#all of the love in the world / only to be with you / empty bench

[ramyeonzwithspam]

I'll Wait - Sim Jaeyun

Your best friend, Jake, picks you up after a breakup

idolbestfriend!Jake x f!reader (idolexbf!heeseung)

fluff, angst, best friends to ???

authors notes: first time posting on here, so im so sorry if the formatting sucks, im trying to learn!! pls be kind if you have any comments or tips!

!!not proofread!!

The wind bit at your running nose as you sat on the cold park bench, still processing what just happened to you. The love of your life, the man you wanted to marry, Lee Heeseung, had just walked out of your life. No proper explanation. No closure. No real goodbye. He was just ..gone.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, briefly warm before chilling in the bitter cold. You stared up into the night sky aimlessly. It seemed like when you had arrived with Heeseung, the sky was full of beautiful stars. But now it felt empty, void of that sparkle you had come to love. There was no indication of where the sky ended and the ocean began, the only real sign of the beach was the distant sound of icy water crashing on the shoreline. It was like the world around you had simply stopped, there were no cars, no people, no animals, nothing but you, the sky and the ocean. It almost felt like the world was giving you the space to grieve, like it heard your shattered heart.

After god knows how long, your silent world was broken by the sound of a car rumbling up the road to the beach. You processed the sound of a door slamming and footsteps rapidly approaching you, but made no effort to see who it was. Simply focusing on the shivering of your body and the pit in your stomach. You only turned to see the person next to you when you felt a warm jacket wrap around your shaking body.

“Jake,” you managed to breathe out between silent sobs. Your best friend, the one man you trusted as much as you had trusted Heeseung. There was a faint smile on his face when you turned to look at him, but there was a sadness in his eyes. You wanted to stop and ask how he knew, how he was even able to get out of the dorms and come get you. Usually their manager was too strict on the boys to let Jake AND Hee see you, it was a miracle they even let you date Heeseung in the first place.

“He called me. Said you would need someone to pick you up,” Jake whispered carefully, not wanting to upset you more, as he came to sit next to you. His body felt warm and comforting next to you and, without a word, you cozied into his side. Slowly, your sobs became audible, the reality sinking in with Jake’s arrival. At the sound of your violent cries, Jake wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. It felt nice, Jake’s hugs were always the best. It was warm and safe, the only place you felt grounded in the upside down reality that was this night.

“You don’t deserve this Y/N.. I can't believe Heeseung would leave you like this,” Jake muttered, talking to himself more than you. It shocked you to hear how mad he was at his own member. He had known Heeseung much longer than he knew you, but there was a pull between the two of you that couldn't be denied. But something about his words tonight felt different, strained, almost like he was fighting not to say how he truly felt.

As Jake held you, it felt like you were finally able to pick up some of the broken pieces. Your body relaxed into him, safe, warm, and loved. That was the only word you could use to describe how Jake made you feel, loved. It wasn’t a thought you could focus on now, but it certainly confused you. After an uncountable amount of time, your sobs subsided and you pulled away from Jake, looking him in the eyes again. It hit you then. Jake. Sim Jaeyun. Famous Kpop Idol. He was sitting here, on a freezing park bench in the middle of a random beach. All for you. He was here for you

“How did you get here? Why- What-” you sputtered, emotional and confused by the combatting feelings in your chest.

“Hey.. love.. it's okay” He interrupted, staring into your eyes with that indescribable look, “I took a car. I gave my manager no choice, this wasn't about me or the group. It was about you. You know I would do anything for you,” He finished as he reached a hand to softly wipe at the tear tracks left on your skin. A soft smile grew on his face as he rested his hand on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. That smile. Always that smile. There was something about Sim Jaeyun that could always make your heart flutter. You knew it was wrong. You had dated one of his members, he was your best friend for god sake. But when you stared at that smile, it was like the whole world melted away. You could forget about Heeseung, their managers, the fans, everything. At that moment, it was just you and Jake.

Jake let out a small sigh, “Let's get you home,” he said, standing up while grabbing both of your hands to help off the bench. As you made your way to his car, one of his hands rested firmly on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles across the fabric of your dress. Jake, ever the gentleman, made sure to open the door for you, and even went as far as to buckle your seatbelt, pushing down your shaking hands when you attempted to do it yourself.

The car, still warm from Jake’s drive, welcomed you in. You were quick to relax into the plush seat, smiling weakly as Jake closed your door and went around to the drivers side. It took everything in you not to curl up and go to bed right then and there. Though you knew Jake wouldn't mind, you still felt bad that he was here with you instead of back at the dorms.

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes half closed as you stared at Jake. Something about this moment felt so wrong and so right at the same time. You were heart broken, devastated, but Jake was here. Jake always made your heart full, no matter the situation.

Another one of his charming smiles spread across his face as he reached over to hold your hand, “Of course, pretty girl, I would do it a million times over to make sure you're okay,” he spoke with that twinkle in his eye again. Admiring you like you were a vintage painting, something so beautiful yet so fragile. Had it been another day, another time, you may have noticed a hint of something deeper in the way he watched you.

You don't remember much after that, just the warm, plush seat underneath you and the comfort of Jake’s fingers still entwined with yours. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt Jake steal glances at you, unaware of any meaning in them. The last thing you remember was the sound of Jake’s voice, saying something you couldn't quite understand as you drifted to sleep….

“I’ll wait for you Y/N, and when you're ready, I’ll be there”

[velveteenoutlaw]

🎧 epilogue

happy morston monday! i have an embarrassingly long morston playlist so here are 20 songs for epilogue era morston

🥀 track list

All of the Love in the World — Lily Kershaw Come to This — Natalie Taylor Ghost — Josiah and the Bonnevilles Only to Be With You — Judah & the Lion The Other Side — Ruelle Time Stops — Starbenders Torture — Liz Longley Muscle Memory — Lights Where I Lay — Lydia Luce Empty Bench — David Kushner Shrike — Hozier Fare Thee Well — Oscar Isaac, Marcus Mumford Over You — Marc Scibilia You Are The Reason — Calum Scott When I'm Gone — Shawn James Greenhouse — The Bros. Landreth Occasionally — Lydia Luce I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You — Colin Hay The Sun Still Rises — Aisha Badru Little Flower — Peter Bradley Adams

[chastiefoul]

—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham

a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.

that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.

-

 a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.

however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.

you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.

seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.

you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.

suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.

a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.

as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.

“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”

you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.

it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.

kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.

“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.

the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.

“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.

“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.

you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.

“yes, i do know.”

“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”

oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.

but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.

kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.

“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.

to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.

kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.

giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.

when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.

giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.

like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.

-

once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.

but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.

it was never, indifference.

---

the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?

[feralforfrank]

drabbles i found in my notes - instead of posting part two of the christmas thing i wrote 😖

simon riley x fem!reader

you're on the couch, mindlessly watching a tv show when the front door unlocks. simon walks in, and you barely lift your hand to greet him. he'd gone for a run almost an hour ago, claiming he didn't want to waste a perfectly cloudy afternoon. you opted to stay under your warm blanket.

you hear rustling as he shuts the front door, and that's what draws your attention. takeout is your first thought, but you would've smelt it, and you already have leftovers from lunch.

lifting your head curiously, you only see simon's broad back in the kitchen table. you can't figure out what he's doing, but you're too lazy to get up and find out, and so you stay planted on the couch, head turned in a weird angle to catch a glimpse.

when he finally turns to face you, your mouth opens, surprised eyebrows rise in curiosity. there's a batch of lilies on your kitchen table and another colourful bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"brought you flowers," is all he says when he approaches the couch, sitting by your feet.

he offers, and you grab them, bringing them to inhale. "why?"

he shrugs. "were pretty, and i thought of ya."

-

taking riley out for a walk is one of your favourite things, especially when it's just snowed. she loves running around the snow as much as you do. simon just likes tagging along because the park right next to your flat is empty and peaceful.

she's an obedient girl, listening to her dad and not tugging at her leash while you're walking. but as soon as you arrive at the snowy park and unclip her leash, she becomes the devil of tazmania.

you play tag with her, running around the trees, bushes, and the small playground. simon opts to stay seated on a bench hidden under some trees and watch you, occasionally snapping pictures of you — particularly when riley trampled you to the ground.

he's paying attention to his phone when an idea lights up your eyes. the snowball hits him square in the face and you cheer, not even trying to hide the fact that you're the perpetrator (not that there was anyone else in this park, moreso in his vicinity).

simon's beanie and mask are covered in snow, as are his eyelashes. his glare is non-threatening, yet intimidating as fuck. you smile innocently, but it falters when he stands up at once.

"yur gonna pay for tha', love."

fifteen minutes later, you're returning home, your jacket, gloves, and lower body are soaked. you sport red nose and cheeks and a prominent scowl, while simon looks smug under his mask. riley is just happy to be there.

"c'mon rudolph, i'll warm ya right up when we get 'ome."

-

playing monopoly with simon and his buddies is the worst thing in the world. torture, really. they all cheat! yes, even captain price, although he thinks he hides it well by putting on his thinking face.

kyle and johnny sit on the other side of your coffee table, price sits on the loveseat and simon next to you, peaning back against the couch. he has a huge arm over your shoulders, playing with the hem of your shirt every time you get upset with their shenanigans.

"come on, garrick! i'm not fucking stupid - you said a hundred and twenty the last time i came around. now you say it's a hundred and eighty, like i won't notice!"

"i'm not cheating! you're just hard if hearing!"

your eyes widen, mouth drops in shock.

"ha!" exclaims johnny with a laugh.

you point at him. "you should not even be in the game - you went bankrupt like three times!"

"uh, 'scuse me, bonnie, but as you can see i have money right here." he points on the spot in front of him. he has barely enough to last him a round.

"that's because price has been sneaking money to you. i'm not blind! simon, back me up!"

he takes a drag of his cigarette and shrugs, barely able to conceal a smile at your flushed cheeks. your jaw drops, again. that fucker is in on it.

"you dick! you're letting him rob the bank! you are the bank! ugh." your head falls on the table with a thud.

you hear price chuckle.

"you're all terrible," you mumble.

"you'll live," replies kyle.

you're stubborn enough to finish the game and be at least not the first person to lose. johnny ends up losing after you catch price red-handed giving him the money - you turned to sip on your drink for one second. simon is the next to go, but you end up losing to kyle. you shake hands, promising threatening to play again next time you visit his house.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 11: Free Fall

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 12 - Part 13

How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)

(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!

May 2025 

It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 

It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 

Except, the moment is here now. 

And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 

The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 

“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”

Another broken promise. 

The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 

The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 

Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 

Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 

“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 

“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”

Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”

“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.

All that matters is the game. 

Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 

***

Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 

***

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 

Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 

She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 

A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 

The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 

No. 

She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 

Louder. 

Stronger. 

No.

Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.

 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 

Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 

“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 

Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”

Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 

Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 

“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”

Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 

“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 

“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”

“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 

Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”

Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”

It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 

“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 

“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 

This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; knows that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same girl hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 

Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”

“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”

“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”

She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 

“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 

“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 

The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”

He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”

“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”

“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”

And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”

And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 

She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 

***

May 2033 

It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 

It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 

Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 

And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 

That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.

But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 

Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 

All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 

But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 

Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”

The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 

“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 

Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”

Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”

“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 

“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”

“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 

Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 

“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”

“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 

It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”

“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.

Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”

“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”

“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”

“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 

“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”

Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 

 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 

“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”

Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 

She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 

“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 

“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 

“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”

“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 

“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 

“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 

“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”

“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 

Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”

“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”

There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 

“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”

She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”

“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest

“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 

“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”

Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 

“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”

Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  

There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 

“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”

“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 

“Az-”

“He hates me-”

“He doesn’t-”

“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”

“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 

“Have you forgiven me?” 

The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 

“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 

Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”

The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 

“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”

Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 

And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 

***

Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.

Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 

“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 

“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 

Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”

Stephie pouts, “why not?”

“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 

“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”

“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 

“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”

“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 

“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 

“Ste-”

“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”

“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 

“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 

She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”

“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 

“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”

“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”

“Paige-”

“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”

She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 

“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 

“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 

“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”

My daughter. 

The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 

“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”

“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 

“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 

The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 

It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 

“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 

Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 

Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”

“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 

“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 

A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”

“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”

“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 

“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 

“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”

Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 

“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 

Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 

“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers. 

“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”

Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”

Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”

“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”

Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 

“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”

“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”

“Paige-”

“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 

“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 

“Drew-”

“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”

Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 

“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Snow Angel

Summary: Steve suggests a snowy drive through Hawkins that gets heated at his favorite overlook.

This is COMPLETELY self-indulgent, because for me, Christmas doesn't feel very festive this year. It's soft and sappy with two people very much in love. This is for anyone that needs to feel something a little extra for the season. ❤️ And since I couldn't get those pictures of that truck out of my head, enjoy some smut!

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: No use of Y/N. Pet names (angel, honey, etc). Fluff. Soft Smut. Slight fingering. P in V. Creampie.

WC: 4K

Snow fell softly, adding to the already six inches or so that blanketed the quiet little world of Hawkins. The forecast called for at least six more overnight, but you hadn't minded. With Christmas a few days away and nowhere to go, it was easy to busy yourself making dozens of fresh baked cookies for your friends and loved ones.

He finally swung open the front door in the early evening, with a shiver but his senses were delighted with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the air. Ever mindful, he quickly undid his boots and toed them off at the door, sitting them alongside yours and hanging his coat on the small rack.

A soft smile pulled at the edges of your lips when you hear him enter, taking the last batch from the oven before setting them on the cooling rack. He leaned against the door frame, with a low whistle, eyes roving over your frame.

“Have you been baking all day?” He asks with a grin, cheeks and nose tinted pink from the bitter cold, the soft knit beanie you had gifted him a few weeks ago sitting atop his head.

Turning to face him, you grace him with a beaming smile to match his own. The “kiss the cook” apron, dusted with flour hung haphazardly around your neck made a breathy chuckle escape him as he took a few more steps toward you, holding out a bouquet of red and white roses.

“What's all this for?” Removing the oven mitts so you could take them from him, lifting the flowers to your nose, inhaling the fragrant blooms.

“Just saw them and thought of you.” He shrugs, moving closer, until his hand reaches out to rest on your hip, pulling you into him.

You quickly maneuvered the flowers to the counter to wrap your arms around his neck. He was warm despite the frigid temperatures he had just come from.

“Steve, they're beautiful.” You comment, knowing that he hadn't just seen them. They weren't just supermarket flowers, venturing you to guess he had gone to the square to stop at the flower shop on the way home in this dreadful weather.

“Beautiful flowers, for my beautiful girl.” He smiles, wrapping his other arm around your waist and leaning in, until his nose nudges yours. You wrinkle at the chill, as your lashes flutter across your cheeks before his lips find yours in a soft, tender kiss.

He tasted of peppermints, the same ones he stuffed in his pockets every morning before heading into work, wrappers pushed back into those pockets that you had been emptying every time you washed his jeans.

You hummed, fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled away, leaning his forehead to yours. Slowly you open your eyes to see his golden brown, mossy infused orbs staring back at you.

“Got any plans, gorgeous?” He asks, fingertips running up the length of your spine and back down.

You giggled at the question as you answered, “Just spending the evening with you. Why?”

“How about…” He smiled, gently swaying you to some invisible song he alone seemed to hear. “You and I take a little drive. We can look at Christmas lights, and you can sit really close.” His voice dropping seductively at the last part.

Ever since Steve had brought home that shiny new truck, he had insisted you sit right next to him on the bench seat, making sure you were pressed into his side. His hand would either be on your thigh or slung over your shoulders at all times.

You were hesitant to say yes, eyes drifting to the window, worried the two of you might get stuck out in the cold if the snow continued to come down at its current rate. As if he could sense your trepidation, he cradled your jaw, thumb running soothingly along your cheek pulling your focus back to him.

“I'll make sure it's warm and toasty for you. Want to make some hot chocolate to take with us?” Eyes wide with a mix of reassurance and excitement, awaiting your response.

And how could you say no to that puppy dog look? The pouty lips and pleading gaze did you in each and every time.

Sighing softly, you nod, and he grinned immediately, kissing your forehead and reluctantly pulling back from your warm embrace to fish his keys from the front of his jeans and make his way back to the front door.

As he got dressed, you began making the hot chocolate, opting for instant because you knew Steve would be eager to head out. You left the water to boil, hanging the apron up and padding down the hall to your shared room to change into warmer clothing.

Flannel pajamas were exchanged for wool socks, jeans and a sweater, red to match his. You momentarily stop in front of the mirror to wipe a smidge of flour from your cheek and swipe on some lip gloss before returning to the kitchen just in time for the kettle to whistle.

He returns a few minutes later, waiting by the door, cupping his hands against his mouth to warm them up as you emerge to greet him with a thermos full of hot cocoa for your little adventure.

“Here, my little snow angel.” He says softly, setting the thermos down on the small table in the foyer to grab your coat, helping you into it, then taking your matching beanie and pulling it over your head, ensuring it was snuggly in place.

“Ready?” He asks, with a warm smile that reaches his eyes, grabbing onto the thermos once more.

“Ready!” Parroting with as much enthusiasm, as he opens the front door to the awaiting winter wonderland.

The snow was still falling, large powdery flakes landing all around the two of you as winter's cold embrace fought against your warm attire. The blue and white Chevy Silverado sat idling in the driveway, a warm safe haven ready to welcome you in.

He jogged ahead to get the door for you, waiting until you slid into the seat handing you the thermos before shutting it, briefly illuminated by the headlights as he crossed the front to hop into the driver's seat.

“Shit.” He breathes out, slamming the door against the frigid cold, watching a few flakes melt into the fabric of his jacket. “Warm me up, angel.”

He sweeps his arm around you, tugging you over and gently tucking you into his side, not a space between the two of you to be had. A giggle escapes you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, icy nose brushing against the underside of your jaw before his warm breath follows.

A few moments pass, before he sighs, placing a kiss where his lips rest against your exposed skin as he reluctantly pulls himself away. Utterly and hopelessly head over heels for the boy in front of you, hoping he can see it conveyed on your face when you lean in, pressing a soft but brief kiss to his lips. A dopey, lovesick grin graces his features when you break away.

“I love you.” He hums, squeezing your waist.

“I love you too, baby, but we can't see these Christmas lights if we sit in the driveway all night.”

He sighs again, knowing you're right. This was his idea after all but being this close to you always makes him feel dizzy. He pulls his arm away from you to put the truck in reverse and slowly eases out of the drive. As soon as he's on the main road, his hand is firmly planted on your thigh.

He throws the windshield wipers on high, fighting against the onslaught of pelting flakes melting on contact. The streets are empty, peaceful even, as the headlights shine a path ahead cutting through the snowy landscape. He takes it slow, rightfully so, as the plow trucks have turned in for the foreseeable evening since no one else seems brave or dumb enough to be out in this weather.

You turn off of your street and head north toward Loch Nora, the wealthy neighborhood that Steve grew up in. It holds both special memories and times he would like to forget but they always knew how to decorate for Christmas.

It's a quiet journey for the most part, passing the hot cocoa back and forth, listening to the radio at a reasonable volume, letting soft rock or the occasional Christmas song fill the comfortable silence. It wasn't long before he turned off into the subdivision, twinkling string lights illuminated the sign as you entered.

Bright, sparkling bulbs of all colors could be seen up and down the sleepy street, as he eased to a crawl, allowing you both to bask in the soft glow and nostalgia. Seeing all the houses lit up paired with him by your side, made your heart leap with an immeasurable fondness.

He rolled to a stop in front of a home tucked away at the end of the cul-de-sac that he recognized all too well. White lights in abundance, clean and crisp, not a strand out of place. Much like the sterile environment he had grown up in. Mrs. Harrington would rather die than ever have the gaudy multicolored lights. Calling the neighbors absolute fools for the mismatched catastrophes.

Your heart aches at the way his eyes drift over the exterior, with a heavy sigh. Christmas was a touchy subject with Steve for a long time, though it was still his favorite holiday. He was never allowed to help decorate the tree, it was a showboat, much like anything else the elder Harrington's did.

The first Christmas with you had brought the magic back for him. A fresh, live tree was picked out and brought into your home, decorated with mismatched ornaments from your childhood, multicolored string lights and tinsel. He smiled and laughed the entire time until his cheeks ached. Now that you shared a home, he enjoyed it even more, spending every evening curled up with you on the couch the entire month, watching a different Christmas movie when you could.

You take his hand, intertwining your fingers, as you look back over to him, catching the way his small frown transforms back into the smile he carried before, bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss.

He eased back into a slow drive, leaving that house in the rear view, making an exit out of the neighborhood.

“I've got one more place to show you.” He states with a hint of softness to his voice. “It's not far from here.”

“I'll go wherever you take me. We've got plenty of hot chocolate.” Holding up the thermos for emphasis.

You ease back into a comfortable silence, your thumb rubbing soothingly across his hand where you still grasp it. The road gets a little more snowy and the trees more dense the further he goes. The path winds and travels up until he reaches a small clearing, parking it with practiced ease and shutting off the headlights.

Out beyond you lay the town of Hawkins. It looked like a snow globe, lit up from the streetlights and jolly decorations as the snow fell.

“How beautiful!” You gushed, leaning forward in the seat to gain a better look, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the dash.

“Beautiful.” He uttered, looking at you instead, placing his arm back around your shoulders as you melted back into his embrace, kissing your temple then leaning his head onto the top of yours, muttering “I love you” into your hat.

“I love you too, Steve.” You echo, pushing away from him slightly so you could see his face, taking in the way the moonlight partially illuminated his best features. The angular slope of his perfect nose, the soft lines of his pouty lips, and the curve of his sharp jaw all stood out. His eyes drop as you take your lip between your teeth, studying him as he studies you.

He untangles his hand from yours to find your cheek, his thumb grazing along your bottom lip when you release it, causing your breath to hitch and your heart rate to tick upward as if you hadn't kissed him a hundred times before. Steve always had this effect on you, and you hoped right then and there he always would.

You both lean forward, noses grazing as he tilts your head just right for your lips to meet, closing your eyes. It was sweet and tender, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as if you might pull away but you reach up, gripping the front of his jacket to pull him in.

His tongue parts your lips, as you softly moan, melting further into him. He takes the lead, deepening the kiss, as it becomes hungry and heated. That familiar spark of desire shoots through you. His fingers trailing lightly down your neck finding the zipper on your jacket, tugging it down smoothly until your sweater comes into view. His hand snakes down, finding the edge of the woolen fabric, running his palm across your soft stomach, causing you to shudder, before ultimately landing on your hip.

His free hand comes to cradle the back of your head, as he pulls away to kiss a path across your jaw, nipping at your earlobe and finding the little spot below your ear that makes you gasp. He grins against you, sucking a little harder at that spot, his tongue then licking across your skin in a soothing manner.

“Steve.” You say, in that breathless way that makes him moan against your heated skin. You tug at his beanie until it comes free, running your fingers through his already disheveled hair to hold him in place.

His cock is already painfully hard, tented and straining against his jeans, groaning when you palm at his erection, hips grinding upward, pushing himself further against your hand.

“Need you.” He whispers, voice needy and strained.

“Need you too.” Replying as he parts from you momentarily to remove his jacket, watching as you do the same, tossing them both with reckless abandon into the floorboard.

He immediately grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap, chests flush, legs straddling either side of his.

He nips at your top lip, then your bottom lip, pulling back with a sly smirk, leaving you a little breathless and wanting before you roll your hips into his as he gasps, gripping you a little tighter to hold you in place.

“Not fair, angel.” He whispers, a soft mumble against your lips before crashing them into yours. You move in tandem, a slow and steady build, tongues dancing and gliding together in a messy crescendo of need and desire.

The cab of the truck is hot, suddenly feeling cramped with far too many layers of clothing between you, breaking the kiss to come up for much needed air you quickly ease off his lap, much to his dismay.

His pout turns into another grin, when you toe your boots off and he sees you unbuttoning your jeans, he starts to do the same. His buckle clicks open loudly, his deft fingers popping the button before unzipping and pushing them down his hips, leaving him in his very festive red and green checkered boxers, as you discard your jeans and panties with the growing pile in the floor.

Turning his head back to you, he sucks in a sharp breath, easing his hand down to rub against himself.

“Eager, are we?” He teases, taking your hand to help you back into his lap, taking up the same position as before, only the thin fabric of his boxers separating you. He presses himself up against your already soaked folds, hands at your lower back as his hips grind up, eliciting moans from the both of you.

His touch becomes more possessive and frantic, easing under your sweater, dancing up your spine and along your ribs, teasing the underside of your bra as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He watches with hooded eyes as your back arches you further into his touch, breath becoming more erratic with each passing second. He roughly pulls your bra down, cupping your breast with his large palm, kissing back down your neck. Your hands grip the front of his sweater, throwing your head back as pleasure begins to course through your veins, when he pinches your nipple between his thumb and finger a moan, louder than the one before is ripped from your chest.

“That's it angel, love to hear those pretty sounds you make. S'just us out here, you can be as loud as you want.” He says in-between peppered kisses across your bared throat, easing his hand down between your splayed legs.

His fingers slide across your slick lips, teasing your entrance. The moment his thumb brushes across your swollen clit, your hips jolt, eliciting another high-pitched moan from you.

“Need your Steve!” You cry out.

“I'm right here, honey. Right here.” He curls his arm tighter around your waist, inserting a finger.

“No!” You breathe out, as he stills his movements.

“No?” He asks, looking up at you with furrowed brows.

“Need your cock.” Pushing at his boxers, with a whine. He chuckles, removing his hand from you to grab your wrists but who was he to deny you? Not when you were perched on his lap looking like a literal ethereal being.

“Okay, angel.” He kisses your forehead. “Ease up for me.”

You do so, allowing him to push his boxers down his hips, his girthy cock standing at attention.

“Ready, angel?” He asks, taking in a ragged breath of his own, before you nod.

“Good girl.” He coos, lining himself up at your entrance. “Just take your time. No rush.” His hand eases up your thigh.

You start to sink down, jaw going slack, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes when his thick tip breaches, stretching you open in the best possible way.

“Relax, relax.” You hear him say, hands gripping his shoulders, releasing a deep breath, taking him a bit further into your tight heat. “That's it.”

You continue to ease down his length, with gentle praises mumbled breathlessly against your skin, until you're fully seated on his lap.

“That's my good girl, taking me so well.” He hums, wrapping his arms around you, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Ahhhhh! Steve!”

“I know, I know. You feel so good, angel.” Coming out slightly muffled, letting you go at your own pace, though it's killing him, cock twitching inside you as he groans.

Your pussy flutters around him, finally taking it as a cue to move, lifting your hips at an agonizingly slow pace, feeling every inch of him dragging against your inner walls, pausing before dropping back down.

“Oh, fuuuck.” He moans out, gripping your hips, as you start to set a more pleasurable pace, adding rolls with your movements, catching that wave of pleasure each time that thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubs deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The outside world fades away between frosted glass and panting breaths. It's just you and Steve inside the cab of his truck, safe and warm wrapped in each other's arms, connected in the most intimate way. Your bodies slot perfectly together, melding and molding, crashing into each other again and again in perfect rhythm.

Your tempo falters the closer you get to the edge of release, but he's there to catch you. He's always there. Your thighs begin to shake as broad hands start to aid in moving you up and down his length.

His lips part, watching as he disappears into your tight heat over and over, on the cusp of coming undone himself but holding back to see you fall apart for him.

Heated skin finds the frosted glass behind his head, shuddering as the cool pane meets your palm, leaving a perfect print before your continued movements drag it in indecipherable patterns, but a pattern that anyone outside would recognize.

“Gonna come for me angel?” He asks between labored breaths, feeling you tighten slightly around his shaft.

You quickly nod, too far gone to find your voice in the throes of passion. His thumb finds your aching clit, moving against you with measured precision.

That familiar heat rises up through your core, behind your navel, pressure building and building. Your whines get more high pitched, hands grasping at his sweater, wringing it between your fingers to the point that your knuckles have turned white.

He watches, with bated breath, steady praises stream from his lips, falling on deaf ears, your brain no longer registering the words. He sounds so far away but he's right here, beside you, under you and inside you.

The tension finally reaches a fever pitch, like a cork exploding from insurmountable pressure, your orgasm crashes into you with a blinding force, knocking you senseless. You clench and tighten around him, legs finally giving out, ceasing their rhythm entirely as you come undone.

He grips you, bruisingly so, holding you in place as he takes over, thrusting up into you only a handful of times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside of your needy cunt, giving you all he has to offer. He holds you to him, grunting out as his cock twitches with the last of his sticky spend.

Your chests heave, back and forth, shared breaths in the space between you as your heart rates return to normal. No words were spoken, your bodies doing more than enough to convey the feelings you both have.

A lazy, dopey smile finds you when he finally lifts his head. Cheeks flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes sparkling with pure adoration as a soft “hi” escapes him.

“Hi baby.” You grin, with a breathy laugh. The absurdity of such a simple greeting after a complete out of body experience. Your lips find his, soft and slow, relishing in the afterglow for a few more moments.

He hums, pulling back, still breathless.

“We should head back.” He muses, eyes drifting out beyond the window, the snow still falling heavy around you.

You ease off of his softening cock, redressing in the quiet space, the radio playing lowly in the background. You take your place, pressed right in beside him as he eases back out onto the main road, snow already covering your tire tracks from before.

It was a slow ride home but neither of you seemed to mind, huddled together in the warm cab. Conversation flows, making the drive pass in the blink of an eye.

Once the truck was parked safely back in the driveway, he immediately hopped out, turning back to extend his hand to help you out, sliding his fingers between yours, guiding you both into the house.

Coats and boots were shed, outer gear exchanged for matching fleece pajamas. You emerge from the kitchen with an array of baked goods and made from scratch hot chocolate just in time for It's a Wonderful Life to start playing, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“C’mere, honey.” He scoots over, patting the space beside him, lifting the edge of the blanket for you to slide in. And you do, handing him a mug, taking your own and leaning back into his embrace. The perfect end to a perfect night.

He brings the mug to his lips for a long sip, leaving behind a faint chocolaty mustache across his top lip, making you softly giggle before he turns, licking it away, his gaze settling on you.

His dulcet, sincere smile makes your heart flutter against your ribcage. Here in the twinkling lights and glow of the TV, a picture of what the future might hold was clear.

Steve had similar thoughts swirling around and come Christmas morning he hoped you would say yes right there in front of the tree.

[cumironi]

GENTLE LOVE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“loving you is the easiest thing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and comforting, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for you.

wc. 8,9k | m.list

it was almost midnight when you found yourself grumbling under your breath, cursing your two upperclassmen for dragging you into this late-night escapade. you tugged at the hem of your hello kitty pink pajamas, the fabric flapping slightly in the cool breeze that swept through the empty park. your hair, loose and free, danced in the wind as you shivered, regretting not grabbing a jacket on your way out.

the park was eerily quiet, the moonlight casting long shadows from the trees onto the pathway. as you trudged along, your slippers making soft thuds on the pavement, you finally spotted them: gojo and geto, casually lounging like it wasn’t nearing the early hours of the morning.

gojo, still dressed in his uniform, was sitting on a bench with an ice cream cone in hand, his legs stretched out in front of him as if he had all the time in the world. his bright white hair practically glowed under the dim park lights, a stark contrast to the dark surroundings. next to him, geto stood with his usual calm demeanor, already changed into his comfortable, oversized attire—a black sweatshirt and sweatpants. he had an ice cream cone of his own, and a plastic bag dangled from his wrist, likely filled with more midnight snacks they somehow thought were worth dragging you out here for.

you approached them, your face scrunched in annoyance. “you idiots do realize it's almost midnight, right?” you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your irritation despite the amusing sight of the two of them indulging in ice cream as if they were on a casual afternoon outing.

“of course we do,” gojo responded nonchalantly, licking his ice cream and ignoring your glare before gesturing to the empty space beside him, “come sit down and stop complaining already.”

geto chimed in, a sly smile playing at his lips as he took a bite from his own ice cream. “don't be such a buzzkill. you're here now, might as well enjoy the night air with us.” you had barely taken a seat on the bench when gojo's grin widened, his eyes raking over your hello kitty pink pajamas. he tried to stifle a laugh, but it quickly burst out, echoing through the quiet park. “seriously? hello kitty? aren’t you a little old for that?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he nudged you playfully with his elbow.

geto chuckled as well, eyeing your pajamas. “gotta admit it's pretty adorable, though.”

gojo leaned in closer, still grinning. “aww, look at you, all cozy in your kitty jammies,” he teased, pinching the fabric at your shoulder between his fingers, “you look like you should be tucked in bed and not out here with us.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head as he eyed your outfit with an amused smirk. “i thought you’d come out in something at least a little more... you know, grown-up,” he added, his voice calm but clearly entertained. “i mean, it’s cute, but definitely not what i expected from you.”

you glared at them both, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “well, excuse me for not having a runway-worthy wardrobe at midnight,” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. “at least i’m dressed for comfort, unlike someone who’s still in his uniform,” you added, shooting a pointed look at gojo.

gojo chuckled, patting the edge of his uniform blazer. “hey, don't hate on my style. this uniform's part of my charm.” geto leaned back against the backrest after he was taking a sit, still wearing that smirking. “more like a part of your ego,” he quipped, earning a roll of the eyes from gojo.

“oh, shut up,” gojo retorted, returning his full attention to you. “besides, you're the one who couldn't be bothered to change out of those baby pajamas.”

geto snorted at gojo’s remark, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “isn’t it past your bedtime already?” he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully as he glanced at you. you shot him a sassy look, crossing your arms and giving him a mock glare. “oh, please,” you retorted. “like you’re one to talk about bedtime. you’re the one hanging out in oversized sweatpants like a toddler, what are you? 2? at least my pajamas are cute.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head at your response. “touché,” he admitted, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. gojo snickered, watching the banter between you two with amusement. then he turned his smirk towards you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “you know, speaking of toddlers, with those cute little jammies, you're practically begging for a bedtime story.”

he leaned in closer, his gaze lingering on the cartoon kitties printed on your pjs, “you want us to tuck you in and read you a goodnight tale?” you groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes so hard you nearly gave yourself a headache. “oh, for the love of—stop it already,” you grumbled, standing up from the bench and making a show of sulking.

you started to walk back toward the dorm, but gojo was quick to act. He leaped up and blocked your path, a playful grin still plastered on his face. “oh no, you don’t,” he said, holding out his hand to gently stop you. “we’re not letting you escape this easily.”

geto chuckled as he didn't move an inch, watching the scene unfold with amusement. “come on, don’t be like that. we’re just having fun.” gojo's hand on your shoulder was firm, his grip gentle but preventing you from escaping. his smirk widened as he watched you pout with annoyance. “yeah, where do you think you're going? we didn't drag you out here to ditch us now.”

geto chimed in, still slouching on the bench. “you're stuck with us for a while still. so sit back down and enjoy the night. or are you just gonna sulk all night?” you groaned loudly, feeling the frustration bubble up again. “ugh, so annoying,” you muttered under your breath, stomping your feet as you turned back toward the bench.

gojo chuckled, satisfied that you were returning to the bench. he took his place beside you again, his arm casually slung over the backrest.

“see, that's a good girl,” he teased, his smirk widening, “no need to throw a tantrum.” geto rolled his eyes at his comment but still had that smirk on his face. “yeah, don't be such a drama queen,” he chimed in, enjoying the moment. gojo’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile as he held out his ice cream to you. “here, have some more,” he said, his tone a bit more soothing. “it’ll help with that attitude of yours.”

geto followed suit, handing you his ice cream with a playful grin. “yeah, we don’t want you sulking the whole night. we’re just here to have a good time,” he added, leaning back and clearly enjoying your reactions.

you took the ice cream from them, feeling a bit of the tension ease away as you accepted their offering. “alright, alright,” you said, though your annoyance had already started to melt away. “i’ll take the ice cream. just stop with the teasing for a bit.” both of them exchanged amused glances, their grins not fading. “deal,” gojo said, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “now, let’s just enjoy the night.”

you took a bite of the ice cream, the cold sweetness helping to calm your irritation. despite their constant teasing, you found yourself smiling, realizing that, for all their antics, they really did make these late-night outings enjoyable.

gojo and geto exchanged a satisfied look as they saw your mood gradually improving. watching your expression soften with each bite of the ice cream was like a victory for them.

“see, we knew the sweet stuff would mellow you out,” gojo commented, a smug smile playing at his lips. geto chuckled, nodding, “yeah, nothing like some ice cream to chase away the grumpy mood.” he leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “we've still got some snacks left, though. want something else?”

you took another bite of the ice cream, feeling your mood continue to improve. with a contented sigh, you looked at geto and shook your head. “i’m okay for now,” you said, offering them a small smile. “i’ll take the snacks later.”

as you continued eating your ice cream, you felt geto’s fingers gently run through the back of your hair, combing through it with a tender touch. the sensation was soothing, and you couldn’t help but notice how often they found little ways to be physically close to you, even if it was just a gentle touch.

you glanced at geto, his eyes soft as he focused on the simple gesture. you had come to realize over the past months that this was their way of staying connected—always finding subtle ways to show affection without overstepping any boundaries.

gojo saw the tender moment between you and geto, his hand in your hair, and he felt a pang of jealousy. he knew geto had always been more openly affectionate, but he didn't want to be left out.

without a word, he scooted closer to you on the bench, his thigh touching yours. he leaned in, invading your personal space, and feigned a shiver. “god, it's cold tonight,” he commented, his voice taking on a mocking tone, “you think i could share some of your warmth, princess? it's freezing.”

“you guys really are touch-starved, huh?” you commented with a soft chuckle, your tone light but acknowledging the need you’d noticed. geto smiled, his fingers continuing their gentle movement. “just a bit,” he admitted, looking content. “it’s nice to be close to you. we don’t get to do this often enough.”

you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through you. “well, as long as it’s not too overwhelming, i guess i can handle it,” you said, leaning into his touch and letting yourself relax a bit more.

gojo let out a mock gasp of offense, his smirk not fading. “did you just call us touch-starved?” he feigned a pout, raising an eyebrow, “we're not that desperate, are we?”

despite his protests, he was secretly enjoying the fact that you were acknowledging their fondness for physical touch. he leaned even closer to you, his body pressing against yours, “oh come on, admit it. you love the attention.”

you raised an eyebrow, giving gojo a sarcastic look. “love the attention? from constantly getting surrounded by a couple of giant babies? not really,” you replied, your tone dripping with mock exasperation.

gojo feigned a look of shock, clutching a hand to his chest. “oh, wounded,” he dramatically exclaimed, a smirk still on his face. “we're not babies! we're just, you know, physically affectionate.”

geto chuckled at the exchange, his hand continuing its gentle stroking through your hair, “yeah, we can't help it if we crave your company. you're like our walking, talking stress reliever.” you tilted your head slightly, a playful grin spreading across your face as you looked at geto. “so, am i doing a good job as your walking, talking stress reliever?” you asked, your tone light and teasing.

geto’s eyes met yours with a soft, appreciative smile. “oh, absolutely,” he said, his hand continuing its gentle movement through your hair. “you’re perfect at it. couldn’t ask for a better stress reliever.” gojo rolled his eyes dramatically at geto's response. “oh, come on,” he interjected, a playful pout on his lips. “don't hog all the credit. i'm a pretty fantastic stress reliever too, you know.”

he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him and away from geto. “can't have you getting too attached to just one of us.” you let out an exaggerated groan and rolled your eyes. “oh, please, don’t get all cringe-worthy now,” you said, wrinkling your nose as gojo pulled you closer.

you nudged him playfully, still shaking your head. “if you guys are going to use me as your personal stress reliever, you should start sending me some money for my services,” you added with a teasing grin. gojo laughed at your response, his arm still around your shoulder. “oh, so now you want monetary compensation for being our stress relief toy? how much do you want?”

geto, not wanting to be left out, chimed in, “yeah, name your price. we're willing to pay top dollar for your services.” you squinted at them, giving them a bemused look. “why do you guys talk like i’m some kind of hooker?” you asked, your tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.

gojo's smirk widened, “who said anything about hookers? we're just talking about your value as a stress reliever.”

geto chimed in, his tone playful, “yeah, you're priceless, you know. we'd pay a fortune to keep you around.” you gave them a disgusted look, shaking your head. “i swear, everything that comes out of your mouths sometimes sounds so inappropriate,” you said, your tone exasperated but with a hint of amusement. gojo chuckled at your disapproving look. “hey, blame it on our naturally filthy minds. it's just who we are.”

geto grinned, his hand finally leaving your hair, “yeah, you know you love it. deep down, you probably find it entertaining.” you rolled your eyes, reaching over to smack the back of their heads. “assholes,” you muttered, your tone more playful than serious.

after spending some time at the park, you thought the night was coming to a peaceful close, but gojo and geto had other plans. they’d decided, on a whim, to drag you out for a midnight hike up a nearby hill—while you were still in your pajamas.

you trudged up the path, feeling the chilly night air against your skin, your pajamas doing little to keep you warm. “this is my life now,” you complained dramatically, “i’ve climbed this hill, and now i’ll die upon it!”

gojo, leading the way, glanced back with an amused smirk. “shut up, we’ve only been hiking for five minutes,” he shot back, clearly entertained by your theatrics.

“yeah, quit your whining,” geto added from behind, his soft chuckle barely audible over the sound of your footsteps. “it’s not even that far, and you’re doing great.”

you shot a look back at geto, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “seriously, though? dragging me out here in the middle of the night when i’m in pajamas? you two are insufferable.”

gojo turned around, walking backward with a grin. “come on, it’ll be worth it. the view from the top is amazing. just a little bit more.” with a dramatic sigh, you kept trudging along, determined not to let them have the satisfaction of seeing you give up. “fine, fine. but i’m holding you both responsible for my inevitable suffering.”

geto’s laughter echoed in the cool night air as he followed closely behind you. “deal. just keep going, and you’ll see it was worth it.” the night stretched on as you climbed higher, and despite your grumbling, there was a sense of quiet camaraderie in the air. it was the kind of absurd adventure that you’d look back on with a smile—though for now, the thought of your warm bed seemed like the true peak of the night.

gojo continued to lead the way, his pace steady and his spirits high. each step up the hill seemed to fuel his energy. “come on, princess, don't complain so much. you're still in your adorable hello kitty pajamas.”

geto was right behind you, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your dramatic behavior, “yeah, just a little bit further. you can do it. we promise it'll be worth it.” you felt their hands tighten around yours, and you glanced at them with a sarcastic smile. “oh, wonderful, i’m being supported by the world’s most enthusiastic hill-climbers,” you said, your tone dripping with mock enthusiasm. “just what i needed.”

gojo’s grin widened, clearly pleased with your reaction. “see? we’re not so bad. we just want to make sure you’re okay.” geto chuckled at your sarcastic remark, “yeah, we're just being helpful guides on your little midnight adventure. think of us as your personal sherpas.”

gojo chimed in, his tone was light and playful, “and hey, you gotta admit, we're pretty great company. who else would drag you out on a hill climb like this?” you rolled your eyes, giving them an annoyed look. “personal sherpas, huh? more like personal tormentors,” you said, shaking your head. “and yeah, i guess I’d be hard-pressed to find anyone else crazy enough to drag me out in pajamas for a midnight hike.”

gojo chuckled at your exasperated expression. “hey, we prefer the term 'enthusiastic adventure planners' as for the pajamas, well, we think they're just adding to the hiking experience.” geto chimed in with a cheeky smile, “yeah, you look adorable in your hello kitty jammies, even if they're not exactly hiking-appropriate.”

once the three of you reached the top of the hill, you looked out at the city lights spread before you. with your hands on your hips, you turned to look at gojo and geto, who were both smiling at the view with evident satisfaction.

you couldn’t help but frown as you took in the sight. with a dramatic sigh, you smacked both of their chests. “the view is shit,” you complained, shaking your head. “i climbed all the way up here for this?” gojo let out an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be wounded by your complaint. “hey, we worked hard to drag your whining ass up here.”

geto chuckled, looking amused at your response. “yeah, and you’re supposed to appreciate the view, not just complain about it.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, crossing your arms. “oh, yeah, appreciate the view,” you said sarcastically. “the city lights are just so dull. and let’s not forget, it’s freezing up here.”

you shivered slightly, adding with a mock shiver, “i’m practically turning into an ice sculpture. so, thanks for that, too.” gojo chuckled at your constant complaints. “man, you really are a master of complaining, aren't you? the view isn't dull, it's just not exciting enough for your high standards."

geto chimed in, still amused by your dramatic responses. “yeah, and it's not even that cold. grow some thicker skin, princess.” you turned to geto with a raised eyebrow. “oh, yeah? how about you be a gentleman and give me your sweatshirt, then?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

geto chuckled at your demand, raising an eyebrow as well. “oh, so now you're using your feminine wiles to try and get your way, huh?” gojo chimed in with a smirk, clearly enjoying the exchange, “yeah, playing the damsel in distress, all shivering and cute.”

you grumbled, clearly annoyed by their teasing. “useless,” you muttered under your breath as you sat down on the grass, your feet aching from the climb. gojo and geto exchanged amused glances, watching as you took a seat without saying anything more.

gojo chuckled, his eyes watching you closely as you sat down. “oh, look, the complaining princess has finally decided to take a break.” geto smirked, looking down at you as you sat on the grass, “yeah, those cute little feet got tired, huh?” you pouted, giving them both a look of exaggerated exasperation. “it hurts,” you admitted, rubbing your feet slightly, “and it’s not exactly comfortable up here, you know.”

gojo kneeled down beside you, pretending to be sympathetic, “oh, poor princess, your dainty feet can't handle a little bit of cold grass.” geto chuckled, sitting down next to you as well. “yeah, this isn't exactly the luxury penthouse you're used to, huh?”

you continued to pout, rubbing your ankle with a slight wince, refusing to respond to their teasing. gojo and geto exchanged a look, their playful expressions softening as they watched you, the usual mischief in their eyes replaced by something more gentle.

“alright, alright,” gojo finally said, letting out a small laugh. “we’re sorry, princess. didn’t mean to push you too hard.” geto sighed, a hint of a smile on his lips as he shrugged off his sweatshirt. “here,” he said, draping it over your shoulders. “was planning to give it to you anyway, just had to get my teasing in first.”

you glanced up at him, your pout easing slightly as you pulled the sweatshirt closer around you. it was warm, and you could smell geto’s familiar scent, which made you feel a little better. “thanks,” you mumbled, still sulking a bit but grateful nonetheless. “see?” gojo grinned, leaning in closer. “we’re not completely useless, right?”

geto nudged your side gently. “and we’ll make it up to you. promise.” you let out a small, reluctant laugh, their warmth and light-heartedness slowly melting away your annoyance. “so annoying,” you murmur with a small smile on your face.

gojo chuckled at your grumbled response, his smile growing wider. “yeah, we're pretty damn annoying, but you love us for it.” geto watched you as you pulled his sweatshirt tighter around you, a soft expression on his face. he reached over and gently ruffled your hair. “see? being annoying has its perks, doesn't it?” gojo leaned in closer, his expression mischievous, “yeah, our annoyingness comes with a side of pretty damn good rewards, princess.”

as you sat there, wrapped in geto's sweatshirt and surrounded by their annoying but loveable presence, the three of you settled into a comfortable silence. the city lights continued to glimmer in the distance, and the cool night air carried a hint of chill.

gojo and geto sat on either side of you, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. they watched you intently, waiting to see if your sulky demeanor would give way entirely. you let out a small sigh, deciding to just give in to the moment. without a word, you shifted and lay back on the grass, eyes fixed on the sky above. the cool blades tickled your skin through geto’s sweatshirt, but it was oddly comforting.

the city lights below seemed less dull from this angle, mingling with the stars in a quiet, understated way. it wasn’t exactly the grand view you expected, but maybe that was okay. gojo glanced down at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “getting comfy?” he teased lightly, though there was a warmth in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed.

geto followed suit, stretching out beside you on the grass, his arm brushing against yours, “see? not so bad when you relax a little, huh?” you didn’t bother responding, just stared up at the sky, feeling their presence beside you. maybe they were annoying, but moments like this made it worth it. without looking at them, you let the silence speak for itself, a faint hint of a smile playing on your lips.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions replaced with ones of fond amusement. they knew they had broken through your initial annoyance, and now they were just enjoying this quiet moment with you.

lying on either side of you, they followed your gaze upward, looking at the stars shining above. the city lights in the distance provided a soft, ambient glow, adding to the peaceful atmosphere. after a moment, gojo chuckled softly, reaching out to playfully poke your side, “you're quiet. that either means you're still annoyed, or you're actually enjoying this.”

you felt geto's arm gently lift your head, and you didn’t resist as he slipped it under, letting it serve as a makeshift pillow. it was warm and oddly comforting, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket.

you turned your head slightly to glance at gojo, still pouting a little but softened by the quiet peace of the moment. “i mean, it's not the worst,” you admitted, your voice carrying a playful hint of reluctance, “i guess this is... kinda nice.”

gojo grinned, his finger still poking at your side, “i knew you'd come around. you just needed some convincing.” geto chuckled softly, his arm shifting a bit to make sure you were comfortable. “and some decent company,” he added, his voice low and calm. you let out a small huff, but the corner of your lips betrayed you with the slightest upturn. “yeah, yeah. just don't get used to it, you two.”

but even as you said it, you settled more comfortably into geto’s arm, the three of you lying there in the quiet night, enjoying the simple, unexpected pleasure of each other's presence. gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he observed your softening expression. “oh, princess, you can deny it all you want, but we know you’re enjoying this deep down. we just have that effect on you, don’t we?”

geto chimed in, his voice carrying an amused tone. “yeah, and the way you’re snuggling into my arm isn’t exactly subtle, either. it's cute when you act all tough but then can’t resist the charm of your two favorite jerks.” you let out a quiet scoff, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing. as much as you wanted to keep up the act, you couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in your chest at their words. their playful banter, the way they made it a point to draw a smile out of you, it was all annoyingly endearing.

you shifted slightly, making yourself more comfortable against geto’s arm, but you didn’t bother giving them a response. instead, you just gazed up at the sky, letting the sounds of their laughter and the cool breeze fill the silence.

it was one of those rare moments where words weren’t needed. surrounded by the soft glow of city lights and the comforting presence of your two favorite idiots, you found yourself genuinely content, even if you’d never admit it out loud. your scoff lingered in the air, a small sign of your silent surrender to their antics, and in return, they both smiled, satisfied with the quiet victory.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing smirk, silently pleased with your reaction. they knew they had won this little battle of wills, and the look on your face said it all.

lying there under the starry sky, gojo reached over and gently ruffled your hair. “look at you, all cozy and relaxed. we think you secretly love this little adventure, princess.” geto chuckled softly, his hand idly rubbing small circles on your arm. “yeah, we knew you'd come around and admit that spending time with us isn't so bad after all.”

you glanced between them, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to keep it hidden. their warmth, their teasing, and even their relentless persistence—everything about this moment felt oddly comforting.

“maybe,” you mumbled softly, not quite ready to give them the satisfaction of a full admission, but just enough to let them know that you didn’t entirely hate it. gojo’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in closer, his grin widening. “we’ll take that ‘maybe’ as a win,” he declared, his tone triumphant.

geto nodded, his gentle touch still lingering on your arm. “yeah, that’s basically a ‘yes’ in your language,” he teased, his voice low and fond. you rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t argue further, allowing yourself to just soak in the peace of the moment. maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind this little midnight adventure after all.

gojo chuckled, clearly satisfied with your reluctant admission. “see? we knew you couldn’t resist our irresistible charm. you’re secretly a big ol’ softie.” geto’s smile widened at gojo’s words, his hand continuing its soothing circles on your arm. “yeah, deep down, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. admit it.” the two of them looked down at you, their expressions filled with a mix of amusement and affection as they waited for your response.

the quiet of the night settled around the three of you, the cool grass beneath you and the stars above painting a serene backdrop. your eyes stayed fixed on the vast sky, the scattered constellations offering a calm distraction from the earlier banter.

gojo’s finger brushed against yours, a soft and tentative touch, like he was testing the waters, unsure if you’d pull away or let him linger. but you didn’t move, didn’t say a word—just let the gentle contact continue, finding an unexpected comfort in the subtle connection.

geto’s arm under your head provided a steady warmth, his presence equally calming. though neither of them spoke, their proximity and the quiet sounds of their breathing beside you felt like a silent reassurance—an unspoken promise that, despite the teasing and the occasional annoyances, they were right where they wanted to be: by your side.

for once, you didn’t feel the need to complain or roll your eyes. instead, you allowed yourself to simply exist in the moment, the cool breeze, the faint rustle of leaves, and the distant hum of city lights below making everything feel strangely perfect. maybe, you thought, this wasn’t such a bad place to be after all.

gojo and geto continued their subtle touches, silently enjoying the peaceful moment. they could sense that you were relaxed and content, and for once, they didn’t press you to say anything.

gojo's finger gently traced a lazy pattern on the back of your hand, his touch barely perceptible. geto's arm underneath your head held you close, his presence steady and comforting. the night deepened as the three of you lay there under the vast sky, the silence stretching on as if the world had slowed down, just for this moment.

after a while, gojo finally broke the silence, his voice soft and thoughtful, “you know, i never thought I'd say this, but this isn’t too bad.“

geto hummed in agreement, his arm adjusting slightly under your head. “yeah, usually our little adventures involve more chaos and less quiet relaxation.” gojo chuckled quietly, his finger still tracing small circles on your hand. “yeah, usually we’re the ones causing the trouble, not lying in the grass like some peace-loving hippies.”

geto chuckled as well, joining in on the playful banter. “yeah, and you’re usually the one complaining the loudest, princess.”

gojo smirked, lifting his free hand and lightly pinching your cheek. “yeah, but we’ve already established that deep down, you secretly love our annoying antics. that’s why you keep hanging out with us.” you huffed, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing. “please, let’s not pretend i have a choice here. you two are the ones who keep forcing me to hang out. if i ever tried to bail, you’d just terrorize me until i gave in—or worse, have suguru’s rainbow dragon hunt me down.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening. “damn right we’d keep terrorizing you. if we couldn’t win you over with our charm, we’d just resort to pestering you till you said yes.” geto chimed in, a sly smile creeping across his face, “and you know we’d do it too. we don’t give up that easily.” a pause hung in the air as both of them eyed you expectantly, waiting for your response. they knew they had a point, but they also knew you weren't likely to admit that you secretly enjoyed their company.

you sighed, rolling your eyes as their smug expressions continued to linger. “shut up, both of you,” you mumbled, trying to stifle a smile. “can we just enjoy a quiet moment for once without you two yapping your asses off?”

gojo chuckled, but he respected your request, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “alright, alright. we'll give the princess some peace and quiet.”

geto nodded, still grinning but now in silence, his hand gently squeezing yours in acknowledgment. the three of you settled back into a comfortable quiet, the sounds of the city below fading away as you all focused on the stillness of the night, the stars above, and the quiet but undeniable warmth of being together.

as the quiet settled around you once again, a thought occurred to geto. he glanced over at you, his voice quiet but curious. “hey, y/n,” he began. gojo glanced over as well, his eyes fixed on you, anticipating the question. you hummed softly as the answer. geto continued, his tone thoughtful. “have you ever made a wish on a shooting star?”

you stayed silent for a moment, eyes fixed on the vast expanse of the sky above, tracing the faint outlines of distant stars. the night was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hum of the city below. after a brief pause, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. “yeah,” you finally answered, still gazing upwards, “i have.”

gojo perked up, a look of mild surprise on his face. “really?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. geto raised an eyebrow, turning to look at you with a hint of intrigue in his eyes. “huh, i didn't take you for the superstitious type.” you shrugged slightly, still looking up at the sky, “i didn't, but i was pretty desperate at the time.”

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with curiosity. they knew that you weren't one to casually make wishes on shooting stars. “yeah?” gojo prompted, his voice a mix of interest and concern, “what was so desperate that you needed to make a wish on a shooting star?”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your lip as you weighed your options. after a long pause, you sighed and looked back up at the sky. “it’s… something i want the most,” you finally said, your voice quiet but honest, “something i didn’t think i could get any other way.”

gojo and geto grew quiet, their expressions turning thoughtful. they could sense the seriousness in your tone and knew that this wasn't a light-hearted request. there was a moment of silence as the two of them exchanged a glance, a silent question passing between them. finally, gojo spoke up again.

“what was it that you wished for?” he asked softly, his voice gentle. you shifted slightly in geto's embrace, feeling his warmth against you as you took a breath. “gentle love,” you admitted softly, the words hanging in the air. there was a brief silence as you all absorbed the weight of your confession.

a quiet laugh escaped your lips, breaking the stillness. “it’s silly, i know,” you muttered, your tone light but a bit self-conscious. “sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, huh?” there was another brief moment of silence as the two of them processed your words. they glanced at each other again, sensing the vulnerability behind your confession.

then, gojo chuckled softly, breaking the silence. “no, it’s not ridiculous,” he reassured, his voice gentle and sincere. geto spoke up as well, his hand gently squeezing yours, “yeah, don’t worry, princess. it’s not silly at all.”

a few moments passed before gojo spoke up again, his voice a little quieter, “can i ask you something?” geto remained silent, his eyes fixed on you, waiting to see where this was going.

again, you softly hummed.

gojo shifted a bit, his eyes locked on yours, “what does ‘gentle love’ mean to you?” geto watched you closely, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. you smiled softly, your eyes drifting to the stars above. “i want gentle love,” you murmured, your voice filled with quiet longing. “that kind of love where he rubs my cheek with his thumb, where he kisses me over and over until we're laughing.”

you continued, your gaze distant as you pictured the tender moments in your mind. “where he uses his fingers to make circles on my hand, kisses my shoulder when i’m looking away, tucks my hair behind my ears, and kisses my forehead.”

a wistful sigh escaped your lips. “long hugs, rubbing my back when i lay on his chest… where he treats me like i'm delicate.” you paused, feeling the weight of your own words, before a small smile tugged at your lips, almost as if you were lost in a sweet daydream.

gojo and geto listened intently, their expressions soft as you described your yearning for gentle love. they could hear the earnest desire in your voice, the way your words painted a picture of quiet, tender affection.

there was a moment of silence as they took in your description, before gojo broke it. “that all sounds really nice,” he offered, his voice gentle. geto hummed in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you. “yeah, it does,” he said quietly, his hand giving yours a slight squeeze.bgojo shifted again, watching you closely. “have you... ever received that kind of love before?” he asked, his voice soft but curious. geto stayed silent, knowing that gojo's question might touch a nerve.

you glanced at gojo, your eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at his question. a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head gently. “no,” you admitted, your voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability. “that’s why i’m desperate.”

your words hung in the cool night air, the soft glow of the city lights in the distance reflecting the quiet longing in your heart. you felt gojo and geto's gazes on you, their expressions a mix of empathy and something unspoken, but you just kept your eyes on the sky, the stars above feeling like the only witness to your wish.

the three of you fell into a brief silence again as your words settled in. gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting to show a mix of understanding and concern.

gojo was the first to speak up, his voice a bit softer than usual. “but why does it have to be a shooting star? why not just...” he trailed off, not quite sure how to finish his thought. geto picked up where he left off, his voice equally soft. “yeah, why not just find someone who can give you that gentle love?”

you gently nudged gojo's chest, a soft smile tugging at your lips as he lay beside you. “i told you i was desperate,” you said, a light chuckle following your words. “when you want something that badly, you'll do anything— even something as silly as wishing on a shooting star.”

turning your head slightly, you meet geto's eyes, your smile fading into something more contemplative. “it’s not that easy,” you admitted, your voice a bit quieter. “finding someone who truly understands that kind of love… it feels impossible sometimes.” you let out a small sigh, your gaze drifting back up to the sky.

gojo and geto didn’t have a response to that. they could feel the weight of your hopeless feeling, the resignation that crept into your voice.

geto's grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance that he was listening. gojo, meanwhile, found himself unable to find anything to say that would ease the heaviness in the air. after a few moments of silence, gojo finally spoke up, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of disbelief. “how could it be impossible? you're not that difficult to love.”

your heart quickened at gojo’s words, a flicker of warmth spreading through the ache you’d long carried. for as long as you could remember, you’d believed you were harder to love—your parents’ dismissiveness and constant comparisons to your siblings only cemented that belief. but hearing gojo say that, even in his casual tone, felt like a balm to your wounded heart.

you turned your head slightly, catching gojo’s gaze. his eyes were sincere, a quiet intensity in them that told you he meant every word. something shifted in your chest, a mix of hope and disbelief, and for a moment, you found yourself struggling to find the right response. all you could manage was a small, genuine smile, the weight of your unspoken fears still hanging between you but just a little lighter now. “thanks,” you finally whispered, the simple word carrying all the gratitude and vulnerability you couldn’t quite voice.

gojo smiled back, his eyes meeting yours. he could tell that his words had touched a chord in you, and despite the lighthearted tone of his comment, he meant it. geto, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, stayed quietly beside you, his arm still wrapped around you, his presence a gentle reassurance.

gojo's expression softened as he continued to look at you, his voice warm. “you really have no idea how lovable you are, do you?” gojo leaned closer, propping himself up on his elbow. his eyes never left yours, the sincerity in them more intense than before. he gently pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “loving you is the easiest thing,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and comforting, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for you.

when he pulled back, his expression was filled with a mix of affection and gentle confidence. “as your upperclassman, i can guarantee it—loving you is as easy as a snap of the fingers.” he snapped his fingers playfully, a warm smile spreading across his face, the kind that reached his eyes and made you feel seen and cherished in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

geto watched from beside you, a smile playing on his lips as he observed the tenderness in gojo’s actions. he had seen gojo in many moods—arrogant, playful, and careless—but this version of him, the one who was gentle and sincere, was reserved for rare moments like these.

as gojo pulled back from his affectionate gesture, geto spoke up softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, but also a genuine fondness. “he’s right, you know,” he added, glancing at you. “loving you might just be the easiest thing people can do.”

you smiled, the warmth from their words seeping into your chest, filling it with a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. “aww, thank you, guys,” you said, your tone playful but laced with sincerity. “aren't you the sweetest when you're not being annoying and acting like assholes?”

gojo chuckled at your light-hearted response, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated annoyance. “i'm always sweet,” he protested, feigning offense. “you're just too dense to see it most of the time.”

geto chuckled as well, his arm tightening around you very slightly. “oh, please,” he chimed in, his smirk playful, “you're nothing more than a loud-mouthed annoyance most days, and we all know it.”

as gojo let out an exaggerated gasp of outrage and opened his mouth to protest, you chuckle. “oh c’mon, don’t deny it,” you teased. “we all know you’re a pain in the ass more than you're a sweetheart.” gojo looked like he was about to argue, but then he huffed and crossed his arms, a small pout on his face. “you're both so mean to me,” he muttered, clearly not taking the banter too seriously.

geto chuckled warmly at gojo's mock sulk, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. he couldn't help but join in on picking on his friend. “well, we wouldn't have to be mean if you weren't so full of yourself all the time,” he pointed out, his smirk widening. gojo huffed in faux indignation, his pout deepening. “i am not full of myself. i'm just confident. there's a difference, you know?”

you chimed in again, your smile widening as gojo continued to pout. “yeah, that’s what happens when you act like a big brat all the time. you reap what you sow,” you agreed with geto's.

gojo's pout turned into a full-on frown at your words, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. “hey, i do not act like a brat,” he protested, his voice edging on a whine.

geto, sensing an opportunity to tease him further, couldn't resist chiming in again. “oh, but you do,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “you act like a spoiled little kid who's always demanding attention.” gojo's frown deepened as geto continued to dig into his ego. “i do not demand attention,” he argued, his voice rising slightly.

geto chuckled, not taking gojo's protests seriously. “oh, yes, you do. you're like a needy little puppy, always wanting to be noticed and fussed over.” you chuckled softly, shaking your head at their banter. watching them bicker like this was like witnessing a comedy routine unfold right before your eyes. “you guys are ridiculous,” you mumbled, amusement dancing in your voice.

leaning back on the grass, you glanced up at the sky again, still smiling. it was moments like these—lighthearted, carefree, and full of laughter—that made you cherish their presence even more. “but, honestly, i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added, your voice soft but sincere, appreciating the warmth they brought to your life, even through their antics.

geto and gojo paused in their banter for a moment, their eyes shifting to you as you leaned back against the grass, looking up at the stars. gojo’s expression softened, his pout replaced by a small smile. he caught your eye for a second, his gaze warm and genuine.

geto's smile mirrored gojo's, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “yeah, same here,” he echoed your sentiment, his voice carrying a hint of affection that was as sincere as yours.

they fell into a brief silence as they all soaked in the peaceful surroundings. the laughter and light-hearted banter from moments ago had given way to a comfortable quiet, the only sounds being the distant sounds of the city and the gentle rustling of the grass. after a few moments, gojo spoke up again, his voice softer now. “you know, i really mean it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the night sky.

you glanced over at gojo, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. his sudden shift in tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you wondered what he was getting at. “mean what?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity as you tried to piece together what he was referring to.

the sincerity in his expression was unusual, and it made you slightly uneasy, unsure of where the conversation was headed. you turned your attention fully to him, your brow furrowing slightly as you waited for him to elaborate.

gojo's gaze shifted from the stars to you. he could sense the confusion and curiosity in your eyes, and it made his heart clench slightly. it was unusual for him to be this serious, and he knew you must be wondering what was on his mind.

he paused for a moment, his normally lighthearted gaze now filled with a sincerity that made it all the more impactful. “i meant what i said earlier,” he clarified, his voice low but genuine, “about loving you being the easiest thing.”

your breath caught at his words, the sincerity in his tone making your heart flutter. it was rare for gojo to be this earnest, and it threw you off balance, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond—his words were so simple, yet they carried a weight that settled deeply in your chest.

you glanced away, focusing on the stars again, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “you’re really something, satoru,” you mumbled softly, your voice betraying a mix of disbelief and gratitude. “i’m not used to hearing stuff like that.”

you glanced back at him briefly, catching the warm, reassuring look in his eyes, and felt your walls soften just a little more, “but… thank you. that means a lot.” gojo's heart warmed at your genuine reaction to his words. he could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the way his sincere comments had thrown you off guard. it was a new side of you that he hadn't seen before.

he smiled back, his eyes soft, watching as you looked away and back at the stars. as you thanked him and admitted you weren't used to hearing those words, he reached over and gently tugged on a strand of your hair, playful yet affectionate.

“you deserve to hear it more often,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of a promise. geto had been quietly listening, allowing gojo his moment with you. he observed the tender exchange, the way your guard was slowly lowering with each sincere word. he could see the impact of gojo’s words on you, the way your cheeks flushed slightly and your eyes shone with a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

he smiled softly, his hand still on your shoulder, a silent witness to the intimate conversation unfolding between the two of you. gojo watched as geto remained silent, his presence a steady, comforting presence behind you. gojo could practically feel geto's eyes on the two of you. he knew geto was observing, listening to the conversation unfold.

he turned his attention back to you, his gaze soft and affectionate. he was enjoying this moment, this rare opportunity to be open and vulnerable without his usual pretense.

“you really should get used to hearing it,” he repeated, his voice low and sincere. “everyone should be telling you how lovable you are all the time.” as gojo spoke again, his voice dripping with sincerity, geto could see your expression soften further. you were visibly affected by his words, struggling to process the compliments and vulnerability he was expressing.

he took a moment to observe you, the way your walls were slowly crumbling under gojo’s gentle yet firm persistence. it was a sight to behold, seeing someone so used to closing themselves off slowly opening up due to another’s affection.

you let out a soft sigh, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—gratitude, vulnerability, and a touch of disbelief. pushing yourself up on your elbows, you gazed at the landscape stretched out before you, the city lights twinkling in the distance against the inky night sky.

with a small, almost wistful smile, you murmured, “eh, the view isn’t so bad,” your tone light but carrying an undercurrent of meaning. gojo propped himself up next to you, his eyes following your gaze to the cityscape in the distance. he chuckled lightly at your comment, understanding the double meaning behind your words.

“told ya,” he teased, a playful grin on his face. he could see the vulnerable expression you tried to hide beneath your light tone, and it made his heart clench slightly. geto, still laying behind you, noticed the exchange and smiled, his hand still gently rubbing your shoulder, a silent show of reassurance.

you glanced at the sky one more time before sighing softly, feeling the weight of the moment lingering between the three of you. shifting slightly, you gave them a small smile, trying to mask the emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

“we should probably get going,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled. “it's already so late.”

you started to push yourself up, brushing off the bits of grass clinging to your clothes. the quiet warmth of their company was something you’d savor, but you weren’t quite ready to linger in this vulnerability for much longer. as you stood, you glanced down at them, catching the way gojo’s playful grin softened and how geto’s reassuring smile never wavered. despite the lateness, you knew they’d both follow you anywhere, no questions asked.

as you started to stand up, gojo and geto exchanged a quick, knowing glance. they could sense your need to break the moment, to reestablish some distance after the vulnerability that had been revealed.

gojo pushed himself up after you, his grin now more gentle than playful. “yeah, let’s head back,” he agreed, his voice soft yet understanding. geto got up as well, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a second longer before he dropped it, the reassuring smile still on his face. “we still have class tomorrow,” he reminded playfully.

geto's eyes caught sight of his sweatshirt hanging loosely over your shoulders, and his expression softened even more. with a gentle shake of his head, he stepped closer, his hands already moving to adjust it. “you should wear this properly,” he murmured, his tone filled with that familiar mix of fondness and care. “don't want you catching a cold, do we?”

he carefully slipped the sleeves over your arms, his touch gentle but firm as he pulled it snug around you. he took an extra moment to make sure it fit comfortably, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulders. “there,” he said with a satisfied nod, his smile growing as he looked at you. “better, right?”

the gesture was small but filled with the kind of quiet affection that spoke louder than words, leaving no doubt in your mind that, even in the simplest actions, geto's care for you ran deep. as geto tugged the sleeves of the sweatshirt into place and adjusted it around you, gojo watched the exchange quietly, his gaze flicking between you both.

he couldn't help but notice the tenderness in geto’s touch, the way he took the time to ensure the hoodie fit perfectly around you. the gesture was subtle, a silent expression of care and connection.

he could see the effect it had on you, the way you subtly relaxed under geto’s touch, a small smile tugging at your lips. gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of something he couldn’t quite identify.

as you turned to face the descent, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, the thought of trekking down the hill already wearing you out. “ugh, i can’t believe we have to walk all the way down,” you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands in mock despair.

gojo chuckled softly at your reaction, catching up beside you. “come on, it’s not that bad,” he teased, but the glimmer in his eyes suggested he found your frustration endearing.

geto, ever the considerate one, stepped closer and gently squeezed your shoulder. “if you’re really that tired, we can take it slow,” he offered, his voice warm and patient. “or, you know, we could always carry you,” he added with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you just a bit.

your exaggerated sigh and whine about the walk were met with gojo’s amused chuckle, his eyes sparkling with playful understanding.

“you’re so dramatic,” he teased, his tone light, “as if a little walk is too much for you.”

geto’s gentle offer to take it slow or carry you was made with a sincere concern for your tiredness, and he tacked on the playful comment, clearly enjoying himself. his smirk hinted at his mischievousness, but you knew he was only half-joking.

you turned to them with a dramatic huff, hands on your hips as you eyed them both expectantly. “alright, so which one of you is going to be a gentleman and carry me down?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, demanding.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, both of them trying and failing to conceal the grins that were pulling at the corners of their lips. they knew you were being playful, putting on a dramatic display to get your way, and they both knew they’d willingly play along.

gojo stepped closer, putting on an air of mock-exasperation. “oh, you and your demands,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with playful fondness. “don’t you know princesses should be carried on their prince’s strong arms?”

geto chuckled at gojo’s playfully exaggerated response, watching the two of you banter. he couldn’t help but join in, his eyes glittering with mirth. “that’s true,” he agreed, his grin widening. “princesses shouldn’t have to walk on such lovely little legs when they have princes to carry them.”

he took a step closer, his own eagerness to play along evident, his voice laced with a hint of anticipation. “so i guess that means neither of us can resist the call of chivalry, huh?” you straightened up, placing a hand on your hip and lifting your chin like a royal decree was about to be made. “alright, peasant,” you declared, putting on your best princess voice from centuries past, “carry me on your back, and make haste!”

with a dramatic flourish, you patted geto's back as if commanding him into service, a playful glint in your eyes as you stifled a laugh. gojo and geto both burst into quiet laughter at your haughty princess command, clearly amused by your overdramatic attempt at regal authority.

geto, playing along with theatrical flair, quickly dipped into a low, exaggerated bow, his hand over his heart. “as you wish, my delightful little princess,” he responded, his tone dripping with mock subservience. without warning, he quickly stepped in front of you, grabbing your legs and effortlessly hoisting you up onto his back, holding you securely with strong, steady hands.

as the three of you began your descent down the hill, the cool night air was refreshing against your skin. the path was well-trodden and easy to navigate, flanked by the soft, undulating grass of the field below. the grass field stretched out like a sea of green, dotted occasionally with wildflowers that added splashes of color to the landscape.

the distant city lights twinkled like stars on the horizon, creating a warm, ambient glow that contrasted with the dark, expansive sky above. the serene, peaceful atmosphere was broken only by the soft rustling of the grass and the occasional chirp of nocturnal insects.

as you made your way down, the gentle slope of the hill provided a smooth, relaxed descent. the night was clear, with the moon casting a soft, silvery light over the surroundings, making the walk both picturesque and tranquil. the cool breeze carried with it a sense of calm, adding to the overall peacefulness of the moment.

the atmosphere around the three of you was a picture-perfect moment of tranquility as you made your way down the hill, the landscape bathed in the silvery light of the moon.

gojo strode along beside you and geto, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, his gaze occasionally drifting from the landscape to you, seated comfortably on geto’s back. his eyes were soft, his lips curled into a subtle smile. geto, meanwhile, was enjoying the feeling of you on his back, your warmth and weight a comfortable presence as he navigated the downward slope.

as you reached the bottom of the hill, you gave geto a playful squeeze, your voice light but with a hint of genuine reluctance. “you know, now that i’m all comfy on your back, i’m not so sure i want to walk to the dorm anymore,” you said with a teasing tone.

as you squeezed geto playfully, your words filled with both lightheartedness and genuine reluctance, he let out a low laugh, his back rumbling faintly beneath you. he kept his grip on your legs steady, his hands warm against your skin.

“oh, so you’re going to be a spoiled princess and demand to be carried the rest of the way?” he teased, his voice filled with playfulness and amusement, “it’s not that far, princess. you could at least walk the last bit.”

you shook your head with a playful smile, resting your cheek comfortably against geto's back. “nope,” you murmured softly, your voice muffled but clear. "i’m perfectly comfy here. i think i’ll just enjoy the ride until we get to the dorm."

geto chuckled at your stubborn refusal, continuing to carry you despite the lighthearted bickering. you were warm and cozy, pressed against his back, and he couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm to the current situation.

“oh, so you’re just going to hog my back the whole way,” he teased, a note of playfulness in his tone. “and what if i get tired of hauling your spoiled princess butt the rest of the way?” you chuckled softly, snuggling closer against his back. “oh, you won’t get tired,” you teased back. “with all those muscles of yours, it’d be pretty shameful if you couldn't carry a little weight. i’m just making sure you get to show off those muscles of yours.”

a small grin tugged at the corner of geto's lips at your teasing. he chuckled as he felt you snuggle closer against his back, your words stirring a competitive spark in him.

“oh, so that’s what you’re doing,” he responded, his tone dripping with mock-indignation. “what a spoiled little princess.” he adjusted his grip on your legs, hoisting you up slightly to ensure a more secure hold.

as the three of you continued walking, the light banter between you and geto carried on. he chuckled at your response, his heart feeling a slight flutter at your casual affection.

gojo, walking beside you both, listened to the soft back-and-forth banter. he could see the playfulness and affection between you and geto, and despite the mild sting of something unfamiliar in his chest, he couldn’t help being glad to see geto’s guard drop so easily and naturally around you.

he chuckled under his breath, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “you’re both incorrigible,” he teased, shaking his head. “suguru's going to end up with a sore back by the time we get to the dorm.” you raised your eyebrows playfully at gojo, giving him a smirk. “well, i didn’t see you volunteering to carry me,” you replied, your tone light, “so, you don’t really get a say in this. suguru’s the one who’s earning all the glory right now.”

as the banter continued, gojo’s eyes flickered to geto, his expression tinged with affectionate mockery. he knew geto was enjoying every second of this, playing the role of your personal chariot without complaint.

he felt another pang in his chest as he watched you cling to geto, a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite name swirling in his gut. he tried to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the lighthearted banter going.

the three of you walked through the empty streets, the world wrapped in the stillness of three in the morning. the city’s usual hum was replaced by the soft glow of streetlights, casting gentle shadows that danced around your feet. laughter drifted between you, light and unburdened, as if the night itself had been holding its breath just to witness this moment of pure, unguarded joy.

you rested comfortably on geto’s back, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. his steps were steady, each one a silent promise of support, and you could feel the warmth of his quiet laughter vibrate through your own chest. beside you, gojo walked with a carefree ease, his presence as bright and effervescent as the stars that dotted the night sky above. every now and then, he’d throw a playful nudge at geto or toss a teasing remark your way, drawing out your sleepy giggles that lingered in the cool night air.

the moon watched over you, a silent guardian of your little trio, its silvery light bathing the world in a soft, dreamlike glow. the cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of grass and the faint promise of morning, yet the three of you lingered in this serene slice of time, as if the dawn could wait just a little longer.

beneath your light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding between gojo and geto—a quiet vow that settled in their hearts as they looked at you nestled so comfortably on geto’s back. they saw the softness in your eyes, the vulnerability you often tried to hide behind sarcasm and dramatics, and they knew. they knew that more than anything, you deserved the kind of love that was steady, gentle, and unwavering. a love that would cradle your heart through every midnight adventure, every shared laugh, and every silent moment where words were unnecessary.

you didn’t notice the fleeting exchange of glances between them, the silent promise etched in their eyes. but as you finally approached your dorm, the walls of your tiredness gave way to a sense of peace. you were surrounded by a warmth that went beyond the physical, a warmth that felt like home in the company of the two who had somehow become your everything.

and as they watched you start to drift off, your head resting lightly against geto’s shoulder, they made a vow—to be the ones who’d always carry you when you were too tired to walk, to share in your laughter and chase away your fears, and to love you in the way you deserved: gently, endlessly, and with all the quiet strength they could muster. it was a promise woven into the fabric of the night, delicate and unbreakable, as eternal as the stars above.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 2

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 2:

Every day and night you had to stay trapped at home, it felt like nails on a chalkboard after that one fateful meeting that night.

The only thing that made the time bearable was the radio. Alastor told you he hosted a radio show. As so, you soon became one of his most loyal listeners. Anything to relive the moment when you felt like a person again.

So when the night finally came, that you could escape to Mimzy's establishment the next town over, you were over the moon at the chance to see Alastor again.

Luckily for you, your husband was going to be away for a week this time.

That night, you made it to the bar a bit later than usual, you had to be extra sure that it was safe to leave town unnoticed after a close call of almost being discovered by some relatives that lived nearby.

When you enter the bar, you hear some piano music. It wasn't unusual for Mimzy to invite musicians or let patrons play some music at the piano that resides in the bar, as long as they didn't get boo'ed off the stage. But this music stirred something in your soul, making you hurry into the bar.

It was Alastor.

You gasp, your heart beating a million miles a minute. You were so drawn to him. In this moment, the jazzy music that filled the air and filled up all the holes in your heart. You were captivated. So captivated, that you forgo greeting Mimzy and the bar entirely, in favor of walking over to Alastor at the piano.

He gives you a surprised look before smiling and immersing himself in the music once more.

You smile back and you can't help but sing along to Alastor's piano playing. The song was a classic, and also one your personal favorites.

As you sing, you sit down on the piano bench next to him. You notice he doesn't open his eyes, but the smile on his face deepens as your duet continues.

When your song comes to an end, it feels like you came back down to earth. The bar erupted in applause, the embarrassment flushing your whole face pink. You look over to Alastor who's looking at you with such a warm expression.

"My dear, what a lovely voice you have. Your talents truly seem boundless. I am quite surprised you knew that song."

You spend the rest of the night tucked away in a private corner talking with Alastor about all sorts of things, interests, likes, dislikes, deep conversations about life, and even your fears. But never once did you mention your home life, you'd rather die than let Alastor find out. The last thing you need is for him to treat you differently.

When you mention you listened to his every show ever since the night that you first met, his eyes light up and something in him clicked. He took your chin gently in his hand and brought your face closer to his, "Oh my, I have never met a finer woman with even finer tastes in entertainment~" which caused your heart to flutter like never before.

The tension and feelings between the two of you were palpable. It was clear to the rest of the bar that the two of you were smitten with each other, something akin to love at first sight. You tow were inexplicably drawn to each other.

You wish you didn't have to leave and go back home. But you knew you had to get home before dawn, even if you were going to come back the next day/night anyway. Relatives and in-laws usually liked to stop by unannounced and if they found the house empty, you'd be in for a world of punishment and pain. It happened once, and you would rather not relive that experience ever again.

So even though it pained you greatly, you had to say goodbye to Alastor. As you stood up to leave, Alastor's hand still held yours, you could tell he was reluctant to let you leave. Very rarely did he have the chance to enjoy such cultured and lovely conversation. With a sad and somber expression, you walked away, his hand slowly sliding out of yours.

"I hope you come back to me, ma chérie ..."

-> Part 3

[rosygaze]

cupid

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

summary: you swear cupid hates you but maybe he’ll finally take mercy when you meet eddie. 

warnings: reader insecurity, slight period misogyny, mostly fluff, eddie being a cutie patootie, inspired by cupid by fifty fifty <3 

word count: 2.4k+

masterlist

You were starting to think that Cupid had a personal vendetta against you.

Three failed dates in a row, all with different guys.

You were optimistic about the first date. After hitting it off with a friend of a friend at a party, you agreed to go on a date with them—a simple movie and dinner.  Only you didn’t make it to dinner since your date started hysterically sobbing after watching the newest rom-com. Apparently, he was missing his ex, and seeing two people in love on screen was the breaking point.

The second date came and went. Another movie and dinner but this time you actually made it to dinner. Which you quickly regretted when he kept trying to play footsie with you under the table. At the end of the date, he leaned in for a kiss. You panicked and dodged which had your date kissing the brick wall behind you instead. You didn’t hear back from him again.

On your third date, you lowered your expectations exponentially. You wanted to play it safe and have a coffee date. It started out normal enough. In fact, you were even having fun. He made you laugh until the conversation drifted to the topic of the future. You told him you wanted to get out of this small town and get a job.

For some reason, that made him extremely upset. He started talking about how women shouldn’t ever work and that the only work you should do is cleaning the house, taking care of the kids, and all that 1950s bullshit. You stared at him, mouth agape, not knowing how to respond.

When he was done with his tirade, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. You waited a few seconds before jumping out of your chair and sprinting out of the coffee shop at a speed that should’ve qualified you for the Olympics. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the park down the street and sat down on the empty bench to catch your breath. You looked at your surroundings and grimaced.

Couples.

Everywhere.

A couple having a picnic on the grass. A couple kissing sweetly on the bench across from you. An elderly couple taking a midday stroll. There was even a pair of kids hugging while their parents cooed at them. It’s like the universe was playing some cruel prank on you.

Did Cupid enjoy watching your love life crash and burn? Did he take some sick enjoyment out of hitting you with one of his arrows and shoving you in the direction of another failed love interest?

What was so great about love anyways? It can’t possibly be as good as all the movies and songs made it out to be. Surely, everyone had to be lying or delusional.

And yet…

You wondered what love was like.

The kind of love that kept you smiling all day, that made you see the beauty in the world. The type that swept you off your feet and made you feel like floating through the clouds. The type that completed you.

This is why you kept going on these dates, giving that little cherub second chances in case he finally takes mercy on you and gives you the right man.

Because someone had to be out there for you. Right?

You groaned and slid down the bench enough for you to lean your head on the back of the bench. Watching the clouds float across the sky, you wished the overwhelming loneliness in your chest could float away just as easily. Tears pricked your eyes and you tried desperately not to let them fall. You would not cry here, not in public. You can save the crying for your room like you usually did.  

Despite your best efforts, tears still trickled down your cheeks. You huffed in frustration. You are pathetic.

All of a sudden a sharp pain shot from your head. Your eyes shot open and you sat up. With crossed eyes, you could make out a blurry form of a stick. You gripped the stick and realized that it was literally stuck to your head by suction. You dug your nails into the sides of the rubber to release it. Rubbing your forehead, you finally got a closer look at the toy arrow that hit you.

What. the. hell.

You glanced around the park, looking for who could’ve hit you. Turning around until you faced the open field behind you where you saw two people: a short, curly-haired kid and a tall, long-haired man.

The latter was holding a toy bow looking incredibly guilty.

You blinked at each other for a couple of seconds, in shock about what happened. The boy nudged him and he came stumbling forward. You stood up as well and wiped your tears away. God, you hoped you didn’t have a giant red circle on your face.

The ten-foot distance between the two of you felt bigger than it was. The awkwardness alone almost made you turn around but you pushed through. Once you were close enough, you stopped and took him in.

Everything about him screamed ‘danger’. He wore a black shirt that said ‘Coroded Coffin’ and dark jeans with a chain hanging from his belt. You wondered how he wasn’t sweating under the sun.

Black polish chipped off his nails and a collection of chunky rings adorned his fingers. Trailing your eyes up, you saw the patches of dark ink etched into his skin. He was all hard features and sharp edges that had you slightly antsy but when you finally met his eyes, that feeling flew out the window.

He had these big baby browns that softened his entire look. His long hair was wild and framed his face. The combination made him look slightly like a puppy. He had full, pink lips that opened and closed slightly as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

Stop ogling him. He shot a projectile at you.

You cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “I assume this is yours?” You held the arrow out to him.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and took the arrow from your hand gently. “Yeah! I’m really, really sorry. I swear I wasn’t aiming for -” He stopped mid-sentence and you saw his eyes flicker with worry. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt that much.” You waved a hand over your forehead, dismissively.

“No, not that but I am glad to hear I didn’t hurt you.” He smiled lightly but as fast as it came, a frown settled in its place. “You were, uh… were you crying?”

Taken aback, you furrowed your brows at him. How he could’ve known? “Uh…”

“Sorry! That’s weird. It’s really not my place. It’s just… your eyes are red but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He rambled and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually paid attention to you like this.  

“I’m okay.” He nodded but, ultimately, didn’t look convinced. You sighed. “I just had a bad date.”

“He didn’t hurt you did he? We can track him down. I’ve got a weapon.” He held up the plastic bow.

You giggled and that made him relax just a tad. His shoulders dropped and the wrinkle between his brows smoothed over. “He didn’t, don’t worry. No need to wield a deadly weapon on him.”

“Yet.” He narrowed his eyes at you but had a playful smirk.

“Yet.” You copied his expression. The tension had disappeared and lighthearted laughter took its place.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He introduced himself.

Eddie. It suited him, you thought.

You gave him your name. A charming smile tugged on his lips and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Pretty.” Eddie said under his breath.

Your cheeks flushed even more.

“Eddie, did you get the arrow?” A voice called from behind Eddie. You peered over his shoulder and saw the younger boy. Only now did you notice that he was decked out in a full medieval costume, his curly hair peeking over the edge of his pointy hat.

“Yeah, dude.” Eddie held up the arrow.

“Then come on! You gotta help me with my shield.” The boy whined which made you chuckle slightly. Eddie looked back at you and smiled.

“In a sec, man!” He yelled back but kept his eyes on you. A childish groan came from behind Eddie which had him rolling his eyes playfully. “Sorry about that.”

“Your brother?” You asked.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, surprise clear in his voice. “Yeah, he is.” A fond smile spread across his face. You could see the resemblance in their unruly curls.

“So, what’s with the outfit?” Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you could see Dustin practicing with the shield, swinging it at invisible monsters.

“He’s testing out his costume for the Faire.” He said, casually.

“The Faire?”

“The Renaissance Faire?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You shook your head, not understanding. “It’s like an amusement park for history buffs. People dress up, eat, drink, roleplay. It’s great.” He explained.

“Have you been before?” You wanted to hear more, both equally fascinated by the concept and Eddie’s voice.  

“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s the little guy’s first time and he wants to go all out. He said he wanted to try his costume out in the correct environment. He’s a bit of a nerd like that and that’s saying something coming from me. King of the nerds, right here.” Eddie held his arms out as if presenting himself and bowed low. You smiled at him.

You haven’t stopped smiling since he made you laugh the first time. “It’s sweet that you spend time with him like that.”

“It’s nothing, really. He’s a special kid.” He scratched the back of his head. You tried not to notice the slight flex in his muscles.

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.” You said, managing to pull your eyes away from his arms.

“You know.” Eddie started, looking a bit timid. “I’ve got an extra ticket. You could come with us if you want. It’s this weekend in Indianapolis.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Eddie stepped a quarter of an inch closer to you. The proximity made you the slightest bit dizzy. “Maybe you’d have some fun. Forget about the asshole who made you cry.”

“The asshole?” Your eyebrow quirked up.

“Every man who makes a woman cry is an asshole and should be jailed.” He said with the most serious expression that you knew he wasn’t joking around.

“My, what a gentleman.” You found yourself inching closer to him too.

“My uncle taught me well.” Eddie puffed his chest out proudly. “So what do you say?”

“The Faire does sound really fun.” You paused. “But I think you should spend time with your brother. Since it’s his first time and everything.” “Oh, y-yeah. You’re right.” Eddie’s cheeks were turning red. He started to move back when you spoke again.

“But… maybe you could tell me all about it after? Over coffee?” You offered, biting your lip shyly.

Eddie froze then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?” You nodded, just as excited. “Fuck yeah! I’d love to.”

“I should… uh, give you my number. So you can call me?” That initial bout of confidence was fading away. The intensity of Eddie’s gaze made your knees weak.

“That seems like a good plan.” He nodded.

You pulled your pen out of your bag and dug around for a piece of paper but you couldn’t find anything. Pausing to think, your eyes drifted to the spattering of tattoos on Eddie’s arm. “May I?” You pointed at the back of his hand.

“Go ahead.” He gave you his hand. “I’m not afraid of some ink.”

You let his hand rest on your palm while your other hand scribbled your number on his skin. You had to write slower than usual to make sure the ink stuck. His eyes were burning holes in the side of your face. You spared a glance up at him and the corner of his lips twitched up when you met his gaze.

Ducking your chin, you tried to finish writing but your pen stopped working on the last number. Your lips pouted, petulantly. Eddie must’ve noticed since his thumb rubbed against the skin of your wrist, comfortingly. If you were a cartoon character, you were sure there would be a comical amount of steam coming off you right now with how hot your body felt.

A couple of taps against your thigh and the ink started flowing again. After the last stroke on the final number, you added a small heart beside it.

“Beautiful.” Eddie said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you nor did he let go of your hand. “I should have you design my next tattoo.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause my little hearts will definitely look good with that.” You poked the bats on his forearm.  

“Damn right, it will. Hearts are metal.”

Before you could continue your banter, Dustin’s voice cut through the air. “Edward Munson, stop flirting and help me!” He had his hands on his hips and looked extremely cross with his brother. You let go of Eddie’s hand in embarrassment.  

“I’m coming!” Eddie’s cheeks were red but his eyes were full of amusement. “As much as I’d love to stay, it looks like I gotta go.”

“I figured.” You were actually sad that your time with him was up. “You two have fun this weekend.”

“Thanks. Don’t go on any more dates with assholes, okay.” Eddie still had that playful grin but you heard the slightest hint of unease in his voice.

“I won’t.” You assured him.

You said your goodbyes and walked away. Every couple of steps, you looked back at Eddie. You felt like a teenager again, willing for her crush to look at her in class. You took one last look at Eddie and, as fate would have it, he was turning to look at you too. Both your eyes went wide, a similar situation to your meeting just a couple of minutes ago.

The two of you laughed and Eddie drove the toy arrow into his chest dramatically. He threw his body back on the ground and rolled in the grass. When he got up, he had a smidge of dirt on his cheek but that smile never dimmed. You’d be thinking about that smile all day.

That very night your phone rang.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Eddie said over the receiver. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “Neither could I.”  

This is your last chance, Cupid. You thought. Please let him be the one.

[hon3y-y]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only losing by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART FIVE

paige x azzi

word count: 8k

A/N: Alrighttyy here’s the next chapter as promised. I am so sorry in advance for the beginning it was needed for the plot and I’ve kinda been following the accuracy of their season 😔. I swear I make up for it by the end of the chapter so you guys won’t hate me. They’re taking steps that’s all I’ll say 🙂‍↕️

—————————————————————————

December 2021 - Connecticut

The next two weeks were a noticeable shift for both Paige and Azzi. With Azzi sidelined by her foot injury, Paige took it as an opportunity to grow closer to her outside of basketball, though it often came with a bit of dramatic flair. Paige would still FaceTime Azzi at all hours of the night, her voice playful but a little over the top as she begged, "Please come to the gym, it’s so boring without you." Each call, Paige would act like the gym now felt empty without Azzi as she showed her on the camera, exaggerating how she couldn’t get anything done without her presence.

Azzi, pretending to be annoyed, would respond with something like, “You’re dramatic, Paige,” but there was always a smile hidden behind her words. She’d act like she wasn’t going to answer, rolling her eyes at the screen, but it never took long before she found herself grabbing her shoes and dragging herself over to keep Paige company.

Sometimes, she’d help her shoot around or go through drills, other times they would just sit, talking about everything and nothing at all. Paige loved to come up with silly games to pass the time, and Azzi would play along, even if her foot wasn't fully healed. It wasn’t that Azzi didn’t mind taking it easy for a while; in fact, being with Paige made it a lot easier to forget the frustration of sitting out. There was something about Paige’s energy that kept her entertained, and it made the quiet moments in between practice feel a lot less lonely.

The rest of the team noticed Paige’s shift too, though they didn’t mention it directly not wanting to mess anything up. While Paige had always been intense and all about basketball, now there was a certain lightness in her. She was taking care of herself more—spending time with Azzi, relaxing instead of overworking. She had found a balance she hadn’t had before, and it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone.

…

The clock was ticking down, and UConn was firmly in control of the game against Notre Dame, leading 73-54. The tension in the air had long lifted as the final seconds of the game wound down. Paige was dribbling the ball up the court, her focus on running out the clock. But suddenly, as her left foot hit the floor, there was a sharp stumble, and her knee buckled in a way that sent a jolt of concern through the entire arena.

Pain flashed across Paige’s face, and despite her obvious discomfort, she kept dribbling, fighting to push through it. She passed the ball to Caroline, her right leg taking the brunt of the movement as she hopped on it, trying to stay upright. With every move, her limp grew more pronounced before Paige fell just in front of the UConn bench, clutching her left leg as she hit the hardwood floor hiding her face from view.

Azzi’s stomach dropped at the sight, her eyes widening in shock. It felt like the world around her paused, the entire arena quitting as her focus narrowed only to Paige. The gym’s noise fading as she heard nothing but her heart racing.

Geno immediately called a timeout, signaling for the trainers to rush over. Azzi’s breath hitched, her legs frozen in place as her gaze remained locked on Paige, the moment causing her chest to tighten slightly. Her mind was racing, wondering what had happened, how bad it was. She was on her feet in an instant, but the trainers were already around Paige, and Azzi hesitated, not wanting to crowd them. Why did she feel like this? She had seen plenty of teammates get injured before and she was fine but right now she felt sick to her stomach.

The trainers were around Paige, speaking to her softly, trying to calm her down as her breathing was uneven. But Paige’s face was twisted in clear discomfort as she kept repeating, "My knee," her voice shaky and urgent. Azzi's gaze didn’t leave her, watching even as Evina and Amari gently lifted Paige, one on each side, helping her off the court and to the end of the bench where the trainers could work on her.

Azzi stayed back, knowing she couldn’t talk to her yet. She had to wait until the game was officially over. Her mind kept replaying the moment Paige fell, and the worry was gnawing at her. Her stomach was in knots, but she knew better than to add to the chaos.

The final buzzer sounded, and the team went through the usual handshakes with Notre Dame, but everyone’s mind was far from the celebrations. Azzi’s eyes constantly flicked over to the bench, still keeping an eye on Paige as the trainers helped her up.

Paige limped toward the locker room with the help of the trainers, frustration and pain evident on her face. She was clearly trying to fight it, to stay composed, but her limping gait told the story. Azzi could feel her chest tightening again as she followed her into the locker room.

Once inside, Paige reached for her jersey, pulling it off roughly in frustration, and tossed it across the room not caring where it landed. Azzi could see the discomfort written all over Paige’s face, her frustration clear to everyone as she threw the piece of clothing away.

Evina, not knowing what else to do but be the leader she always has, stepped in with a scolding tone. "Paige, you know that’s not how we do things here," she said sternly, her voice filled with authority though there was a hint of uncertainty this time.

Azzi, however, knew that wouldn’t make anything better. So she moved closer, stepping in between Paige and Evina, her voice softer but firm. "She has to get it out, E. You gotta let her.”

Evina paused, glancing between Azzi and Paige. She looked like she wanted to argue but finally sighed, understanding. She nodded and stepped back, giving Paige the space she needed to process everything that just happened. Azzi knelt beside her, her voice low but filled with concern. "You okay?" she asked, her hand gently resting on Paige’s knee, though she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t stand seeing Paige like this—frustrated, in pain, and clearly overwhelmed.

Paige didn’t respond immediately, but her shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of the situation had finally caught up with her. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her body trembled as she whispered, "I think it’s broken, Azzi." Her voice was small, barely audible, but the fear in it was unmistakable. "I heard it crack... pop... I don’t know... it hurts like hell."

As the words left her mouth, the tears started to fall, and her shoulders shook. Azzi immediately moved closer, her arms wrapping around Paige, pulling her into a comforting embrace. The hug was a little stiff at first, the two of them never being this close in this kind of situation. But eventually Paige sunk into Azzi’ chest trying to let the younger girl soothe her as she continued to cry. Azzi didn’t say anything at first—she didn’t need to. The team, watching silently from a distance, could only stand by, understanding the gravity of the moment. Everyone knew how much this game and the season meant to Paige. To see her like this, in pain, and terrified was something none of them had even thought to prepare for.

Azzi kept her hold on Paige, gently rubbing her back, whispering soft words of reassurance. "You’re gonna be okay, Paige," she murmured, her voice steady and calming. "We’ll figure this out. It’s going to be okay."

The sound of the door opening cut through the tension, Geno entered, his presence commanding the room. He didn’t waste any time on post-game talk, his focus solely on Paige. "No talk just get changed, everyone," he ordered, his voice curt but concerned. His eyes flicked to Paige, the worry clear in his eyes.

Before anyone could move, the trainers entered with a wheelchair, approaching Paige with gentle but firm insistence. Paige, still in tears, looked up at them, her stubbornness flaring despite her pain. She shook her head violently, her voice hoarse as she snapped, "I’m not using that shit."

Azzi, who had been holding Paige, leaned back slightly and looked at her with a mix of concern and understanding. "Paige..." she began softly, trying to coax her to let the trainers help without saying it directly. But Paige, her face contorted with frustration and fear, shook her head again, this time more vehemently.

"I’m fine. I can walk," she said, but the words were more defensive than convincing. Azzi stayed quiet, knowing Paige’s stubbornness well at this point, but she wasn’t sure how to get through to her at this moment. The last thing Azzi wanted was to push Paige further into herself, but she also knew they couldn’t let her walk out on her knee.

"Paige, let them help," Azzi said quietly, her voice full of empathy but still firm. "You’re not going to get miraculously better by fighting it." She gently but firmly squeezed Paige’s shoulder, hoping to make her understand.

The rest of the team remained silent, a heavy tension hanging in the air as everyone waited for Paige’s response, not knowing how she was going to react. Finally, after a long, drawn-out moment, Paige let out a frustrated sigh, her defiance still burning but her body sagging in defeat. She didn’t speak but slowly, reluctantly, she allowed the trainers to assist her into the wheelchair.

As one of the trainers began to push the wheelchair forward, Paige’s hand hesitated at her side before reaching out. Her fingers brushed against Azzi’s, almost tentative, as if she was unsure whether she should ask for that comfort or if this was even ok to do. Azzi didn’t hesitate when she saw it. She immediately took Paige’s hand causing the blonde to let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

The subtle exchange didn’t go unnoticed. The rest of the team exchanged glances but said nothing, the weight of the moment pressing them into silence when they would usually make a joke.

Azzi remained close, walking beside her as they left the locker room, her heart aching as she watched Paige, trying her best to hide her tears. Azzi stayed silent, squeezing Paige’s hand, knowing it wasn’t the right time for empty words that wouldn’t change anything.

…

A few days later they were sitting together in Paige’s room, the tension of Paige’s injury still hanging slightly in the air, though there was a quiet calm between the two of them. Paige had her knee elevated, a heating pad resting on it, her face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. The injury was worse than she’d expected. It wasn’t just a sprain or a twist like she hoped—it was a fracture and a torn meniscus. She’d need surgery and would be out for at least two months. The weight of it all had hit her hard when she found out, and while she didn’t mind being surrounded by her teammates, right now, she only really wanted to be around one person. This thought process only added more to her confusion and frustration.

Azzi, understanding the gravity of the situation from when she tore her ACL, had been quietly sitting with her everyday, offering her presence without pressing for details. But now, as Paige spoke about her surgery, Azzi could see the hurt in her eyes.

"I’m scheduled for surgery next week,” Paige was saying, her voice quieter than usual. "They said I’ll be out for a minimum of two months. I know it’s not that long and I’m kinda lucky but it still feels like forever."

Azzi, trying to lighten the mood a little, cracked a joke. "Well, perfect timing then. You’ll be back just in time for March Madness. Look at that, you can’t even make a dent in our run!" She grinned, trying to ease the tension that was in the air.

Paige’s lips curled into a small smile, the tiniest spark of humor returning to her face. She kicked Azzi with her right leg—her healthy leg—and laughed a little, shaking her head. "Yeah, perfect timing," she muttered, her tone still tinged with sarcasm but a little lighter than before.

Azzi held her hands up in mock surrender, exaggerating her defensive stance at Paige kicking her. "Careful there, I’m mobile," she teased, easing back against the headboard of the bed. "This would be a losing game for you. You’re stuck on the bed."

Paige’s grin widened slightly, her eyes glinting with the playful defiance Azzi had grown to know so well. "You think so, huh?" she challenged, though it was clear that the teasing had pulled her out of the heavy space she’d been in for the last couple of days.

"Oh, I know so," Azzi replied, her voice playful and teasing, her smile matching Paige's as she leaned back against the headboard without a worry in the world.

Without warning, Paige’s hand shot out and she tickled Azzi’s side. Azzi squealed in surprise, instantly breaking into laughter and hopping off the bed, trying to get away from Paige’s relentless fingers.

"Hey, that’s no fair!" Paige muttered, her face lighting up with amusement as she tried to push herself up, wincing slightly at the discomfort in her knee. "I can’t get over there that fast."

Azzi pouted exaggeratedly, her laughter still bubbling out as she stood just out of reach. "Tough luck," she teased, grinning widely. "You’ve got a bum leg, so I’ll win the next few rounds."

Paige huffed, settling back into her spot on the bed, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re lucky I can’t chase you," she muttered, looking at Azzi like she was plotting her next move.

Azzi stuck out her tongue in mock defiance, still standing just out of range. "I’ll take my win. But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you next time," she teased as she sat back on the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin.

Paige muttered something under her breath, her eyes downcast as she crossed her arms, her mood shifting slightly.

Azzi smirked, leaning in closer with a playful glint in her eyes. "What was that?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

Paige shot back, pouting slightly, her voice almost a whisper, "Nothing, leave me alone."

Azzi couldn't resist teasing her further, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Aww, did I make the big baby sad?" she cooed, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness.

Paige rolled her eyes, trying to hide the small smile threatening to break through. "Stop," she muttered, though the lighthearted teasing was clearly exactly what she needed.

Azzi grinned, enjoying the little back-and-forth, and leaned back into the bed, her eyes softening as she watched Paige. "Okay, okay. I'll stop for now," she said, giving Paige a break from the teasing, though she was clearly pleased to see the faint smile tugging at the older girl's lips.

A while later, the two of them had settled into a comfortable silence. Paige, however, found herself looking at Azzi once again, unable to stop the way her thoughts seemed to linger on her. Azzi noticed, her eyes glancing toward Paige before raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Azzi asked, a teasing edge to her voice.

Paige’s ears flushed pink, and she quickly looked down, feeling the warmth of embarrassment flood through her. "Nothing," she murmured, avoiding Azzi’s gaze. "Just thinking."

Azzi’s curiosity piqued, and she leaned in slightly, her tone soft but insistent. "About what?"

Paige didn’t immediately respond, just shook her head with a light laugh, trying to dismiss the moment. "Nothing," she repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Really."

Azzi studied her for a moment, a smile forming as she relaxed back into the bed. "Alright, keep your secrets weirdo," she teased.

Paige couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at Azzi here and there, her gaze drifting over her without meaning to. Azzi definitely noticed, but she didn’t comment, merely raising an eyebrow at Paige the few times their eyes met. Paige quickly looked away, her heart beating a little faster each time Azzi caught her staring.

She didn’t know when it started—this acute awareness of Azzi, these small details she found herself noticing more and more. Small details that shouldn’t really matter to. Her dimples when she smiled, how her laugh made Paige feel lighter just hearing it, the way Paige couldn’t help but enjoy seeing Azzi’s smile and her brown eyes light up, like they somehow brightened the entire room, how Paige just always wanted Azzi around. Maybe it had started during all the late nights in the gym or maybe it was when Azzi would drag Paige to get a “sweet treat” despite the blonde grumbling everytime. All Paige knew was she liked having Azzi around a lot more than she would admit to anyone else.

December 2021 - DMV

Paige sat on her bed in the quiet of her room, the only sound being the occasional click of her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media absentmindedly. She was struggling a bit because she missed Azzi more than she wanted to admit. Despite talking every day since they left UConn for the break, the physical distance between them made the days feel longer.

She glanced at the clock. It was still early, but she couldn't stand the silence any longer. She reached for her phone and opened FaceTime, her thumb immediately hitting the call button. She leaned back against her pillows, the soft hum of her thoughts swirling in the background, waiting for Azzi to pick up.

The call rang twice before Azzi's familiar face appeared on the screen, her expression laced with that playful, sarcastic grin Paige had come to like a little too much. "Wow you almost made it to a reasonable hour before bothering me today. Bored already?" Azzi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. "What you doing?" she asked, shifting slightly on her bed to get comfortable.

Azzi panned the camera down, revealing she was lounging in bed, a pile of blankets surrounding her. "Nothing," she said casually, her voice lazy. "Just enjoying the quiet."

"Hm," Paige hummed. "What you doing today?"

Azzi’s eyes glinted with mischief. "Aww, does Paigey miss me?" she teased, her lips curving into that knowing smirk. "You’re all about me now, huh?"

Paige groaned, rolling her eyes again. "No, I’m just bored. That’s all. I’m literally stuck here with nothing to do because I can’t drive."

Azzi chuckled softly, then raised her eyebrows as if she had an idea. "Well, I’m going to a kickback with some friends from high school later. You should come with me."

Paige paused, the offer hanging in the air for a moment. She didn’t know anyone from Azzi’s high school, and she was still recovering from her surgery a week and a half ago, which made her hesitate even more. She bit her lip. "I don’t know, you know I just had surgery. And I don't really know anyone there. They probably hate me for whooping your ass all the time anyway."

Azzi rolled her eyes at the last comment before her face softened into a reassuring smile Paige had grown to be comforted by. "It’s gonna be chill, I promise. Plus you don’t gotta worry about your knee. I’ll be with you the whole time. You know I got you."

Paige’s heart fluttered at the thought of spending time with Azzi, even though she was still a little unsure. The idea of being around a bunch of strangers didn’t sound all that appealing, but the thought of being by Azzi’s side made everything feel a little more manageable.

"I don’t know..." Paige started again, but Azzi interrupted her with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Azzi coaxed, her voice playful. "Don’t be boring. I’ll take care of you I swear. And if you’re worried about the knee, I’ll literally carry you if I have to."

Paige laughed, shaking her head, though she could already feel the excitement building despite her reluctance. "Alright, fine. I’ll come. But I’m not doing anything but sitting down."

Azzi’s eyes widened, feigning surprise. "Oh, you’re so gonna dance. I’m dragging you on that floor with your stiff knee whether you like it or not."

Paige groaned, though there was a smile on her face now. "Yeah, we’ll see about that."

Azzi’s grin softened, the playfulness replaced with something warmer. "You’re coming, and that’s all that matters. I’ll make sure you’re good the whole time. Nothing you can’t handle."

Paige felt the butterflies stir in her chest as she met Azzi’s gaze through the screen. "Alright, I’m in. But if I get too tired, you’re carrying me out of there."

Azzi laughed, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "Deal. But don’t think I won’t drop you if you start complaining too much."

Paige grinned. "You’re so kind to me. Really."

"Only because you’re special," Azzi teased with a smirk

Much later the conversation had gone on longer than either of them had planned, but it felt impossible to hang up. Even now, with their plans for the night set, neither seemed ready to end the call.

Glancing at the time on her screen, she groaned softly. "Alright, I really need to eat and get ready before I’m late picking you up. My phone’s about to die, and you can’t watch the magic happen."

Paige raised a brow, leaning closer to the camera as if challenging her. "Magic? Azzi, I see you every day. What could possibly be so—"

"Uh-uh," Azzi cut her off, wagging a finger at her through the screen. "This is party-ready Azzi, Paige. Not practice Azzi. There’s a difference, and I’m not giving you a sneak peek."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her grin. "You act like I’m going to be taking notes or something."

Azzi tilted her head, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "You might. Gotta keep some mystery alive, Paigey."

Paige let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Fine, fine. Go charge your phone. Leave me here. Alone. Abandoned."

Azzi grinned, leaning closer to the screen for a moment before softly saying, "You’ll survive. I’ll call you back when I’m on my way."

And just like that, the call ended, leaving Paige staring at her reflection in the now-blank screen. She let out a long sigh before tossing her phone onto the bed beside her.

…

Azzi pulled up outside Paige’s house, her headlights cutting through the early evening darkness. She grabbed her phone and shot Paige a quick text: I’m here. A few minutes later, Paige stepped out, in a hoodie, her crutches tucked under her arms. Azzi hopped out to help, her lips quirking into a teasing smile as she opened the car door for Paige.

“You know, I’m not helpless,” Paige muttered as she settled into the passenger seat.

Azzi smirked as she slid back into the driver’s seat. “I know. But it’s fun watching you try to act tough.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips.

The car ride was casual at first, filled with light chatter. Azzi talked about her old teammates and how she wasn’t sure who’d actually show up tonight. Paige mostly listened, her responses short but warm.

After a while, the conversation lulled, and Paige found herself sneaking glances at Azzi. The way the dim light from the dashboard highlighted Azzi’s features—her sharp jawline, the curve of her lips, the casual way her hand rested on the steering wheel—it was almost unfair.

Azzi caught her once, her eyes flicking over for a moment before she stopped talking and smiled. “What?”

Paige’s ears turned pink, and she looked out the window. “Nothing. Just… listening.”

“Hmm.” Azzi’s hum was teasing, but she didn’t push it, much to Paige’s relief—and frustration.

When they arrived, Azzi helped Paige out of the car, steadying her for a second as she adjusted her crutches. They walked inside together, the hum of chatter and music growing louder as they stepped into the living room. A few heads turned, and someone called out Azzi’s name.

“Azzi!” one of her old friends greeted her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Yo nice to see you. You want a drink?”

Azzi shook her head. “Nah, I’m driving. Thanks, though.”

The guy turned to Paige, his eyebrows lifting slightly in recognition. “What about you?”

Paige shook her head. “No, I’m good.”

Azzi led Paige to a couch where a few of her former teammates were sitting. They greeted her warmly, the conversation flowing easily as they caught up. Paige mostly stayed quiet. She chimed in here and there when prompted, but for the most part, she sat back, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her hoodie.

Azzi noticed and leaned closer, her voice soft so only Paige could hear. “You good?”

Paige nodded, glancing at her. “Yeah, you know me. Not the most chatty if I don’t know them.”

Azzi smiled, her voice taking on a light teasing tone. “Mmm ok. I’ll make sure I keep you company then.”

The quiet exchange helped Paige relax a little, and soon the two of them were chatting quietly, their heads close together so no one else could hear. Azzi leaned back on the couch, her arm draped casually over the backrest, while Paige leaned in slightly, her knee bouncing as they talked.

At some point, Azzi stood. “I’ll grab us some water, you look parched.”

Paige nodded, watching as Azzi disappeared into the kitchen. For a moment, she was content to sit alone, scrolling idly through her phone. But it didn’t take long for people to notice she wasn’t occupied anymore.

It started with one or two people approaching her hesitantly asking for pictures, but within a few minutes, a small crowd had gathered around her. Paige smiled politely, answering their questions and posing for pictures, though her knee started to ache from standing without her crutches that Azzi had propped up on the wall.

After talking to someone in the kitchen for a bit Azzi returned to the living room, holding two bottles of water, only to pause when she saw the scene. A smirk tugged at her lips as she leaned against the doorway, watching for a moment. Of course, she should’ve known this would happen.

Still, Azzi’s smirk faded slightly when she noticed the tightness in Paige’s smile, the way her weight was shifted entirely to her right knee.

Azzi shook her head and made her way over, weaving easily through the people standing near Paige. “Alright, alright,” she said, her voice cutting through the chatter in a playful way to not draw too much attention. “Give her some room, y’all. She’s gotta rest that superstar knee.”

The crowd dispersed almost immediately, some people backing away sheepishly while others gave her a grin, clearly recognizing her from school as well. Paige glanced at her, relief flashing in her eyes as Azzi handed her one of the bottles.

“Sit,” Azzi said firmly but gently, her hand brushing Paige’s shoulder as she guided her back to the couch.

Paige exhaled as she sank back down, her fingers wrapping around the bottle. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing sideways at Azzi.

Azzi dropped down beside her, leaning back casually. “No problem. You’re the one who decided to be famous, though,” she teased, earning a soft laugh from Paige.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sign up for this part,” Paige muttered, though her tone was light.

Azzi chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Welcome to the life, Bueckers.

As the crowd thinned out around them, Paige and Azzi settled back into their own bubble of conversation. Paige leaned back against the couch, her bottle of water balanced on her knee. Azzi, ever relaxed, stretched out beside her, one arm resting along the back of the couch.

“So,” Azzi said, her voice soft but teasing, “you having fun yet?”

Paige smiled faintly, glancing at her. “I guess. It’s... different.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Different good or different bad?”

“Good,” Paige replied quickly, then hesitated before adding, “Probably because I’m here with you. If it was anyone else I would be miserable.”

Azzi froze mid-sip of her water, her eyebrow arching higher as she set the bottle down. “Wait a second,” she said, her tone dripping with playful suspicion. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Paige?”

Paige’s eyes widened slightly at the accusation, her ears turned red as she stumbled over her words. “No! I—I was just saying—”

Azzi leaned closer, giving her an amused, knowing look. “Mhm. Sure you were.”

Paige groaned, looking away to hide her flustered expression. “I wasn’t,” she mumbled, though her voice lacked conviction.

Azzi let it go—for now—but the teasing smile never left her lips as she leaned back, clearly picking up on Paige’s reaction.

A little while later though Azzi knew she wasn’t making things up in her head.

One of Azzi’s friends walked by, their arm brushing against Azzi’s as they held a drink, and in the process, the liquid sloshed over the edge, spilling onto Azzi’s shirt.

“Dude you’re drunk!” Azzi exclaimed with a laugh, pulling her shirt away from her skin as it stuck to her chest uncomfortably.

“Sorry!” her friend called back, but Azzi just waved it off.

Paige, however, couldn’t help but glance down. The damp fabric clung to Azzi’s chest, highlighting the curves beneath. She quickly looked away, but it was too late. Azzi had caught her.

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, but her eyes glinted with something as she grabbed a napkin to dab at the spill. After a moment, she set the napkin down and turned toward Paige, her movements a little slow.

“What were you looking at Paige?” Azzi asked, her voice low and teasing as she leaned in slightly

“Nothing!” Paige said quickly, though her voice cracked slightly, betraying her.

Azzi smirked, inching closer until Paige instinctively leaned back against the wall, Azzi made her stand by in the name of getting her knee used to standing. Azzi placed a hand on the table beside Paige, her other hand reaching up to twirl a strand of Paige’s hair around her finger.

“Hmm,” Azzi mused, tilting her head as she studied Paige’s flustered expression. “You sure? Because it kinda looked like you were... distracted.”

Paige swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “I wasn’t.”

Azzi’s smirk deepened as she fluttered her eyelashes, leaning just a fraction closer. “Paigey...” she whispered, her voice almost a purr. “Do you have a crush on me?”

The words sent a jolt through Paige, and she found herself nodding before she could think, her brain short-circuiting under Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi blinked, momentarily surprised by the response, but then her expression softened into something almost unreadable. Her hand stilled in Paige’s hair, her thumb brushing against the strand lightly before she pulled back with a smile.

“Well,” Azzi said softly, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and something else Paige couldn’t quite place. “Good to know.”

Paige stared at her, still trying to process what had just happened, as Azzi settled back into her seat on the couch, acting like nothing had happened. But the glint in her eyes and the slight curve of her lips said otherwise.

Azzi kept her teasing smile as she leaned back into the couch, picking up her drink and taking a casual sip. Paige, still frozen against the wall, tried to compose herself.

“So,” Azzi said after a moment, glancing sideways at Paige, “what’s going on in that head of yours, huh?”

Paige forced a laugh, her voice slightly shaky. “Nothing. Just... thinking about how weird this party is.”

Azzi smirked, clearly not buying it, but she let it slide. “Weird, huh? I don’t know—seems pretty normal to me.” She raised an eyebrow, her tone playful. “Or are you just feeling weird because I called you out?”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Azzi, please. Don’t start.”

Azzi chuckled. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

Before Paige could respond, someone called Azzi over to the kitchen. She excused herself, leaving Paige to sit there, her thoughts swirling.

When Azzi returned a few minutes later, she plopped back down beside Paige with two more fresh waters. “Here,” she said, handing one to Paige.

“Thanks,” Paige muttered, her cheeks still faintly pink.

Azzi grinned as she twisted the cap off her own bottle. “You’re welcome. You good now, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

Paige glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. “You’re the worst.”

“Nah,” Azzi said, leaning back lazily and tossing her arm along the back of the couch, close enough that her hand brushed Paige’s shoulder. “Apparently you like me too much to think that.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched, betraying the smile she was trying to suppress.

As the night went on, the two of them fell into their usual rhythm of casual conversation as if nothing happened. Paige occasionally chimed in when Azzi’s friends asked her a question, but for the most part, she stayed content in her role as an observer.

It wasn’t until they were heading home that Azzi brought it up again.

The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine and SZA playing quietly in the background filling the space between them. Paige stared out the window, her knee bouncing slightly in a restless rhythm.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who talks so much,” Azzi said, breaking the silence.

Paige glanced at her, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone she was holding. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replied, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Paige shifted, trying to focus on the passing streetlights. But then Azzi glanced over at her, catching the faint way Paige’s eyes flickered toward her hands on the steering wheel.

“You keep looking at me,” Azzi said suddenly, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

“I am not!” Paige said, her voice shooting up an octave as her ears turned red.

Azzi laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind. I actually kinda like it.”

Paige groaned, sinking into her seat. “Can we not do this right now?”

Azzi shrugged, her grin never faltering. “Fine. I’ll save it for later.”

Paige sighed, but her lips twitched despite herself hanging on to the way Azzi said she liked it. She glanced at Azzi again out of the corner of her eye, noticing the way the passing streetlights highlighted her profile—her relaxed grip on the wheel, the faint smirk tugging at her lips, the calm confidence she always seemed to carry now.

Deciding to be a little bold and before she could second-guess herself, Paige blurted, “You looked really good tonight.”

Azzi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a moment, the car was silent except for the hum of the music. She glanced at Paige briefly, her expression unreadable, before a small smile curved her lips.

“Thank you Paige,” Azzi said softly, her voice quieter than usual.

Paige’s ears burned, and she quickly turned her gaze back to the window, biting back a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

Azzi chuckled, the warm sound filling the space between them. “Too late.”

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but Paige couldn’t shake the small, knowing smile Azzi wore the rest of the way home.

As they pulled into Paige’s driveway, Azzi shifted the car into park. She glanced at Paige, her earlier teasing replaced by a softer expression. “Well, here you are, safe and sound.”

Paige hesitated, fiddling with her seatbelt. ���Do you, um… do you want to stay over? It’s late, and I’d rather you not drive home alone.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her gaze. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Paige rolled her eyes, already pushing the door open. “Azzi, just come in. It’s not a big deal.”

Azzi chuckled softly, unbuckling her seatbelt and following Paige to the door.

When they stepped inside, the faint sound of video game explosions filled the living room. Drew, was sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

Paige sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Yo what are you still doing up?”

Drew jumped up, his boundless energy kicking in as soon as he noticed her. “Paige!” he exclaimed, jumping toward her before his attention shifted to Azzi. His eyes widened slightly, and he hurried to put the controller down, becoming more calm.

“I’m Drew,” he said confidently, holding out his hand like a little gentleman.

Azzi smiled, shaking his hand. “Azzi. Nice to meet you.”

Drew grinned up at her, his voice brimming with admiration. “You’re really pretty.”

Azzi laughed softly, her gaze flicking to Paige. “That seems to be a thing for the Bueckers family tonight.”

Paige groaned, already starting to head toward the stairs, albeit slowly due to her knee. “Oh my god, Drew, go to bed,” she called over her shoulder.

Azzi followed behind her, suppressing a grin as Drew called after them. “Goodnight, Azzi!”

Azzi’s laughter echoed softly as they climbed the stairs, and Paige shook her head, muttering, “I don’t know where he gets it from.”

When they reached Paige’s room, she pushed the door open and gestured for Azzi to come in. “You can hang out in here for a sec I’ll grab you something to drink.”

Azzi stepped inside, taking in the trophies, photos, and basketball memorabilia that decorated the space. “Nice room,” she said, settling onto the edge of Paige’s bed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Paige teased, disappearing to the kitchen.

Azzi leaned back slightly, her gaze lingering on the doorway where Paige had just disappeared. Her smile softened, and she shook her head, amused at how easily the night had taken such an unexpected—yet intriguing—turn. Anyone with eyes could see that Paige was attractive but Azzi never let thoughts linger too much of anything beyond that. But now Azzi sat there thinking about her and Paige’s dynamic, it definitely wasn’t lost on Azzi how much time they had spent together. How Paige was able to get her out of the bed at all hours of the night with just a FaceTime call. How easily they had fallen into each other's orbit after breaking past the tension they once had.

When Paige returned to her room, she found Azzi standing by her shelf, studying a framed photo of Paige with her teammates. “You were tiny in this,” Azzi commented with a small smile, glancing over her shoulder.

Paige set the drink down on her nightstand, rolling her eyes as she started undoing her bulky metal knee brace. “I wasn’t that small. You were just as scrawny back then.”

Azzi smirked, turning to face her fully. “Yeah, but now I’ve got muscles. You’re still trying to catch up.”

“Whatever,” Paige shot back with a grin, adjusting her leg with a slight wince as she set the brace aside. She got up and moved to her dresser, rummaging through the drawers until she found a soft hoodie and a pair of shorts. “Here,” she said, holding them out to Azzi. “I already put a toothbrush for you in the bathroom.”

Azzi walked over, taking her time as she crossed the room. When she reached for the clothes, her fingers deliberately brushed against Paige’s. The subtle touch lingered just a second too long, and when Paige glanced up, Azzi’s eyes were unreadable but warm.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, her voice light but carrying a hint of something Paige couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” Paige mumbled, quickly stepping back as if the proximity was suddenly overwhelming.

Azzi’s lips curved into a faint smirk, and without another word, she turned and headed for the bathroom. Paige watched her go, her stomach twisting in a way that was both confusing and exciting.

The soft click of the bathroom door brought Paige back to reality, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She flopped onto her bed, pressing her hands over her face as her mind replayed the look in Azzi’s eyes

When Azzi emerged from the bathroom, the sound of her footsteps was soft but enough to draw Paige's attention. Glancing up from her phone, Paige’s eyes immediately caught on Azzi’s figure as she crossed the room. The oversized hoodie hung loosely on Azzi’s frame, her toned legs visible beneath the hem of her shorts. Her damp curly hair tumbled around her shoulders in an effortless way that made her look almost ethereal.

Paige gulped, quickly averting her gaze before she got caught staring. She swung her knee over the edge of the bed slowly and stood, grabbing her clothes. "I’m gonna hop in the shower now," she said, her voice sounding a little too rushed. "Be right back."

Azzi, who was checking her phone, gave a nonchalant hum of acknowledgment. "Take your time. Don’t hurt yourself, though."

Paige shot her a playful glare. "I’m not that helpless, you know."

Azzi smirked, not looking up. "Sure, you’re not."

With that, Paige escaped into the bathroom, closing the door and letting out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding. What is wrong with me? she thought as she set her clothes down and began the careful process of getting in the shower.

The shower helped clear her head, but it took longer than she anticipated with her knee, which was stiff from the day. By the time she emerged, dressed in her own oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair still damp, she felt a little more composed. That composure, however, faltered the moment she stepped into the room.

Azzi was laid out on Paige’s bed, her hair in curls sprawled everywhere as she scrolled through her phone. She looked entirely too comfortable, her body stretched out and her face lit by the soft glow of the screen.

Paige froze for a moment, her stomach fluttering. Something about seeing Azzi so relaxed in her space made her heart skip a beat. "You look a little too at home," Paige teased, trying to cover the nervousness in her voice.

Azzi turned her head, a slow grin spreading across her face. "You’re the one who invited me in. What did you expect?"

Paige scoffed, moving toward the bed with her hands tucked into the pocket of her hoodie. "Just don’t hog all the pillows," she muttered, sinking down onto the mattress.

Azzi let out a soft laugh, her eyes glinting with amusement. "No promises. You know I sleep a little crazy sometimes."

Paige rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she settled against the headboard. Despite the teasing, the air between them was warm, and Paige found herself relaxing, even if the butterflies in her stomach were stubbornly refusing to settle.

Azzi’s gaze flicked down to Paige’s leg, the faint furrow of concern returning. "Hey," she said, her voice softer now. "Before we knock out, let’s switch spots. You should be on the inside, where your knee’s by the wall."

Paige blinked at her. "I’m fine, Azzi. You don’t have to—"

"Humor me," Azzi interrupted, sitting up and giving her an expectant look. "I’d rather not accidentally knee you in the middle of the night."

Paige hesitated for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Fine. But if I wake up smooshed against the wall, I’m blaming you."

Azzi grinned, already shifting so Paige could scoot over. As Paige moved, Azzi reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a cozy darkness. The faint light from the street outside filtered through the blinds, casting soft patterns on the walls as the two of them settled into place.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of blankets as they got comfortable. The tension was noticeable, though not unpleasant. This was different from the other times they’d ended up in the same bed—those moments had been accidental, born of exhaustion or laziness. The two of them falling asleep watching a movie or Azzi throwing a pillow at Paige in the middle of the night after the blonde fell asleep on Azzi’s beanbag telling her to get in the bed. But now, they were both wide awake, fully aware of each other’s presence in the shared space.

Paige lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Azzi beside her. She could feel the faint warmth of Azzi’s arm, just inches from her own, and it took everything in her not to glance over.

"Well, this isn’t awkward at all," Azzi said suddenly, her soft chuckle breaking the silence.

Paige turned her head, giving her a mock glare. "You saying that made it awkward."

Azzi smirked, rolling her eyes. "No, it didn’t. I was just stating a fact."

"It was fine until you opened your mouth," Paige teased, her voice light but edged with humor.

"Okay, so if I stop talking, we’ll be back to normal?" Azzi challenged, her tone playful as she shifted onto her side to face Paige.

Paige’s lips twitched upward. "I don’t know. I feel like the damage is already done."

"Wow," Azzi said dramatically. "Way to make me feel self-conscious."

"Good," Paige shot back, smiling now.

Azzi shook her head, grinning as she propped her head up on her hand. Her dark eyes studied Paige for a moment before she asked, "So, was today exhausting for you? Or are you secretly a robot and just pretending to be tired?"

Paige laughed softly, glancing at the ceiling. "No, it was exhausting. My knee’s sore from all the moving around, and my social battery is completely drained."

Azzi’s brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across her face. "Your knee’s sore? Why didn’t you say anything?"

Paige shrugged. "It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had worse days."

Azzi hummed, not entirely convinced but letting it slide. Her gaze lingered on Paige’s face as the faint light from the window shifted, casting a soft glow that made the blue in Paige’s eyes seem impossibly bright.

For a moment, Azzi found herself captivated, the vivid color catching her off guard. It reminded her of the sky after a storm, a striking clarity that was hard to look away from.

"You’re really pretty, Paige," Azzi murmured, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

Paige turned her head fully toward Azzi, her cheeks flushing slightly. A shy smile crept onto her lips as she whispered back, "You’re really pretty too, Azzi."

Azzi’s heart skipped at Paige’s response, the quiet sincerity in her voice making the moment feel heavier in the best way. Neither of them looked away, the stillness between them now filled with an unspoken understanding.

"Do your eyes always look like that?" Azzi asked softly, almost to herself.

Paige blinked, confused. "Like what?"

"That blue," Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They seem…different."

Paige’s blush deepened, and she bit her bottom lip to hide her growing smile. "I guess… I don’t know they’re just eyes, Azzi." Paige said, trying to hide just how much those words affected her.

"If you say so," Azzi said, the words so quiet they barely reached Paige’s ears.

The softness of Azzi’s tone settled over them like a blanket, and neither of them spoke again. Paige slowly turned onto her side to look at Azzi, her exhaustion catching up with her as her eyelids began to droop. Azzi stayed where she was, her gaze lingering on Paige’s relaxed features until she finally let herself sink into the quiet comfort of the moment, her eyes closing as she softly held Paige’s forearm.

[doki-doki-imagines]

author note: fic written a long time ago, but that is really fitting now. Hope you'll enjoy reading it!💫

“Michael is inside the locker room, you should see him.” Noa’s voice is firm, as always, even after such a big defeat, for him, it’s just like finishing a chapter, ready to start the new one, not many afterthoughts to ruin his next steps.

Michael Kaiser, your boyfriend can’t deal with defeat as well.

You enter the empty room, only your boyfriend is in, sitting in his sweat-drenched uniform, a towel covering his face.

You take uneasy steps toward his figure, he doesn’t even look up, too absorbed in his own world.

“Michael, I’m here, can you look at me?” You sit next to him, the bench creaks under your weight, you pinch the corner of the towel trying to lift it up, to finally see Michael’s face.

Your hand gets slapped away.

“Don’t even try it.” Some time ago this crude and cold voice would have swollen your eyes with tears, you would have been able to hear just the crippling hate in his voice.

Now you can hear the sad undertone and how the hate isn’t for you, but only for himself.

“What do you want to look at-“ he stands up abruptly, the bench recoil, the towel falls on the ground “At this failure! At this poor excuse of a player, walking trash-“ Michael can’t finish his phrase, broken sobs interrupt.

His blue eyes are bloodshot, the red of his makeup staining his face, sticky with dried tears. Michael is trembling, you don’t know if for sadness or anger, he is hitting his chest with his left fist, while the right hand is pinching his neck, the skin is broken, some drop of blood on his roses tattoo.

“Michael stop-“ You try to walk near your boyfriend, but he pushes you away and crouch on himself hands now covering his face

“No! You can’t understand, you don’t want to understand! This is all my life, I’m nothing- I shouldn’t even live if-“

“Michael!” You shout, finally stepping closer “Don’t you dare finish that phrase.”

It wasn’t the first time Michael got depressed after a match, but this is a peak he never reached before and it indescribably broke your heart.

He finally looks up, new tears forming in his deep blue eyes, you gently hold his cheeks with your hands, and lift his face up so you could look at him straight in the eyes.

“Your value as a person doesn’t depend on a match, no wait let me reformulate. Your value doesn’t depend on football. And don’t you dare-“ This time you are the one letting out a sigh “to say that you shouldn’t live anymore, because I can’t imagine a life without you.”

You kiss his forehead just before hugging him tight against your body, your right hand caressing his head.

Michael doesn’t reply back, he just keeps sobbing and crying on your shoulder.

“Please Michael stop crying, but I promise, losing this match won’t be your end, there will be a ton of other occasions, please Michael believe me.” You coo at him.

“O-Ok” His body still trembles under you.

“Can you look at me when you say that?” You say softly before kissing the top of his head.

He lift up from your shoulder and nod, a wobbly smile appearing on his face, his breath still being broken by sobs.

You smooch his forehead again, this time the contact last longer and he closes his eyes in relaxation, finally the sobs and sighs are slowing down and he is regaining control of his body.

“Can I kiss you even if I look like a mess?”  

A small laugh escapes your lips but you nod.

“I find you handsome-“  “you look like a wet kitty, love it.” You wanted to say, but his mouth catch yours before you can finish.

His chapped lips find yours. It’s a slow dance, made of broken breaths bound by a strong love. Your right hand drying away those fresh tears, your thumb moving slow circles on his sticky cheeks, the left one finds peace in the back of his neck, scratching his little hair knowing full well he loves it.

He is way more restless, the right hand that was holding your arm to keep you as close as possible to his body find soon his way to your waist, fingers moving up and down pressing and releasing your waist like a piano key hoping to generate a new sound at every broken breath. His left one is kept firmly in the back of your head, pushing your face impossibly close to his, nose bumping, eyelashes caressing each other faces.

It’s when you feel the familiar feeling of something wet in your mouth that your mind return to reality.

“Michael, ehi-“ You put both your hands on his chest gently pushing on his pecs “I think you should take a shower.”

He looks at you with his wide blue eyes and tilts his head clearly looking at you like you just said the dumbest thing on Earth.

“Are you saying I stink?”

This time it isn’t small laughter that leaves your lips, but one of those that shakes your entire body and that makes Michael look at you with even wider eyes.

“Yes a little, but that wasn’t my main point. I think you need to take a hot shower, relax and come home with me and watch a film that neither of us is gonna finish because we’ll both fall asleep the second I press play.”

The blonde seems to think about it a little before nodding, walking towards the locker room’s showers stripping at every step for the joy of your eyes, till he disappears around the corner the sound of running water filling the room.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna join me?” Just his head pop out from behind the wall, water already dripping down his face and hair, a particular droplet following the line of his veins down his neck, skin shiny and inviting-

“Go finish your shower, there will be better times.” You see his head bending down, probably preparing his better kitty eyes to convince you “At home we’ll have all the time of this world for example.”

Michael never finished a shower so fast.

[pupkashi]

“can i hug you? you look like you could do with it”

a/n: hi friends ! i hope u all enjoy this :] thank u for the request and sorry for taking so long :( i feel like this is slightly ooc for satoru but oh well :P

wordcount: 1,661

masterlist

you always watched gojo from a far, always a bit intimidated by the much taller sorcerer. he was carefree, always standing up to the higher ups in ways you’d only daydreamed of. he always spoke his mind, never once holding his tongue when it came to insulting those he disliked.

you’d always give him small smiles, telling him good morning and to have a good evening the times you had passed by him, not wanting to seem rude.

he would always say it back, continuing the conversation with you until you parted ways. he’d stand up for you during meetings, never allowing the higher ups to disrespect you. anytime he’d see your eyes widen a bit at the mention of a mission that seemed too difficult, he was quick to offer himself up in your place.

“don’t you geezers think i should take the mission on? y/n had something planned for the students anyway” he says, anger evident in his voice, but he’s shooting you a smile and a thumbs up as he speaks.

“fine, you can take this one gojo” one of the higher ups say, “y/n you’re free to leave.”

gojo watched you with a love struck look on his face. one you didn’t notice as you were too busy scurrying out of the room, trying your best to not get on the higher ups bad side.

after the third meeting of gojo taking on your missions you decided you should at least thank the man. you approached him shyly, giving him a small smile and saying hello, gojo smiled brightly at you, asking how you were.

the two of you clicked fairly quickly, eating lunch together when you could and making easy conversation. you’d listen to him gush about the first years and shit on the higher ups and he’s listen to you rant about your day and talk about the shows you were watching.

it’d only been a couple weeks since the two of you actually started to get to know each other, but you considered him a friend of yours, even if sometimes you did wish it was more than friendship.

you find yourself walking the empty halls on a thursday afternoon, the clocks ticking in the classrooms as you passed by them, heading towards your office to finish up some paperwork before the higher ups would get onto you for it. the setting sun causes golden rays to leak through the countless windows, shining on you as you continue down the halls.

there’s a cool breeze as you step outside, a sigh as you hold onto the papers in your hands a bit tighter, walking towards the garden area to cut through and get to your office a bit quicker.

a mess of snowy white hair catches your eye, making you slow your steps.

gojo satoru sat on one of the many benches, his elbows resting on top of his knees, chin in his hands. his uniform was a bit scuffed, you could only assume he’d gone out on a mission and only recently returned.

his eyes were covered by the familiar black blindfold, but there was a small frown on his lips. you debated not cutting through the garden today, leaving your new friend unbothered, but your body make the choice for you, already walking towards the strongest sorcerer with a small smile on your face.

“good afternoon gojo” you greeted, still a couple steps away when he turned to look at you, his entire demeanor changing to his usual cheery self.

“hey y/n! whatcha up to now?” his head titled a bit to the side, the mannerism reminding you of a puppy.

“just paperwork, how bout you?” you reply, sitting next to him on the bench, setting your papers down next to you, phone placed on top so they didn’t fly away.

“oh the usual,” he sighs, tilting his head back with a sigh, “thinking about my students, the future for the Jujutsu world and our place in the universe” he laughs dryly and you chuckle softly.

“but hey! there’s nothing gojo satoru can’t do” there’s a strained cheeriness to his tone, it’s makes your chest tighten. a tight smile paints his features, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes like it usually does. his shoulders are slumped and there’s no confident aura like there usually is.

now it’s your turn to frown, looking at him with gentle eyes before you’re speaking up, “can i hug you? you look like you could do with it” your face is burning and your heart is racing.

gojo is looking at you dumbfounded, did you really just ask him that? did someone tell you about his little crush on you?

“sorry! i didn’t mean to cross a line since we just-” you begin, your hands waving apologetically before you’re cut off with his arms around you.

the sudden contact renders you still for a second, then you’re snaking your arms around his neck, letting one of your hands find purchase on the back of his neck.

he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, you can hear a soft hiccup leave his mouth. you don’t mention it, you only squeeze him tighter to you, trying to hold him together, trying to show him you’re there for him.

“it’s okay” you whisper, “I’m right here for you.” your words seem to strike something in him, as his grip around you tightens, his arms are firm around your waist, his fingers gripping the fabric of your uniform, as if he was scared if he let go you’d disappear.

it’s only minutes later of your hushed reassurance that he’s loosening his grip on you, pulling away with a bashful smile on his face.

“if we weren’t friends before we certainly are now” you smile at him softly. the words elicit a chuckle from the sorcerer.

“who told you?” he asks suddenly, following your movements as you pick up the stack of papers next to you.

“told me what?” your brows are furrowed softly and he can’t help but think of how adorable you look.

“‘bout how i like you” he smiles, his confidence already back in full swing as he’s grinning down at you, loving the way you grew flustered at his words.

“what?! no! nobody told me anything!” you shriek, suddenly holding the papers tightly to your chest, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.

“huh, figured you would’ve noticed by now” he mumbled, “you didn’t think i was taking on all your difficult missions as a coincidence did ya?”

you’re speechless as you stare at the man infront of you, never once did the thought of the gojo satoru having feelings for you cross your mind.

“well- i mean i thought it was” you sputter out, “why would i think anything else” you laugh nervously, “i thought you were just being nice!”

satoru is just smiling at you, shaking his head and watching the way the gears turn in your head as you ramble on.

“- and so i didn’t want the entire world to just implode you know?” you look up at him, slightly out of breath and your eyes still a bit wide. “what?” you grin, taking in the way he’s looking at you, not exactly sure what he’s smiling about.

“so you do like me? or was that whole metaphor not really a metaphor and the future of the world is in the palm of your hands” his head is cocked to the side again, a cocky smile on his lips and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah” you breathe out, looking anywhere but him, trying to slow down your heart rate as you realize what you’ve just admitted and who you’d admitted it to.

satoru doesn’t care that your poor heart’s going a million miles an hour, he’s putting his hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he has a soft smile on his face, one that grows wider when he notices the way you squirm under his touch, flustered beyond belief.

“how about dinner tomorrow at 7? I’ll pick you up” there’s a reassuring calmness in his voice that makes you smile back at him, nodding and replying with an ‘okay.’

it’s quiet for a second between the two of you, but he’s quick to break the silence.

“thank you,” he clears his throat before elaborating, “for being here for me,” shifting in his seat as you look at him.

now it’s your turn to stare at him while his eyes are darting from plant to plant. you’re biting back a small smile as you reply, “course, I’ll always be here.”

satoru studies your features, only finding genuine kindness written across your face. the same kindness that made his mornings a bit brighter and his late nights less exhausting. the same smile that makes lunch breaks feel too short and missions away much too long.

the two of you sit on the bench long enough for the moon to say hello. both of yoh staring up at the sky and it’s stars, your hands rest in the space between the two of you, pinkies brushing every once in a while.

satoru is the first to make a move, linking his pinky around yours before diving in and intertwining your fingers with his.

the two of you continue talking, neither one of you daring to acknowledge your linked hands. the blush on satoru’s cheeks was a secret kept between the moon and him, and the way your stomach flipped was kept quiet between the stars and yourself.

when you finally do reach your office, it’s only to set your paperwork down on your desk, closing the door and taking satoru’s hand back in yours.

“ready?” he asks and you nod, letting him wrap an arm around you and hold you close to him, giggles leaving both of your lips as he walks you home.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[meadowfics]

lost island, found love

hwang jun-ho x female!reader

warnings: descriptions of death, guns, angst, i added reader's background that was not in this request but I felt like it could bring jun-ho and reader together! i am not responsible for the content you choose to read.

word count: 4013

you stand in the dimly lit room, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air. the body of the salesman lies slumped against the wall, lifeless, his once smug face frozen in a grimace. your fingers tremble slightly as you lower your gun, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

mr. kim is gone, killed by this salesman who now lies dead in front of you. 

gi-hun’s frantic voice echoes in your memory…his desperation when he begged you to find answers, to bring justice in order to get money. now, with the salesman gone, the trail feels cold.  

you don’t want to be here. not anymore. not with everything else hanging over your head like a storm cloud. hana is missing. your little sister, your only family left in the world. you’ve scoured every corner of the city, turned over every rock, but nothing. no sign of her. she wouldn’t just disappear. not her. not without a word.  

“we don’t have time for this,” a voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and impatient.  

you glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting the man who’s been reluctantly dragged into this mess with you..jun-ho. a police officer, driven, stubborn, and entirely too by-the-book for your taste. 

he leans against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.  

“gi-hun’s been taken to the island,” he continues, his tone clipped. 

“those people with the masks, they don’t wait around. if we don’t move fast, we’ll lose the trail.”  

you grit your teeth, your mind warring between two equally impossible choices. find the island where gi-hun is being held, or keep searching for hana. it feels cruel, having to pick one over the other.  

“you think i don’t know that?” you snap, your voice harsher than you intended.  

jun-ho doesn’t flinch. he crosses his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding. 

“then let’s go. unless you’ve got another plan?”  

you hate him a little in that moment. his calmness. his ability to compartmentalize. you can’t do that. not when every step you take feels like a betrayal of your sister. you know he’s right. if you don’t act now, gi-hun’s fate is sealed.  

“fine,” you mutter, shoving past him. 

“but don’t get in my way.”  

he follows without a word, and for a while, the only sounds are your footsteps echoing through the empty streets. the weight of your gun presses against your hip, a constant reminder of what this life has turned you into.  

jun-ho finally breaks the silence. 

“why’d you take this job?”  

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t answer.  

“because someone had to,” you say finally, your voice low.

“gi-hun deserved that much after everything he’s been through.”  

jun-ho nods, but you can feel his eyes on you, studying, prying. you don’t offer more. not about mr. kim. not about hana. not about the hollow ache in your chest that refuses to go away.  

the journey ahead feels impossibly long, but you push forward, each step heavier than the last. you don’t know if you’ll ever find the answers you’re looking for.. about gi-hun, about hana, about yourself. but for now, all you can do is keep moving.  

the next morning.. you’re in the small boat with a bunch of your ex-special forces mates.. gently rocking on the light waves, the rhythmic lapping of water against the hull doing little to calm the storm in your mind. 

there is a map spread out on the bench in front of you that feels more like a cruel joke than a guide. you’ve traced every possible route, every last scrap of information gi-hun left behind, but it’s like the island doesn’t exist.  

even though jun-ho insists that the island is a real place, and that he has been there too.

“anything?” jun-ho’s voice breaks through the silence, rough from hours of tension. he’s standing at the bow, one hand resting on the edge, the other gripping his radio.  

you don’t answer immediately, your eyes scanning the coordinates again, hoping something will click. the frustration is mounting. you’re used to solving problems quickly, decisively. in the special forces, there was no room for hesitation or failure. 

now, every passing hour feels like a countdown to losing gi-hun forever.  

“no,” you finally mutter, shoving the map aside. 

“it’s like they’ve erased the damn place off the face of the earth.”  

jun-ho exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the cracks forming. five days. that’s all the time you have before the trail goes completely cold, and neither of you can afford to waste another second.  

“we’re missing something,” he says, turning to face you. 

“they wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to make the island impossible to find. there has to be a way in. some clue we’re overlooking.”  

you lean back against the bench, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. your mind races through everything you’ve learned so far, piecing together fragments of intel like a puzzle.  

“it’s not just about the location,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“they’ve got to have a system. patterns. supply routes. something that gives them away.”  

jun-ho nods, stepping closer. 

“you think we’re being followed?”  

you glance up at him, narrowing your eyes. the thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, but it makes sense. an operation this big wouldn’t just let two random people snooping around go unnoticed.  

“probably,” you admit. 

“which means we’re running out of time faster than we thought.”  

he frowns, his jaw tightening. 

“great. so, we’re sitting ducks out here.”  

you pull your handgun from its holster, checking the magazine out of habit. 

“not exactly. i’m not going down without a fight.”  

jun-ho smirks faintly, though the tension never leaves his eyes. 

“you really are a piece of work, you know that?”  

“and you’re irritating,” you shoot back, sliding the gun back into place.

“guess we make a great team.”  

hours later.. the sun dips lower into the horizon, casting long shadows across the boat’s deck. the waves lap gently against the sides of the boat, though it does little to calm your racing thoughts.  

you glance over at jun-ho, standing near the bow with his hands gripping the edge. the man’s posture is tense, his shoulders squared as if bracing against some invisible weight. 

he hasn’t said much in hours, and you can’t help but notice the way his eyes flick toward the horizon and back, as though searching for something..or avoiding something.  

breaking the silence, you clear your throat. 

“you said you’ve been on this island before,” you start, your voice low but firm. 

“what did you find? if you don’t mind me asking.”  

jun-ho doesn’t turn to face you. his knuckles whiten against the edge of the boat, and his jaw tightens. the way his body stiffens tells you more than his silence does. he’s holding something back.  

“it’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his voice tight.  

you frown, stepping closer. 

“complicated how?”  

he finally turns his head, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before looking away. 

“it’s not something i like talking about.”  

jun ho’s answer frustrates you, but you bite back the sharp retort sitting on the tip of your tongue. you don’t have time for vague responses, not when every passing hour feels like another nail in the coffin for gi-hun..or worse, for hana who you could be looking for instead.  

“look,” you say, trying to keep your tone measured, “if we’re going to do this together, i need to know what we’re up against. whatever you saw, whatever you know, it could be the difference between us finding gi-hun or walking into a trap.”  

the police officer’s gaze drops to the deck, and for a moment, he says nothing. the sound of the waves fills the void, each crash amplifying the weight of his silence.  

“i saw the frontman,” he says finally, his voice barely audible.  

“wha- huh? the frontman?” you repeat, confused.  

he nods, his eyes still fixed on the deck. 

“he’s the one running the show, the man in charge of the island…i never got a good look at him. he always wore a mask but he nearly killed me.”  

the tension in your chest tightens like a coil. this new piece of information does little to ease your anxiety. did gi-hun know about this?

“that’s it?” you press, your frustration bleeding into your voice. 

“you didn’t see anything else?”  

jun-ho hesitates, his jaw clenching as if debating whether or not to say more. 

“no,” he says after a moment, but the hesitation in his tone sets off alarms in your head.  

“what aren’t you telling me?” you ask, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing.  

“nothing,” he snaps, a little too quickly.  

you don’t believe him, but you let it go for now. pushing him won’t get you the answers you need, and you can feel your own nerves fraying with every passing second.  

your thoughts drift, unbidden, to hana. the anxiety creeps in like a shadow, wrapping around your chest and squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. 

where is she? is she safe? the thought of her being hurt..or worse..makes your stomach churn.  

jun-ho’s voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts. 

“what’s your other problem?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost hesitant. 

“you mentioned it before, but you didn’t tell me what it was.”  

you hesitate, your fingers twitching at your sides. you’ve kept this to yourself for days, carrying the weight of it alone because you didn’t think anyone else would understand. but now, standing here with jun-ho, you feel the tiniest crack in your resolve.  

“it’s my sister,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.  

jun-ho’s brow furrows, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“your sister?”  

you nod, swallowing hard. 

“her name’s hana. she went missing a few days ago. no note, no sign of where she might’ve gone. we don’t have money and our parents died a few years ago, so it’s not like she could’ve just left on her own. she wouldn’t do that. she wouldn’t just disappear.”  

jun ho’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face… his hands clench at his sides, he looks as though he’s reliving a memory he’d rather forget.  

“maybe your sister is on the island too,” he mumbles, almost to himself.  

the words hit you like a slap. your head snaps up, your eyes widening. 

“excuse me?”  

he hesitates, his gaze dropping. 

“there’s something you need to know,” he says quietly, his voice weighed down by something heavy.  

you don’t say anything, your stomach twisting into knots as he sits down on the bench and motions for you to join him. you hesitate for a moment before sitting beside him, the tension between you almost unbearable.  

“the island,” he begins, his tone measured but laced with something darker, “isn’t just a place. it’s a... game. a series of games, actually. people are brought there, and they’re forced to compete. if they win, they get an obscene amount of money. if they lose...”  

he trails off, but you don’t need him to finish. the implication is clear, and it makes your blood run cold.  

“you’re telling me it’s some kind of... death game?” you whisper, your voice trembling.  

he nods grimly. 

“exactly that… and if your sister is there...”  

you don’t let him finish. you can’t. the thought is too unbearable. if hana is on that island, then every second counts.  

“did she leave anything behind?” jun-ho asks, his voice gentler now.  

you shake your head, your mind racing. 

“nothing. no clues, no messages. just... gone.”  

you feel something on your left hand and you look down to see that his hand brushes yours, tentative but steady. you glance at him, startled by the contact, but his expression is soft, almost reassuring. 

“we’ll find her,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.  

for a moment, you don’t respond. the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice..it’s almost too much to bear.  

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion.  

the two of you sit there in silence as the moon rises above the ocean, casting its pale light over the water. without thinking, you lean against him, your head resting lightly on his chest. he stiffens at first but then relaxes, his arm brushing around your shoulders in a way that feels deliberate.  

“we’ll figure this out,” he says again, his voice steady now.  

you nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment. the closeness between you feels... safe. like you’re not alone in this, even if it’s just for a night.  

by the time the sun rises, the moment is over. the vulnerability, the quiet intimacy.. it’s gone, replaced by the sharp focus of the mission ahead. neither of you mention it, but something unspoken lingers in the air, a bond forged in shared fears and quiet confessions.  

four days. that’s all you have left. 

in the early afternoon.. the boat slows as it approaches the shoreline. you grip the semi-automatic rifle in your hands, its familiar weight a comfort despite the unease settling in your chest. 

the island looms ahead, shadowed and uninviting, with dense foliage lining the shore and no sign of life beyond the eerie stillness.  

jun-ho steps off the boat first, his movements precise and calculated. the police officer’s handgun is holstered at his side as he holds the bigger automatic in his hands, his posture is straight. 

you follow, your boots crunching softly against the gravel as you step onto the narrow path ahead. the rest of the team falls in line behind you, their weapons raised, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.  

jun-ho turns to face the group, his expression stern.

“i’ll take point,” he says firmly, his gaze meeting yours briefly before moving on.  

“i can lead,” you interject, your voice steady but firm.  

“no?” you say. 

“yes.” he protests. 

“well, mr. policeman– were you in the special forces or is this you saying that you do not tru-” 

“let me just protect you, okay?” he says your name after. jun ho is clear. he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. 

the words catch you off guard, a warmth creeping into your chest despite the gravity of the situation. your grip on the rifle tightens as you search for something to say, but all you manage is a curt nod.  

“fine,” you mutter, falling into step behind him.  

the trail is narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. bushes and vines press in from both sides, the occasional rustle of leaves setting your nerves on edge. jun-ho’s steps are deliberate, his eyes constantly scanning the path ahead, while you cover his back, your weapon at the ready.  

you clear your throat, your voice low. 

“everything look okay up there?”  

he glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “so far,” he replies, his tone clipped but calm.  

the tension between you hums like a live wire, unspoken words lingering in the air. it’s not just the situation..it’s him. the way he moves, the way he keeps glancing back at you, as if he’s making sure you’re still there.  

you push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. the gravel crunches beneath your boots as the trail twists and turns, the thick canopy overhead blocking out most of the sunlight. the rest of the team moves in a tight formation, their weapons raised, their eyes darting to every shadow.  

“trail’s too clean,” you mutter under your breath, your gaze sweeping the ground. 

“like it’s been used recently.”  

jun-ho nods, his jaw tightening. 

“I noticed.”  

you glance at him, your brows furrowing. 

“so, what’s the plan if this is a setup?”  

he doesn’t answer right away, his focus on the path ahead. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and deliberate. 

“we deal with it. we’ve gotten this far.”  

jun ho’s confidence is steadying, even if you don’t entirely share it. you scan the surrounding foliage, the weight of the rifle in your hands grounding you.  

the gravel path suddenly widens, opening into a small clearing. jun-ho raises his hand, signaling for everyone to stop. the group freezes, weapons raised, as his sharp eyes scan the area.  

“what is it?” you ask, stepping closer to him.  

he gestures to the far side of the clearing, where another trail picks up. 

“it splits. two paths.”  

your stomach tightens. splitting up isn’t ideal, but staying bunched together could make you an easy target.  

“we should split into two groups,” jun-ho says, his voice calm but authoritative. 

“cover more ground.”  

you hesitate, glancing at him. 

“are you sure about that? we don’t know what’s out here.”  

“that’s why we keep communication tight,” he replies, his gaze locking with yours. 

“stay close to your group. and don’t take risks.”  

“fine,” you say again, your voice softer this time.  

as the group splits, you end up with jun-ho, a decision that seems less about strategy and more about his insistence on staying close to you. you can feel the others’ eyes on you, their curiosity unspoken but palpable.  

the new trail is narrower, the overgrowth pressing in from both sides. jun-ho keeps his pace steady, his shoulders brushing against yours occasionally as the path twists and turns. the silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken tension.  

finally, he breaks it. 

“you okay back there?”  

“i can handle myself,” you reply, a touch of defensiveness in your tone.  

he glances at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. 

“i know. doesn’t mean i won’t worry.”  

the warmth from earlier returns, stronger this time. you focus on the path ahead, unwilling to let him see how his words affect you.  

twelve hours later.. in the middle of the night in the lounge area, you feel suffocated. even with the boat’s attempt at cozy decor. the low hum of the boat engine is drowned out by the relentless patter of rain against the windows. 

you sit on the worn-out couch, staring blankly at the table in front of you. the rain, usually a source of comfort, does nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside you.  

you feel defeated. empty.  

the mission on the island earlier had led to nothing. the island turned out to be nothing more than a small, desolate beach. no inhabitants. no clues. nothing. 

three days left, and it felt like you were running out of time faster than you could grasp.  

your chest tightens as your thoughts drift to hana. after losing your parents, she was the only person who made life bearable. she kept you grounded, gave you a purpose and a source to keep surviving after leaving the special forces. when mr. kim introduced you to gi-hun, you found a new sense of direction, but hana? hana was always home, and now she is gone.  

your eyes sting, and before you know it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. you wipe at them angrily, frustrated at yourself for breaking down when you should be focusing. however, the thought of your sister..alone, scared, maybe hurt or worse..it’s too much.  

“why would she do this?” you whisper to the empty room, your voice trembling. 

“why would she risk her life for money?”  

your hands tremble as they clench into fists on your lap. you know the answer. it was always about survival, about getting out of the hole life had thrown you both into. hana didn’t know the cost. she didn’t know about the games, about the killings. 

she didn’t know that the promise of wealth came with the risk of ending up in a coffin on some forgotten island.  

a sob escapes your lips, and you bury your face in your hands, the weight of it all crashing down. the fear, the hopelessness, the anger.. it spills out in ragged breaths and muffled cries.  

you don’t notice the quiet footsteps until you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm, soft chest on the couch.  

“it’s okay,” jun-ho’s voice is soft, steady, grounding. 

“we’ll find her.”  

you stiffen at first, caught off guard by his presence, but his hand moves up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, and you let yourself lean into him.  

“i don’t know...” you choke out, your voice breaking. 

“i don’t know if we can.”  

jun-ho pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. his eyes are filled with something you don’t expect.. understanding.  

“i lost my brother many years ago,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that matches your own.  

you blink, your tears pausing for a moment. 

“your brother?”  

he nods, his gaze distant. 

“he disappeared without a trace. for years, i didn’t know what happened to him. i thought he was dead. then, when i found him... he wasn’t the same.”  

you can see the pain etched into his features, the weight of a story he hasn’t told anyone else.  

“but you know what?” he continues, his voice growing firmer. 

“i still went after him because he was my brother.. because that’s what you do for your family. and that’s what we’re going to do for your sister. we’re going to find hana. we’re going to find gi-hun, and we’re going to end this.”  

jun ho’s words wrap around you like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral of despair. you don’t know how he does it.

you don’t say anything, but you shift closer to him, burying your face in his chest again. the policeman’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he’s the only thing keeping you together.  

as the rain continues to fall outside, the world beyond the boat fades away. all you can feel is the warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his presence anchors you.  

after a while, you sit up, wiping at your tear-streaked face. jun-ho reaches out, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. the tenderness of the gesture sends a shiver through you.  

“you’re way stronger than you think,” he says softly, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.  

your eyes meet his, and something shifts in the air between you. the tension that’s been building over the past few days comes to a head, and before you can think twice, you lean in.  

the moment your lips meet his, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. the man’s left hand cups your cheek and his right hand grabs your lower waist, pulling you closer, and you feel the weight of his kiss. 

he kisses you back with a quiet dominance, his other hand resting on your waist, holding you steady. it’s not just a kiss…it’s a promise. a promise that he’s here, that he’ll protect you, that you’re not alone.  

your hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to reality. the rain pounds against the windows, the boat rocking gently with the waves, but all you can focus on is him.  

when you finally pull back, your breaths are heavy, your foreheads resting against each other. his eyes search yours, and you see the same vulnerability reflected back at you.  

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady.  

you nod, your fingers brushing against his jaw. 

“together.”  

he kisses you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. and for the first time in days, you feel a spark of hope reignite in your chest.  

outside, the rain continues to fall, the boat drifting along the waves. somewhere out there is the island you’ve been searching for, the answers you desperately need. 

for now, at this moment, all you can think about is the strong man holding you and how his lips give you the reassurance that you desperately need.

a/n: hope you enjoyed <3

[insidekatmind]

Secret Love-Pope Heyward

Wearning: cheating, english is not my first language.

The silence of the empty classroom was broken only by the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. The neon lights above you flickered faintly, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The air was dense with tension, the kind of tension that made you check the door every now and then to make sure no one could see you.

Yet, you were there. With him. With Pope Heyward, the guy you should never have looked at like that. A pogue.

Your back was pressed against the cold surface of the bench, and he was in front of you, so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Pope’s eyes were dark and watchful, watching you as if every move you made could be your last. There was desire in his eyes, but also hesitation.

"We should go," he whispered, his voice a breath that made you shiver all the way down your back. "If anyone sees us..."

"There’s no one," you answer, your tone more forceful than I expected. You grab his sweatshirt with your fingers, pulling it slightly towards you. "There’s no one here, Pope."

He hesitates for a moment. You know what he’s thinking. Rafe Cameron, your boyfriend, at least in appearance. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple: Princess Kook and the rebellious heir of the Cameron family. But you hated him. You couldn’t stand his way of controlling you, his overblown ego and his need to make you feel "her" all the time.

Yet, with Pope, it was different. There was no control, only freedom. There was no pressure, only desire.

"Rafe would kill us if he saw us," Pope muttered, his eyes fixed on your lips. His voice was husky, as if he was wrestling with himself.

"Rafe knows nothing," you answer without hesitation, your hand now slips on his neck. "And he will never know."

Pope closed his eyes for a second, maybe to gather courage or maybe to accept the fact that whatever this was between you two, it wouldn’t be over soon. When he opened them again, there was no doubt.

"You’re incredible, you know?" he said, with a half smile that made your heart beat fast.

"I know." Reply with a provocative grin.

His laugh was silent but sincere, as if he had forgotten for a moment all the risk you were taking. But he did not wait any longer. His hands gently laid on your hips, pulling you closer. The distance between you was reduced to nothing.

Your eyes closed a moment before his lips found yours.

He was slow at first, as if he wanted to savour every moment, but soon the rhythm changed. The kiss became deeper, more hungry. You felt his fingers press on your hips, your hands between her curls, pulling lightly, and the soft sound of your breaths mixed with the echo of the silence of the empty class.

There was no one. Just you two.

Pope’s taste was unique, sweet but with a hint of rebellion, as if he knew exactly that you were challenging the whole world. Your head tilted slightly, letting him deepen the kiss, and you felt his body press against yours. Your heart was beating so fast you feared for a moment that he could hear it.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his hands slid under the edge of your sweatshirt, touching your skin with hot fingers.

"You too," you confess fearlessly, looking into his eyes. "And you know what?"

"What?" he asked, his gaze fixed on yours.

"I don’t want to stop."

His lips folded into a smile, and without a word, kissed you again, stronger this time, with the certainty of having accepted his destiny. The bench behind you barely creaked as it pushed you against it. You seemed to be in another dimension, far from Rafe, far from the judgment of all the kooks, far from the outside world.

Just you and him.

His hands explored you with a sweetness you had never known before. There was no possession, only genuine desire. There was no control, only freedom. And you loved every single moment.

"You realize we’re playing with fire, right?" he whispered against your skin, leaving little kisses on your neck.

"I like fire," you reply, tilting slightly to give it more space.

Pope’s laughter was hushed, as if he could not believe what was happening. But he did not stop. His hands moved with confidence, and you felt more alive than you ever had with Rafe.

"I don’t want to be just your secret," he admitted suddenly, looking into your eyes with a seriousness that caught you by surprise.

Your breath stopped. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. You knew what it meant. He didn’t want to be just a diversion, an escape from your boyfriend Kook.

"You’re not," you answer honestly, looking him straight in the eye. "You’re all I want, Pope."

Those words changed everything. You feel it in the way his hands held you more tightly, in the way his kiss became deeper, more desperate. There were no more brakes, no more fear.

There were no limits.

You didn’t care about Rafe. You didn’t care about the Kooks. You didn’t care about anyone but him.

You heard a noise far away - a door opening down the hall. Your eyes slammed to the classroom door, but Pope did not move.

"It’s all right," he reassured you, his warm breath on your cheek. "They don’t know we’re here."

You nodded slowly, but your heart was beating in your chest. The fear of being caught was real, but the desire to stay there with him was stronger.

His hands slid to your face, holding it gently as your eyes crossed.

"You’re too dangerous for me," he joked, a smile that made your heart beat even faster.

"You have no idea," you reply, tilting your head to kiss him again.

It was risky, it was wrong, but it was the only right thing you did in all this chaos.

And you wouldn’t regret it.

[emsgwenstan]

Why not me?

Larissa Weems x fem reader {angst}

words: idk 2.5k?

warnings: language.

note: ok idek what this is, i haven't written anything in months because of burnout, so really just something i pulled from drafts.

“Don’t.” It was to the point; it was sharp and clear. I picked up my handbag, coat and gloves and evacuated the room as swiftly as possible.

Slamming the door behind me, I could feel its vibration, the loud noise echoing through the halls and corridors, just like every one of my steps down the marble stairs. Frustratedly, I rummage through my bag to find my car keys, desperately needing something to just go my way, I plucked them out and balled the abundance of jagged metal in my fist while storming across the cobblestone to reach my car.

The second I sat in the driver's seat, tears started to roll down my cheeks and my nose started tingling, I shove the keys into the ignition and reverse out of the staff lot before practically doing a burnout when setting off. Where to go now is the question. Where to go indeed. The only home I’ve ever known is nevermore, the safe place I retreat to when the outside world is far too cruel, when normies are unkind and when life gets too much.

Every possible place I think to go isn’t an option, they are all riddled with memories of her, there’s nowhere in the whole of Jericho that I haven’t been with her, the park benches and weathervane after getting hot chocolates on a sunny winters day, the local bookstore on a windy spring morning, the clearing just off the road in the woods on a gloomy autumn afternoon, or the empty fair ground on a cool summers night.

“Oh, you would love her y/n, she very pretty and quite the catch, she flatters me all the time and is very sweet-.” “Don’t.” The conversation plays on a loop, God why? Why wasn’t I enough? The trees reflections whipping across the windscreen seemed to become faster. “Goodness, can you believe she asked me? I haven’t been on a date in years.” She had said. “Help me find something to wear dear?” She asked, and, without question I did.

My grip on the wheel becomes tighter until my knuckles turn white and crescent shapes are imbedded into my palms. Did she not know? Didn’t she realize? Has she not seen the way I look at her? Before I drive myself out of the town ship I stop on the side of the road. I just sit there, I sit and cry for a long time, even as dusk falls and night comes, I sit and cry.

Many cars have passed my own, however none caught my attention until I heard one ripping down the road sounding like it’s going a million miles an hour, when it passed the brake lights almost immediately illuminated my skin and the tires screeched as it stopped, my brows crease in confusion until it reversed back alongside me. Quickly I came to realize who it was. Larissa.

Without second thought I tried turning my car on though it wouldn’t turn over, how bloody convenient. I looked to my side to see her get out and run to my door. “Shit.” I breathed. She reached for the handle and was stunned when she couldn’t open it a dumbfounded expression overtook her pale features. “Open the door.” She pleaded I didn’t look at her, I kept my eyes in front of me still trying to start the engine. “Darling open the door.” She begged, her voice cracking and muffled by the glass.

“Y/n so help me god I will smash this window if you don’t open the damn door.” Her accent became thicker as she yelled. I just wanted her to go away, I rest my temple on the headrest in defeat. For a moment it was quiet- too quiet, that was until I heard her door slam close. I peeled my eyes open and saw her wrapping a cashmere scarf around her wrist, immediately in rage I unlocked my door and stepped out. “What the hell are you doing!?” I seethed. “What am I doing!?” She asked incredulously unwinding the material. “What the hell are you doing!? Where have you been? I called you close to forty times with no answer, I thought you were hurt! I thought something bad happened!”

“Why do you care?” I spat, the bitterness rearing its ugly head. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend, of course I’d care!” There it was friend. Somehow that made it worse- another kick to the guts. “Yeah, ok.” I murmured, twisting around and pulling out my bag, closing the door and storming down the tar road. “Where are you going!?” She shouted. “Away, far away from you!” I bit back.

“Stop!” She growled frustrated and confused. I ignored her request and continued walking. “Y/n!… oh, for fuck's sake.” Her voice died in her throat as she came to the conclusion that I in fact didn’t care for what she had to say. Larissa threw down the scarf and started power walking towards me, her heals clacking hard against the ground, her stride quick and harsh. “Hey-… hey! Christ just stop.” She said exasperatedly reaching my shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I shrugged her off ripping out of her grasp. “Take the hint! Larissa, I’ve made it clear enough that I don’t want to be near you!” I yelled whipping around to face her. “What have I done? What is going on? You don’t do this- you don’t pull this kind of childish behavior; I expect this from a student not you of all people.” She reacted. “Thanks, truly.” I sarcastically remarked and resumed walking.

“Fine I’ll just follow you then.” She said as if she was one upping me. “Piss off.” I said starting to walk faster. “Tell me what is going on! Please.” She asked her voice a little calmer and more desperate. I once again ignored her. “Y/n. I’m not going to stop until you tell me what has gotten into you.” She said starting to slightly limp from the ache in her feet. “What has gotten into me?… what has gotten into me?” I stopped abruptly.

I spin on the spot facing her again throwing down my bag in the middle of the road. “You.” I said creeping towards her with my finger pointed towards her chest. “You have gotten into me!” I yelled. “Me?” She asked, her brows furrowing and voice shaking. “Yes you! Day in day out, I’m sick of it!” Larissa’s posture straitened and head slightly dropped to the side in question. “Can you elaborate?” She said her eyes flicking about showing her confusion.

“It would be my pleasure. Let’s start shall we. “I’m not sure where I’m going wrong, I just wish someone would want me.” Or “I’m not good enough.” Or “y/n, why doesn’t anyone fancy me? Is it because of this or that'…or some bullshit reason.” I started, quoting just a few things from her. “What? Are you annoyed now that I actually have someone who could potentially be interested In me?” She asked furiously.

“No, I’m annoyed because of how ridiculous it is.” I retorted. “Ridiculous?” She growled through clenched teeth. “Yes. Ridiculous. How many times was I there to say those things aren’t true? How many times have I reassured and helped you? How many nights did I spend being by your side trying to make you happy!?” I asked. “What are you getting at!?” She asked, her eyes wide and lips twisted. “Months… years actually! Listening to you talk absolute garbage about yourself and continuing to do so after me telling you I’m here! - and, and now… you’re settling? for some waitress who thinks you’re pretty?” I explained looking directly in her eyes.

Larissa recoiled and looked as if she had been slapped. “Tell me how you really feel.” She murmured crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus Christ, get a grip! Are you that thick!? I’ve been tryi-” I began. “Don’t even start, what about you! As far as I’m concerned you don’t have a great track record in relationships!” She yelled, her anger taking over once again. “Just fucking listen!” I screamed, rendering her completely silent.

When I realized she had bit her tongue and no longer wanted to argue, I started to speak again in a more relaxed tone. “I haven’t spoken, been with or even looked at anyone else. I’ve said nothing, but I’ve tried in many ways to show you, to tell you… every single time you have had a problem, a bad day, needed help, needed comfort, who’s been there? Me. I have. I know you better than anyone and I’m telling you that, that woman isn’t for you.” I stated.

“Right. So, your jealous that you're not the one who’s getting the chance with her, is that what you're saying? Because I thought you would be happy for me, out of all people y/n.” She said quickly and bitterly. “No that’s not-” I try. “I’ve heard enough, you want to be left alone fine, go ahead.” She said rolling her eyes and turning around to walk back to her car. “Larissa.” It’s her turn to ignore me. Before she got too far, I reached for her wrist without thinking and stopped her.

“I am.” I said quietly, pulling her to turn back toward me. “Your what?” She asked back. “Jealous.” I express timidly, looking away from her but keeping the firm grip. “But not of you… of her… I’m jealous of her.” I said just above a whisper. I look back up, my gaze trailing from her shins to the hem of her dress, to the waist belt of her grey coat, to her neck, lips and face, her very confused face.

“I’ve tried to tell you… I’ve tried everything apart from actually saying it.” I said loosening the grip on her wrist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was? How hard it is to listen to you talk about someone else making you happy? Someone else who can see the side of you I’ve only ever wished to be privileged to see?” Larissa’s face dropped; her angered expression melted away as I continued.

“What?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” I said in the same level of tone, goosebumps forming over my body as a shiver made its way down my spine, right there I knew I ruined everything. I close my eyes and let go of her wrist, I could hear her take a step, but it wasn’t back towards her car, it was to me, my eyes snap open as I feel her entire body engulf mine, in all the years of our friendship we’ve never hugged like that. Not once.

Together we stood planted in the middle of the road not daring to move an inch, it felt like it lasted a lifetime but in reality, it was only a few moments. My head and my heart were reeling, so many emotions, so many feelings, so many memories, so many 'what ifs'. “Larissa.” I said into her chest. “I know.” Was the reply. “Let me say it.” I murmured, Larissa’s chest heaved and contracted deeply, she guided one of her hands to rest on my temple and forehead moving the fallen hair in front of my eyes. “Look at me… please.” She asked pulling back just a little.

I lifted my gaze to her eyes and held the lapels of her coat, smoothing them and giving myself time to breathe. “I…” I swallowed. “I, love you.” I said quietly, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I have for so long.” I breathed, finally after God knows how long I finally said it, although my relief was short lived when I saw Larissa face slowly revert back to one of distain.

“This isn’t fair.” She said pulling away and taking a step back her brows furrowing and unable to look me in the eye. “What?” I asked in disbelief. “I-… I liked you for a long while y/n, but now you choose to tell me?” It took every inch of me to not cry immediately. "What are you saying?" I asked dumbfounded, feeling bile build up in my throat. Completely taken aback, I recoiled and was in such a state of disbelief that I turned around in utter shock, plucked my bag from the ground and resumed trekking down the road.

The whole world felt like water filled the atmosphere and I was drowning, my limbs felt heavy and the cold seeped into my bones, I heard her muffled voice call out to me, but it was far too late, the second I looked up a pair of headlights were set right towards me...