “I don’t love Elain.”

I blinked sluggishly, confused. “You—you always—”

“I was wrong,” he cut in, his voice fierce. He shook his head violently, his hand cupping my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek with devastating tenderness. “But it was never her. It was always you.”

My breath hitched, but it came out wet, rattling. I was slipping. The darkness was pulling at me, calling me under.

Azriel felt it. He knew.

“No,” he said urgently, shaking me slightly. “You are not dying here. You don’t get to leave me. Not when I just found you.” His hands clenched around me. “I love you. I love you. And I need you to hold on, do you hear me? You hold on for me. For us. For the future I was too much of a coward to see before.”

My eyelids were so heavy, but his words... his words were everything I had wanted to hear for years.

“I love you, too,” I whispered. “Always have.”

Azriel let out a choked sob, his grip tightening around me. “Then don’t leave me.”

********

Azriel POV

Azriel winnowed into the House of Wind, holding you tightly in his arms, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might shatter inside his chest. Blood soaked his hands, his leathers, staining his arms as he cradled you against him. Your breathing was shallow, your body limp. He could feel you slipping away, and the terror that gripped him was unlike anything he had ever known.

The moment his boots hit the marble floor, chaos erupted.

Rhys was already there, his violet eyes wide with panic, his power a barely contained storm in the air around him. “Mother above,” he breathed, stepping forward as Feyre let out a strangled sob beside him.

Feyre’s hands covered her mouth, her entire body trembling as she saw the extent of your injuries. “No, no, no,” she whispered, tears already streaming down her face. “Madja! We need her now!”

Cassian and Nesta were there too, both of them frozen in horror. Cassian, usually so full of battle-worn composure, looked as if someone had ripped the ground from beneath him. His hazel eyes were wild with grief, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

But it was Nesta who moved first.

Her blue-gray eyes locked onto Azriel, her expression dark with fury even as tears slipped down her cheeks. Before anyone could react, she stormed forward and slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the room.

Azriel barely felt it.

But Nesta’s voice was venomous, shaking with rage and grief as she spat, “You let her leave. You let her think she didn’t matter.”

Azriel flinched—not from the slap, but from the truth of her words. His throat burned, his hands clenching around you as if he could keep you tethered to this world through sheer force of will.

Nesta’s eyes blazed as she pointed a shaking finger at him. “You better not ever think of hurting her like this again,” she hissed. “If you accept the bond, you better make damn sure you are certain about her, because I will not let you—will not—stand by and make her feel like she is not enough ever again.”

Azriel didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back. He just closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he swallowed the pain that was already threatening to consume him. He had already failed you. He had already been a coward.

He would not fail again.

Madja rushed in, her magic already radiating from her hands as she approached. “Put her down, now,” she ordered.

Azriel gently laid you onto the bed in the healing chamber, his hands shaking as he brushed the blood-matted hair from your face. His heart clenched at how pale you looked, at how fragile you seemed lying there.

Then, before Madja could begin her work, the door opened again, and Elain walked in.

She took in the scene—the blood, the tears, the sheer devastation on everyone’s faces—and gasped. “What’s happening?” she asked, her voice soft, confused. Her brown eyes flickered between Azriel and you, panic beginning to creep in.

And then she saw Azriel, saw the way his entire body was hunched toward you, how he held your hand as if it were the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

“Y/n,” she whispered, stepping toward him. “Azriel, I—” She didn’t hesitate before reaching for him, her delicate hands moving to wrap around his arms.

The moment her scent hit him, something inside him revolted.

The smell of her, once something he had found comforting, now made him physically sick.

It was wrong, all wrong.

It wasn’t you.

It wasn’t his mate.

Elain tried to pull him into an embrace, tried to offer comfort, but the very thought of anyone but you touching him made his stomach churn.

He jerked away, his wings flaring as he recoiled.

She gasped, stepping back in shock. “Azriel?”

Nesta’s patience snapped.

“Step away from her mate,” Nesta growled, her voice sharp and unrelenting.

Elain’s face went pale. “What?”

Feyre turned, wiping at her tears as she looked between Azriel and her sister. “Elain, now is not the time.”

But Elain just stared at Azriel, her lips parting as the realization sank in. “Y/N… is your mate?”

Azriel didn’t even look at her. His entire focus was on you, on the way your chest barely rose and fell, on the blood still staining your lips.

Elain let out a broken breath, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes. “But I thought—we had something special. I thought you wanted—”

“Are you serious right now?” Nesta snarled, rounding on her sister. “She’s dying, and all you can think about is yourself? Get the hell out, Elain.”

Elain flinched, her face twisting with hurt. “I—”

“Now!” Nesta roared.

Elain stumbled back, her lower lip trembling, before turning and running from the room, sobbing.

Azriel didn’t care.

He had nothing left in him to give her.

You were the only thing that mattered.

He sank onto the bed beside you, gripping your hand so tightly he was afraid he might break it. “Please, love,” he whispered, his voice raw with desperation. “Please stay with me. I can’t—” His breath hitched as a sob tore from him. “I can’t do this without you.”

Your lips parted slightly, a small, weak breath escaping. Azriel’s heart stopped.

“Y/N?” he whispered, brushing his fingers over your cheek, his hands trembling. “Stay with me. We have a future. A real one. Just give me a chance to make this right.”

Madja finished her healing magic, exhaling a deep breath before looking at him grimly. “I’ve done everything I can,” she said softly. “Now it’s up to her.”

Silence filled the room.

Azriel’s head bowed, his forehead pressing against your hand as he choked out another sob.

Feyre, Rhys, Cassian, and Nesta gathered around, their hands resting on his shoulders, offering him comfort he didn’t know how to accept.

His mate—the love of his life—was slipping through his fingers.

********

Azriel POV

The days stretched into a torturous blur, and still, you did not wake.

Azriel barely left your side. He sat by your bed in the House of Wind, your cold, lifeless hand clasped in his own, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in rhythmic desperation. Your breathing was faint, too shallow for his comfort. Your body, weak from the loss of blood, barely stirred.

He whispered to you constantly, his voice raw and broken. “Come back to me, love. Please. Just open your eyes. I swear I’ll make everything right if you just—just come back.”

But you remained still. Unmoving.

Madja had done all she could, her magic keeping you stable but unable to fully heal what was lost. The blood you had lost was simply too great. You weren’t getting worse, but you weren’t getting better either.

And that was when Rhys made the call.

********

The air in the House of Wind shifted as an icy wind swept through the halls, chilling everything in its wake. Even the usual warmth of Velaris seemed to bow beneath the presence that arrived.

Kallias, High Lord of the Winter Court, strode through the door, his white hair gleaming like fresh snow, his piercing blue eyes burning with fury. Viviane was at his side, her expression just as fierce, but beneath it all, there was deep sorrow as she took in your unmoving form on the bed.

The moment Kallias laid eyes on you, his face twisted with grief. “My niece,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He moved forward swiftly, brushing his cold fingers over your forehead. “This should never have happened.”

Then, his attention snapped to Rhys, his blue eyes blazing. “Why was she there, Rhysand? Why was she in Hewn City, alone, bleeding out on a gods-damned street?”

Rhys sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He had known this confrontation was coming. He gestured for Kallias to step aside, away from the bed, before answering.

“She asked to go,” Rhys said finally, his voice steady, though guilt lined every syllable. “She wanted the mission to be hers alone. She believed she was the best choice, and… she thought she had the least to lose.”

Kallias’s expression darkened, his lips curling back slightly. “The least to lose?” he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief and rage. His gaze flicked to Azriel, who was still sitting by your side, his head bowed, his grip on your hand never loosening.

Kallias turned back to Rhys, his voice colder than a frozen tundra. “And what, exactly, made her believe that?”

Rhys hesitated only a moment before speaking the truth. “She thought she didn’t matter. She thought she was expendable.”

Viviane gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

Kallias clenched his fists, his power crackling through the room like a blizzard. “She is not expendable,” he snarled. His gaze darted back to you, his fury warring with his grief. “She is my family. She is precious to me. And to send her into that filth alone—” His voice broke, just slightly, before he turned on Azriel with a burning, furious glare.

Azriel barely moved.

He heard every word, felt every ounce of the anger directed at him, but nothing could be worse than the pain already consuming him.

Kallias stalked toward him, stopping just at the edge of the bed. His presence was as cold as death, but Azriel finally lifted his head, meeting the Winter High Lord’s piercing gaze.

“If you do not love her,” Kallias said, his voice dangerously quiet, “then let her go. Let her return to the Winter Court, where she will be cherished—where she will be protected and never feel expendable again.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened. “I do love her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with conviction. “I love her more than anything.”

Kallias’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t act like it.”

Azriel swallowed hard, his wings tensing behind him. “I was a fool,” he admitted. “I didn’t see what was right in front of me. I let her walk away believing I didn’t care—believing I chose another. And I will never forgive myself for that.”

He looked back down at you, his heart clenching painfully at how still you remained. His voice wavered as he continued, “But if she wakes up… If she still wants me after everything I put her through, then I will spend every single day proving to her that she is everything to me.”

Silence stretched in the room.

Finally, Kallias let out a slow breath, though his expression remained sharp. “After everything, you don’t deserve her.”

Azriel flinched.

Kallias’s icy gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at you again. “But if she chooses you, I will respect the bond. I will support it. But hear me, Shadowsinger—my niece is precious to me. And if you ever make her feel like she is anything less than the treasure she is, I will make sure you regret it.”

Azriel nodded once, solemnly. “I would expect nothing less.”

Kallias turned to Madja then, his voice softer but still commanding. “What needs to be done?”

Madja hesitated before speaking. “She needs blood. A transfusion. You’re the best match.”

Kallias didn’t even hesitate. “Do it.”

The procedure was delicate, and Azriel watched with excruciating patience as Madja worked, as Kallias willingly gave his blood to you, as the minutes stretched into agonizing hours.

Azriel never left your side. He held your hand through it all, whispering to you, pleading with you.

"Come back to me, love," he murmured. "Please. I have so many things I need to tell you, so many things I should have said sooner. Just… just wake up."

Rhys and Feyre sat close, their eyes heavy with worry. Nesta paced, arms crossed, her face a mask of fury and grief. Cassian sat still, his jaw tight, his hands clenched so hard they shook.

And then, after what felt like an eternity—

Your fingers twitched.

Azriel's breath hitched. His shadows recoiled in shock. "Y/N?"

********

Y/n POV

A pained groan escaped my lips. My eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, but alive.

The warmth of consciousness was a slow, heavy thing, dragging me back from the abyss with each careful breath. Every inch of my body ached, the weight of my injuries pressing down on me like an immovable force. But as the haze lifted, the first thing I saw wasn’t the House of Wind or the worried faces of the Inner Circle.

It was them.

My aunt and uncle.

Two of the people I loved most in this world.

Kallias and Viviane were standing at the edge of my bed, their eyes shining with a mix of love and overwhelming relief. Viviane was the first to move, tears spilling freely down her cheeks as she rushed to my side, gathering me into the gentlest embrace.

“Oh, my love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “You scared us.”

The moment her arms wrapped around me, the dam broke. Tears welled in my eyes, slipping silently down my face as I buried my head against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, auntie” I choked, gripping onto her like she was the only thing anchoring me to this world. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Hush,” Viviane murmured, running a hand through my hair the way she used to when I was young. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. We just… we love you so much, little one.”

Kallias, always so composed, stepped forward and crushed me into his arms the moment Viviane pulled away.

He was shaking.

The High Lord of Winter, shaking.

“You’re so precious to me,” he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with unspoken grief. “Do you understand that? You matter to me, to us. I don’t care what anyone has made you think. You are everything to us.”

That only made the tears fall harder. I clung to him, gripping the back of his heavy winter cloak as a broken sob escaped my lips. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much. I missed you—both of you—so much.”

Viviane wrapped her arms around both of us, her presence warm, steady. “Then come home,” she whispered against my temple. “When you’re better, when you’ve healed, come home.”

My body stilled, though the warmth of their embrace didn’t waver. Slowly, Kallias pulled back just enough to cup my face in his cold hands, his blue eyes so full of devotion it nearly shattered me. “Say the word,” he murmured, his voice fierce with love. “And I will come back for you. When you’re fully healed, if you want to return to Winter, you need only ask.”

I swallowed hard, my throat raw, as I looked between them. There was so much love in their eyes, so much warmth despite the ice in their veins. For so long, I had convinced myself that I didn’t belong anywhere. That I was simply an extra piece in a world that had already found its balance. But here they were, reminding me that there was a place waiting for me—a home—if I wanted it.

Viviane squeezed my hand, her touch gentle. “Whatever you decide, whatever you want, we are always here for you, little one. Always.”

I nodded, sniffling as I whispered, “I’ll consider it. Once I’m healed… I’ll think about it.”

The words were soft, barely there. But they carried enough weight to make the room shift.

Because he was still in the room.

Azriel hadn’t said a word since I’d woken. He had been sitting beside me the whole time, gripping my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as if grounding himself in the fact that I was still breathing. But now, as the promise of leaving fell from my lips, his fingers stiffened.

I turned slightly, my bleary eyes landing on him.

He looked wrecked.

His shadows were sluggish around him, his face paler than I had ever seen it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t breathed since the moment he had pulled me out of the Hewn City.

And yet, the moment I said I’d consider leaving, something inside him seemed to break.

His hand twitched against mine, and slowly, almost hesitantly, he let go.

My fingers burned from the absence.

I didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to process the devastation in his hazel eyes, the way his shoulders curled inward like he had been expecting this all along.

The truth was, as far as I knew, he still loved Elain. I had told him—told him—to go back to her, to be happy. I had seen the way he looked at her before, how he had spent his time with her while I faded into the background.

Even if he had saved me.

Even if he had whispered to me in the darkness, had begged me to stay—what did that mean?

Was it guilt?

Or something more?

I couldn’t let myself hope.

Only to have those hopes crushed.

So I looked away, focusing on Kallias as I wiped at my tears. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice small. “For everything.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering there for a long moment before pulling back. “Just heal, little one,” he whispered. “That’s all we ask.”

Azriel stood abruptly.

Everyone turned.

His jaw was tight, his wings twitching as he exhaled sharply. His voice, when he spoke, was controlled, but there was something fractured in it. “I should give you time with your family.”

He was retreating.

He was leaving.

And gods help me, I have the strength to stop him.

Kallias watched him, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. Then, without warning, he stepped forward, forcing Azriel to meet his gaze. “Shadowsinger,” he said quietly, his voice laced with warning.

“If she chooses you,” Kallias continued, his voice deadly calm, “I will not stand in the way. But you do not deserve her. And if you ever make her feel this way again, you will have more than just trouble with me.”

Azriel swallowed, his voice breaking. “I won’t.”

Kallias exhaled, his face unreadable. Then, he stepped back.

The air in the room was thick, heavy.

And for the first time since I woke up, Azriel turned and walked out the door.

And I let him go.

********

Y/n POV

Each day, the pain lessened. Each day, the weight in my chest lightened just a fraction. The bruises faded, the deep gashes stitched by Madja’s careful hands began to heal, and the bone-deep exhaustion loosened its grip.

But Azriel never came.

At first, I thought it was because I was slipping in and out of consciousness, too hazy from healing magic and exhaustion to truly register his presence. But as days stretched into a week, and he still hadn’t stepped foot in my room, the truth settled in.

He had left.

Rhys and Feyre visited often, bringing warm smiles and soft reassurances. Cassian came in every other day, loudly declaring that my near-death experience had shaved years off his immortal life, and that he’d never forgive me if I ever pulled something like that again.

But it was Nesta who stayed.

She was there every morning with a pile of romance books tucked under her arm, rolling her eyes at my amused expression before settling into the chair beside my bed. “Shut up and let me read to you,” she’d grumble, but there was always a glimmer of warmth in her blue-gray eyes.

She read to me in a steady, even voice, spinning tales of impossible love, of fated mates who found their way back to one another despite every obstacle.

I tried not to think about my mate.

The words Kallias had spoken to Azriel replayed in my head over and over again.

If you truly do not love her, let her go.

Azriel had said he did love me.

But was that real?

Or was it just the bond speaking?

Had I only dreamed it?

The days I’d spent delirious, slipping in and out of wakefulness, had blurred everything together.

Had I only imagined the way Azriel held my hand, the way he whispered to me, Come back to me, love. Please, I can’t do this without you.

Had I imagined the way he had looked at me in that moment before leaving?

The devastation in his eyes when I told Kallias I would consider returning to Winter?

Was it real?

Or was it just another fantasy, a cruel trick of my mind?

I tried not to let the doubt consume me, but it curled around my heart anyway, sinking its claws into me like poison.

Finally, after days of torturous silence, I couldn’t take it anymore.

One afternoon, as Nesta flipped lazily through another book, I turned my head to her and asked the question that had been gnawing at me.

“Where’s Azriel?”

Nesta didn’t answer right away. She shut the book, her fingers smoothing over the worn cover before she exhaled through her nose. “Hunting,” she said simply.

I frowned. “Hunting?”

She nodded. “He’s been in the Hewn City. Finishing what you started.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

Nesta met my gaze, her expression unreadable. “After he brought you back, after Madja did everything she could… Azriel left. Rhys sent him to take down the rest of Keir’s men—the ones who put out the kill order on you.” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “He didn’t want you to know. He thought you’d worry.”

My breath hitched.

Azriel had gone back.

He was still fighting for me, for my safety.

And yet, he hadn’t come back to see me.

Something in my chest tightened painfully. “Oh.”

Nesta studied me for a moment before continuing. “That’s not all.”

I swallowed hard. “What else?”

“Elain,” she said simply.

The name alone sent a fresh wave of confusion through me. I had thought… I had thought she was the reason he stayed away.

That he loved her.

Nesta smirked at my expression, shaking her head. “She had a bit of an… outburst while you were unconscious.”

I blinked. “What?”

Nesta tilted her head, as if deciding how much to share, before finally relenting. “When she saw how Azriel was with you, how he wouldn’t leave your side, how he broke for you… She didn’t take it well.” A flicker of amusement flashed in her eyes before she sobered. “She thought they had something special. That he was choosing her.”

My heart clenched painfully. “And was he?”

Nesta scoffed. “No.”

I swallowed again, feeling my pulse quicken. “But I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Nesta interrupted, leveling me with a look. “He loved the idea of Elain. He thought that’s how it was supposed to be—three brothers for three sisters. He convinced himself that was what he wanted. But it was never real.”

My breath hitched, my chest suddenly aching. “And me?”

Nesta’s expression softened just slightly. “You,” she said, “were always the real thing. He loved you all along. He just didn’t realize it until it was almost too late.”

My lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Azriel had loved me?

He had always loved me?

Tears pricked my eyes as a wave of emotion threatened to pull me under.

“I thought… I thought he loved her,” I admitted quietly.

Nesta reached over, squeezing my hand tightly. “No,” she said firmly. “He loved you. And you need to stop doubting that.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“The last time Rhys heard from him, he was tracking the last of Keir’s men. The one who gave the final order on you.” Nesta’s blue-gray eyes darkened. “He should be home within a day or so.”

A sharp exhale left my lips.

Azriel was coming back.

Would he come see me?

Would he finally tell me what he felt?

Or would he keep his distance?

Would he let me slip through his fingers again?

Nesta squeezed your hand again, drawing me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Listen to me,” she said softly. “You matter. You always have. And you better tell me the next time you’re feeling expendable, because I will remind you just how much you mean to all of us.”

A lump formed in my throat as I whispered, “I love you, friend.”

Nesta smiled—actually smiled—and pulled me into a careful embrace. “I love you too,” she murmured.

For the first time in days, the weight pressing down on my chest eased.

But as Nesta pulled away, as she returned to her seat and opened her book again, my thoughts drifted back to one person.

Azriel.

He was out there, finishing what I had started, avenging me in the way only he could.

And he would be home soon.

Would he come back to me?

Or would he let me go?

********

Y/n POV

The training ring at the House of Wind had never felt so daunting. Once, I had sparred here effortlessly, my body moving with precision and control. Now, every step felt heavier, every movement a reminder of what I had endured.

Cassian stood beside me, his usual cocky grin softened by something quieter—something like understanding. His hands were on his hips, watching as I took another shaky step forward, my legs trembling under the strain.

"You're doing good, kid," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

I let out a dry laugh, wiping sweat from my brow. "I'm barely standing."

"Hey, considering you nearly died, I’d say that’s pretty damn impressive," he teased, but his eyes—hazel and sharp—studied me carefully, making sure I weren’t pushing myself too hard.

I sighed, gripping the wooden staff for balance as I sat on the bench beside him. The physical therapy was grueling, but necessary. I had lost so much strength, my body still recovering from the blood loss and trauma.

Cassian settled beside me, his wings stretching before folding neatly behind him. For a long moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the mountains.

Then, he finally spoke. “So… how do you feel about Azriel?”

My breath hitched, caught off guard. I turned to glare at him, but Cassian only offered me an easy smirk, though there was something intentional behind the question.

“Really, Cass?” I muttered, staring down at my hands.

He nudged my shoulder gently. “Come on, talk to me. I know there’s a lot you’re keeping bottled up.”

I exhaled slowly, gripping the staff tighter. “I’ve always loved him,” I admitted softly. “For as long as I can remember.”

Cassian didn’t speak, just listened, his presence steady beside me.

I swallowed hard, staring at the empty ring before me. “But he never saw me,” I whispered. “He was always looking at someone else. And after a while, I just… gave up.”

Cassian nodded slowly, waiting for me to continue.

“I forced myself to be content loving him from afar, being his friend, standing by his side even when it hurt.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “But then I lost that too. When he pulled away, when he stopped coming to me and started spending time with Elain instead, it gutted me.”

Cassian sighed, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

I turned to him, searching his face, and realized that he did understand. Because he had watched Nesta pull away from him for so long, had suffered under the weight of loving someone who wasn’t ready to love him back.

I shook me head, voice trembling as I said, “He never recognized the bond, Cass. And I don’t want him to choose me just because some ancient force says he should.”

Cassian’s gaze was steady as he said, “You want him to want you for you. To love you for you. Not because fate tied you together.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “Exactly.”

Cassian was quiet for a long moment, then finally said, “I think he loved you all along. He just couldn’t see it for himself.”

I scoffed, rubbing my hands over my face. “Nesta said the same thing.”

Cassian grinned. “Well, then you know it’s true. She’s never wrong, and I value my life too much to argue with her.”

That made me chuckle, a real, genuine laugh that Cassian smiled at.

Then, after a moment, he sobered. “Will you go back to Winter?”

I exhaled heavily. “I don’t know yet.”

Cassian studied me carefully, then nudged my shoulder again. “Just promise me one thing.”

I turned to him.

“Hear him out when he comes back,” he said seriously. “Before you make your decision. Give him a chance to tell you what he should have said a long time ago.”

I hesitated, chewing my lip, before nodding slowly. “Okay. I promise.”

Cassian grinned, ruffling my hair like a big brother. “Good. Because if you go back to Winter, who the hell is gonna be around to kick my ass in the ring?”

I smirked, rolling my eyes. “Your mate will always be around to do that.”

Cassian groaned dramatically. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. Nesta fights to kill, and you fight to prove a point.”

I laughed again, feeling lighter than I had in days.

Cassian slung an arm around my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “We love you, you know that, right?”

I smiled, leaning into his warmth for just a moment. “Yeah,” I murmured. “I know. And I love you all, too.”

But as I sat there, as the wind rushed through the mountains, one thought lingered in your mind.

Azriel was coming home.

And soon, I would have to face him—and the truth I wasn't sure I were ready to hear.

********

The air was crisp as I stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, overlooking Velaris, the city bathed in the golden hues of twilight. The wind tugged gently at my hair, carrying the distant sounds of laughter from below, the heartbeat of the city still steady, still thriving—just as it had been before you almost died.

I crossed my arms over my chest, exhaling deeply, steadying myself.

Azriel was coming home today.

I had spent days preparing for this moment, rehearsing what I might say, bracing myself for whatever truth he might reveal.

But nothing could have prepared me for the way he appeared before me.

The soft whoosh of wings filled the air behind me, followed by the quiet but unmistakable thud of boots landing on stone. I turned slowly, and the breath caught in my throat.

Azriel stood before me, still clad in his leathers, but they were torn in places, stained red. His hands, his arms—covered in blood. It splattered across his chest, streaked down his fingers, still wet in some places. His face was exhausted, his golden eyes dark with something unreadable.

But the moment he saw me standing there—awake, breathing, alive—the tension in his shoulders sagged just slightly.

“You’re up,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something I couldn’t name. He took a cautious step forward, then stopped himself, hesitating. His hands curled into fists, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to reach for me.

My eyes flickered over him, concern washing over me despite everything. “Azriel,” I said, stepping forward. “Are you injured?”

He shook his head quickly. “No,” he said. “This isn’t my blood.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Then whose?”

He hesitated, looking down at his hands as if he were just now realizing the mess he was in. His throat bobbed before he looked back at me. “It’s over,” he said simply. “The ones who put the kill order on you… they’re dead.”

My breath hitched slightly. I searched his face, the dark, tired shadows beneath his eyes, the weight of something heavier clinging to him. “I heard you went to Hewn City,” I murmured, more of a statement than a question.

Surprise flickered across his face. “How do you know that?”

“Nesta,” I said softly. “She told me.” I tilted my head, studying him carefully. “Why did you go?”

Azriel was quiet for a long moment before he took a step closer. “Because I couldn’t live in a world where the men who put a kill order on my mate were still breathing.”

His voice was raw, edged with something unbreakable, and my stomach twisted at his words—at the depth of them.

Azriel exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his bloodied hand across his jaw. “How are you feeling?”

I gave him a small, hollow smile. “Physically or emotionally?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Let’s start with physically.”

I nodded, glancing down at my hands. “I’m almost back to myself again,”I said, keeping my voice even. “Nesta kept me company. Cassian made sure I did some kind of physical therapy, but Madja hasn’t cleared me for full training yet.”

He gave a small nod, absorbing my words. Then, he hesitated before asking, “And emotionally?”

I looked at him then, really looked at him.

“You want the whole truth?” I asked.

Azriel’s eyes softened, and he took another hesitant step closer. “Always.”

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. “I have loved you for many, many years, Azriel,” I admitted, my voice steady despite the way my heart clenched. “The bond snapped for me a long time ago.”

His entire body stiffened.

“I wanted to tell you,” I continued, voice quiet but unwavering. “So many times. But you were always looking at someone else. First it was Mor, then Elain. And I couldn’t fault you for it. They’re both beautiful, kind people. With Elain… you were just being you. Thoughtful, devoted, gentle. You made her feel safe.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, forcing myself to keep going. “I knew you didn’t see me that way, so I forced myself to be content with loving you from afar. To just be your best friend, to stand beside you even when it hurt. But then… then I started losing that too. You pulled away. You stopped coming to me. And that—” My voice cracked slightly, but I pushed through. “That gutted me.”

Azriel’s face twisted, his hands shaking slightly at his sides. “I never meant—”

“I know,” I cut in gently, shaking my head. “But it still happened.”

A thick silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. Then, softly, I said, “I just want you to be happy, Azriel.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

“I understand if you want to be with Elain,” I continued, my chest tightening painfully. “If I were you, I’d probably choose her too.”

Azriel visibly flinched.

His entire body went rigid, his brows drawing together in something like shock. “Why would you say that?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

I exhaled shakily, looking away. “Because she’s beautiful,” I whispered. “She’s gentle, sweet. Everything I’m not.”

Silence.

A long, deafening silence.

Then, Azriel’s voice, barely above a whisper. “You think that’s why I would choose her?”

I shrugged one shoulder, trying to keep my composure. “Isn’t it?”

Azriel took another step forward, his hands flexing at his sides. His golden eyes were haunted, filled with something so deep, so raw, that it made my breath catch.

“I felt the bond snap for you,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “That night, in Rhys’s office. I knew the moment it happened. I watched you walk away.”

Azriel's lips parted slightly, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

“And I realized then,” I continued softly, “that I simply wasn’t enough.”

His breathing turned uneven, his hands tightening into fists.

“So I left,” I said, a sad smile pulling at my lips. “I went on that mission because I wanted to protect all of you. I knew attacks were being planned against the Night Court, and I couldn’t let anything happen to the people I love. To you.” My voice wavered. “I went because I knew I probably wouldn’t make it back.”

Azriel looked wrecked.

“You don’t have to want this bond,” I continued, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I understand if you don’t. And I will be okay. I have a home in Winter Court, a family who loves me. If you don’t want me, I can go. And you can be with Elain, without any awkwardness between us.”

The moment the last words left my lips, Azriel moved.

He crossed the balcony in three swift, purposeful strides. Before I could even take a breath, his hands were on me—one cupping my face with a gentleness that contradicted the raw intensity burning in his golden eyes, the other sliding into my hair at the nape of my neck, his fingers curling there as if anchoring himself to me.

And then his lips crashed against mine.

The force of the kiss stole the air from my lungs, my heart pounding as his mouth claimed mine in a way that left no room for doubt, no space for hesitation. His lips were soft but demanding, the kiss starting slow, deep, as if he were savoring the moment. Then—when I parted my lips for him—his tongue slid against mine, coaxing, claiming, until his possessiveness bled into every movement.

I melted into him, gripping the front of his leathers to steady myself, as if he were the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

He pulled back just slightly, enough to let me breathe, but not enough to create space between us. His forehead rested against mine, his golden eyes searching mine as his thumb traced over my swollen lower lip. His gaze flickered from my lips back up to my eyes, dark with emotion.

His voice was thick, rough, when he finally spoke.

"Does that feel like I want to reject the bond I have with you—" he inhaled sharply, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, his touch reverent, "with my beautiful, precious mate?"

My breath caught, my throat tightening as I slowly shook my head.

“No,” I whispered.

Azriel’s eyes flashed with something raw, something vulnerable, before he surged forward again, capturing my lips in another deep, soul-stealing kiss. This one was slower, aching with meaning, as if he were pouring everything he couldn’t say into the way his lips moved against mine.

When he finally pulled away, his hands framed my face, keeping me close as his thumb stroked my cheek. His wings curled slightly around the two of us, a subconscious need to shield me from the rest of the world.

He exhaled shakily, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have been a fool.”

I didn’t say anything, letting him continue, his hands still holding me as if he was afraid I’d slip away.

“I bought into the idea of three sisters for three brothers because it made sense. Because it was easy.” He swallowed, his jaw tightening. “But only when I began doing the things with Elain that I used to do with you… everything felt hollow.” His brows furrowed, his eyes shining with something like regret. “It felt wrong.”

My chest ached at his words, but I didn’t interrupt.

He let out a ragged breath. “I missed your smile, your laugh, the way you would always know when I needed someone to pull me out of my dark thoughts, and when I just needed someone there, silent but steady. No one has ever known me the way you do. No one could ever replace that.”

His voice broke slightly as he whispered, “And I was too blind to see it.”

I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling sharply. “Azriel…”

He shook his head. “No. Let me say this.” He exhaled deeply, collecting himself. “I knew I didn’t love Elain. I tried to, I think, because it was what everyone expected. But every moment with her felt like a lie.” His fingers curled slightly against my skin. “It was always you.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away, searching his face for any trace of hesitation, any sign that he wasn’t certain.

But all I found was unwavering truth.

My hands clenched against his leathers. “Do you remember what you said to me that day?” I asked softly.

Azriel flinched, as if struck.

He knew exactly what I meant.

His throat bobbed as he closed his eyes briefly before forcing himself to meet my gaze. “I remember,” he said hoarsely. “And it is the biggest regret of my life.”

I swallowed thickly, my voice shaking. “You told me I didn’t know what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back.” A bitter, broken laugh escaped me. “But I do know what it feels like to love someone, Azriel. I have always known.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “Because I have always loved you.”

His face twisted in pain, tears now brimming in his own golden eyes. “I know,” he rasped, his hands tightening on me.

“And maybe,” I whispered, voice cracking, “maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be loved back. But I always hoped—” My voice broke completely. “I always hoped that one day, you would see me.”

Azriel’s breath caught, and then, to my shock, a tear slipped down his cheek.

And then another.

My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him—Azriel, the mighty shadowsinger, the unshakable warrior—with tears rolling down his face.

His hands trembled slightly as he cupped my face more firmly, tilting my chin up so I couldn’t look away. His next words were spoken so softly, yet they carried the weight of everything he had never said.

“You don’t have to feel that way anymore,” he whispered. “Because I do love you back.”

The world spun as my brain tried to register what he just said.

Azriel swallowed hard, his golden eyes fierce, desperate. “Not because of some stupid, ancient force that tells me I should. Not because of a bond that tied us together without our choice.” He shook his head, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “But because of you.”

My chest tightened, tears slipping silently down my face now, too.

“Because I love the way you challenge me,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I love the way you see me, the way you’ve always known when to pull me into the light and when to just be there. I love the way you fight, the way you care so deeply for everyone around you—even when you think no one sees it.” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I love you.”

His lips ghosted over my forehead, lingering there as if he could somehow convey everything through that simple touch.

“I was blind,” he admitted softly. “But never again.”

Azriel’s hands trembled as they cupped my face, his golden eyes desperate, pleading. His breath came unevenly, his chest rising and falling as if he were on the edge of breaking all over again.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice rough, raw. “Don’t go back to the Winter Court.”

My heart thudded painfully against my ribs.

“I know I don’t deserve to ask this of you, not after everything. But please—please don’t leave.” His voice cracked, his eyes searching mine, vulnerable in a way I had never seen before.

“Azriel…”

“Give us a chance,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my lower lip, his gaze flickering between my eyes and my mouth. “Let me show you. Let me prove to you every single day how much I love you. Let me show you what it feels like to be loved back the way you deserve—to be cherished, adored, worshiped.” His voice broke slightly on the last word, as if he couldn’t fathom how he had gone so long without making me feel all those things before.

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want the bond with you. I want everything with you. Your heart, your mind, your body, your soul...your future.” He swallowed hard, his wings trembling at his back. “Please tell me I haven’t lost you. Please tell me I’m not too late.”

Tears filled my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from heartbreak. I smiled softly, reaching up to brush away the wet tracks of his tears with my thumbs. “You’re not too late, Az.”

A broken sound escaped his throat, something between a sob and a breathless laugh, before his lips crashed into mine again. This kiss was different—desperate, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of me, as if he needed to remind himself that I was real.

That I was his.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, his fingers still curled tightly into my hair.

I suddenly remembered the weight in my pocket and pulled back slightly, reaching into it with a small grin. “Oh,” I murmured, holding up the item. “I almost forgot.”

Azriel blinked at me, his brows furrowing as he glanced down at my hand.

Then his eyes widened.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

I laughed, holding up the slightly crumbled cookie.

His favorite.

Chocolate chip.

“Well, I didn’t have time to cook, so this will have to do.”

Azriel let out a genuine, full laugh, something so warm and light that it made my chest ache. His crooked grin was wide, breathtaking, as he immediately snatched the cookie from my grasp.

I barely had time to react before he was removing the paper and shoving the entire thing into his mouth in one bite.

I burst into laughter, shaking my head. “You could have at least savored it, you know.”

Azriel chewed quickly, his eyes shining as he swallowed.

“Nope,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t risking you taking it back.”

I rolled my eyes, still laughing, but as I gazed at him—his golden eyes so full of warmth, the ease of his smile, the lightness in his expression—I realized something.

I finally had him.

He was mine.

The thought barely had time to settle in before Azriel was on me again. He grabbed me by the waist, yanking me against him, his mouth descending onto mine in another deep, possessive kiss. His hands roamed down my back, pulling me closer, until there was no space left between us.

When he pulled back, his voice was husky, dark with promise.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against my lips. “And I will never let you go again.”

Before I could reply, he scooped me up effortlessly into his arms, his wings flaring as he carried me inside. I let out a small gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Azriel—”

His gaze burned as he looked down at me. “I need to claim you,” he growled. “In every way.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach at his words, my entire body shivering with anticipation as he carried me through the House, past the endless hallways, and into his room.

The moment the door closed behind him, his lips were back on mine. His kisses were demanding, devouring, his hands sliding beneath my shirt, exploring every inch of my skin as if he were trying to memorize every curve.

And then he was laying me down on his bed, covering my body with his, his hands trembling slightly as he touched me.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed kisses down my jaw, down my neck, across my collarbone. “And I am yours.”

The night was filled with whispered confessions, with gasps and moans and soft, desperate pleas.

He made love to me over and over, burying himself so deeply inside me that I didn’t know where he ended and I began.

He showed me what it meant to be loved back by someone.

And when the sun began to rise, when exhaustion finally pulled me under, I felt Azriel wrap his arms around me, drawing me close against his chest.

His lips brushed against my temple as he whispered into my hair, his voice raw, reverent.

“I love you, baby.”

And as sleep took me, I knew—

I was loved.

Truly loved.

********

Thank you for all of you who stuck with me for this alternate HAPPIER ending! I hope it met your expectations and brought some light into your day!

[phantomyre]

Before Vincent could prevent Lucrecia from touching Sephiroth, the silver-headed male deflected as though he had been touched by a burning torch. It was painful to behold, yet it wasn’t surprising to the gunslinger. Lucrecia flinched painfully when Sephiroth pulled away from her, simultaneously shocked by Jenova’s invasive thoughts. This caused Lucrecia to cry out and drop to her knees, gripping her head, the tears resuming their stream. Vincent immediately joined her side and held her close to his chest.

It was no use… “Sephiroth…” Lucrecia’s trembling voice was hardly anything more than a whisper as she buried her face against Vincent’s cloak, her tears staining the red velvet garment. Any hope she might have had to rejoin with her son had faded, and Vincent could feel it in her voice. “Lucrecia,” The gunslinger whispered, an equal amount of despondency in his own voice. “I shouldn’t have… perhaps I was wrong to…” The mournful mother trembled, but she managed to lift her head and look up at Vincent. She shook her head and seemed to realize how she had pushed Vincent away the entire time ever since Sephiroth had appeared. He chilled trembling fingers lifted and caressed Vincent’s face, aiding him to look at her. “N-no… no. Don’t be. You’ve done more for me than anyone. This…” She slowly turned to look towards Sephiroth, the painful knot in her throat swelling up, but she swallowed it back with much effort. To hear her own son tell to not touch him, and to treat her like some sort of disease… she understood. “…This was all my doing,” Lucrecia finished, her eyes directed at Sephiroth as she spoke to Vincent. “I’m the one who…” The words of Jenova once again rang in her head. Your every move… only damages him further. Tears poured down silently down both her cheeks. It was all true. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened. She knew he had been bred and raised to own a mighty power. At the time, she had thought Jenova to be an ancient, but as her time at Shinra came to a close, she realized who the alien was and what her son would become. And there stood the product of her choice—a weapon who would be wielded against the planet. Vincent had been kept in the dark. He had tried to stop her, but she had not only closed her ears to his pleas, but also chose to disregard the well-being of her child for the sake of science. This was her reward for her crimes. Bereft of a child she didn’t deserve… and one who would never see her anything but a monster. Lucrecia’s thoughts were once again diverted towards her son; her ears ever keen to his movements and his voice. His request made her fall silent. Though Vincent knew her asking Sephiroth was an invitation for issues, he was surprised to see her face looking as though she were weighing Sephiroth’s wish. The gunslinger searched Lucrecia’s face and gripped her shoulders as if to gently bring her back to reality. But he was once again ignored, and Lucrecia slowly stood up, Vincent following her movement as he too stood up, eyes locked upon the back of her head as she faced Sephiroth. “Sephiroth,” Lucrecia’s voice softened, this time keeping a respectful distance from him, letting him know she wouldn’t attempt to get close again. “…I understand. The people have wronged you. And this world sees you as a monster.” She lowered her head, her hands clasped over her chest as she continued softly. “You want closure… an end for those responsible for your suffering.” A tightness seemed to take hold of Vincent’s chest when he sensed what she was doing. “…I may not be able to fulfill all of your wish, and I know I cannot mend your heart. But…” She stood up straight, slowly holding her hands up towards him as if she were gifting him something in her hand. She then slowly opened her arms wide, the cold breeze flowing through her silk dress and soft tresses. “But if it will give you any sort of peace… I’m here for you.” Vincent’s eyes widened in horror. “Lucrecia?!”

Distraught, Vincent could only watch as Lucrecia fought Jenova in her head. It felt like the same nightmare playing in front of him. The only difference was there really wasn’t anything he could do to spare Lucrecia from Jenova. His words had gone unheeded, and while she fought the alien, Vincent tried to maintain whatever was going on with Sephiroth as well. He could tell Sephiroth’s patience was running thin, but he also detected that hopeful curiosity. It was now or never. But it was all up to Lucrecia, now.

Try as she might, Lucrecia couldn’t ignore the voice in her head. “I was wrong… horribly wrong,” The sorrow-filled woman shuddered at Jenova’s words, feeling every jab like a dagger to the heart. “I didn’t know that I would… I never wanted to hurt anyone. I wanted him to be happy, and be a part of the powerful people of Cetra. But I…” Vincent glared, having never heard Lucrecia’s confession in such a manner, but knowing it all to be true. He had witnessed everything and how she had spurned his warning. Nevertheless, he wasn’t guiltless either. There within the cave stood two individuals who could have spared Sephiroth’s life—the only ones who had some humanity, knowing right from wrong—Lucrecia and Vincent. Hojo was beyond deranged, and any bit of humanity in him was reserved for himself and no one else. Sephiroth had every right to not trust either of them. And at this rate, Vincent knew Lucrecia’s cries were falling on deaf ears. As Lucrecia began to explain the past to Sephiroth, Vincent watched Sephiroth’s expression with keen interest, marking anything he said or did. Though Sephiroth gave little visual queues, Vincent knew the silver-head’s mind was reeling. “I tried, Sephiroth… I truly did,” Lucrecia practically begged, not knowing how else to tell Sephiroth the dire situation that had forced her from him. “They wouldn’t let me anywhere near you.” She tensed her fists and looked away, a mixture of frustration and agony written all over her face and in her voice. When Sephiroth made mention of ending his life, her eyes widened and she turned looked up at Sephiroth, her eyes filled with sympathy and sorrow. He desired death… her beautiful son… It tore her heart to pieces. Tears streamed down her face. “Sephiroth…” Her motherly instincts could no longer be contained, and she pulled herself from Vincent’s grip, leaving him dumb-founded and worried for her safety. Her child was suffering. He had been suffering for too long. And even if every logic told her it was far too late, she didn’t care. She stopped just within arms reach of Sephiroth and looked up at her son, seeing no one but him. “…I knew there was no way to spare you, Sephiroth. Not only had they kept you out of my reach, but the Jenova cells—they…” She choked back as she continued to answer Sephiroth. “They wouldn’t allow you to die, and neither would they let me. But how could I kill an innocent child? I thought perhaps I would run away with you, but they took you from me.” She looked away from Sephiroth, trying to calm herself and restrain herself from hugging him. “Sephiroth…” She slowly turned her eyes up to him again, tenderness in her glittering pair of hazel colors. For several moments, she simply looked at him, admiring him with a motherly interest. Slowly, her soft hand reached up and caressed Sephiroth’s face, her touch warm and tender. “…You’ve suffered enough because of me.” Vincent watched intensely, torn between pulling her from Sephiroth and allowing her the moment she had dreamed of. What terrified him the most was the shift in her voice. There was a strange sense of resolve; the fear, the sorrow… it had melted away the moment she had chosen to step forward. “Lucrecia…?” “…What do you wish for the most, Sephiroth?” Lucrecia continued to speak. “Whatever I can do to ease your pain… I’m here for you.” The implications made Vincent’s heart stop. “The hell are you saying?” But he knew what she meant.

[leyavo]

⛓️‍💥| Out on your own |

Part Task Force 141 x Tech!reader

Summary: After Graves relieves Ghost and Soap from their shared mission, Jinx is left to fend for herself in the Fuerzas Especiales facility against the shadows. (Loosely based on the mw2 video game, ghost team mission)

Featuring: Graves, Soap, Ghost and Jinx (tech!reader). Graves and Jinx have history.

[Masterlist] < more tech!reader there

The glowing flickers of monitor screens, lit the dingy room. A desk pushed against the wall, surveillance and the whirring of computers filling the silence.

No natural light entering the small room. Jinx felt like she’d be digging her own grave, the one person she’d tried to dodge now stared down at her.

“Look at you, got yourself a name and everything,” Graves said, his arms crossed over his chest as he leant on the edge of the desk. His finger resting close to the trigger of his gun. “How’s that bad luck treating you Jinx?”

Luck, had never been on Jinx’s side since she was a kid. In the back of her mind, she knew that no one would come and save her, not if they knew the truth. Not if they knew where she’d come from or what she’d done.

The cuffs around Jinx’s wrists bit into her flesh, both secured to the arm rest. Her ankles tied to the chair legs, thankfully the bag over her head had been removed.

A hand twisted in her hair and forced her to look up at Graves, scalp tingling and neck aching.

Graves flicked out his dagger, blade tracing the column of Jinx’s throat and the line of a scar curving from her right ear and down to the collar of her T-shirt.

“Didn’t think I’d recognise you? Huh,” he said, adding pressure against her throat. “I’ve always been watching you, in the shadows. Someone with your set of skills would be valuable to this organisation.”

Valuable, Jinx knew that information lead to currency and safety. The more she learnt, the more they kept her around and valued her. Warmth trickled down her neck, another inch added to the old scar.

“Maybe this is your lucky day, Jinx. What do you say?” Graves leant forward, lifting the blade away.

Jinx spat, a thick blob of her saliva rolling down Graves’s jaw. The back of his hand connected with her cheek, her vision tilting as she and the chair fell to the side. Her shoulder smashing into the concrete floor, a puddle of water soaking her shirt.

“Now that wasn’t very nice was it,” he said, nodding for the man behind her to set her back up. He stepped back, ducking under the swinging lightbulb above them.

The coppery tang of blood swam on top of her teeth, heat of her cheek tender and swollen beneath her eye. “Fuck you,” she spat, red splattering Graves face.

Graves blinked, his palm smearing the blood on his face. “Imagine what the 141 will say when they realise what scum they’ve let into their task force.” The gun he’d discarded on the desk back in his grasp, the back of it slamming into Jinx’s stomach.

Jinx swore, head hanging as she tried to catch her breath. Her trembling breathes shuddering through her whole body.

“Laswell’s gone soft.”

Laswell the first person that offered Jinx a lifeline. An opportunity to make her own luck, instead of being forced to do other people’s bidding. There was no way she’d betray her team, even if they weren’t coming for her. She’d do this for Laswell. No way she’d give Graves what he wanted.

“Now,” Graves said, dragging her chair across the room. “Find me that missile.”

The door opened to the right, but before Jinx could search what laid beyond it, a harsh slap sent her head back down. Two more soldiers appeared either side of her, fingers circling her biceps as the one behind her cut the ties from her ankles. The cuff on her right wrist removed and shoved in one of the pockets of on of their vest.

“Find it yourself,” Jinx snarled, trying to escape their hold. Her cheek smashed into the keyboard, her left wrist cuffed to the locked drawer under the desk.

The shadows retreated, filing out the door one by one.

Graves sat on the desk beside her, grasping her chin, nails sinking into her cheek. “I’m sure 157 would love to pick up that investigation on you again,” he said, shoving her back into the chair and pushing it closer to the desk.

She tried not to react, the flutter of her jaw giving her away. Graves smiled, his hand forcing hers to move the mouse and click on a file.

“Find me that missile and you won’t have to worry about the task force 141 or 157. Make your own luck today Jinx. Would be such a shame to waste such potential.” He tapped the clock on the wall as he stood, the click of numbers counting down.

Jinx stared at the timer, waiting for the door to shut behind Graves. Her gaze darting to the monitor in front of her and the database of information at her fingertips.

One camera in the left corner behind her, the only scrap of security watching her. The webcam above the screen showed a green light, one way they could frame her for searching for the missiles. Either way she wasn’t coming out of this alive. If it wasn’t the shadows it was the two task forces. That or the bloody government, the military and that meant a price on her head.

No, Jinx would have to be smart. Fifty six minutes to gather all the information she could. She’d find that missile and somehow contact Laswell, the last resort being selling it to the highest bidder in order to survive. Maybe even go back to where she came from, that’s all she knew.

Clicking on the secure database, she scrolled through the numbered files. Hundreds and hundreds of data, quick flicks of text she read and then closed for the next one. Her eyes sore, head throbbing as she tried to memorise the key pieces of intel. Tried to trace the maps and the organisations profiled within the facility.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Jinx mumbled to herself, leaning forward to double check what she’d just read. She automatically closed the file and hid it within another, no doubt they would have it backed up so there was no use deleting it.

She stood from the desk, her gaze trailing the lead from the monitor to the computer tower underneath. Crawling to back she dragged it out, ripping the leads out of it and stamping on the tower.

An explosion shook the foundations, the echoes of guns firing in the distance. It was now or never. Jinx ripped the bent metal from the side of the computer tower and flinched as her finger cut on a scrap piece of metal. She pried it off just as the door flung open and a shadow lunged at her.

She tried to run, but her cuffed wrist yanked her back. The shadow’s hands wrapping around her throat, pressing into her wind pipe. Her left arm useless crushed behind her back, the man’s body pinning to the edge of the desk.

Jinx plunged the metal in the man’s neck swiping it across his throat. Blood spraying on her face, his hands flung to cover the wound as he dropped to the ground bringing her down with him. She scrambled away, watching him choke on his own blood as she caught her own breath.

The timer beeped, the repetition beep drawing Jinx back to the present. To the body lying on the floor, she got to her feet trying to kick the door shut. A sliver of light still entering the room.

She spun around tugging the cuff attached to locked drawer. The jagged piece of metal she’d used as a weapon unreachable. A cry tore from her lips, the bite of the cuff sinking further into her wrist as she tried to pull the drawer out.

“Jinx.”

The sound of his muffled voice sent a shiver up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed as she stared at the two soldiers wearing skeleton masks.

Soap walked closer, jinx taking a step back. Her gaze flitted to his eyes and then to his gun.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” she blurted out. Her heart hammered against her chest as Ghost toed the wrecked computer tower, his fist silencing the timers alarm.

“You know something,” Soap said, glancing to Ghost. He yanked the small axe from his pack and swung it at the chain connecting Jinx’s cuff.

Jinx nodded, pushing the cuff down so she could run her wrist. “What if I do?”

The radio crackled, Captain Price asking for a status. Soap replied, taking up his place outside the room with the rest of the team who were approaching the next area. Ghost hanging back with her.

“Where’s the missile Jinx? Everyone knows that’s why Graves wanted you here,” Ghost said, he cocked his head to the side and looked her up and down.

Time, never seemed to be on her side either. The firing of guns in the distance reminding her to hurry up. Overthink and you’re gone. Bang.

“Chicago.” She didn’t want to use her one and only way out, but there was no way she’d escape the likes of Ghost. Soap maybe yes, but not him.

“Good girl, you’ve been promoted,” Ghost said, pulling a mask out of his pocket and chucking it to Jinx. “Welcome to Ghost team.”

She caught it, slinging it over her shoulder as pushed her hair back.

Ghost patted the shadow down, pulling a pistol and ammo out of the straps of his vest. “Stick with me, Jinx,” he said, passing her the guard’s discarded gun into her hands.

Jinx hesitated, the cool metal meeting her fingertips. She raised the gun, pointing it at Ghost. “I gave you intel, you let me go.” She didn’t expect him to give her a weapon, the weight of holding it up trembling through her arms.

He didn’t even blink as he stared at her, as if he’d stared at death regularly. He closed the distance, lifting his arm and forcing the gun back to her side.

“Laswell told me where you’re from. We’re not the 157. You be good to me, I’ll be good to you,” he said, plucking the mask off her shoulder and pulling it over her head.

“I’ll be good,” she said, adjusting the mask to sit comfortably over the bridge of her nose.

His thumbs smeared over the black paint under his eyes and he held Jinx’s head, staining the skin around her eyes that were not covered by the skeleton mask.

“Come on Lucky.”

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Checkmate: Book 3 of 3 BTR Series: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 11: Cal pt. 2

Meanwhile in an undisclosed location..

Valerie pressed the cold rag against Rhea’s burning forehead, her own hands trembling as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The fever had worsened over the past few hours, Rhea’s body convulsing in fits of shivering, her skin clammy and unnaturally pale. Valerie knew what was happening—toxic shock syndrome. The infection was taking hold, and if they didn’t act fast, Rhea wouldn’t make it through the night.

“Stay with me, Mamba,” Valerie murmured, brushing damp strands of hair away from Rhea’s face. “You gotta hold on.”

Rhea’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her body trapped between fevered delirium and painful consciousness. She twitched, her fingers curling weakly against the sweat-soaked sheets beneath her.

Valerie bit her lip, her mind racing. They were running out of time. The man who took Rhea hadn’t exactly been kind—no proper medical treatment, barely enough water, and whatever wounds she’d sustained had clearly turned septic. Valerie had seen this before. She knew where it led.

The door creaked open, and Valerie tensed as a shadow entered the dimly lit room.

“What’s her condition?” The voice was deep, clipped, void of emotion.

Valerie didn’t bother looking up as she wrung out the rag and placed it back on Rhea’s forehead. “She’s dying.”

A pause. Then, a slow exhale. “Fix her.”

Valerie’s eyes snapped up, a glare cutting through the dim light. “She needs a hospital, antibiotics—actual medical care, not me dabbing her with a fucking wet cloth.”

The man—tall, broad, face obscured by the darkness—stepped closer. “That’s not an option.”

“She won’t last another twelve hours like this,” Valerie shot back. “You need her alive, don’t you? Then let me do my job.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then, the man sighed. “What do you need?”

Valerie clenched her jaw. “IV fluids, antibiotics, something to control the fever. And I need her moved somewhere cleaner—this place is a breeding ground for infection.”

The man was quiet for a moment before turning toward the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As he left, Valerie let out a slow breath, her hands trembling as she turned back to Rhea.

“Just hold on,” she whispered, gripping Rhea’s hand. “Dustin will be back with everything.”

After some time, Dustin stood in the doorway, his presence looming as he tossed the supplies onto the small table beside Valerie. IV bags, a vial of antibiotics, syringes—enough to keep Rhea from slipping further into the abyss. He watched as Valerie immediately got to work, her hands moving with practiced precision as she prepped an IV line.

“I should’ve let her die,” Dustin muttered under his breath, arms crossed.

Valerie’s hands paused for the briefest moment before she turned to face him. “This shit is getting—”

Before she could finish, Dustin moved. His hand shot out, gripping her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Think long and hard about what you’re about to say,” he warned, voice dangerously low.

Valerie swallowed hard, but her gaze didn’t waver. Her scalp burned from his grip, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, she let out a slow breath and spoke evenly.

“Let me work on her.”

Dustin held her there for a second longer before releasing her, watching as she stumbled slightly before regaining her composure. She turned back to Rhea, rolling up the sleeves of her sweat-soaked shirt as she inserted the IV catheter into Rhea’s arm.

As the saline began to drip, Valerie murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

“You’re not dying today, Mamba.”

Dustin lingered for a moment before stepping back, his eyes flicking between Rhea’s pale face and Valerie’s determined one. Then, without another word, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

After a few hours, Valerie exited the room after she managed to finally get Rhea’s fever down. She took one last look at Rhea, letting out a quiet sigh before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. She climbed the stairs with heavy steps, her mind racing, before finally reaching the surveillance room where Dustin sat, his eyes glued to the monitors.

“How long is your revenge going to take?” Valerie asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe.

Dustin didn’t look away from the screen, his expression indifferent. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown soft for The Black Mamba.”

Valerie’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Dustin let out a sharp chuckle, finally turning his head to look at her. “You should’ve thought of that before you approached me at Demetri’s funeral.”

At the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s name, Valerie flinched. Her eyes darkened, but she pushed forward. “There’s no use anymore! We could just put her in the van and drive back to Stamford.”

Dustin threw his head back in laughter. “That would be the day, huh?”

Valerie’s patience snapped. “We’ve done all we said we would do! For God’s sake, Dustin, her fingernails are gone! She’s bandaged up like a damn hospital patient! She is not The Black Mamba anymore!”

Dustin’s smirk wavered, but he stayed silent.

Valerie pointed at the screen, her voice rising. “That is not a trained assassin anymore! That’s a broken woman who probably doesn’t even have the strength to fight back. So tell me, Dustin, what more do you want?”

Dustin leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the desk. “You don’t get it, do you?” He nodded toward the monitor. “She doesn’t have to look like The Black Mamba anymore. She just has to be her. And if you think that part of her is gone, you’re dead wrong.”

Valerie shook her head in frustration. “This isn’t revenge anymore, this is torture. And I won’t be a part of it.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes at her, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Then I suggest you tread carefully, Valerie. Because walking away? That’s not an option.”

—

June 14th, 2025

Rhea rubbed cocoa butter over her large tummy, her fingers gliding gently over the stretched skin. A small smile played on her lips as she felt a strong kick from inside.

“Jeyson, stop superkicking me,” she murmured, shaking her head as another nudge followed.

She washed her hands and exited the bathroom, stepping into the dimly lit bedroom. Jey was already in bed, leaning against the headboard, his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he watched her with an easy smirk.

He clapped his hands together. “Get your sexy self in this bed now.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but obeyed, making her way over with exaggerated slowness. As she climbed in, Jey reached out, running his fingers along the side of her belly before resting his palm against it.

“Did I ever tell you how complete you look?” he asked softly.

Rhea snorted. “Completely overweight?”

Jey made a tsk sound and shook his head. “Nah, Mami… completely beautiful.”

His voice was full of sincerity, and Rhea felt her chest tighten. Pregnancy had made her self-conscious, but with Jey, she never felt anything less than adored.

She sighed as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her stomach. “You always know what to say.”

Jey smirked, looking up at her. “That’s ‘cause I mean it.”

She ran her fingers through his short curls, relaxing into the warmth of his body beside her. The kicks inside her softened, as if Jeyson knew he was safe too.

“How about me and you tomorrow before the party, we go and pick out Jeyce’s birthday gift?” Jey suggested, his voice filled with that playful tone that always made Rhea smile.

Rhea frowned a bit. “Baby, I already picked it out for him,” she replied, her words slightly casual, as if she hadn’t even realized Jey was going to suggest going together.

Jey’s eyebrows shot up, surprised. “Baby!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t even give me a chance to be part of the fun!”

Rhea tossed him an apologetic smile, before kissing him softly on the forehead “Well, you didn’t answer the phone, and it was the last one. So, I went ahead and grabbed it.”

Jey pouted. “What did you get him then?”

Rhea smirked and proudly said, “I bought him an all-black record player with the vinyl Louder Than Bombs.” She added, “Don’t worry, I put ‘From Bonus Mommy and Daddy’ on the gift tag.”

Jey’s expression shifted from playful to confused. “Louder Than Bombs?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that vinyl?”

Rhea’s lips curled into a smile, “It’s an album by The Smiths.”

Jey’s confusion deepened. “The Smiths?” he repeated, sounding incredulous. “What’s so great about a band from the ‘80s? That’s way before Jeyce was even born!”

Rhea chuckled softly. “I know, it’s an old band. But the thing is, Jeyce has been spending a lot of time with Demi lately, and he’s gotten into them. There’s just something about the way their music resonates. It’s soft, melancholic, and honest—just like Jeyce in a lot of ways.”

Jey tilted his head slightly, trying to understand. “So you’re telling me you bought him a vinyl from a band that’s not even around anymore, and it’s because of Demi?”

Rhea nodded, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and understanding. “Yeah. Jeyce has been going through a lot lately, and I think The Smiths speak to him in a way that most music doesn’t. It’s not about being modern; it’s about the depth in their lyrics, the way they capture the complexities of life.”

Jey’s gaze softened as he processed her words. “I guess I never really understood why people like The Smiths. I’ve heard their songs before, but I didn’t get it.”

Rhea reached for Jey’s hand, holding it gently in hers. “It’s not just about the music, Jey. It’s about connection. The way we connect with things that speak to us—whether it’s music, people, or something deeper. Jeyce sees something in their lyrics, something he can relate to. It’s not about the time or era; it’s about finding something that speaks to who you are in the moment.”

Jey stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “So it’s more than just some vinyl. It’s about you understanding where Jeyce is at and showing him you get him, even if it’s through an old record.”

“Exactly,” Rhea replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Jey nodded slowly, finally understanding the thoughtfulness behind the gift. “You always know how to give gifts with meaning, don’t you?”

Rhea smiled, shrugging slightly. “I just want to make sure he knows we’re thinking about him, no matter how old he gets.”

Jey leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her stomach. “Well, I might not have understood the whole thing at first, but I get it now. And I’m proud of you for thinking about him the way you do.”

Rhea laughed softly. “It’s not about being proud, babe. It’s about being there for him when he needs us the most. And for now, music is his way of expressing it all.”

Jey wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Well, we’ll make sure he knows how much we love him—through vinyl and everything else.”

—

The next day, Jey and Rhea arrived at Sabrina’s Sweet Tooth, a cozy little bakery known for its irresistible treats. Rhea couldn’t help but smile as she stepped inside, the sweet smell of freshly baked goods wrapping around her like a warm hug. She approached the counter, looking at the young cashier with a pleasant smile.

“I’m here for a birthday cake,” Rhea said. “Should be under Fatu.”

The cashier nodded, gesturing toward the back of the shop. “I’ll grab it for you right away.”

As Rhea waited, she glanced around the bakery. But when she turned to look at Jey, he wasn’t standing beside her. Instead, he was bent slightly forward, his face inches from the display case. His eyes were locked onto something inside with a look of sheer wonder.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, amused. “Baby… what are you doing?” she asked, her voice playful as she walked up to him.

Jey didn’t even glance over at her at first. “It looks so good,” he murmured, clearly mesmerized by what he was staring at.

Rhea followed his gaze and soon found herself looking at a towering mountain of Oreo and chocolate chip cookie brownies. The perfect marriage of two decadent treats—brownies and cookies, piled high into what could only be described as heaven on a platter. The Brookie, as some people called it, was impossible to resist.

Rhea chuckled softly. “Which one, babe?” she teased, already knowing the answer.

Jey’s eyes stayed glued to the dessert, and with a small grin, he pointed toward the platter. “That glorious thing right there.”

Rhea tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “That one?” she asked, still teasing.

Jey turned to her then, his expression breaking into a wide grin. “I want the whole platter.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

Jey didn’t flinch. “I’m serious.”

Rhea sighed in mock exasperation, shaking her head with a smile. “You really want that much?”

Jey’s grin only widened. “Why not? It’s a birthday celebration. We’re treating ourselves.”

Before Rhea could respond, the cashier returned with the cake, just as she ordered. Rhea took the cake with a smile, but she was still eyeing the Brookie as she set it on the counter.

The cashier, noticing their interest, said brightly, “The Brookies are buy one, get one free today!”

Jey’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take the whole platter, please,” he said eagerly.

The cashier smiled and moved quickly to grab the entire platter of the decadent brownies, carefully packaging them up and totaling everything. Rhea couldn’t help but laugh, watching Jey’s excitement as he stood there, practically bouncing with anticipation.

She paid for the cake and the Brookies, amused by how quickly Jey had decided to indulge in the sweet treat. As the cashier handed them the packaged desserts, Jey grabbed them with both hands, his eyes practically glowing with happiness.

As they made their way out of the bakery, Jey grinned, glancing over at Rhea. “I can’t believe you let me get the whole platter,” she said, still surprised at his bold choice.

Jey shrugged playfully, his voice full of contentment. “I am content with life right now, Mami,” he said, holding the large platter close. “What’s better than cake, cookies, and spending the day with you?”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head at him, but her heart swelled with affection. There was something about Jey’s unapologetic joy that always managed to make her feel lighthearted. “You’re impossible,” she teased.

They made their way to the car, and Jey placed the cake and Brookies carefully in the backseat. As Rhea began to open the passenger door of the Tahoe, she hesitated for a moment, feeling the strain of her late trimester taking a toll on her body. Jey immediately noticed, his eyes softening with concern.

He quickly moved to her side and gently helped her into the seat, supporting her with his steady hands. “Got you, Mami,” he murmured softly.

Rhea smiled gratefully, leaning into him as he closed the door behind her. “Thanks, babe,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jey gave her a wink as he made his way to the driver’s side. “Well, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

As he slid into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at Rhea, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of her, even more beautiful in her pregnant glow. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Jeyce’s face when he opened his presents later, but for now, he was content to just be with Rhea. The road ahead was full of surprises, but with her by his side, Jey felt like nothing could stop them.

Rhea leaned back in her seat, feeling the weight of the day’s sweetness, both from the desserts and from being with Jey. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the calm, knowing that, in this moment, everything was going great.

—

The song ‘I Love You For All The Seasons’ by The Fuzz played in the backyard as it remained alive with laughter, chaos, and the unmistakable aftermath of a sugar rush. Jeyce and Demi bounced around like wild animals, their energy seemingly endless as they ran circles around the patio furniture, the effects of the Brookies hitting them in full force. Their giggles filled the warm air, making it clear they had no plans of calming down anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Jaciyah and his girlfriend, Daya, sat comfortably on the couch inside, lazily stroking Rhea’s fluffy guinea pig, Bartholomew. The tiny creature twitched its nose as Jaciyah ran a finger over its soft fur, while Daya rested her chin on her hand, watching the interaction.

On the patio, Jey stood by the grill, flipping the burgers with practiced ease. The scent of sizzling meat filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of chlorine from the half-constructed pool in the backyard. The ground was still a mess, dirt and gravel scattered across the yard, but Jey hadn’t let that stop him from throwing a proper barbecue. His patio was untouched by the renovations, and that was all he needed.

Beside him, their dogs Barry and Bella stood alert, their eyes locked onto the grill, tails wagging in anticipation.

Inside, Rhea held the bowl of seasoned steaks, waiting for Jey to be ready for the next batch of meat. However, as she took a step forward, a sudden sharp kick from Jeyson made her freeze. The unexpected pressure knocked the wind out of her, forcing her to clutch the edge of the counter.

She set the bowl down quickly, sucking in a slow breath as another strong kick followed.

Daya, who had been casually watching her from the couch, straightened up, concern flashing across her face. “Mrs. Fatu, are you okay?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.

Rhea groaned quietly, one hand pressing against her belly as she tried to breathe through the discomfort. “I’m fine,” she reassured her, though her voice was strained. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she gently rubbed her stomach. “Just baby Jeyson thinking it’s okay to kick the hell out of me.”

Daya gave her a knowing smile. “Sounds like he’s already trying to be a little wrestler like his dad.”

Rhea huffed a small laugh, still massaging the spot where her son had just launched his assault. “Yeah, well, he better save those superkicks for when he’s actually out in the world.”

Jaciyah chuckled from the couch. “Better hope he doesn’t come out putting people in the Uso Splash straight out the womb.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but smiled, finally straightening up. “If he does, I’m sending him straight to his father.”

She grabbed the bowl again, heading toward the patio door where Jey was still focused on the grill. As she stepped outside, she caught him in the middle of a conversation with Barry and Bella, who were both staring at him like they were deeply invested in whatever he was saying.

“No, y’all ain’t gettin’ none,” Jey was saying, pointing the tongs at the dogs as if they could understand him. “Don’t even try it.”

Rhea smirked as she set the bowl down next to him. “Babe, you know they’re not gonna listen, right?”

Jey turned toward her, eyes scanning her face with slight concern. “You good, baby?” he asked, catching the way she was still lightly holding her stomach.

Rhea nodded. “Yeah, just your son reminding me he’s in there training for his first WrestleMania.”

Jey laughed, flipping another steak. “That’s my boy.”

Rhea shook her head, smiling as she leaned against the counter, watching as their family and friends enjoyed the day. Despite the chaos, the half-finished yard, and the sugar-fueled madness, everything was nice.

Jeyce and Demi came running up to them, practically vibrating with excitement. Their eyes were wide, their movements erratic—the clear signs of a sugar rush in full effect.

Jeyce grabbed onto Rhea’s arm, practically bouncing in place. “Rhea! Can I cut my cake?!” he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Jey, standing beside the grill, gave his son a pointed look. “Don’t even try it, lil’ man,” he warned. “You haven’t even had your food yet.”

Jeyce groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “But you gave us the Brookies!”

Jey narrowed his eyes. “I gave you each one Brookie. Just one.”

Rhea, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, turned to her husband, her brow lifting slightly. “You gave them one?”

Jey looked at her suspiciously, picking up on the shift in her tone. “Yeah… one.” His gaze sharpened as he studied her face. “Don’t tell me you gave them more than one?”

Rhea pressed her lips together, her silence saying everything.

Jey’s jaw dropped. “Baby!”

Rhea shrugged, feigning innocence. “They looked so happy,” she defended. “And they asked so nicely.”

Jeyce and Demi took that as their cue to bolt, giggling as they ran into the house before Jey could lecture them further.

Jey sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “See? This is why they’re bouncin’ off the damn walls!”

Rhea chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Relax, baby. It’s a party. Let them have fun.”

Jey exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, when they throw up from all the sugar, you clean it.”

Rhea smirked. “Deal.”

Jey shook his head again, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. This was his life, just like he wanted.

“UNCLE JON!”

Jey and Rhea turned their heads as Jeyce pulled his girlfriend, Demi, by the hand, both rushing toward the front door. Excitement radiated off Jeyce as he sprinted ahead, nearly knocking over a side table in his eagerness.

Inside, Jon and Trinity had just stepped in, pushing a sleek black double stroller where their twin baby boys, Jarrell and Judah, were comfortably nestled. The moment Jeyce spotted them, he wasted no time launching himself at Jon, wrapping his arms around his uncle in a tight hug.

“Hey, nephew!” Jon laughed, nearly stumbling back from the impact before returning the hug.

Rhea smiled at the sight and patted Jey’s arm. “I’ll go greet them, baby.”

Jey leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. “Go ahead, mama.”

He watched her as she walked toward the family, her pregnancy giving her an even more radiant glow. Jey let out a small breath, shaking his head with a smirk before turning his focus back to the grill. He flipped the burgers, setting them aside on a tray, then reached for the seasoned steaks, carefully placing them over the open flame. The air filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling meat.

Just as he settled into his rhythm, the patio door slid open, and Jey didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“What up, Uce?” Jon’s familiar voice greeted him as he stepped outside.

Jey smirked, grabbing the tongs. “Ain’t nothin’ much, just tryin’ to keep the peace before these kids burn my damn house down.”

Jon let out a deep chuckle, glancing toward the house where Jeyce and Demi were now chatting with Trinity. “Yeah, I saw Jeyce runnin’ on a sugar rush. Y’all let them loose on the sweets?”

Jey sighed, shaking his head. “Man, I gave ‘em one Brookie. Just one.” He turned his head and shot Jon an exasperated look. “Rhea? She prolly’ gave them three each.”

Jon let out a loud laugh, clapping Jey on the back. “Damn, Uce. You losin’ control of your own house.”

Jey scoffed, flipping a steak. “Man, don’t remind me. She always settin’ me up, then lookin’ at me all innocent like she ain’t just turn these kids into straight-up maniacs.”

Jon grinned, cracking open a beer and leaning against the railing. “That’s what happens when you marry a mastermind.”

Jey smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, that’s my mastermind.”

Jon took a sip of his beer, his expression shifting slightly. “How she doin’, though? For real.”

Jey’s movements slowed for a second before he sighed. “She good. Just tired. This pregnancy hittin’ her harder than she lets on.”

Jon nodded, watching the grill. “You makin’ sure she takin’ it easy?”

Jey let out a dry laugh. “Tryin’ to. But you know Rhea. Telling her to rest is like tellin’ the sun not to shine.”

Jon smirked. “Yeah, well, she’s definitely one of us.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “No doubt.”

Jon took another sip, then nodded toward the driveway. “Ma and Pops land yet?”

Jey flipped the last steak, watching the juices sizzle. “Yeah, they should be pullin’ up soon in a few minutes.”

Jon let out a low whistle. “Damn. Whole squad in one place.”

Jey smirked, tapping the tongs against the grill. “Ain’t nothin’ more important than family, Uce.”

Jon clinked his beer against Jey’s tongs. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“UNCLE OOOH AHH!”

Jey and Jon turned toward the front door as Joe stepped inside, his booming presence filling the room. His wife, Galina, walked in beside him, her warm smile already set on Rhea.

“Look at you,” Galina said, pulling Rhea into a gentle embrace. “You are glowing.”

Rhea chuckled, rubbing her belly. “You’re like the third person to say that today.”

Joe, meanwhile, scooped Jeyce into a bear hug. “Damn, nephew! You gettin’ big on me.”

Jeyce grinned. “I been eatin’ good, Uncle Joe!”

Joe ruffled his hair. “I bet. With your pops on the grill, y’all probably eatin’ better than me.” Galina gave her husband of ten years a playful smack on the his arm.

After giving Rhea a quick hug, Joe crossed the living room, heading for the backyard where Jey and Jon were manning the grill. As soon as he stepped outside, he took a deep breath, nodding in approval at the scent of seared seasoned meat.

“Aight, who’s on the grill?”

Jey smirked. “Who you think?”

Joe let out a deep chuckle, pulling both of his cousins into a quick, brotherly hug. “Man, it’s good to see y’all.”

Jon clapped Joe on the back. “Same, Uce. You know it ain’t a real cookout ‘til you show up.”

Joe grabbed a beer from the cooler before leaning against the patio railing. His eyes drifted toward the house, where Rhea was now sitting on the couch, her hand resting on her belly as Galina and Trinity talked around her.

“Yo,” Joe said, nudging Jey. “Your woman looks like she’s about to pop.”

Jey let out a short laugh, flipping the steaks. “Due date’s mid-August.”

Joe took a sip of his beer. “Damn, you ready for that?”

Jey exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the house before turning back to the grill. “Yeah. But I ain’t gonna lie, this pregnancy been different.”

Joe smirked. “She hit the I hate you phase yet?”

Jon let out a loud laugh as Jey shook his head. “Bruh…” Jey ran a hand down his face. “I accidentally ate one of her ice cream sandwiches, and I swear to God, it was like I started World War III.”

Joe nearly spit out his drink. “Oh, hell no.”

Jon was still laughing. “She probably looked at you like you committed a crime.”

Jey gave him a deadpan look. “She did, Uce. I ain’t never seen her so mad in my life. Talkin’ ‘bout how could you do this to me? Like I just betrayed the whole family.”

Joe was doubled over laughing now. “Yo, you never mess with a pregnant woman’s cravings, man. That’s a death wish.”

Jey sighed, flipping the last steak. “Trust me, I learned my lesson.”

Joe took another sip of his beer, shaking his head. “Man… fatherhood looks real good on you.”

Jey looked at him for a moment before smirking. “Yeah… it feels real good too.”

Joe took another swig of his beer, glancing around at the massive pile of dirt and construction materials in the backyard. “So, I don’t mean to be curious, but why the hell is your backyard gone?”

Jey let out a laugh, shaking his head as he flipped the last steak. “Man, ever since Rhea got her little inheritance, all she wanna do is spend. This woman wants a pool now.”

Joe smirked. “Shit, at least she’s giving back.”

Jon nodded in agreement. “Hell yeah, man. ‘Cause I’m takin’ off all these days to be with the boys and Trin’, and she got me doing seminars and meet-and-greets for her charity foundation. If anything, Rhea is helping us stay afloat.”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah, man. Ever since I stepped back from wrestling for a bit, she got me doing the same thing in Florida. I’ve been workin’ with her on some shit down there, helping set up events. Rhea’s helping the family more than you think.”

Jey looked toward the house, his expression softening. Through the patio doors, he could see Rhea sitting on the couch, laughing as Jaciyah excitedly showed off the guinea pig to Galina and Trinity. The warmth in her face, the way her body instinctively cradled their unborn son—it filled his chest with something deeper than love.

Still watching her, Jey’s voice grew quiet. “Thank you for saving her that day.”

Jon glanced at his twin, reading the weight behind his words. He knew exactly what Jey was talking about—Orlando. The blood transfusion. The day everything nearly slipped away.

Jon exhaled, rubbing his chin before responding. “Anytime, Uce.” He patted Jey’s shoulder, his voice steady. “She family for real. Not just ‘cause she carryin’ our blood now, but… somethin’ deeper than that.”

Jey nodded, swallowing back the emotion creeping up his throat. “Yeah… deeper than that.”

Jey continued, “But shit y’all I don’t mean to brag but you know she about to be in Forbes?”

Joe nearly choked on his beer. “Get the fuck outta here.”

Jey smirked, flipping a steak and nodding. “Forreal. They called her this past week, they wanna do a special edition.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “What they finna call that?”

Jey grinned, pride clear in his voice. “‘First & Only Female Billionaire of Sports Entertainment.’”

Joe let out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought she inherited nine-fifty?”

Jey nodded. “She flipped it. Now she got more than a billion, dude. I tell you, man… she is set.”

Joe leaned against the grill, smirking. “I like how you said she instead of we.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s her money. I like what she’s doin’ with it. Shit… to be honest, money never really changed her.”

Joe grinned. “That’s good! That means the man who gave her that money knew what he was doing.”

Jey’s jaw tightened at that. His hands clenched briefly on the tongs before he relaxed. “Yeah… that fucker.”

Jon glanced at him, sensing the shift in mood. “Aye, man. He made sure Rhea was good before he bit the dust. Be thankful for that.”

Jey exhaled slowly, nodding. He didn’t want to be thankful—not to Morris. The mere mention of him annoyed the hell out of Jey. But still… he had to admit, the man secured Rhea’s future.

Before he could dwell on it too much, Joe perked up, his ears catching a familiar sound. “I think I hear that laugh.”

Jey and Jon turned toward the house and saw their father, Solofa, standing in the doorway, his deep laughter echoing as he hugged Jeyce. Beside him, their mother, Talisua, held Jeyce’s face in her hands, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Then Jey watched as Solofa wrapped Rhea in a big hug, his strong arms pulling her in like she was his own daughter. Rhea melted into the embrace, and Jey couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

And just when he thought the house was already full, their younger brother Joseph strolled in, his arm wrapped around his wife Almia.

Jon grinned. “Shit, we got the whole damn family here now.”

Solofa opened the patio door, taking in the sight of his sons gathered around the grill. A warm smile stretched across his face. “Mālō le soifua, boys,” he greeted before pulling all four of them into a tight hug.

Joseph dapped up his two older brothers before turning to their cousin. “Joe, what’s good, Uce?”

Joe grinned, slapping Joseph’s back. “Man, just chillin’. You know how it is.”

Solofa, ever observant, glanced past them and raised an eyebrow. “Son… why the hell is there a big hole the size of my ass in the ground?”

Jey, Jon, and Joseph burst into laughter.

Jey wiped a tear from his eye. “Rhea wanted a pool, so… we’re getting a pool, Dad.”

Solofa shook his head, chuckling. “I might just have to sell my properties in Florida and move here.”

Jey scoffed, flipping a steak. “Dad, there is no way.”

Solofa crossed his arms, his smirk growing. “And why not? Me and your mother will have fresh Pani Popo ready for you and Rhea every week.”

Jon raised his hands. “Shit, Pops, come to our crib instead.”

Jey smirked, side-eyeing his brother. “Yeah, Dad, go to the oldest twin by nine minutes.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Man, I knew you were gonna say that.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “Y’all still arguing about nine damn minutes?”

Joseph laughed. “Man, you know they never let that shit go.”

Solofa just smiled, shaking his head as he watched his boys bicker like they were kids again. “Doesn’t matter where we go—y’all all gonna be eating at our table, anyway.”

—

After Jey finished grilling, the scent of seared steak and burgers lingered as everyone gathered around the dining table. Laughter and conversation flowed freely, the atmosphere thick with the kind of love and comfort that only family could bring. Plates clinked, utensils scraped against dishes, and voices overlapped in easy rhythm, filling the house with a joyful hum.

Jey leaned back in his chair, his arm draped over Rhea’s shoulders, watching the scene unfold with quiet pride. This was what he had always wanted—a full house, family surrounding them, happiness radiating from every corner.

Rhea, cradling her growing belly, let out a soft chuckle as she watched Jaciyah and Daya sneak extra fries from each other’s plates. Across from them, Jon was bouncing one of his twin boys on his knee while Trinity wiped drool off the other twin’s chubby cheek. Joe and Galina were deep in conversation with Solofa and Talisua, reminiscing about old stories from Solofa’s time in the business. Even Joseph and Almia, usually more reserved, were fully engaged, laughing as Jeyce sat next to Demi, he animatedly retold some wild tale from school.

Jey let the moment sink in before clapping his hands together. “Alright, y’all, time for the main event.”

Jeyce’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with anticipation. “The cake?!”

Jey smirked, standing up. “Of course, the cake. You think we’d forget?”

Jeyce practically vibrated with excitement as Jey disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned, carrying the cake carefully in both hands. Gasps and murmurs of appreciation spread around the room as everyone caught sight of it.

It was a masterpiece—a cake designed to look like a stack of vinyl records, each layer crafted with meticulous detail to resemble Jeyce’s favorite albums. At the very top, Chewbacca stood proudly, holding a miniature version of The Smiths’ album cover. It was the perfect blend of his two greatest loves, Star Wars and The Smiths, and Jeyce’s eyes shone with disbelief.

“Yo, that’s so sick!” Jeyce gasped, practically bouncing on his feet.

Jey chuckled as he grabbed a candle, carefully pressing it into the cake before lighting it. The small flame flickered, casting a warm glow over his son’s beaming face.

Stepping back, Jey slid his arm around Rhea’s waist, pulling her close. She leaned into him, her own smile soft and full of love as she watched their son soak in the moment.

“Alright, everyone,” Jey said, his voice warm and full of pride. “Let’s do this.”

As the first notes of Happy Birthday rang out, voices filled the room, rising together in perfect harmony.

“Happy birthday to you…”

—

Present

Jey lunged forward, his entire body coiled with rage, ready to tear Brent apart. But Cal intercepted, gripping Jey’s arm with unyielding strength.

“Let me go!” Jey snarled, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Cal didn’t move. “He has information.”

Jey’s nostrils flared. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. “What fucking information?”

Cal turned to Brent, who refused to meet Jey’s eyes. Instead, Brent’s head hung low, shame carving deep lines into his face.

“Tell him,” Cal demanded.

Brent exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he was about to say. “They’re dead… the other two that helped me.”

Jey didn’t flinch. “I don’t give a fuck about them. Where is Rhea?”

Brent hesitated before shaking his head. “I—I don’t know. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.”

Jey’s patience snapped. “What the fuck was the initial plan, then?”

Brent’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t want to say this.”

Cal picked up the cattle rod from the nearby table, the metal humming as he clicked it on. “You’re going to tell him.”

Brent’s eyes widened, his body stiffening. He licked his lips nervously before blurting out, “It was just supposed to be revenge! That’s all!”

Jey’s jaw tightened. “Revenge? On who?”

Brent exhaled sharply. “Adam. He was supposed to get back at Matthew, but Adam disappeared. Went into hiding. So Matthew took it upon himself.”

Jey’s stomach twisted at the name. “Matt? Rhea’s ex-husband?”

Brent nodded, guilt etched deep into his expression. “Matthew befriended Rhea at the gym on purpose. He was under the illusion that she stole Adam’s share of the money from her sale, and he wanted it back. He was only supposed to get close to her until he found the money.”

Jey’s heart pounded against his ribcage. “But what happened?”

Brent hesitated before continuing. “Matthew fell in love with Rhea. He stopped answering our calls. We didn’t hear from him for a while, but then, in February 2023, he came back to me, Adam, and Thomas. He told us someone sent him a picture of Rhea coming out of some wrestler’s hotel room… and from then on, Matthew changed the plan.”

Jey’s blood ran cold. He knew exactly whose hotel room Rhea had been in. His.

Jey’s voice was low and dangerous. “What plan?”

Brent’s fingers twitched as he rubbed his palms together. “Matthew decided he would marry her. Wait until she confessed the affair. And then…”

Jey stepped closer, his body radiating fury. “Then what?”

Brent’s lips parted, but the words seemed to stick in his throat.

“Go on!” Jey barked.

Brent flinched. “Then… then he was going to end her life.”

The air in the room turned suffocating. Jey felt like the floor beneath him had given way, like the walls were closing in, but his rage anchored him. His fists trembled, his entire body vibrating with barely contained fury.

He forced himself to breathe through his nose, his mind racing.

“Just to be sure,” Jey said, his voice rough. “February 2023?”

Brent nodded. “Yeah… February 2023.”

Jey’s heart slammed against his ribs. That was the month their affair started. The month Rhea had chosen him over everything else.

His throat tightened, but he pushed forward. “So what was the end goal?”

Brent exhaled slowly, his face haunted. “We were going to eliminate Rhea and then go after Morris.”

Jey’s brow furrowed. “Morris? What the fuck does he have to do with this?”

Brent hesitated before speaking. “Well Matt knew of Morris and Morris knew of Matt.”

Jey’s head spun. Pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know existed were falling into place. The inheritance. The power struggle. The threats that never made sense before.

His grip on his fury wavered as the realization hit him like a truck.

This wasn’t just about money. This wasn’t just about revenge.

This was about control. About legacy. About something much bigger than he’d ever imagined.

And Rhea… Rhea was at the center of it all.

Jey looked at Cal, “Just one more question.. who is this other man?”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "The One Who Got Away"

You had spent the evening curled up on the couch, watching reruns of your favorite show, trying to forget about everything that had happened earlier that day. Your heart had been heavy for a while now. The world felt dull without Marshall in it, without his chaotic, yet comforting presence. The silence in your apartment felt suffocating. You missed him—more than you wanted to admit.

Suddenly, a knock at your door startled you. It was late. Who could it be?

You stood up, your mind racing, but when you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat. Standing before you, looking disheveled and vulnerable in a hoodie and jeans, was Marshall—Eminem himself. His expression was a mixture of exhaustion, regret, and raw emotion.

"Marshall?" you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken. "What are you doing here?"

He glanced around nervously before stepping inside, his eyes avoiding yours. "Can we talk?" he asked quietly, almost pleading.

You stepped back, allowing him in. You hadn't seen him in months, not since the day he left you. The day everything fell apart.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath. "I—I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have left you like I did. I was trying to be a better person for Kim, but I hurt you. And I hate myself for it."

You blinked, unsure of what to say. You had been carrying the pain of his sudden departure for so long, the hole in your chest growing with each passing day. "You left me when I needed you the most," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't understand why you did it, Marshall."

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, and you saw the pain there, the guilt. "Kim... when she got pregnant, I thought I had to do the right thing. I thought I had to be there for her and for the baby. I thought I was being a good guy, but in doing that, I ended up breaking your heart."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I loved you, Marshall. I gave you everything. And you just... left."

He stepped closer, his voice breaking. "I know, and I regret it more than you could ever imagine. But I was scared. I didn’t know how to juggle everything. I didn't want to hurt Kim or the baby, but I ended up hurting you... the one person who didn’t deserve it."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You had never seen Marshall like this before—so raw, so open. "Why are you here now?" you asked softly, a mix of anger and hurt still lingering in your chest.

He hesitated for a moment, his hands trembling slightly. "Because I can't live with myself anymore knowing I fucked up. I was a coward, and I made the worst decision of my life when I walked away from you. I thought it was the right thing to do, but... it wasn’t. You were always the one I needed. The one I wanted. And I fucked it up."

The tears that you had been holding back spilled over, and you wiped your face, trying to hide the pain. "But it's too late, Marshall. You made your choice."

He shook his head, his eyes desperate. "Please... don't say that. I know I can't change the past, but I can try to make things right. I can try to show you how sorry I am. I’ve been an idiot."

For a moment, you said nothing. Your mind was racing, torn between the anger of the past and the feelings you still had for him. You wanted to push him away, to tell him it was too late, but part of you, the part that had never stopped loving him, couldn't do it.

Slowly, you took a step forward, closing the space between you. "You hurt me, Marshall. You left me when I needed you the most."

He nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry."

You searched his face, the man who had once been your everything. "Why now?" you asked again, your voice shaky. "Why come back now, after all this time?"

"Because I’m done lying to myself," he replied, his voice filled with raw emotion. "I was an asshole, and I was afraid of my own feelings. But now, I know the truth. I love you. I always have, and I always will. I was just too fucking scared to admit it."

Your breath caught in your throat. Could this be real? Could he really mean this?

"Marshall..." you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

He reached out, taking your hand gently in his, as if afraid you'd pull away. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please... can we try again? Can we start over?"

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there, and for the first time in months, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this was what you needed too.

With a shaky breath, you nodded. "Yeah... we can try."

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

----

A/N this could be a new series guys I swear this is so cute and angsty.

[rosie-hww]

"and they are the most beautiful kids so, the wedding will be stolen by them and I love the idea" she grinned and planted soft kisses against his jaw as they talked "oh, yes, you must take me in your arms and carry me into our bedroom to finally consume this love after the beautiful party" she chuckled "you better be prepared for the number of dresses I will be wearing" she warned and laughed loving feeling his hands holding her tight and stroke her skin firmly as they exchanged ideas about their plans together "we never run out of ideas to make this marriage something thrilling every day, uh?"

Rosie’s body trembled, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of Ed’s touch. She was perched precariously on the edge of ecstasy, her legs straddling his hips, her skin glistening with a mix of water and sweat. the way his lips moved against her sensitive skin made her gasp. Her breasts, full and aching, responded to every flick of his tongue, every gentle tug of his teeth, as if they were begging for more. Her nipples, reddened and swollen, throbbed under his attention, each sensation shooting sparks of pleasure through her body. When Ed’s fingers, buried deep inside her, found that perfect spot—the one that made her lose all sense of control—Rosie’s breath hitched, and a high-pitched squeal escaped her lips. Her entire frame shook, her thighs clenching around him as her body surrendered to the waves of pleasure . The sound of her own voice, raw and desperate, "God! it feels so good... I love when you touch me, i love when you fuck me" she echoed in his ear, and she could feel his erection against her rear, she smiled in satisfaction "I can feel you, so hard... just like I like it" she said swaying her hips slowly to create this friction of his hard dick against her butt. "you drive me crazy" she whimpered.

They had the two little flower girls and now three little groomsmen built in their perfect family. It was impossible to find a more ideal or more personal wedding party than that. The sparkle in her eyes while speaking these plans into existence was wonderful, and infectious. “And it’s about consummating this marriage again. Don’t forget that,” he added cheekily and leant forward to meet her lips with the sweetest kiss. From there until they were ninety, and beyond, was a pledge he could happily agree to. 

She had moved, placing her legs on either side of his hips and raising herself just a bit above the waterline. His eyes now had a better view, his fingers had better access, and his face was buried in the most heavenly place that he could find himself. “Heavenly,” he whispered against her sensitive skin, finding the only word adequate enough to describe the fullness of her breasts. Her reddened, hardened, and nearly engorged nipples aching and begging to be stimulated by his touch. As if her body spoke to him and asked him directly to fill her senses. Every droplet of perspiration mixed with water was tasted and swallowed, eagerly. Distracted he was for a moment, but then recalled where his fingers were tucked inside of her and making her squeal. A tremble shook Rosie's entire frame, but he had her tightly in his grasp. “I’ve got you,” Ed whispered, keeping his steady right hand gripping the model by her waist while the muscles in his dominant left hand were used with such precision to to dig his fingers into her and find her spot. The location inside of her that represented a point of no return once he found it, whether it be with his dick or his fingers. The pitch and tone of her voice in moments of peak arousal was invigorating. A smug smile formed at the corners of his mouth as he pulled her nipple gently between his teeth. “How does it feel? Tell me, baby. I want to hear,” he dared her to string together a coherent sentence when he knew it was nearly impossible to speak. Finding a break, he pulled his fingers out and raised the hand to his lips. With pleasure, he tasted the evidence of her arousal and savored it. “So fucking delicious,” he murmured against his fingers, maintaining eye-contact with the blonde as she caught her breath. 

But with every intention to help her find her release in that moment, a break couldn’t last for long. Ed pulled his thumb back to her clit and rubbed it incessantly and vigorously. “You know what I want to see, so don't hold back,” he commanded her to figuratively and quite literally hand him her first orgasm of the evening. The first of many.

[taegularities]

C&F pregnancy drabble oh me oh my because what if the oc had a difficult pregnancy and jk talking to her tummy “Please dont give your mum a hard time baby” and he’s just touching and kissing her belly all the time like WAH

OH YOU KNOW HE WOULD, YOU KNOW IT BABY HHHHHH

[lokissweater]

birds of a feather . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

until he saw you skate.

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

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

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

“hi.”

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

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

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

“yeah! i’m okay! don’t worry!”

but he still couldn’t stabilize himself.

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

“okay!”

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

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

“y—y/n.”

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

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

“when did you start skating?”

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

his eyes bulged.

“hah?! today?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but that concept quickly changed the second you met.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“she’s eight aki! jesus christ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m training them from now on.”

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

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

“did you hear?”

you shook your head. “hear what!”

“akira wants to coach you and satoru.”

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

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

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

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

“yesyesyesyes!—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he stuck his tongue out. “says who.”

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

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

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

he grinned and ruffled your hair. “thanks!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he grinned.

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

“toru!”

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

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

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

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

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

and she did it fucking beautifully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did you do okay?!” you gawked.

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

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

you both giggled uncontrollably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

the two of you sniffled and nodded.

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

“no keep doing it!—”

“it’s funny please!—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the consequences were too drastic— you both knew that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

akira smoothly traveled over to you both.

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

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

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

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

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

akira smirked.

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

“are we— are we—” you stammered.

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

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

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

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

satoru pouted. “no.”

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

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

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

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

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

but he knew damn well what it was.

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

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

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

satoru swallowed, nodding.

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

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

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

“…toru?”

he blinked down at you. “huh?”

“you okay?”

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

“you sure—”

“what time is your date?”

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

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

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

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

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

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do to—”

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

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

“aakkiii!—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

akira sighed.

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

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

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

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

so why were you going on a date?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… no.”

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

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

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

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

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

“it is sweets!” he agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“big and strong and pretty—”

“please don’t go.”

you stilled.

“what?”

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

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

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

“why?”

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

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

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

and you hoped to god he would say it.

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

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

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

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

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

“i don’t want to.”

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

but you were absolutely stupid for that.

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

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

that’s all you needed… just satoru.

regardless if there was something more in question.

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

“you know why, toru…”

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

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

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

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

satoru stuck his pinky finger out towards you then.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured.

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

“birds of a feather.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

until akira’s accident.

“oh my god i’m gonna throw up—”

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

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

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

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

“not as much as i love you—”

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

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

“now i’m gonna cry and throw up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and there was so much blood.

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

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

“i— i don’t know—”

“aki!”

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

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

“you need to stay out of the rink—”

“fuck you!”

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

akira died at the hospital later that night.

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

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

and you and satoru were fucking ruined.

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

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

your aunt was gone. your own blood.

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

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

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

“yes pretty.”

“this is so fucked.”

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

“diabolically fucked.” he responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, gleaming up at him.

“is this a prank?”

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

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

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

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

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

was he about to…?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he stopped chewing.

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

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

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

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

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

my god.

you were about to turn him into a freak.

“okay now you have to kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

“you should.”

“can you forgive me?”

“not unless you kiss me.”

“toru!”

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

you gnawed at your bottom lip in thought.

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

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

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

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

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

his eyes widened.

holy shit.

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

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

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

you both couldn’t believe it.

you were about to have your very first kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you taste like chocolate.” he grinned.

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

“twins.”

“uh huh.”

“i love you.”

you stilled.

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

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

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

“i love you.” you responded.

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

“can i get another s’more—”

“no!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

his heart softened, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“a spin?” he asked. “how sweets.”

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

“and then from there i catch you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he loved doing things for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck i know right.” you responded.

“language, y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your head whipped in his direction.

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

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

“fuck!—”

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

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

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

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

“but you seem fine when i throw up?”

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

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

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

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

he stiffened again.

“no.” he answered softly. “why..?”

you lazily grinned.

“youuu suureee?”

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

“please spare me please spare me—”

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

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

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

“i was lying for my safety.”

“uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what happened?

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

but he was out of it.

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

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

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

“yes you do—”

“absolutely not—”

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

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

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

“do— do what?”

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

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

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

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

he needs to kiss you right fucking now.

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

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

“i swear i swear i swear—”

“okay then fuck me toru please—”

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

you still tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

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

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

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

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

“open your mouth.”

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

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

“mhm.” you moaned.

your arousal was even sweeter.

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

you gasped. “what?”

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

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

his cock pulsed.

“patience sweets, i wanna taste you first.”

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

“wait toru isn’t this uncomfortable i—”

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

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

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

“toru—”

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

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

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

“too bad!”

“but—”

he spit on your cunt and you gasped.

“i said too bad.”

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

“yummy.”

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

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

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

“i— um—”

he placed his lips next to your ear.

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

“both toru please—”

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

“i can do both!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank god his mother wasn’t home.

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

“yeah?” pant “f—for how long baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

“but m’not on the pill—”

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

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

what a stupid thought.

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

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

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

he suddenly raised his pinky to you.

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

“birds of a feather.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

he was so sick of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you made figure skating look beautiful.

you were beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru was so kind.

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

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

“please stick your tongue in my mouth.”

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

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

“what are we.”

you froze.

“huh?”

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

“we’re— we’re friends toru—”

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

“w—well we can’t—”

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

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

“i’m your man.”

“no you’re not—”

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

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

he shook his head. “we won’t.”

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

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

“it— it is—”

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

you blinked back tears.

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

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

“but— skating—”

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

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

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

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

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

��it hurts me too.”

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

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

except it wasn’t dark at all.

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

silly.

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

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

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

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

until the moment was here. happening.

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

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

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

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

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

satoru frowned.

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

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

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

you laughed lightly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

he held it out for you cutely on his palm.

“does this one match?”

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

“oh my goodness— thank you toru!”

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

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

“does they look okay?”

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

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

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

“toru!” you giggled. “not now!”

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

you stuck your pinky out.

“birds of a feather?”

satoru grinned and looped his pinky with yours.

“birds of a feather baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

except satoru’s hands were slippery.

why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“baby?“ he shook you. “hey— baby—”

nothing.

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

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

and why was there so much blood?

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

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

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

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

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

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

no.

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

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

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

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

“help—” hic! “h—help me please—”

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

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

were you gone?

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

were you breathing? had you hit your head?

he couldn’t remember.

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

in front of him. taunting him.

was the world so cruel as to take you too?

it wouldn’t. it couldn’t.

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

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

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

you were knocked out for five days at the hospital.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you had lost so much, too much of it.

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

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

he shook his head no silently.

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

satoru smiled weakly and shook his head again.

“m’fine.”

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

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

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

satoru had brought a roll of pink ribbon from your little white box in your room, unrolling the pieces he chose and lifting his hands, taking the ends of your hair and trying to tie little thin bows the way you always did, but huffing softly in irritation when they just looked like shit.

he undid the one he was working on and settled for feeling the material of the ribbon between his thumbs instead.

satoru brought you bouquets everyday too.

sometimes three at a time as he continuously swapped out old flowers and replaced them with new ones, changed their water and poured fresh quantities into each vase to keep them alive, and often picked some more from the hospital garden when he went down to get some fresh air for a minute— the least he could do for nearly killing you.

and satoru had a lot of time to think while he waited for you to wake up— bitter and resentful at the world for letting him sit there healthy while you were out, so much so that he started thinking stupid shit like how he wished you would’ve forgotten him and dismissed his yapping dreams about ice skating when you met so you would’ve been an independent skater instead, so you then wouldn’t have gotten hurt by his idiocy and you wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed like you were now.

or swapped places. him instead of you so he could beat up the fucks that took akira away and beat up zeus or— or aphrodite or whoever the fuck that was responsible for keeping him from you so he could come back to you�� unsure if you were doing the same thing as he stared at your resting face.

you should’ve just left him behind.

but he was sleeping when you woke.

arms propped up and crossed next to you on the hospital bed, his cheek mushed up on them and face to the side as you blinked your eyes open and was straight up confused, not a single memory of the incident flitting through your mind… until it did.

and it hit you bad.

your mind reeled with a pounding headache, tears prickling your eyes at the events that plagued through your mind— a part of you knowing there was absolutely no way you and satoru made top three and gutted about it, feeling shaken from the memory alone of you falling and hitting the ice.. but grateful.

grateful to be alive, for you knew akira wasn’t as lucky.

was it because of her that you had lived? had she pulled some strings to change your fate?

your eyes trailed down to a sleeping peaceful satoru, your gaze softening at how tired and broken he looked, bags dark and purple as he snored away next to you, your hand lifting and delicately settling over his fluffy white hair as you smiled that he was here next to you— caressing.

satoru shot up wide awake then as you jumped and retracted your hand, the both of you alarmed and frantic.

“baby?” he grabbed your hand and felt around it, feeling warmth for once as he stood up straight and shoved back one of the sleeves of his hoodie.

“you’re awake? are you actually?—” he pinched his arm hard over and over and you giggled.

you giggled— the sound filling his ears and lifting an undeniable dark ton off of his shoulders as he relaxed, tears automatically brimming his eyes.

“i thought i fucking killed you sweets.” his voice shook, arms gently coming around you and pulling you into an embrace.

“killed me?” you frowned. “toru what are you talking about—”

“oh god you have amnesia—”

“no!” you laughed. “what do you mean by almost killed me? you didn’t do anything.”

“i did everything.” he spoke flatly. “i fucked up that lasso lift. i pushed you up too hard and we fell. i cut you with my blade i made you bleed—”

“toru that was an accident.” you pulled back and your chest hurt over the devastated look on his face, wiping his tears and kissing his nose. “remember— aki’s partner felt just like this and we had to tell him too it was an accident. you can’t control something like that. at all. it’s just unfortunate circumstance.”

“i know but i still feel like—” he wiped his eyes and swallowed. “i still feel like i could’ve done something different. it should’ve been me and not you and i should’ve—”

“toru don’t even don’t think about things like that.” you shook your head. “there wasn’t anything you could’ve done, baby. and that’s okay.”

you gently scooched over on the bed and patted the spot next to yours, satoru immediately climbing and settling in, clinging on to you as he placed his head on your chest with his arm firm but careful around your waist, suddenly feeling how exhausted he actually was from the days he spent restless.

you couldn’t have imagined the pain satoru must’ve gone through waiting for you to wake up. you didn’t know how he even fucking managed as you would’ve been torn into bits and pieces not knowing if he was going to live or not, looking at his limp bloody body the way he had to look at yours and it reminding you of the event that brought you both the most trauma and grief.

you couldn’t believe you almost went out the same way.

satoru confirmed your thoughts later and filled you in on the results of the international skating union competition, rubbing salt into the wound a little more upon learning that you landed fourth, nearly there as you couldn’t help but cry a bit in your hospital bed when he told you that you could’ve had a spot, satoru hugging you and reassuring you that you’d both have your shot at it in the next four years.

your family was relieved that you were awake, tons of people piling in and giving you sweets and food that satoru hungrily eyed and gawked over, you laughing and passing him the ones he particularly enjoyed most as you conversed with your relatives.

and recovery was thankfully easy— doctors orders being just you taking it light and being careful not to bonk your head against anything, as well as taking care of the laceration on your leg— changing the bandage frequently every morning and night, satoru insisting he help you with that and with many other things that you needed as he tried to make up for what he still thought was his fault.

two weeks had gone by of just rest and peace and no figure skating, thinking you and satoru deserved this break, but also secretly petrified of stepping on the ice again after what had happened— neither of you wanting to hurt the other as you avoided the topic of training for the meantime at all costs.

“maybe we should work at a water park.” you suggested one day, the two of you seated on a park bench through the chilly mid january air as you shared a plate of chocolate drizzled strawberries you got from some nice lady and her fruit stand. “be lifeguards!”

“oh hell no!” he spoke with his mouthful before swallowing, readjusting the black round sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “you think i’m gonna be fine with watching random old men savoring after my wife in her little red bikini while i’m off saving some drowning kid? oh no thank you. let the kid drown.”

“toru!” you laughed, smacking his shoulder. “okay then what else?”

“janitors.”

you shrugged. “i like to clean. sometimes.”

“and your entire body is covered in those jumpsuits no stinky old men looking at—”

satoru’s phone buzzed against his jeans and he paused and pulled it out as you giggled, him barely glancing at the caller i.d before answering.

“hello?”

you mindlessly carried on plopping strawberries in your mouth and chewing.

“this is he…. oh hello! yes! how are you?”

you eyed satoru quizzically at his sudden formal change in tone, his eyes glued to the cement below.

“uh huh… really? o—okay! no yes for sure! thank you so much for the opportunity!”

opportunity?

you slowed your chewing and nudged his shoulder gently, wanting him to give you some kind of sign as to who it was on the other line.

“okay, we’ll keep in touch! thank you again!”

satoru slowly removed his phone away from his ear as the other line went dead, staring at his screen and you curiously leaning over only to see his call history log, a random number at the top.

“holy fuck.”

“what?!” you leaned in closer and tried to catch his eyes with yours, his shocked wide gaze slowly flittering to your face.

“that was the national olympic committee.”

you froze.

“shut the fuck up.” you covered your mouth. “toru what did they say what did they say—”

“one of the pairs that made it in the top three got disqualified.” he spat out quickly, shooting up and digging his fingers into his hair as he walked back and forth slowly in disbelief, spinning to face you. “i— i don’t know why i didn’t ask but we got bumped up.”

silence.

���we—” your chest rose and fell erratically, eyes darting around as satoru knelt down and grabbed your hands.

“baby we made it.” he tightened his grip. “we’re competing in the olympics—”

you squealed and jumped up and down and pulled satoru in, the both of you comically bouncing off the walls as you wailed and cried and blabbered on about how you couldn’t believe it and how a chance like this was even given to you, satoru lifting you and spinning you around but stopping and freaking out and apologizing profusely over your injured leg, you shaking your head and laughing, kissing him in return.

“we can’t avoid skating toru.” you spoke once you and him had settled down. “it’s literally what brought us together… and what brought us to aki. and even from you spinning me around like that it reminded me how much i missed skating with you.”

“i feel the same sweets.” he smiled, big and bright and handsome as he leaned over and kissed your rosy cheek. “i miss lifting you up and catching a glimpse of your ass underneath your—”

“toru!”

even though you and satoru were finally on board and accepting of bringing skating back into your lives, it wasn’t to say at all that the fear itself went away when you tried to do lifts or spins in the air with each other— apprehensive and scared as you practiced on the mats way more than necessary before moving choreography to the ice, satoru multiple times chickening out and needing a moment as he was petrified of hurting you again, and you glued in place at the thought of falling and slamming on the ground when you had just survived mostly unscathed.

but this wasn’t the time to be afraid over that anymore, and if akira were here, you both knew she’d smack you upside the heads and tell you to move… to get on the ice and do the sport you both loved and cherished most.

to finalize your dream and make it a reality.

and throughout the month that you and satoru spent before the commencement of the olympics, you trained like never before— no excuses as you worked tirelessly day and night with sweat literally dripping from your faces until every single goal was met and beyond, until every single throw from satoru was perfected and until every axel from you was delivered.

sometime during this month too, satoru finally got to take you out on that romantic candle lit dinner like he promised and asked you to be his girlfriend, him giddy and grinning the whole time and literally spoiling the moment as he meant to give you a chocolate dessert plate that said ‘will you be mine’ in chocolate syrupy letters, but accidentally eating it and smearing the words when he confused your plate with his, smacking his forehead repeatedly on the dining table as the silverware clattered— muttering about how dark it was and how he couldn’t fucking see, but you laughing so fucking much and clutching your stomach that your makeup smudged up at the corner of your eyes.

satoru was reminded again how much he loved you that day, because anyone else would’ve gotten tremendously annoyed and called him an idiot, but you…

you just giggled. giggled and hiccuped like always while he stared at you softly.

the love you and satoru shared stretched far beyond the concepts of what a platonic and romantic relationship was.

the love you and satoru shared was sacrifice. genuine sacrifice and yearn and absolute unadulterated love as you both without another thought would drop your careers for each other, would swap places if it meant the other would be safe from harm’s way, and would endure years of swallowing and pushing back feelings if it meant just keeping one another in your lives forever.

because that’s what birds of a feather was for to begin with.

a promise to stick together. a promise to keep each other safe.

a concept so pure and devoted that it translated onto the ice like no other pair when it came time for the olympics.

“you ready sweets?” satoru breathed out as you both stood in front of each other by the outside of the rink with interlaced fingers, shaking each other’s jitters out. “no matter what happens, we’ve already come so far and done so much, okay? we’ve done what we needed to do.”

“mhm!” you quickly nodded, satoru leaning down before you both rested your foreheads against each other’s with massive smiles on your faces, thunderous cheers echoing throughout the giant arena totally drowned out in your ears as you stared into satoru’s sparkling blue eyes.

“make aki proud.” you repeated softly, and he nodded, you hoping once again she was watching over you both.

you both stuck your pinkies out at the same time and looped them together.

“birds of a feather?” satoru beamed.

“birds of a feather.”

and you kissed your thumbs before sealing your promise.

you both watched the pair that you were going right after perform their routine, beautiful and difficult as you gnawed at your bottom lip in distress.

“toru…”

“yeah baby?”

“some of these pairs are crazy good…” you spoke over the music. “i’d honestly be happy with getting in the top twenty i don’t know if we can—”

satoru scoffed and shook his head, a sly smile as he looked over the rink with his arms crossed.

“nah, we’d win.”

and just like akira had done in her final olympic year— in her final moments, you and satoru made it known that it was your debut, that you had been hungry and desperate for this moment since the ages of six and seven, that you’d been raised and trained by a four-time olympic gold medalist for a decade as you executed the most technical and intricate moves and turns, you and satoru moving as one on the ice and identical as he took your hands and glided on the ice with you, raw emotion in your expressions that read love so clearly that it was impossible to miss.

with each lift, with each time satoru took you in his arms and spun, and with each time he simply held you close and tenderly to his chest as his blades scrapped across the ice with your pretty bows in his view— were all reminders for the two of you that partner figure skating was nothing without satoru and nothing without you.

the privilege of having another way to convey just how much you loved each other through the language of artistic expression and skates and ice, through the feel of each other’s skin, was one you nurtured and looked after and loved as the wind whipped through you and satoru due to the speed of your skates, performing quadruple axels like nothing while dropping the jaws of other figure skating pairs.

and because of this fact alone, how you both truly appreciated each other’s entities and had the indescribable power to correlate that into competitive sport—

was the reason why you and satoru won gold that day.

you and him, on your knees, gripping and hugging one another so hard and crying tears of joy as you both had come so far and gone through so much to get to where you were now, your dream now a complete and total reality as you stepped up onto that podium during the medal award ceremony just like akira had done— representing your country excellently with a big fat gold medal hung over your necks and a big fat kiss from satoru as he lip locked with you up there, flashings of cameras and bouquets and teddy bears scattered all throughout the ice in dismay.

“i love you!” satoru yelled to you over the roaring as you waved at the crowd, your mothers crying and blowing their noses and taking pictures from the edge of the rink as you and satoru cackled and pointed at them.

“i love you, toru!”

“no like seriously!” he put his waving hand down. “i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. thank you for recognizing that i have love and dreams too baby and for not forgetting about me even when i’ve been the most annoying dipshit of your life.”

“you’ve never been that to me my god toru! where is this coming from?” he hopped off the podium once you two were given the all clear and he held a helping hand out for you to take, you doing so and carefully stepping down.

“reeaally?” he cheesed, cheeky and silly as his big pearly white smile made your cheeks flush. “so you love me then?”

“i literally would not be with you if i didn’t—”

“hooray!” he cheered, throwing his arms up as flower petals flew from his bouquets and around. “my girlfriend loves me! and we’re gonna have rough passionate olympian sex in our hotel room—”

“toru!—”

the love you and satoru shared wasn’t something silly like ‘i like you, you like me.’

it was call me when you get home.

have you eaten yet?

here, let me help you.

whatever you need.

yours and satoru’s souls were exactly the same— blended, intertwined, and stubbornly knotted together as no amount of tug and pull could unravel you both apart, satoru finding over the years that loving you was like muscle memory from the moment he met you, his nerves and reflexes gravitating him towards you on the ice that first time even when he knew there was a huge chance of him slipping and falling, but not being afraid of it at all as long as he just got to you, convinced he knew you in another life as you just felt so familiar the moment he saw your pretty little face.

and you’re so glad that he did get to you… that he stayed with you.

fourteen years of ice cream trips and sleepovers and horror movies from the moment you were teeny tiny babies to adults, experiencing the hardships of your teenage years of loss and grief, to then adulthood and college as you had the privilege of learning to navigate it with another being that was just like you, two little birds with no sense of direction other than to each other.

and it was all thanks to one woman and one woman alone.

“i honestly believe that if she was there, she would’ve brought one of those confetti poppers with dye in it and set it off.” you commented, you and satoru sitting on the grass at her grave site as you leaned your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours, having literally just come off the plane from being at the olympics— your countries olympic button up thick jackets adorning your figures as your gold medals gleamed radiantly against the sun.

“i wish she was there.” satoru hummed, and you nodded softly in agreement.

“me too… but i’m sure she was! as a little birdie.”

he chuckled, finding your hand and interlacing your fingers as you stared at her tombstone like you’d done so many times before already… except this time it was bittersweet, you having accomplished what the three of you had strived so hard for at last.

“i miss her.” you murmured. “i miss her cussing.”

your eyes flickered down to her peace offerings, the little snow angel trinket you had gotten her still pretty and glossy and her as it sat happily on her stone platform.

satoru picked his head up and kissed the top of your head, propping his chin up on it.

“i miss her too baby.” he responded softly. “everyday.”

“but— i can’t thank her enough for giving us the bullets to fire with for skating.. y’know..” you ran the pad of your index finger along her tombstone, rough and scratchy as you traced little hearts along the edges.

“and she brought us closer together, did she not?” satoru pointed out.

she did.

a woman who was clumsy and loud and erratic with the biggest potty mouth you had ever heard that was passed down to you and satoru in the blink of an eye… but man did she know what love was as she taught it to you and reminded you both of exactly what it was each and every day.

you and satoru had accepted the fact that your hearts would never be whole again, for akira had taken half of them elsewhere and into the depths of the unknown.

but you were okay with that. completely and utterly okay with that.

for love had no limits.

you wanted her to keep it, as you and satoru stitched the remaining halves of your hearts together to create a new whole, as there was no one else you both would rather have that part of you with them forever besides akira.

and yours and satoru’s stitched up hearts grew increasingly bigger and fonder even after a couple of years later, even after winning three more olympic gold medals, you and him back at the same place in front of akira’s grave like always, sitting and laughing and chatting— but with two little baby toddlers that were half of you and half of satoru as they blubbered on about ‘mama aki’ and her trophies, a delicate twinkling ring on your finger and a golden band around satoru’s as your little family had a picnic over her final resting place.

“papa!” your son exclaimed, satoru immediately turning his attention to him in the midst of scarfing down a turkey sandwich.

“yes my offspring?”

you playfully glared at your husband.

“why do your eyes look scarier in the day?”

“HAH!” you slapped a hand over your mouth to hush your cackling, satoru’s face absolutely taken aback and offended.

“they do!” your daughter giggled. “they do! they do!—”

“baby do something!” satoru whined, shoulders slumping as he threw his head back. “i’m being bullied by five year old’s!”

you giggled and kissed his cheek, his pout quickly turning into a soft little grin as his face flushed pink.

“but your papa’s eyes are pretty you guys! and they match yours!”

“mmm— nope! scary!”

your two twin toddlers giggled uncontrollably as they thought being mean to their dad was the funniest thing in the world, you laughing with them as satoru flopped back dramatically and completely laid down on the grass with his eyes looking straight up at the bright sky.

“s’okay.” he spoke flatly. “if even my pretty little wife thinks my suffering is funny i’ll just burn my eyes to a crisp—”

“toru!” you slapped his knee. “too graphic in front of the kiddies.”

“but my suffering!—”

“mommy mommy!” your daughter tugged at your sleeve and pointed to the top of akira’s tombstone, a cute perfect white and brown bird perched up on the edge and peering curiously at the four of you, the creature not alarmed whatsoever of your children’s sudden movements as they scrambled to get closer to it.

satoru propped himself up with an elbow and stared before you both locked eyes, knowing growing smiles on your faces as he fully sat up— leaning and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting it linger.

aki.

and it was like you and satoru were reminded again of your promise that you still told each other every day.

a promise that consisted of your years together… of your love, of your undying fervor of sticking together, of your need of keeping each other safe…

of birds of a feather.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire

[s0dium]

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘

A/n: For all my weird tumblr smut AO3 girls Synopsis: No one expects the weird girl to have such a good pussy. Warnings: Male whimpering, squirting, pussy drunk men, pervert y/n, unprotected sex

No one suspects the weird girl to be a perverted fiend.

No one suspects the weird girl who reads AO3 and Tumblr on the bus and has key chains of their favorite chibi anime guy. No one suspects the girl who fumbles over their words during a presentation, the girl who goes to classes in sweaters and sweatpants, the girl who spends her time daydreaming about fictional scenarios. No one suspects the girl who always seems shy and sweet, only to have a secret stash of explicit fanfiction hidden on her phone, the kind that would make even the most confident person turn red.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to have such good pussy.

So when the confident, smooth-talking guy gets you in his bedroom, how the hell is it possible that he is trembling from pleasure just from slipping his tip in?

"Fuck, I c-can’t—" he groans, his voice breaking as he stumbles over the words. His usual cool demeanor is completely shattered, replaced with breathless gasps and desperate sounds. His head is thrown back, neck taut, and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s trying to hold onto every ounce of composure, terrified that if he opens them, the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through him will slip away. Every time your pussy squeezes around his aching dick his body trembles uncontrollably, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves as he tries to keep himself together.

"Look at me," you coo, your voice steady despite the pounding of your own heart. You may be practically a virgin, but you're by no means an idiot. Hours of reading smut, scrolling through Twitter porn threads, and indulging in endless fantasies have taught you more than you'd ever admit. You've spent too many nights alone, lost in stories and scenes where you imagined yourself in control, learning every filthy detail in your mind until it felt like second nature. So now, laying here with him unraveling over you, you're anything but inexperienced.

He locks eyes with you, big and desperate and you cup his perfect face with trembling hands.

"You're mine tonight ok?" you whisper, bringing him in just enough for your breath to tickle his lips, your voice low and dripping with confidence you didn't know you had. "Every sound, every breath—your mine."

"F-fuck, y-yeah I'm yours" he groans, accentuating his words with a sharp thrust right into your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.

"Mmm!" You cry. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides in and out of you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making him let out a low groan of his own as he thrusts even deeper into you. 

“Y/n I-I can feel you doing it to me,” he says hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot makes your brain go fuzzy. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as he rams into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" He grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. "Because this is how we were doing it in mine." He felt good? Try euphoric. How could it be possible that pussy feels this good?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion he makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

And of course, no one expects the weird girl to be a squirter.

You don't know whats happening and you don't have enough to warn him. Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to him as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

He stills his motion and watches through wide eyes as clear liquid sprays onto his abdomen and you tremble and moan. As you floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breath came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"Why did you stop?" You whisper.

Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro

#weirdgirlpussy

[shawtuzi]

thinking about suguru and satoru eating your pussy at the same time heje

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine them both between your thighs, staring hungrily at your dripping pussy before gojo breaks the ice and thumbs at your already sensitive clit

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto soothing your little trembles by gently stroking your thigh, maybe even giving it a few kisses of encouragement <//3

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine both of the men using one strong hand to push your plush thighs open, exposing yourself even more to them. if you dared try to shut your thighs even a tad they’d be pushed right back open, along with a quick slap the soft skin curtesy of geto

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine the two friends bickering for a moment before geto finally caves and lets gojo have the first taste

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine gojo wasting no time spitting on your clit before wrapping his lips around it, tongue immediately caressing your sensitive nub. he couldn’t decide between roughly sucking on the poor thing or moving his tongue side to side sooo he settles on both! he hollowed his cheeks, holding your clit in place while his tongue continued moving with vigor

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto sucking on the soft skin of your thighs while his hand finds purchase on your bare breast, squeezing roughly every once in a while to keep you on your toes

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto slowly kissing his way towards your center before nudging gojo’s head with his own, giving the man a cheeky smile

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine both men looking up at you before—

“a-ah!!! oh my-” your back suddenly arched off the bed as you felt not one, but two hot tongues on your clit. one slowly moving up and down, like they were trying to savor the taste of your essence—not too hard or too fast….just sensual. the other tongue on the other hand settled on quick, harsh licks sooo basically the exact opposite.

“s’good right ?” gojo slurred into your pussy, now sloppily kissing his way down to your dripping hole. geto took this as an opportunity to cup your entire clit in his mouth, while his tongue drew soft circles around the nub. geto hummed around your clit, spit dribbling from his lips from the sloppy kisses he was giving your weeping pussy.

all it took was gojo shoving his tongue in your pussy for your back to arch slightly off the bed as you came with a loud, pathetic whine. gojo moaned just as loud when he felt your cum began to coat his tongue in little waves.

geto pulled away from your clit with an obnoxious pop! dark eyes admiring at the mess your pussy has already become. “lemme get a taste,” he mumbled, leaning his head down to lick a slow strip up your pussy. but one lick was not enough! and it wasn’t long before gojo got a little jealous and smacked geto on the back of his head, a small grunt leaving him.

“‘fuck was that for?” geto hissed, but gojo didn’t even bother glancing at him, his attention focused solely on your soaked center. his long fingers ran slowly up and down your petal soft slit, occasionally applying light pressure to your clit. without warning he plunged two fingers in with a lewd squelching sound following, “we’re supposed to be sharing don’t be so greedy, now let’s make her cum again.”

“j-just be gentle m’still a little— hah! sensitiveeee,” your request fell on deaf ears as both mens tongues were on your clit once again. they went from synchronized licks, to each giving your clit an open mouth kiss, to taking turns slapping your pussy.

you tried to keep your eyes on them but you could only handle so much before you head fell back against your bed, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “m’gonna put my fingers in sweet thing,” geto mumbled into your thigh, giving it a sweet kiss before plunging two fingers inside you. getos fingers began doing a scissoring motion, and to help you avoid the stinging stretch gojo sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

“i’m gonna cu-cum againnn, you’re gonna make me—” your body tensed as another orgasm washed over you, a much pleasing sight for the two men before you. “fuck she’s squeezing me real fucking tight, ease up yeah? gonna make it real hard for gojo to put his in too,” geto growled, curling his fingers in the most delicious way possible.

you whined something along the lines of ‘i’m tryinggg’ and gojo could’ve just ate you up the way you were being so cute. “hehe she’s so cute the way she’s trying to keep it together, just let go baby we’re right here to catch you,” gojo giggled menacingly, his two fingers slowly prodding at your entrance.

“don’t forget to go slow, don’t wanna hurt the poor thing now,” geto patted your thigh before giving it a sharp swat.

it took a little time to get you used to the stretch of four fingers inside your tight little pussy, but you managed like the good girl you were for them. “oh my fuckin’…” your mouth dropped as both men began to move their fingers at a semi-fast synchronized pace, digits bumping against that special that had your toes curling.

geto eyed your lonely breast and brought his free hand up to tweak at your nipple, gojo following suit. there was so much going on and your poor little brain could only handle so much before you were spluttering out nonsense making the two men chuckle.

“look at how wet she is….dripping all over the fucking bed,” geto groaned, pushing his aching erection against the edge of your bed. anything to find a little relief he’s only human. “she’s squeezing so tight i think she’s gonna cum again!” gojo moved his hand from your nipple to your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your thighs trembling.

you weren’t able to give them a verbal warning of intense orgasm, the only signal being being the clear stream of cum shooting from your pussy each time they pulled their fingers out. “catch some, but don’t swallow,” geto grunted, shoving gojos head down to catch some of your squirt in his already watering mouth.

once you were done they both slowly pulled their fingers out, a small whine leaving your lips from the emptiness. geto turned to gojo, his breathing uneven. “you know what to do,” he nodded his head towards you and gojo quickly understood, slowly crawling up the bed to where you laid, glazed eyes staring up the the ceiling with a fucked out smile on your face.

“open your mouth for him,” geto grunted squeezing the plushness of your thigh. you obliged and slowly opened your mouth, quickly met with the tart, tangy taste of your cum mixed in with a little of gojos spit. geto hummed happily giving your tummy a soft kiss, “that was fun, messy but fun nonetheless.”

the next twenty minutes were spent catering to your every need ofc. gojo having you between his legs, long arms wrapped around your waist while geto gently cleaned the mess up between your thighs. “did so good for us angel, thank you for letting us indulge in you,” gojo smiled, giving your hip a loving squeeze.

they both had raging boners but in this moment it was all about you but hey!! maybe once your rested up you’ll let them put both their dicks in you!! but don’t tell gojo that rn he might bust in his pants the poor thing :((

[oreo-creampie]

‘‘𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐧’ 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: demon!choso, choso goes into rut, overstimulation, dacryphilia, pain kink, anal/wrong hole (Gojo’s), pussy drunk, mind broken/dumbification, cervix fuckin, light size kink, hair pulling, spanking/some face slapping (mostly toji’s), biting, exhaustion, praise/degradation, begging/teasing, squirting, some thigh fucking, vibrating dildo, light bondage, on the verge of passing out (Choso’s), daddy(toji)/lil mama, gojo and toji are wearing ghostface masks (separate blurbs), ghostface!toji (morally gray reader), squirting

Oreo: ok so this took forever thank y’all for being patient, rip sukuna he will have his own one shot to shine on where we can get the proper cum shower, it’s the treatment we deserve

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

“Please!” Choso digs his black painted nails into your hips. His eyes roll back as he tilts head back showing off his hickey cover neck. His broad shoulders curl in with a tremble as he sloppily rut his hips fucking his hot thick cum deeper.

Your sloppy cunt squelching and your thighs trembling. Digging your nails into his abs, you keep bouncing yourself on Choso’s fat dick. Feeling his thick veins pulse, his cock head lightly twitches and his moans are getting breathier.

Your cunt clenches his throbbing, sensitive cock when a guttural deep groan of “Fuuuuck lil mama!” slips past his lips.

He’s so damn hot with his flush pink cheeks and his messy dark hair. His smoldering dark brown eyes fixate on your beautiful cunt taking his cock.

Choso slides his large hands up your sides, flipping you over onto his dark bedsheets. Your head hits the pillow and he grabs the head board with one hand, hovering over you.

He fuckin’ smirks, it’s a little upturn of Choso’s soft lips that has you clenching his cock. “Just ‘cause I came doesn’t mean we have to stop right?” He grabs your thigh hooking your leg around his slim waist.

His thrusts are sloppy, slow and deep, a shutter runs down his spine making his hips falter. The wood in his hand creaks and his jaw drops with a low groan.

“Can’t think about anything other than how wet n’ warm you are.” Leaning in for a soft kiss, you wrap both legs around his waist and slip your fingers into his hair.

Your body feels so heavy from exhaustion but you don’t want him to stop. It feels too good to have his warm, heavy body pressing you into the mattress. Whilst his heavy cock fills up your sore, sensitive and soaking wet pussy.

Choso mummers, “You can handle a bit more can’t ya?” Picking up his pace, your body jolts, your cunt spams and your eyes water when his hard cock head hits your bruised cervix.

Seeing the tears Choso softens his thrusts, restraining himself. “I’ve been so rough on her haven’t I? You’ve been doing so well, please let me help you cum one more time, we can do this lil mama.” He begs as if you aren’t fucked too stupid to answer him back.

He pushes your leg by your side and leans back to admire how your soft cunt takes his thick, long cock. Your soft lips wrapping around him, so wet, soft, and slightly swollen. Your beautiful pussy is such a pretty color against the paleness of his cock.

There isn’t an aspect of your body, expression and voice Choso isn’t obsessed with.

Steadily stroking your soft clit with his large thumb. “You look so hot cumming on my cock, please cum one more time?” He lets the headboard go, sliding his large hand over your beautiful body, touching you gently whilst wrecking your pussy.

Grabbing his hard, thick bisceps and digging your nails in whilst crying his name. “Nnnn! Choooohh!” Soaking Choso’s thick cock, your warm thick cum soaks the bed.

Choso’s smoldering dark eyes widen, “Fuuck make a mess on my cock lil that. Fuck I wanna!” His body trembles as he fights not to fuck you harder.

It’s all you can muster to plea, “Harder!” Choso flips you over without sliding out, wrapping his arm around your waist whilst holding onto your hip. Choso lifts you off the bed, holding you to his chest and stroking your clit as he gets off the bed.

He gently reminds you, “Remember to use the safe word if it’s too much.” Holding you by your waist he slowly drags his cock out till his fat head is tugging on your soaking wet cunt.

Choso pulls you back to meet his hard thrusts. Your body jolts as you cry out reach back and grabbing his wrist. “I love how soft, beautiful, wet and warm you are. N’ I can't get enough of hearing you moan, seein’ my cock sink into your cunt, stretching her out.” Choso roughly bounces you on his thick, veiny cock.

He groans, “Your sloppy wet cunt is as loud as are, so messy n’ wet after squirting so hard on my cock. Nnn fuck I’ve missed you so much, not seeing you all day is torture.” He reaching so deep, you swear you’re feeling Choso’s long, thick cock underneath your belly button.

You’re fighting to string a full sentence together in between moans. “It was ooonn’nnn! On-ly seven girl’s houuures Nnn fuck you’re so deep! Fuck!” He presses your face and chest against the wall, keeping your back arches with a hand on your lower back.

Choso leans down groaning in your ear, “I love hearing your creamy cunt talk to me. I think she missed me just as much.” He bites your shoulder softly whilst roughly fucking your creamy cum stuffed cunt, Choso slides his large hand along your arched back grabbing a handful of your hair.

Squeezing your hip, “You look like doll, all fucked out and limp.” Clenching Choso’s cock when he most in your ear. “I know she so sore yet she grippin’ me like she wants me to cum in ya again even though you’ve cummed six times so far.” Your cheeks clap, your cunt squelches and your legs give out the wall and his grasp keeping you upright.

Lifting you off the wall, and turning you around with slipping his cock our. Laying you on your back on the soft bed, “One more time for the last grueling hour I spent alone, even then then I don't want to stop.” Choso folds you into a mating press to watch your sloppy wet cunt take his pale, thick, veiny cock.

Your soft lips look so beautiful covered in thick white cream, a mixture of his and your cum. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, hold on just a little more, I know you’re getting tired. I’ll hold you while you sleep after I cum in you.” Choso softly kisses your forehead.

“She’s getting so tight. I wonder could your sweet lil’ cunt can cum while you’re sleeping.” His eyes shift from violet to a glowing pink. “Fuck!” His body shutters with restraint as he fucks you faster but not harder. “I know you can only handle so much, I should stop soon but-“ your soft cunt spams squeezing Choso and wrecking his train of thought.

You slur together, “don’tstopwanna help-nnnn with yourrr rut.” Thick tears drip down your face as Choso whines, two teeth elongating into sharp fangs.

You tilt your head aside and he kisses your tears off your cheeks. “That’s it beautiful, let it out cry from cumming so hard on my cock.” teeth in. Sweet pain laces in with the intoxicating pleasure of his cock filling your sore, soaking wet cunt.

You can’t move on your own, your body is too heavy. Your eyes won’t say open. He quickly pulls away, licking the blood seeping from the bite. You shiver meekly as he slides his large warm hands down along your waist and hips, grabbing your thighs.

He lifts you off the bed without breaking his rough, quirk pace. You feel weightless in his grasp as he wraps his arm around your waist. Softly laying you in the center of the bed, with your head on a pillow.

Sweetly kissing your cheek, Choso groans, “I’m a nasty pervert, obsessed with your soft thighs, pretty tits and wet cunt. I wanna fuck more cum into you.”

The softness of the pillow beneath your head, the coziness of the bed and the exhaustion from taking Choso’s cock is too much. The last thing you feel is his warm cum as you pass out.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

“Nn! Wrong hole!” It’s too late Satoru is in your ass. It’s a strange but interesting feeling him slip out, tugging on your ass. It’s a mixture of pleasure and pain that you want to explore.

“Wait,” your body burns and you’re grateful you are facing the bed instead of him. “You can fuck my ass.” He roughly smacks your ass, squeezing your sore, jiggly cheek.

“Fuck that sounds so hot, say it again.” He crouches behind you and bites your ass. Slipping two slender fingers into your dripping wet cunt, slowly stroking your g-spot making your legs tremble.

Grabbing his sheets whilst pleading, “I wanna fuck my ass on your cock till I can’t move anymore! You can cum in my ass.” He pumps his fingers faster and groans letting your cheek go.

Satoru licks the imprint his teeth left. “Good lil’ slut.” Slipping his fingers out, you can hear him noisily sucking them clean. Pushing your hips back when he glides his tongue between your lips.

Satoru admits, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about cumming in you since I saw you. I’m not gonna wanna stop with your ass, your cunt is begging for it.” Roughly hitting your sore cheeks with his large palm.

Satoru digs his fingers into your juggling fat. “Hold you wrist behind your back for me to tie together.”

He walks off to get silk ribbon and a vibrator which he holds up to show you. “Something for your clit while I fuck your soft ass into a gapping cum filled mess.” Smirking at you, with his white hair slicked back, a few stands hanging in his blue eyes.

“Let’s get a little kinky.” He looks so beautiful standing there, slim yet muscular build is so well sculpted. You want you run your hands over all of him. But mostly you want his long, pretty cock that stands up eager for attention.

A smile creeps onto your face, “What about some knife play?” He walks over with the silk and toy, setting the latter on the bed. The silence is crushing, making you squirm slightly.

He leans over yo, talking low in your ear, “With the nasty warnings on the smut you read in public told me what type of pervert slut you are.” Tying your wrist behind your back.

“I always wondered if you touch yourself while reading, or if it’s like foreplay before you masturbate?” Biting your shoulderand pinning you still with some of his weight. It feels good to have Satoru’s massive body crushing you into the bed. With his soft warm skin and hard muscules against you.

Taking a moment before you can respond in a steady voice, “Depends on how much the fic makes my pussy throb.” Satoru pulls away to laugh, smacking your pussy, smirking when you jolt.

Satoru goes to get a ghost face mask and knife, “Speaking of fics, one gave me a new kink, I already wear a mask all day so why not switch out what I’m wearing.”

He wiggles the mask, “I remember this one was mentioned in a kinkobter fic. I like having a whole month dedicated to being the biggest whore you can be. That is what it is?” He slips the ghost face mask on.

You decide, “Close enough, please come play with my clit n ass! I wanna be a cock drunk whore, we’re talking too much.” He points the knife at you, wiggling it threateningly then he slips the ghostface mask on.

Grabbing a bottle of lube before walking up behind you. You can hear the bottle open and lube squirt out. Glance over your shoulder to watch Satoru touch himself. He softly ruts his his hips with a soft whine as he swirl his slender fingers over his gorgeous cock.

You didn’t think you could find a cock so damn sexy till you saw Satoru’s. With his soft pink cock head and intimidating length. You know his cock is going to be addicting the l way he could softly stretch and fill you up.

Spreading your legs apart he lines his cock up to give your asshole just the tip. Whilst carefully rubbing your clit with the cool flat of the blade. The scary thrill of the knife near somewhere so sensitive gets your cunt dripping.

He slowly drags the knife along your thigh, grabbing the toy. With a click it springs to life. Satoru glides another inch in as he holds the toy to your clit, swirling it slowly.

Softly rolling his hips giving your sensitive, tight ass more, crooning, “You can handle it, can’t you?” Your jaw drops and your brows furrow as your toes curl.

You unable to answer Satoru, “I-I nnnn! Innnahhh! Satoru!” the strange pleasure of having your ass fucked along with having your clit played with is too much to comprehend.

Crying, “My ass! You’re! Nnn!” Satoru really is fucking your ass! The first time with your long time crush and it’s there! He’s going to be able to cum in you. The second it crosses you’re mind it’s all you can whine.

You’re mindlessly confessing and begging, your eyes stinging. “Please cum in me! I wanna feel your warm cum! I touch myself thinking of what it would be like to feel your cock twitching inside me before you spill. Please!” You sloppy wet cunt is dripping thick creamy slick down to your cock stuffed ass.

Satoru’s low breathy groans are pornagraphic.“I jerked off this morning thinking about seein’ my cum drip out of your pretty cunt.” He swirls the knife around your soft nipple. “The way I want to slut you out, objectify you then treat you like a princess afterwards.”

Rubbing the toy on your clit faster as he goes balls deep. He slides the knife down your stomach, getting off on seeing you squirm. With your breasts pushed in the air by the soft arch in your back.

He groans at the sight of seeing his pale pink cockhead tugging on your asshole. So close to slipping out, rolling his hips, his abs flexing as he drives his cock in deep with a smooth, quick thrust.

Your ass is getting looser taking his cock easier as the tense leaves your body and you melt beneath him. With your eyes watering.

Satoru tosses the knife to the side to stuffs his two slender fingers in. “Keep looking at me like that beautiful n’ find out what happens. Shit, I’ll wash up come back and wreck your soft cunt, fill you up twice.” He curls his fingers, fucking your softly squelching cunt.

Clenching his fingers when he finds that spot that has a overwhelming wave of intense pleasure overcomes you. Making your thighs tremble and your hips jerk back.

Satoru leans down, taking up most of your vision with his ghost face mask and his wide shoulders. “Cum, you can do it, focus on my fingers in your cunt, my cock in your ass and your toy on your clit.” Tears trickle down your face as you squirt on his fingers. Your soft cunt spams, as Satoru keeps his pace and fucks your ass harder.

The way Satoru growls, “Fuck me!” Shouldn’t be so hot in how feral, possessive and needy he sounds. “That it lil mama cry cause I made you squirt too hard, make a fuckin mess and scream my name. Nnnn keep looking at me like that and see what happens.”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

“I thought no one was home, I only meant to crash on your sofa then dip before sunrise.” Leaning over you, with his large gloved hand splayed on the wall next to you. “You’re not my normal type.” Holding the knife to your cheek.

Your voice trembles, “I know your victim type, I’ve been following along. I-I don’t blame you, what came out about everyone’s whose houses and laptops they’ve searched, is horrific.” You’re tense with anticipation. “There is a guest room, and left over food in the fridge, you can use my shower I’ll stay in the living room.”

“Ha, so you see it my way, they deserved it.” He softly drags the knife along your neck, leaning down invading what little personal space you have left. He’s so close, smelling of thick cigarette smoke and copper.

Glancing from his blood splattered ghost mask, to his large chest, his worn black shirt clinging to his pecs and abs. “Is there anything else you need?” A dark happy trail peaking out the bottom of his shirt catches your attention along with what it leads too. He’s shamelessly hard, his black sweats hiding nothing.

He drags the knife up your neck to your chin, tilting your head up to look at his face. “Depends does that offer have anything to do with the way you’ve been looking at me? If it does ...” He steps back to lean against the back of your sofa. He gestures up and down your body with his knife.

Ordering you. “Take your shirt off, your sexy underwear stays on.” Slipping your shirt and underwear off, he points down at the ground with the knife causing you to kneel at his feet.

Nudging your legs around with his boot, “Hands behind your back, use your hands and I’ll smack you across the face.” Softly dragging the knife along your bottom lip. “Such a pretty mouth, that little tremble in your bottom lip when you’re scared is hot.”

He holds the knife to your throat. “Do I scare you still?”He pushes his sweatpants down, letting his heavy cock hang out. He’s so thick, with two puffy veins and a fat cockhead wet with pre-cum.

“Yes, you could change your mind out of worry of getting caught but I’m too horny to think too logically.” His balls are big and look so damn suckable, looking up at his masked face. “I want you to fuck me like I’mma a slut.” He slips his boot in between your legs, and you cave instantly grinding your clothed cunt on his shoe.

Lifting his shoe adding some pressure to your cunt. “Like?! You’re nothing but a slut, grinding on me you’re no different than a bitch in heat. I’ll stuff your needy cunt n’ depending on how well ya take my cock, you might be mine be my new play thing.”

Setting the knife next to himself, and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Please I’m so wet cause of you, fold me in two, I don’t care if I walk tomorrow.” He groans grabbing his cock with a gloved hand, lining it up with your parting lips. Gliding his cock in your warm with mouth with a husky groan.

“Fuck this is hot, seeing you hump my boot while I'm fuckin your throat.” His balls hit your chin with each quick, gagging thrust. Whilst his firm grasp on your hair keeps you from moving your head. “For being a honest whore for I’ll make sure you cum.”

Cupping his large balls he pulls his cock out and slaps you. Straightening your face out with your hair. “I warned you, but that did feel nice touch my balls again.” Holding his balls while grinding your hips, rubbing your clit along the smooth leather.

You quickly plead, “Slap me again please.” He softly rubs your sore cheek then lands another sharp, stinging hit. You wince and moan, squeezing his shoe with your thighs.

Mocking you, “Slap me again please! You’re killing me.” Tilting his head to the side, the simple action with his mask on shouldn't turn you on so much.

He roughly pulls your hair and orders, “Keep begging me to hurt and fuck you.”

Stroking his cock next to your face whilst you beg, “Smack my ass till it’s too sore for me to lay on. Please daddy fuck me however you need to.” Pulling you onto your feet by your hair, shoving you over the back of the sofa.

Demanding, “You’re thinking with your pussy aren't you? What am I?” He smacks your clothed cunt with the flat of the blade making you jolt. Hitting your cunt harder with his gloved hand. “Tell me before I stop and go jerk off in the shower.” Slowly dragging the knife along your soft lips. You have to fight every urge to move so the knife doesn't slip.

“Daddy!” Crying as he quickly cuts the back of your thighs, so close to your cunt. Smacking your both cheeks before cutting off your underwear.

Moaning out, “Please lemme have your cock daddy.” Wiggling as he drags the knife along your soft cheek, blood seeping from the shallow cut. His covk throbs with the way you cry and writhe, the sofa and his body trapping you.

Smacking your stinging cheek, you can hear the cocky smirk in his voice. “You need me that badly lil’ mama?” Gliding his wet cock in-between your soft thighs.

Yanking your head back by your hair and leaning over you. “Fucking hell you’re a dirty slut wanting to be fucked by a stranger. Am I that hot, or are you that big of a whore?” His cock rubs yours lips and clit taunting you.

You’re clenching nothing in desperate need to have his fat cock filling, stretching and rubbing your cunt till you cum on him. “I can feel her fluttering, squeezing nothin’ when you could be squeezing my cock.”

Your head is against his chest, his so big. You didn't know his name and haven’t see but it doesn't matter. You want him to bounce you on his cock.

Begging him, “Yes please daddy, I’ll call you whatever you want! You can stop by and use my cunt whenever you want. I need to cum on your big cock.” Squeezing your thighs together and whining in fustration

He lets your hair go to smack your cunt till your desperately twisting your hips away. Crying, your body shutters and your cunt is sharply stinging.

You whine, “You’re so mean!” Your eyes are stinging and his hands are so rough when he grasp your hips. He yanks you into place and lines his cock up, nudging his cock past your lips. Roughly slamming his hips forward whilst yanking your body back.

He rasps, “It’s making you wetter isn’t it?” Choking you with a gloved hand and squeezing your hip. Lifting your off your feet, he’s holding you in the air by your throat and hip, effectively ruining any attempts to run away.

Rhythmically bounce you on his cock, using your pussy like a flesh light. Whilst angrily rutting his hips. It’s like he’s mad at you even though he’s the one who broke into your house.

You’re a dirty slut who folded at the first sight of his broad muscular chest and slutty waist in the clingiest black shirt you’ve ever see. Clenching his cock and biting your bottom lip. It feels good to be a mindless whore if this is what it gets you.

Digging your nails into the sofa when he croons, “What this? You were just begging for me to fuck you. Don’t tell me your lil’ sloppy cunt can’t handle my fat cock?” He relaxes his grasp but ruts into you hard, pouring his frustration into each thrust.

“I can! Fuck me however you want! I don’t care how angry it feels!” He lifts you off the sofa, grabbing your thighs, folding your legs and clasping his large hands behind the back of your neck.

“Angry? I suppose I am n’ it’s fun taking it out on your sloppy cunt. I’m reaching so fuckin deep, you can feel that can’t ya?” He rocks his hips harder bruising your cervix and making your pussy spasm from the intensity.

You can’t think with the way he’s fucking you like he hates you, bullying your sloppy cunt. All you can do is cream on his fat cock. He sneers “Really? You’re cumming that fuckin’ easily?” Your cheeks along with your throat burn.

Unclasping his hand from behind your neck, squeezing your thigh and stroking your clit. “Too stupid to answer already? N’ I just started.” Each stroke from his finger is too much, sending off a firework of intense overstimulating pleasure.

Fat tears roll down your cheek as you babble, “Too much! Toooooo much daddys’ cock ‘s too much! My clit I can’t! I wanna! Don’t stop!” It’s like you can’t come down from the incredible high of cumming.

He grunts, “There we fuckin’ go! Don’t want ya to get all shy n’ quiet on me now after you were humping my boot.” Stroking your clit faster, keeping the pressure the same. “Let’s see how many times I can make you cum in one night before you can’t anymore.”

Oreo m.list

[fairy-angel222]

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𐙚⋆.˚

The white haired man using his fingers to spread your sticky, cum coated folds while Geto’s fat cock stretched you out. Creamy white spread along his veiny length as he fucked into you nice and slow.

“Look at that. So fuckin’ filthy Suguru. Your cock’s stretching her so wide.” Gojo groaned, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your clit, smirking against your skin when you trembled with a whine.

“She’s real noisy too. Pretty little slut’s taking my cock so well.” Geto grunted, pace speeding up as you moaned and whimpered beneath him. Your back arching with cry when Gojo began to rub quick circles on your clit. Your vision clouding as you sniffled at the overstimulation. “Suguu— hmm fuckk. I c-can’t, ‘m sensitive.”

He’d already made you cum so many times, fucking into you while Gojo whispered into your ear. Driving you over the edge again and again and again.

“Awww. You’re sensitive f’me huh baby?” Geto cooed, thumb wiping a stray tear off your cheek as you nodded shakily. “Hmm ‘s alright darling. You can take it ain’t that right Toru?”

“Of course she can, can’t ya sweetheart?”

“B-but-”

“I said you can take it baby. So you’re gonna take it like a good girl yeah?” Geto husked, his cock twitching as you whimpered with parted lips. Your body being rocked back and forth with each of his hard thrusts.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. ‘S dripping everywhere baby.” Gojo groaned, eyes half lidded when he brought his face closer. Geto’s hand on the back of his head pushing him down into you. “Just give it t’ her already Toru.”

Gojo hummed, immediately getting to work lapping at your sopping pussy. Licking around Geto’s thick cock before swirling your clit into his mouth. Sucking at the sensitive bud with small moans of his own. Chin glistening with your slick as he buried his face as far between your puffy folds as he could.

“So damn sweet.” He grunted, hands spreading your thighs even further for both him and Geto. His tongue never slowing its torture as the other fucked you deep, hips repeating slamming into yours with a loud squelch. The lewd sound mixed with that of Gojo’s greedy tongue fogging both their brains and yours.

Your cries of their names getting louder as your stomach tightened, Gojo’s hard grip on your flesh preventing you from desperately pulling away from the overwhelming pleasure. “I can’t— nngh, ‘s too muchh.”

“Yes you can. Just let go f’us okay? Give us one more ‘kay baby?”

You felt your toes curl, your body beginning to shake as you let out a whiny cry. The stimulation to both your g spot and your clit fogging your mind as your sensitivity intensified. Tears staining your flushed cheeks as yet another orgasm washed over you. This one even more powerful than the last.

“There ya go. That’s our good girl.” Geto grinned, watching as you quivered in their hold as he sloppily fucked himself with your tightness. Slowly coming to a stop to pump you deep n’ full of his cum. Gojo basking in how much wetter you had become.

They both pulled away from you. Matching smirks on their faces as you tried to catch your breath. A small pout on your face when you huffed tiredly, “Meanies.”

[shycoconutt]

“S–hic–so full, Ken,” you whimper as the last ropes of his cum spill out into your insides. You have never felt a sensation like this before, being absolutely filled to the brim with all of what Nanami Kento has to offer.

You feel the deep hum Nanami lets out in response everywhere–his overwhelming being currently consuming your own. Currently mounted over you, he holds you up by the plush of your ass so your hips are lifted to meet his thrusts. Your body is so contorted that your knees fall and press against your shoulders with every piston of his cock. How the hell did you even end up in this position?

“Oh darling, fuck, I missed you so much,” he moans as he languidly pushes his cock in and out of your sopping wet pussy. You watch as his abdomen flexes with every thrust, and you can’t help but marvel at how the low light of your bedroom reflects on his glistening, sweat-slicked skin. Eyes trailing upward, you soak in the constellation of freckles on his shoulders, the swell of his deltoid muscles, the way his damp hair falls forward, messy and unkempt after rounds of orgasms.

Another one of his moans snaps you out of your trance, and you focus your eyes to meet his blown-out, lust-filled gaze. Instinctually, your walls clench at the sight, and your eyes widen in horror when you realize it’s too late.

“Tsk,” he smirks as he breaks his gaze from your own to down where you’re both connected, “she’s so greedy, begging for more after all I’ve given her.”

One of his hands leaves your ass to swipe a thumb against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and clench again. “Should I give her what she wants, sweetheart?”

“I-I don’t think there’s any more room, Ken, you’ve filled me up so much,” you mewl.

His eyes flick up again as your words trail off, and you can’t help but notice how the intention behind them has changed, looking as if he has been given a new life–a new meaning. Reaching somewhere behind him, he fiddles around until he finds what he’s looking for–his phone.

Slowly, he shifts backwards to release himself from your gushing heat, being careful to not let any of his seed spill from your folds. He groans as his tip finally slips out and quickly grabs your hand to press against your opening.

“Yeah, just like that, hold it all in for me,” he praises. 

You feel your heartbeat quicken, curious and interested. Climbing off the bed, he stands off to the side and holds out his hand, beckoning you to join him, which you do without question.

“There we go, pretty girl, stand right here for me.”

Following his request, you stand before him with your hand still pressed up against yourself. You feel yourself tremble, not in worry, but in anticipation of what’s to come. Nanami must have taken note, because he is now grazing his fingers up and down the skin of your shoulder.

Leaning in close, lips ghosting over your own, he whispers, “Do you trust me?”

“Always, Ken.”

Your heart flutters as he smiles and kisses you, tongue slipping from his parted mouth to swipe your lower lip. With one final peck, he keeps eye contact with you as he kneels, light pooling into the room from the flashlight of his phone.

You hear a little ding, signaling that he is recording.

“Do you remember what you said to me, baby?” he murmurs, voice filled with love and adoration as he points the camera up to you while his other hand rests against your lower tummy. 

“W-what I said?” you stutter, mind trying to think back to moments ago.

“Yes.”

You try to think, mind still in a daze. What you said?

Oh.

Ah.

So this is what he wants.

Looking at the camera, eyes blinded by the light, you pout, “I don’t think there’s any more room, Ken, you’ve filled me up sooo much.”

You hear a soft groan, and the light moves down your body to your lower half. 

“Show me.”

Slowly, you remove your hand from your core, a mix of your cum and his already pooling at your fingertips, to place your hand above his own on your abdomen. You don’t have to look down to confirm���hot liquid is already dripping down your thighs at an intense rate.

You jolt and gasp when you feel his firm hand pressing into your body, a fresh new wave of semen spilling from your insides. There’s so much–maybe too much–as it trickles past your knees. There’s another groan that escapes from Nanami’s lips.

“Good girl.”

Your body is trembling, your pussy fluttering around nothing, just wanting so badly to be filled again and again. Would it be so bad to ask for more?

a/n: well, well, well, here we are again. what can I say? nanami kento is always on my mind. hope you enjoy! ੈ♡˳