#it was at like. three notes. less than a week ago.

[great-flaming-bollocks]

[famouslysleepy]

my god i have GOT to make more black friends/mutuals if only so i can stop feeling weird about bringing up the race card when discussing a situation

like i can not be having just my mom and my sister be the only fuckers i talk to when I’m having suspicions that some underlying level of racism going on in s situation

[chuluoyi]

✎ unconcealable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

genre: teen!gojo, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashback and fast-forward to dad!gojo later

note: hello hello i’m alive~ i have this little thing of fluff/comfort pampering in my head throughout my vacation and it’s been a long time since i last wrote about teen!gojo so here it is :D will proofread later when i get the chance!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

“Satoru, move away—”

“Nuh, uh! I’m staying! You’re too soft~”

“Satoru, If Yaga-sensei walks in… he’ll think we’re doing something indecent!”

“Mmm, don't care~”

This is the gym. Anyone could walk in. And yet your boyfriend of three weeks, Gojo Satoru, claimed his place by resting his head on your lap and squeezing his eyes shut so comfortably… like a cat.

You sighed, vexed and almost giving up— and then you noticed just how good-looking he was. Not that you just realized it now, but his long eyelashes, his smooth skin, white hair...

You have snagged a heartthrob. Or at least he could be if it wasn't for his questionable tendencies.

“Satoru, I’m being serious,” you griped, blinking back your pounding heart and starting to get anxious if anyone would see the two of you on the floor, with him over you. “Get up. Now.”

He knitted his brows together. “So stingy... Can’t your dashing boyfriend get five more minutes?”

“No. Up. Now.” You learnt by experience that the more you indulged Satoru, the more you would be inclined to comply as well. So before he dragged you into that hole...

“Hmph! No!”

“I’ll really flip you if you don’t move—!”

And that’s finally when he cracked his eyes open, totally pouting. “So mean! My head is hurting, you know! I just want to rest a bit!”

You were somewhat taken aback by his little outburst but he really got up this time, and then he stalked away, mumbling complaints.

"Some girlfriend you are... so not considerate..." he pursed his lips together, seemingly hurt as he made his way out.

That almost annoyed you greatly, and you were about to retort back when to your shock, he suddenly clutched his head and staggered. "Ahh—"

"Satoru!"

You sprinted to him and caught him as he wobbled, supporting his weight.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" you were so spooked that you went down with him to the floor again. And you immediately pulled him to you when he heaved a shuddering breath.

"I'm okay—" he said in a pant, pressing his eyes together so tightly. "I'm okay, I'm okay! Don't—"

"You're not, you idiot!"

Something with his eyes. It just dawned to you that he didn't wear his sunglasses today, and by instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him close to your chest.

"Is it hurting badly now?" you worriedly asked, keeping him tight in your embrace. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Contrary to your worries, what Satoru was more focused on was the exponential warmth that enveloped him. He had a migraine for a while there, but you so easily anchored him, making it somehow hurt less.

"You said Yaga-sensei will catch us and think we're having sex," he sullenly accused to hide the sudden blush spreading quickly on his face. "You didn't care about me just a minute ago."

"That's... a minute ago!" you hissed. "Now I'm worried!"

Your response made him smile despite himself. Satoru found comfort in the darkness of being squished against your boobs... perhaps way more than he thought he would.

"Then let me stay like this for a while. I'll be okay in a jiffy, 'kay?"

"Hmm," you hummed, absent-mindedly stroking his soft hair. You started to feel bad for chasing him away earlier, and squeezed him. "Does your head hurt often?"

"Whoa, it's only when I'm like this that you'll touch me so openly," he responded with a mock sigh, and you fought the urge not to roll your eyes. "Poor me."

"Poor you indeed. So answer me, does it, or does it not?"

"Nah, it's just how it is sometimes. Just some side effects of my eyes, you see."

"Why don't you wear your glasses today?"

"...Nanami broke them after I ate his last doughnut."

"You..." you almost giggled, and yet so exasperated at the same time. But the way Satoru squeezed your waist to hug you in return made you spare him.

You two stayed like that for a while, and when the bell rang to indicate the start of the next period, you asked him again. "Are you okay now?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, much better."

"Then let's go back to your class. I'll help you go there."

"Ehh..." But Satoru, ever the stubborn one, just buried his face into you, holding on tight and not letting go at all. "No."

You frowned. "Why—"

"Don't wanna move~ your boobs are just too good..."

"—? What—"

"They're soooo soft. Seems jiggly too? Ah, my pain is healed! Oh! When we get married, will I get to bite them too—"

"Satoru, you!"

Long story short, you two missed the next period just because Satoru nagged you to stay with him... and at the end of it all, the ones who opened the doors to the gym were Nanami and Haibara, who immediately went to report to Yaga and red-faced respectively.

Back to present—

"Time for your teardrops!"

Satoru squeezed the bottle of eyedrops, lining it up with the striking blue eyes of his six-year-old son, an cute little pumpkin who was a carbon copy of him in every way, as he laid his head on his lap.

"Mmngh," his son squirmed as the water made contact with his sensitive eyes, and squeezed both eyes shut as soon as his papa was done.

Having inherited his eyes, the boy had started to feel pain whenever he accidentally overused them. Satoru knew the feeling well, and as much as he tried to humor him, something inside him prickled whenever he saw him getting teary-eyed due to the pain.

"Still stings?" he asked with a frown. "Want to use blindfold cover your eyes, hmm?"

Your son mumbled, "...no."

"What do you want then?"

"...I want mama."

Satoru snorted, pinching his boy's plump cheek fondly. "Same, kiddo. I want mama too."

The little boy cracked his eyes open out of spite. "You always bother her everyday."

"It's not as if you do not but whatever." Satoru pursed his lips as he stared at his boy. "If only I can put those rotting grandpas in elderly home, your mama can be freed from missions."

The kid snuggled close to his lap, seeking comfort, and suddenly, he felt flash of warmth burst inside him, realizing that his little munchkin wanted him to make him feel better.

"Look, I'm not mama, but I can do this too—" he hoisted his son, and hugged him close, hiding his little face into his sturdy chest. "Here you go. Better?"

The little baby that forever connects him to you. Satoru loved his son as much as he loved you.

He had no one to really comfort him in the early days of misusing his eyes— they only told him that it was the price for the greatness he would possess. Until you did. You didn’t speak of power or strength. Each time he suffered from those migraines back then, you would hold him close.

And so, he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his precious son. He wouldn't let him be told that—he would do his best to soothe him, to make him feel safe.

"Tomorrow we're getting kikufuku, yeah?" he said with a smile, patting his son’s back gently. "And ice cream too."

"Mmm... 'kay..." the boy replied. "Papa... sleepy..."

"Then sleep, kid. I'll wake you when mama comes back, yeah?"

You. The baby. The two of you were always the center of his world. As he too drifted off to sleep beside his son, he thought that chasing after you was most definitely the greatest decision he made from that blue spring that would never return in his life.

Epilogue

"I'm home!"

Your mission ended with a bang as you completely obliterated the cursed spirit. You went home with a spring in your steps, thinking that your silly husband and cute son would be waiting for you in this afternoon.

But no one greeted you back, and you found yourself walking to your master bedroom, only to be floored by the sight.

Satoru had dozed off so unguardedly, but he had one protective arm over your son, who was also sleeping. They looked like a pair of twins, and the way your son curled up to your husband melted your heart so much that it brought a wide smile on your face.

Click! Click! You took several photos so you would be able to look at their sleepy state whenever you wanted. But as you marveled at the photographs, suddenly a sneaky hand yanked you—

"Whoa—!"

"Shh, you'll wake him up, mama," Satoru sleepily grinned as he smooched your face. "You took so long, I missed you."

"I finished one day early," you huffed, but then your expression softened as you gazed at your sleeping son. "Seems like both of you are getting along well while I was gone~"

"I fed him mochi and cookies, of course he'll be obedient."

"—! I told you he'll get cavities soon if you don't limit the sweets intake!"

"Oh? Then we just have to have another baby who won't get cavities just as you wish then~"

"That's not how it works! Satoru, you—!"

[ms-demeanor]

I would like to address something that has come up several times since I relaunched my computer recommendation blog two weeks ago. Part of the reason that I started @okay-computer and that I continue to host my computer-buying-guide is that it is part of my job to buy computers every day.

I am extremely conversant with pricing trends and specification norms for computers, because literally I quoted seven different laptops with different specs at different price-points *today* and I will do more of the same on Monday.

Now, I am holding your face in my hands. I am breathing in sync with you. We are communicating. We are on the same page. Listen.

Computer manufacturers don't expect users to store things locally so it is no longer standard to get a terabyte of storage in a regular desktop or laptop. You're lucky if you can find one with a 512gb ssd that doesn't have an obnoxious markup because of it.

If you think that the norm is for computers to come with 1tb of storage as a matter of course, you are seeing things from a narrow perspective that is out of step with most of the hardware out there.

I went from a standard expectation of a 1tb hdd five years ago to expecting to get a computer with a 1tb hdd that we would pull and replace with a 1tb ssd to expecting to get a computer that came with a 256gb ssd that we would pull and replace with a 1tb ssd, to just having the 256gb ssd come standard and and only seeking out more storage if the customer specifically requested it because otherwise they don't want to pay for more storage.

Computer manufacturers consider any storage above 256gb to be a premium feature these days.

Look, here's a search for Lenovo Laptops with 16GB RAM (what I would consider the minimum in today's market) and a Win11 home license (not because I prefer that, but to exclude chromebooks and business machines). Here are the storage options that come up for those specs:

You will see that the majority of the options come with less than a terabyte of storage. You CAN get plenty of options with 1tb, but the point of Okay-Computer is to get computers with reasonable specs in an affordable price range. These days, that mostly means half a terabyte of storage (because I can't bring myself to *recommend* less than that but since most people carry stuff in their personal cloud these days, it's overkill for a lot of people)

All things being equal, 500gb more increases the price of this laptop by $150:

It brings this one up by $130:

This one costs $80 more to go from 256 to 512 and there isn't an option for 1TB.

For the last three decades storage has been getting cheaper and cheaper and cheaper, to the point that storage was basically a negligible cost when HDDs were still the standard. With the change to SSDs that cost increased significantly and, while it has come down, we have not reached the cheap, large storage as-a-standard on laptops stage; this is partially because storage is now SO cheap that people want to entice you into paying a few dollars a month to use huge amounts of THEIR storage instead of carrying everything you own in your laptop.

You will note that 1tb ssds cost you a lot less than the markup to pay for a 1tb ssd instead of a 500gb ssd

In fact it can be LESS EXPENSIVE to get a 1tb ssd than a 500gb ssd.

This is because computer manufacturers are, generally speaking, kind of shitty and do not care about you.

I stridently recommend getting as much storage as you can on your computer. If you can't get the storage you want up front, I recommend upgrading your storage.

But also: in the current market (December 2024), you should not expect to find desktops or laptops in the low-mid range pricing tier with more than 512gb of storage. Sometimes you'll get lucky, but you shouldn't be expecting it - if you need more storage and you need an inexpensive computer, you need to expect to upgrade that component yourself.

So, if you're looking at a computer I linked and saying "32GB of RAM and an i7 processor but only 500GB of storage? What kind of nonsense is that?" Then I would like to present you with one of the computers I had to quote today:

A three thousand dollar macbook with the most recent apple silicon (the m4 released like three weeks ago) and 48 FUCKING GIGABYTES OF RAM with a 512gb ssd.

You can't even upgrade that SSD! That's an apple that drive isn't going fucking anywhere! (don't buy apple, apple is shit)

The norms have shifted! It sucks, but you have to be aware of these kinds of things if you want to pay a decent price for a computer and know what you're getting into.

[thetriumphantpanda]

you'll just have to taste me | joel miller

Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.7K

Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.

You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.

It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.

But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.

“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.

He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.

“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”

You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.

“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.

“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”

He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.

“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”

“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”

“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”

“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.

“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”

He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.

You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.

“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.

“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.

“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”

“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”

He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.

“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.

He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.

You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.

Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.

“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.

“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.

“Terrible, really.” He responds.

“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”

[reidmania]

use somebody | spencer reid

part two

summary; spencer doesn’t believe someone like you could ever like someone like him, but he would do anything for a chance.

warnings; fem!reader, reader is described as being really really kind, bau!worker reader, fluff (slight angst bc spencer doubts himself) reader is a bundle of joy idk, spencer is absolutely disgustingly in love with reader. reader has a dog ( a golden retriever ) reader IS A BOOK LOVER, reader is shorter than spencer., no love confession but like there basically is. maybe a part two coming idk!

an; this is based off use somebody by kings of leon bc that song just AHHHH

‘I've been roamin' around, always lookin' down at all I see, painted faces fill the places I can't reach. You know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody, someone like you and all you know and how you speak, countless lovers under cover of the street, you know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody. Someone like you, off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep, wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat. I hope it's gonna make you notice, I hope it's gonna make you notice someone like me’

If there was a single light in a room, it would be your smile. Spencer had decided that the minute you introduced yourself to him on your first day, your wide smile was the first thing he noticed, then your kind voice — ever since Spencer Reid’s heart had your name written all over it and you had no idea.

You had been talking to Emily, your hands flinging around the more excited you got about whatever it was you were talking about, you were still smiling when Spencer approached with furrowed eyebrows after Emily had noticed him in the doorway and called him over to introduce himself to the team newest member.

You had introduced yourself with probably the widest, and sweetest grin he had ever seen. He almost forgot about the amount of germs spread through hand shaking when you offered him yours. He was pretty sure he felt the most embarrassment and disappointment when he didn’t forget — and turned down your handshake with his name and a silly ramble about what your name means historically.

He didn’t miss the way your smile never dampened — not even after his rejection of your offered hand, not during his embarrassingly long ramble, not as you listened intriguingly and then told him how cool it was that he just knew that off the top of his head.

That was a year, forty three days, 16 hours and 27 minutes ago — not that Spencer was counting. But he definitely was.

Your kindness won his heart from that moment. Your smile became his moral support during a particularly tough case. It seemed all the less tense when you would meet his eyes from across the room and offer him the sweetest smile. Your small gifts you left around for each member of the team became what he looked forward to and the end of every week — each more thoughtful than the last.

Spencer had kept the collection of small gifts you had given him on the shelf of his bedroom. Each one was specific to him. If someone on the team had mentioned wanting something or something they liked — at the end of the week it would be sitting on their desk with a little pink sticky note and a small ‘I hope you like it!’ in your hand writing.

He noticed that a lot of the time your gifts for him reference whatever he had rambled about the most that week, because he never explicitly told you he wanted anything or liked something because he knew you would go out of your way to get him it — you however found a way anyways.

Doctor who figurines, books, dvd’s. one week you had noticed him fidgeting more than normal and on the friday evening you had left a small collection of different fidget toys for him, with the same pink sticky note that wrote, ‘Picking at your skin is bad!! it can lead to infections and sometimes if you do it too much you could end up needing surgery. (I dont know if thats true, doctor google wasn’t helpful!) I hope these help’

He hadn’t picked at his skin since, if he was fidgeting it was with one of the small metal fidgets you had gifted him.

“Good morning!” You chirped — suddenly the room seemed brighter as you walked into the bullpen, your bag was slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards your desk. You turned your head to offer Spencer a sweet smile.

He returned it, lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers in a gentle waving. A habit he had picked up from you. You never just waved like everyone else did, instead you just held up your hand and wiggled your fingers. When you were asked about it you had smiled and shrugged and said it seemed like your fingers were dancing.

Spencer was pretty sure it was the sweetest reasoning for something he had even heard, but maybe that was just the fact it was coming from you.

“Did you like the dvd I gave you on Friday? The documentary one — if you have even watched it yet! I thought it was interesting!!” You said as you placed your bag on your desk. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest at the way your hair fell over your face when your head dropped down to look at your desk.

He shuffled slightly at his desk to sit up a little bit straighter. “I watched it.” He stated. Any dvd you gave him he watched the night he had got it. This one particularly — he had known all of the information that was in it, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it any less — because you liked it enough to recommend it to him.

“I thought it was interesting.” He nodded, you lifted your head and smiled and he started to wonder at what point that sweet smile would stop having an effect on him. He partly hoped it never would. “I watched another one yesterday. I think you’d like it.” He said, not mentioning the fact he had paid extra attention to all of it, making sure it included something you were interested in, just so he could recommend it to you then talk to you about it the next day.

You grinned, leaning against your desk as you looked at him. He was thankful your desk was so close to his. That you were so close to him. Close enough to have a conversation without having to talk across the room, close enough that he could lean over and help with whatever you needed if you asked.

“The documentaries you watch might be a little above my expertise. I think I’ll just be confused the entire time” You giggled out, tilting your head slightly to the side. He shook his head instantly, eyes following the hair that fell the way your head tilted, down your shoulder.

“You’re smart, you’d understand.” He said.

You smiled and raised your eyebrow slightly, “I’m not smart like you’re smart, Spence.” You shook your head, just as he had a few minutes ago.

He shrugged, “Not many people are” It came out cockier than he intended, he was about to apologise for how it sounded before he heard you let out a gutty laugh. A real laugh. “If- If you’d like.. We uh- We could watch it together and I could explain to you whatever you don’t understand” He added, then he realised he had basically just invited you to hang out with him. Just you and him, in an unprofessional setting. Now his mind was fuelled by the fear of rejection.

That fear dimmed when your smile widened. “Really? That would be great! I’d love that.” You had said.

Spencers mind went to almost a million different places in that moment. He thought about curling up with you on his couch, the documentary playing on his tv as you focused intently on whatever information was being said, he would admire you, he would ache to pull you closer and kiss your smiling lips.

Then he remembered how kind you were. The memory was both a blessing and a curse because then he remembered that your acceptance was probably an acceptance from your kind heart and want to spend time with your friend, opposed to wanting to spend time with him.

You smiled at him sweetly again before you were rushing off to greet JJ and tell her about something silly or maybe talk about whatever the two of you did on the weekend. He knew you often went out with the girls of the team on weekends.

Those nights he would lay in bed and wonder what you were doing, what you were wearing, how your hair was done, if you were laughing at a strangers jokes — you probably were. He knew that because you laughed at everyone’s jokes.

if all the joy in the world was wrapped up into a bundle and forced upon a person — that person was you. Spencer didn’t know if he had ever seen you not smiling and honestly his heart ached for the day he would have to.

“Hey Spence?” His head turned instantly towards the sound of your voice, he looked around to see you on your tiptoes trying to reach a file from a top shelf. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You didn’t need to say anything else before he was standing and walking over towards you.

He reached up, fingertips skimming along the files, “Which one do you need?” He asked gently, his eyes dipping away from the files to meet yours as you returned flat on your feet, a grateful smile on your lips, staring up at him.

“Um” You paused, eyebrows furrowing before a laugh left your lips, “The.. second one- I think” You paused before nodding.

He smiled “You think?” reaching up to pull out the second file nonetheless. He heard you sigh dramatically — he didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling still, probably pushing hair behind your ear.

“Yes, I think.” You stated. He pulled out the file, handing it to you. You took it gently, flicking through it for a moment, your eyes dancing along the words on the page before nodding.

You scrunched up your nose a little when you looked back up at him. “— I thought right! Thank you Spence. You’re amazing and great and awesome” You rambled, flooding him with praise. He felt his cheeks warm at your never ending compliments despite how often you gave them. You constantly reminded him how amazing you thought he was — when he was doing the most minimal things.

He wanted to take it as a sign that maybe you felt the same way he did but then you’d flood someone else with the same praise and that flame of hope would dwindle down just as fast as it came alight.

“You’re welcome” He settled on as his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, your cheeks were a warm shade of pink and he wondered if that had anything to do with him rather than the fact the room was just a little bit warmer than normal.

You grinned and turned away. He followed as you walked back towards the desks. He sat down at his desk, swivelling his chair to face your desk. “I was thinking — if you wanted, this weekend we could watch that documentary at mine, my dog gets a bit excited around new people but he could stay outside if it makes you more comfortable— Oh and theres a new take away shop near my house if you wanted to get dinner” You rambled about your plan’s absentmindedly as you looked over the case.

Spencer felt his heart pull for a number of reasons, one because he didn’t even know you had a dog. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else did and this was just a piece of information he had missed out on. Secondly, at the fact you were serious about watching the documentary with him. You actually wanted to.

He had partly assumed you had just agreed because you were kind and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and it would just be plans you two never really followed through with. He should’ve known better — because it was you.

“You don’t have plans with the girls?” He asked, eyebrows pinched together because he could clearly remember this morning hearing you and Emily talk about where you guys would go this weekend.

You let out a gentle laugh, shaking your head. “Im making plans with you actually. I go out with them every weekend, I’m sure they will survive without me for one.” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart felt like it was being clenched by someones tight hand.

He tried to hide the fact his cheeks had turned an ugly shade of pink, and that his eyes had blinked away from your captivating gaze for a moment. “That- Yeah- Yeah. That would, thats fine. Your dog is fine. We can get dinner.” He stammered out, because apparently your kindness took away his ability to think straight. Although he knew that already.

“Great!” You smiled. Suddenly Spencer hoped this week would go fast. He turned his gaze back to yours as a question weighed on his tongue, a wonder.

“What type of dog do you have?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity as he watched you reorganise your desk. How you were smiling while doing something so mundane had his stomach filling with an ache of longing.

You raised your eyes back to his, a gasp of excitement leaving your lips at the opportunity to talk about your dog. “A golden retriever!!” You said, before going into a ramble about your dog.

He grinned as he listened to every word. He couldn’t help but think, a golden retriever. That was so fitting.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting at the end of the week, was a book sitting on his desk. The book wasn’t the surprising part. It was the pink sticky note and what it had written on it that sparked his curiosity.

‘I read this last week and I know romance novels aren’t usually your style but I thought of you. Its annotated. The key is on the back. Have the greatest night <3’

You had already left for the night after dropping everyone’s weekly small gift off around their desks and waving goodbye. Spencer knew you left a little earlier than anyone else to get the bus. You knew how to drive, you had a car. When he had asked you why you got the bus everyday you had told him you just enjoyed people watching.

He constantly worried about what may happen with the dangers of public transport and with how kind you were — well you would be an easy target. How could he tell you that he worried about you when you gave him the sweetest reasoning in the world? How could he tell you he worried without pouring his heart out to you.

Spencer went home that night and in bed he read the book you had gifted him — you were right, romance novels weren’t necessarily his favourite but it didn’t stop him from reading it with just as much interest because it was you that recommended it.

His eyes danced along the key on the back for your annotation. Pink was things you found sweet, green was moments you found interesting, yellow was things that moments that made you sad. — that one made Spencer’s lips pull into a tug because how dare anything make someone so sweet so sad?

But what really caught his interest was the blue. ‘things i want you to know’ It made him wonder what things in this book could possibly be something you wanted him to know.

When reading, he came across many colours and lines highlighted, most in pink and green, a few in yellow, but there was only one part highlighted in blue, it was lines in a conversation in the middle of a particularly mushy love confession between the two characters of the book.

‘You smile a lot.’ was highlighted in blue,

and then, “When you’re around, its hard not to’

Spencer didn’t know what it meant — thats not true. He knew what it meant, he knew what you were saying but he didn’t know what it meant about how you felt about him. His mind swirled with the possibility that you might feel something for him.

How it was possible that someone like you, could ever feel anything for someone like him had his mind in a frenzy.

That didn’t matter when Spencer finished the book and added it to the collection of items you had gifted him, he kept the sticky note and placed it back on the book. He looked over the collection — each gift partnered with the sticky note you had written when gifting them.

Spencer Reid loved you, and if he played any part in making you smile — That was enough for him.

[alchemistc]

The voice echoes. He's coming in and out of it, desperate to open his eyes, desperate to make sure he can actually feel all his fingers and toes, but it's hard.

He knows that voice though. He knows he does.

The building hadn't been as stable as they thought it was. Probably in the investigation later on they'll discover building codes not up to standard, faulty evacuation plans. He got the kid out, though. He knows he got the kid out.

Eddie too, he's pretty sure.

".. uck!" The voice yells. It's kind of funny, he thinks to himself, as he can feel the strings of consciousness slipping, how much his name sounds like a curse when you're having a hard time keeping things straight. And then everything fades to black.

---

---

"Buck, please. Just wake up."

He wants to, is the thing. It's not like he's not trying, he wants to tell the voice, wants to be a little petulant about it too. That feels like the right attitude to have, for some reason.

It's hard to breathe. Might be something has him pinned. He'd seen beams falling, he's pretty sure.

"Goddamnit!" the voice yells, and Buck strains to remember. "I can't move this fucking thing unless you're able to get out from under it on your own, so wake the hell up. C'mon. Give me something to work with."

Buck wiggles a toe. Fucking ow.

Fingers, next, and that - that's a whole new ballgame of pain, but holy shit he can feel it all. Jesus Christ it hurts.

"For fucks sake, Evan, I'll take anything, at this point. Please."

Buck's lips suddenly feel a lot less numb. He does know that voice.

Hasn't heard it in three weeks, except for on the voicemail he'd left three months ago complaining about downtown parking for the hundredth time and letting Buck know he was gonna circle the block again, but -

"T- Tommy?"

Buck blinks his eyes open just in time to see Tommy drop to his knees near Buck's head, a relief filled sob echoing around the space. Buck takes the opportunity to stare.

"Hey," Tommy says, breathless, the corners of his eyes wet, his turnouts fully covered in dusty debris. It's an achingly familiar sight, even if he's significantly less sooty than the last time.

"You swear a lot more on the job," Buck notes, and Tommy bites out a desperate laugh, slipping a hand from a glove to reach for Buck's cheek.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks, and Buck crinkles his nose, widens his eyes. He laughs again, and Buck - God Buck has missed this but he's still having trouble taking in a full breath and - Tommy pulls a hand away from Buck's neck. "Your pulse is steady. Elevated, but you should be - can you wiggle fingers and toes?'

"Hurts like hell, but yeah."

"Well. A building just fell on you. So that tracks."

Buck takes stock of himself, even though he feels goddamn miserable taking his eyes away from Tommy.

Sure enough, there's a beam barred low across his chest. Definitely at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones. He can't see much over it, but it feels like he's got full, painful movement in his legs. "Tommy, I think my halligan's pinned with me."

He snorts. There's nothing funny about this, but Buck finds himself snorting back, the two of them bouncing off each other until Buck eventually winces at the pressure and Tommy gets himself under control. He's fully crying now, wet fat tears streaked through the dust on his face. "Thank fuck I am also a firefighter," Tommy says, and Buck prepares himself for the moment Tommy gets the tool under the beam at the right angle to lift. "How's your pain?" Tommy asks, when he's situated.

"On a scale from ladder pinning my ankle to lightning strike?"

Tommy scowls.

"I'll be able to move if you make room. If that's what you're asking."

Tommy eyes the space. The beam. The settling dust and the only real angle he's got with enough leverage to make space for Buck to slide himself free. He won't be able to help Buck pull himself out. "The moment you have an inch you move backward as fast as you can. There's at least two yards of clearance behind you, and I'm not dropping this thing on your fucking head by accident."

Buck nods.

Tommy grabs his chin. "Verbal confirmation, Evan," he demands, suddenly so serious Buck has to swallow back a bratty retort.

"One inch, pull myself backwards."

Tommy nods. Situates his hands. "Good." And then before Buck can brace for the pain he's lifting the beam.

It's fast. So fast Buck doesn't have time to scream, or listen to the signals from his brain telling him he's fucking dying. Tommy lifts, Buck scrambles, and he has just enough room to clear his legs before rubble shifts to their left and Tommy's dropping the halligan to roll his entire body over Buck's.

A few broken pieces of concrete roll to a stop before they reach the two of them, and Buck beams up at Tommy. "Little bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

Tommy settles his weight. Tips his chin so that he can see Buck beyond his visor. "I feel like maybe you aren't taking this as seriously as you should."

Buck shoves a shoulder against Tommy's weight, and he rolls right off, lays side to side with Buck while they both catch their breath. It's such a fucking familiar position that Buck fails to stifle a laugh.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, when he's calmed down enough that Tommy has stopped asking him concussion protocol questions.

Tommy sighs. Turns to his side, and Buck knows this position, too. They never did it in turnouts, though. "They grounded us an hour before the collapse."

"I heard," Buck presses. "I also heard the 217 was working fire suppression on the perimeter."

Tommy looks guilty. He rolls his neck, reaches out under the guise of checking Buck's pulse again.

Buck doesn't stop him.

"Yeah I might be fired," he says, and then shrugs a shoulder. "They called for full evac and when Eddie came out with that kid but you didn't -."

Buck feels a little breathless again. He almost asks Tommy how much he's got in his tank - Bucks's ran out a while ago. But they seem - pretty firmly trapped. Buck can't see an exit point, and he's almost positive there's not enough room for both of them to stand at the same time. They'll need that oxygen. "You came after me?"

Tommy sighs. Seems satisfied that Buck's heart is still doing what it's supposed to, and that he's not leaking internally. When he shifts his hand, it's not away - callused hands catch the underside of Buck's chin, fingers curl over his cheek. "I'd tell you not to read into it, but..."

Buck's breath catches. He holds it. There's - he has no idea how much air they have. They don't have time (or enough air, maybe) for Buck to lean up and kiss him. "Tommy."

"We'll talk about it when we're both safely out of here and bundled in our shiny blankets. If the 118 doesn't kill me first."

"What...?" Buck doesn't know what that means. They did everything they could to convince him not to reach out but they also weren't, like, calling for his head. He wants to know what it means. Tommy's brow goes up.

He shifts to his knees, holds out a hand. "Help me look around. See if we can find an air pocket."

He helps Buck to a kneel of his own like it's nothing, and despite the creaks and groans and the sting of sore muscles, Buck doesn't think there's anything permanently damaged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It'll keep, Evan."

More than anything, Buck wants to call him out on that. The implication that Tommy knows more about the 118's current feelings on Tommy than Buck does. His name, suddenly back in play like Tommy hadn't used the lack of it to dig the knife in.

Buck shifts his weight and checks for his flashlight. Aims up, first, as high as the beam of light will go. There's really not much room in this little pocket of space.

He can hear Tommy shifting on his knees behind him. They need to be smart. Conserve air, conserve energy. Buck had been near a sidewall when the building came down, but who knows how long it'll take for the building to be stable enough to attempt a rescue. Maybe they're still gonna die in here, after all.

God, he doesn't want Tommy to die.

"Back to Evan, I noticed," Buck comments, doing a terrible job of not sounding eager, and he can hear the heaving breath Tommy takes, the way the shift of his body just pauses.

"The thing is, the moment I realized I might not have any more time, all I wanted was another five minutes. Just to hear you breathe. See your face. You wouldn't even have to know I'd done it, just -." He sucks a breath in through his nose. "I just realized the pain is still worth it."

That spurs Buck into action, because - because they're not gonna die - not here, not now, not for as many years as Buck can squeeze out of this life. He shifts. He pokes. He checks for light beyond the pockets between rubble. He takes even, measured breaths around the rapidly tightening muscles around his ribs and the moment he feels a draft he almost cries.

"Tommy!"

He turns to catch his eye, thrilled, ready to drag him over and -

"Tommy?"

He's slumped on his side. And - and god damnit, Buck is so fucking stupid, he should have checked Tommy too, should have known if he was hurt he'd hide it like the massive asshole he is.

There's nothing obvious until Buck pulls at his turnouts, and then he has to hold in a scream so he doesn't bring the rest of the place down on them.

---

---

The paramedics don't fight him when he shoves his way into the ambulance behind them. No one does, not as he's shoving Hen and Chim away from him while they desperately try to check his vitals, not when Eddie takes one look at the rebar sticking through Tommy's side and his face goes fucking white.

He crashes twice on the way to the hospital.

---

---

Buck comes to slowly, and is immediately pissed, because he's in a fucking hospital bed.

Eddie leans over him when he sits up. "Take a second, man."

"Did you drug me?"

The eyebrow raise is a little condescending. "You passed the fuck out in the middle of the waiting room when they told us Tommy's surgery went well."

Well that's - that's - oh God, Tommy's okay. He remembers now. Tommy pulled through. Tommy was out of surgery and they were setting him up in a room and it'd be a while before he woke up but he was -

"I wanna see him."

Eddie chuckles, and Buck seriously considers throwing something at him, but before he can find something to toss Eddie's leaning sideways in his seat to pull the curtain divider away. "Even the nurses were taking bets that you'd kill a man if they put you in separate rooms."

He'll have to thank Gina later.

Tommy's still asleep. In repose, he breathes deep and even, eyes fluttering behind his lids, and Buck remembers what an active fucking sleeper he is, how much it had infuriated him that Tommy could never remember his dreams. God.

He's bruised around the eyes, there's a clean shave on the side of his head where he'd taken falling rubble in his mad dash past the kid Buck had sent ahead of him. The hospital gown looks so stupid on him.

Buck glares when Eddie tries to wrangle him back under his thin blanket - swings his legs over the side and tries not to wince when he puts his weight down and feels exactly how fucked up his ribs are. The bindings are tight. He's gonna need help rewrapping them.

"Tommy said something about you guys wanting to kill him. Know anything about that?"

It's a little accusatory. A lot, actually. Eddie sighs. "He tried to bring your shit by the station a week later when he knew you were off shift. Chim and Hen weren't, uh ... particularly nice about it."

Buck blinks. He still hasn't gotten any of that back.

"So he just ...took it back? Didn't leave it behind?"

"Oh he took about fifteen minutes of having his head bit off and then grabbed the box and shoved it back in his bed before he left."

Despite how absolutely ridiculous that all sounds, it makes something sizzle under his skin. If it was all just adrenaline, all just heat of the moment panic, Tommy would have left that box anyway.

They know so much and still so little about each other.

He's pretty sure he might actually get the chance to know more now. Even if he has to pry it from Tommy piece by piece for another decade or five.

Buck shoves that thought right down and gives himself the next two days to think about.

"And what'd you do, while they were berating him?"

"Oh, I threw like three loaves of bread in there with your stuff while he wasn't looking."

"You gave him my moping bread?"

"Two of the sourdoughs and an Irish soda bread."

"What if he didn't open the box back up?"

Eddie shrugs. "I hedged my bets. Either he opened that box back up to do his own moping or eventually there'd be some moldy ass bread in there."

"I hate raisins, by the way," comes the croaky voice to Buck's left, and Buck doesn't hesitate to wheel his saline bag the extra foot to reach the bedside. Buck knows that already. He'd made the soda bread out of spite, at three in the morning when he realized the second pillow still smelled like Tommy's shampoo and he'd remembered the almost-argument they'd had about wet hair on the pillows.

Tommy's hand meets Buck's halfway, and his smile is tired and magnificent.

Eddie smirks. "So you opened the box, then."

Tommy doesn't look away from Buck. His fingers squeeze. "I opened the box."

"Eddie, I need you to go distract Gina for like, three and a half minutes."

"...I know I'm going to regret asking," Eddie says.

"Tommy's hooked up to a bunch of monitors that are gonna make some extra noise in a second here, and they've already seen us making out in this hospital, they don't need to be alerted to another free show."

Eddie's out of his seat immediately, and halfway out the door when he turns back. "Just so we're all on the same page, this is not me encouraging this. You two are just walking talking piles of trauma and you can't just kiss about it and suddenly everything is fine."

Buck can taste the bitchy comment on the tip of Tommy's tongue. He squeezes Tommy's fingers and counts himself lucky when all Tommy does is make a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.

It's not like Eddie's wrong.

The door clicks shut behind him.

---

---

Tommy sets aside a third jello cup and stares at the cards in his hand. He glances through his lashes as he sets two cards down on the pile. "Two sevens."

"Bullshit."

His eyes gleam with challenge as he flips them both over and Buck has to take another loss. He doesn't care, is the thing. He'll happily lose at cards to Tommy for the next -

Six months is a reasonable length of time, probably. They've hit that mark once before.

Tommy shifts his weight, grimaces, and Buck is on his feet in a heartbeat. "You need another pillow? Change the angle of the bed?"

He laughs, soft and warm, rolls his eyes. "That joke I made about you guys needing your own ward? You may not have it named after you, but it's practically the Ritz around here. All the nurses have come by like six times just to see if I needed my pillow fluffed. I'm good, Evan." Buck settles back into his seat. "I just have a hole the size of a boba straw in my side."

"It was significantly wider than a boba straw."

"Could still suck a tapioca pearl through it," Tommy reminds him, almost petulantly. It's been a treat discovering that Tommy can throw it back almost as well as Buck when he's ornery about being bedridden for a full two days.

Buck finishes rearranging his cards. Grabs three random ones and sets them atop the pile. "Three eights."

Tommy stares at his cards. Glances up at Buck. Turns his gaze to his cards one more time.

"One nine," he declares, and Buck doesn't even complain that he'd fully let him off the hook there.

---

---

Tommy is actually the worst patient in the world. They have to have Eddie over to wrap Buck's ribs for at least a week, and Tommy refused to take any pain meds home with him, and every morning when Buck fusses with the dressings on Tommy's side Tommy stares in the mirror and complains that the scar isn't even symmetrical to the one on his ribs. Buck spends twenty minutes reminding him he'd have a punctured lung, if that was the case, and that seems to shut him up for a little while, at least.

"Hey," Tommy says, on day eleven, when Buck leans over him on the sofa to say goodbye and head back to the loft. Tommy's fine, really. He needs rest and leaving for the night isn't going to kill either one of them. Still, he tugs at Buck's belt loops until Buck allows a knee to bend and press into the cushion beside him. "This is not me asking you to move in with me."

"What -?"

Tommy presses something into his hand. It's warm, like Tommy's been smoothing it in his palm for a while, grooved along the edge facing Buck's fingers. "Yet," he says, softer than before, watching Buck palm it with a smile that Buck is beginning to fully understand the implications of.

It's a key.

Buck blinks. The years stretch ahead of him. Grumpy grizzled Tommy bitching about the towel rack having too many wet towels on it. Silver fox Tommy grinning over some flirty kids head at Buck as he tries to make it back to the booth they got to the bar early to camp at. Tommy, tomorrow, fondly annoyed when Buck confesses he can't watch another true crime documentary or it'll actually kill him.

"I love you," Buck blurts, and feels like crying when Tommy tugs him close for a kiss.

[pomegranatesarchive]

little norris — f1 grid (teaser)

pairing. f1 grid x norris!reader

summary: everyone loves when landon's little sister attends races, especially the racers.

…

“What do you mean little norris is here?” Carlos Sainz spluttered, looking around the group of men, seeing the same bewildered expression on their faces.

It was two hours before the race, Charles, George, Oscar, Max, Carlos, Daniel, and Lando were catching up inside of Mclaren’s hospitality, that was until Lando dropped the bomb, his sister, more well known as little norris, was there.

“Yeah, I’m going to go meet her at the gate,” Lando muttered, turning around to the couch and picking up his phone before pocketing it. “You could join me-” he turned back around, only to find that the space, which was previously occupied by his friends, was now completely empty. Looking around, with furrowed brows, he scoffed, “Assholes.”

Walking up to the gate, Lando smiled at the sight of his baby sister, he was well aware of the cameras on them. And while he was very well used to it, you still seemed slightly uncomfortable. It had been a while since you had come to a race, three moths or so. So being around this many cameras, was not your usual day-to-day.

Still, you smiled brightly walking up to your big brother. Greeting each other, you hugged tightly, although you hadn’t been at a race for more than a year, you had Lando had seen each other less than a week ago. Only a year apart, you two had always been close, basically being best friends since your birth.

“Can you explain why your friends are very persistent about me visiting them today?” you questioned, now in the great comfort of Mclaren’s hospitality, you sipped on your orange juice, raising a brow to your brother.

Confused, Lando questioned who and what you were talking about. You explained that for the past ten minutes or so, you had been bombarded by messages from some of his closest friends. All begging you to visit them.

“Those Muppets!” Lando scoffed loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. “The second I brought you up, they ran away to do god knows what!” he rambled.

You shrugged, pausing for a second before pulling yourself up with a groan. Lando watching your movements in confusion. “Where are you going?”

You avoided eye contact, pursing your lips, and slowly walking towards the exit. “You’re going to see them!” Lando pointed an accusing finger at you, standing up and staring at you with betrayal.

You sped up, looking over your shoulder with a frown, “I’ve missed them!”

note: lmk if you would like to be tagged in this!

[heeliopheelia]

GET HIM BACK! (s. jake)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: making out, skin marking, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, brief hair pulling, choking, slight bulge kink, degrading, praising too, slight exhibitionism, facial, cursing

word count: 3.3k

synopsis: 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰

note: i really hated the build up to the one i posted before so i rewrote it as promised... sorry for the confusion guys ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

“Your parents home?” Jake breaths out the words right into your mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

It’s been mere three minutes since you first heard his loud and obnoxious bike speeding down your quiet street. He’s careless and tact-less as always, and for some reason that’s what draws you in even more. 

He never keeps you waiting long. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s always one foot out the door of wherever he is, always waiting for a single call or text from you. He knows what he wants and is always vocal about it, a go getter type of a man. 

So it was expected to have him climb up the low roof of your porch and hear his gloved hand knocking on your window not even ten minutes after you texted him a not so innocent wanna come over?. 

As if that was even a question. Of course he wants to come over, wants to see you any chance he can get. He doesn’t need to think for a second to grab his helmet and ride to wherever you are, so needy for him. He’s known you for less than two months – met you at a party and kept hooking up weeks after, and yet here he is, wrapped around your finger, with nothing else in his mind but you.

You’re not much better yourself, dreaming of his beaming face every night that you somehow don’t end up spending with him. You’ve grown attached to him, so attached that the tearing inside your chest becomes more hurtful whenever you’re not with him, day by day he takes a firmer grasp of your feeble heart.

Your hands are grasping onto his worn out t-shirt, kissing him greedily and breathlessly as he giggles into your mouth, pulling you closer and closer into his chest. 

“They came back an hour ago,” you answer, raising on your toes to make the angle more comfortable for the both of you. 

Slowly, he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to the other one. “That’s kinda inconvenient, no?” He asks, nosing at your cheek and you close your eyes and nod your head, melting as the leather of his glove brushes against your skin as he lifts your chin up with his fingers.  

His warm lips are on yours again, hand pulling your face upward to leave you breathless in a matter of seconds. “Wanna go out with me?” He whispers in your lips. He hums when you shake your head. “No? Jay’s party’s still going. We could go, hm?” He kisses you again even when you shake your head no. “Wanna just stay here?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out quietly, eyes never meeting his. 

“Okay, as you wish, baby,” Jake smiles into your lips. “I don’t mind. Anywhere with you is good.”

Before you get the chance to swoon over his words even more, he’s pushing you backwards and against your dresser, putting his helmet down on it before caging you in between his flexing arms. He kisses you dizzy then, angling his face to the side to press and suck on your lips better.

It’s so Jake-like to make you forget about all of your surroundings, to kiss you into oblivion until your lips are swollen and burning. You never complain – why would you when you know you can only have him for this summer, before college starts again and you’ll be out of your hometown for another year. You always take him in, again and again, because you’re scared you’ll wake up from this dream too soon and never see him again. And you can’t let that happen. 

This time he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, the warm muscle working against yours. Your hands finally relax from where they’ve been clutching onto his black top so desperately, only to travel up into his hair. You tug on it gently, feeling the slightly sweaty strands underneath your fingertips. 

Jake pulls you flush to him, pushes his hips into yours for any type of fraction and groans lowly in his throat when he gets what he’s been craving for for the past hour. 

“Couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see me, baby?” He teases, but you’re nodding your head quickly before he even has the chance to finish the sentence. He smiles into your lips as your desperate fingers pull his shirt up and off of him, leaving you pressed to his toned chest. 

The two of you messily make your way to your bed, bare of any duvets and blankets as it’s too hot to sleep under any. You fall on top of him and part your lips only to latch onto his neck, tongue lapping over the bite marks you leave afterwards.  

Jake chuckles at your feverish suckling onto his skin, never objecting to being marked by you. He tugs on the leather gloves with his teeth, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor, fingers immediately going down to follow your lead and dispose of your top. You’re only wearing underwear underneath the big t-shirt you sleep in and the sight makes Jake’s mouth water. He runs his hands over every inch of your burning skin, impatiently unclasping your bra as you’re still busy with his bruised neck. 

You pull away, visibly pleased with yourself, then lift yourself on your arms and smother his swollen lips again. Jake grunts, kissing you almost just as fervently, hands going lower and lower until he grabs a handful of your ass and rolls his hips up into yours. 

You let out a whimper at that, an even louder one following when his slim fingers skim over the soaked cotton of your panties. 

“You need to be quiet, doll,” he chuckles breathlessly, drowning the sounds you make with his lips when he slips his fingers underneath the fabric and gets a feel of your slick pussy. “I don’t think we would want your parents walking in on us like that, hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stumble out, shifting as you’re laying flat on his chest, face buried in his collarbone and eyes fluttering when his moves only grow bolder. You shudder slightly, feeling his long digits teasing your clit with butterfly touches. 

“Ease up, pretty girl,” Jake coos, other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you steady when the first of his now soaked fingers slips inside your tight hole. You nuzzle into him further, breath becoming unsteady as you whine quietly. He moves his hand, burying it deeper and skimming it over your walls. 

Couple seconds later he adds in the second finger, the heel of his palm pressing to your clit and making you jolt slightly in his firm hold. He strokes inside you slowly, feeling you progressively getting wetter with his every push. You’re panting, hot breath hitting his skin and making his dick twitch in his pants. 

He’s plunging his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squeezing him and stretching out his lips with a satisfied smile. You can’t help but buck into the air in the little space that Jake gives you, when he picks up on his pace. His fingers thrust in and out of you, one by one, never losing their rhythm. 

Curving his fingers, his knuckles brush against the spongy insides of your hole, making you moan shakily. 

“You good?” He asks, the hand on your waist caressing you gently. 

You sigh, hands reaching up to squeeze his shoulders. “Yeah,” you whisper because that’s all of your voice that you can muster. 

“Yeah?” He can’t help but tease and you can hear the grin that’s plastered on his pink lips. But this time you only respond with a nod of your head. 

With your face buried in his skin, hands wrapped around his neck tightly, you know you’re cumming when the warm wave hits your stomach breathlessly. You’re whimpering in his collarbone, really trying your hardest to keep quiet, but with the twitching pleasure spreading through your body, and his hard bulge pressing into your stomach, it’s quite difficult to stay sane. 

Jake gives you a second to breathe before removing his dripping fingers and unbuckling his pants with it. He somehow manages to shake out of his jeans while keeping you steady on his chest and you shiver when you can feel his warm cock resting between your bodies now. 

“Stay still for me, baby,” he coaxes you before shifting you on his hips. 

Next second, you can feel his tip prodding at your sensitive pussy and he glides his cock between your glistening folds, coating it in your slick. He readies you with a squeeze at your waist, and slowly starts sinking his length inside of you.

“Wait, Jake-,” you choke on your words when he buries himself entirely inside of you, stretching you out and making you lose your composure completely. “I’m still s-sensitive,” you mumble out, about to nuzzle your face in his neck when his hands grip your waist. 

“Now, up you go,” he says and lifts you up, making you sit on his hips and take in even more of his cock. 

You moan rather loudly, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from spilling any more sounds. Jake slowly rolls his hips up into you, quiet grunts leaving his own mouth as his hands settle on your hips. He starts guiding you up and down carefully until you’ve fully adjusted to him.

He only lets go once you’ve picked up on a steady pace, bracing your hands on his stomach, the feeling of his hardened muscles making your cheeks heat up. The way your pussy spreads around him is making him go crazy, and now and then he realizes that the combination of feeling you topping him and looking so fucking pretty at the same time, is nothing less than lethal. 

You’re so soft under his hands, soft around his cock, soft hands pressing on his abs – everything about you is so damn soft. You’re making him feel almost too good. To ground himself, one of his hands goes up to your hair and tugs on it slightly, making you arch your back and show your pretty, glistening with sweat neck. 

He grits his teeth when you speed up slightly, eyes misty and sparkling down at him in your dimly lit bedroom. You’re riding him so well, taking his heavy cock with little struggle.

“So good,” he pants out, fingers digging into your ass. “You’re doing so good.”

You can feel your muscles straining whenever you lift yourself up, tired legs making you drop down onto him a little more forcefully than you initially planned but you’re rewarded with his low moan and eyes shutting tightly, long lashes brushing over his cheeks. 

The room feels almost too hot, the house is too quiet for the lewd noises coming out of both of you. Your rhythmic bouncing on his aching cock soon changes to messy grinds as your knees give out and thighs burn. Your movements are shallow and visibly weakened, so to help you up, Jake brings his knees higher and roots his heels into your mattress only to thrust up into you, meeting your hips halfway.

You mewl, your legs twitching when he makes your hole take even more of him. He can feel your slick mixed with his precum seeping out and covering his stomach, and he desperately needs more. 

Swallowed by the haze, you push your hips backwards and try to meet his thrusts, making his moves stutter and a strangled groan bubbles up his throat.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he says through clenched teeth before grabbing you by your hips and pulling you off of him. Before you get the chance to ask what he is doing, you find yourself with your back slammed to the mattress, and Jake’s hands grabbing your calves and throwing them over his shoulders. 

When he enters you again, you feel your eyes rolling back a little but before any sound can make its way out of your throat, Jake’s veiny hand slaps over your mouth as he leans his face closely to yours. Your whimpers are muffled now as he picks up on his previous pace and the now changed position makes your walls clump down on him even fucking tighter. 

“Keep it down. We don’t want your mom barging in and seeing her daughter folded in half like a slut, do we?” His words only make you moan louder as your fingers dig into his toned shoulders. At your reaction, Jake’s lips spread with a sly smile as he raises his eyebrow. “Do we?” He asks breathlessly, watching as your eyes glisten in the dark room. “You really wanna get caught? To let somebody see you like that? Naughty, fucking, girl. Well, there you go.”

His hands leave your mouth and settle on your stomach instead. You just can’t predict his moves anymore, too absorbed in the pleasure spreading through your body, so when he pushes onto your stomach and presses you even deeper into the mattress, a loud moan ripples out of your lips. Jake groans too as he can feel himself moving so deep inside you underneath his fingertips. He pushes onto you even harder. Your head rolls backwards until you’re nearly facing the headboard.

It’s quite difficult to breathe and you’re not sure whether it’s from the stifling summer air that’s gotten into your room or the veiny hand that’s suddenly latched onto your throat. His hot cockhead seems to be hitting everywhere where you need it most. Nothing but dumb squeaks leave your parted lips and he thrives off of every single one of them, even deepening his thrusts to hear them grow louder.

His thighs clash into yours loudly and you yelp when he leans even more forward and the one hand that’s currently not on your throat clutches the headboard tightly. You can’t even do anything when the wood starts rattling against your wall. 

“You like getting fucked like this? Who would’ve thought,” he hums, grinning down at you with the teasing glimmer in his eyes. 

His thrusts are deep, making the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over again. The moans you sob out are like a shot of adrenaline in his veins, better than any drug he’s ever tried and suddenly the thought of having you to himself only for the next week crosses his mind. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to breathe without you now that he’s almost sure he’s addicted to you. 

He works his length deep inside you. Your vision threatens to turn black and you’re already out of breath when he presses onto your throat a little harder. You send him a half-lidded look and he moves his hand away from your throat to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead because nothing can fucking take the sight of your fucked out face away from him. 

Your lips are parted with the ragged breaths leaving them, hands fisting his hair and legs beginning to tremble against his chest.

“So pretty, all for me. All because of me.” You nod thoughtlessly at his words, mind taken over by the feeling of the soon to be approaching high. “So lewd too. Where did your shame go?” 

“C- Close,” is all you’re able to say. You can feel every vein on his cock more prominently with every next thrust of his, all of your senses besides touch evaporating. You can’t even hear any more of his dirty words when your climax hits you like a truck, making you let out a loud moan. 

Jake wraps one of his arms under your waist and lifts you up slightly, now folding you in half and making your orgasm hit twice as hard. He slows his hips down for a moment to help you ride it out, thrusting his dick with deep strokes. 

He’s letting go of you soon enough, quickly forgetting about your sensitive self as he feels the twitching and aching between his legs begin, waiting for his own release. With a groan, Jake braces both of his flexing arms on the headboard and ruts his heavy cock into you feverishly, making you see stars and cry out of overstimulation. 

You have to bite on his shoulder to stop the sudden scream from leaving your throat, your whole body ricocheting with his hard thrusts. Your thighs are drenched and so are his, so the skin slapping against skin sounds even louder than before, leaving the backs of your plush upper legs red and stinging. 

He loves having you like that, limp because he’s fucked you just that good but body no less responsive to all that he keeps giving you. 

“So fucking good,” he repeats himself before abruptly pulling out of your spasming pussy. “Get down here, baby.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you only nod and eagerly pull yourself down on the bed with your wobbly legs. Once you’re lowered enough, Jake angles his swollen cock right above your face and strokes himself quickly, only to couple seconds later cover your face with the thick white ropes of his release. You flinch slightly, closing your eyes as the warm liquid hits your cheeks, lewdly licking everything that’s sputtered over your lips. 

“Oh, fuck!” Jake groans, a little pitchier than before, nonetheless just as pretty. You lift your head up from the mattress and swiftly engulf his leaking tip with your lips, milking him until he’s dry. Jake shudders above you and moans, watching you through almost closed eyes as you suck on his softening cock. 

You pull away when there’s nothing else to take from him and the doe eyed look you’re giving him makes him weak in the knees. He drops down next to you, brushing your hair away from your cum stained face before giggling and picking up the shirt you’ve thrown on the floor. He gently cleans you up with it, then leans forward to drown you with his lips. 

You could kiss him for eternity, be buried with his soft lips on yours. He’s gentler now, pressing his mouth on yours and leaving peck after peck on them.  

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers suddenly, hazy, nose brushing against yours and making you smile the softest smile at him. “There’s never gonna be anyone else like you, YN.”

And with your heart in your throat, you can only swallow harshly and speak through your clenched throat. “Love you too, Jake.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you just stay in the moment. Heavy breaths, gentle touches brushing against each other’s bodies and soft voices making promises you most likely won’t be able to keep.

“You won’t forget about me, right?” You whisper quietly, looking up at him with misty eyes as he glazes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

He shakes his head immediately, flashing you this charming smile of his you’ve gotten so used to over the past two months. 

“How could I?” He’s just as quiet. Then he gently takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest, allowing you to feel the hammering of his heart. “All of this is yours. I’ll wait for you.”

And that’s all you need to hear right now. 

The two of you get dressed, giggling and smiling like fools as there’s nothing much left to say. Your hip is leaning on your dresser when he steps closer and kisses you again, sucking on your lips sensually and slowly, procrastinating as long as he can only to not part with you yet.

His gloves are back on his hands, helmet under his arm as he turns back to you and tries one more time, grabbing your smaller hand in his. “Go out with me now?” 

You don’t know how you’ll be able to face your parents tomorrow. 

You don’t wanna say goodbye to him tonight. 

So with a smile on your lips, you nod your head and climb out of the window – hands intertwined together and his helmet safely tucked on your head.

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

taglist: @luvkpop @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

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[gothhabiba]

[ID: A full image and two close-ups of a tatreez piece in various shades of orange and blue. It features three different panels with star of Bethlehem, cypress tree, and clove motifs. End ID]

Tatreez raffle to support the Alwan family

You guys have already helped me raise over $500 for the Alwans in the last couple of days, and Mohammed and his wife Samar are very grateful. The situation is thus:

The apartment that the family moved into less than a week ago was shelled and destroyed overnight. They need funds immediately so that they can move somewhere safe for their children.

All of their children are sick with gastroenteritis and in need of continued medical attention.

The prices of the basic necessities of life are very high in Gaza, and it's difficult to support a family. Infrastructure is destroyed and job opportunities are obviously pretty nearly non-existent.

Here's how you can get your hands on this gorgeous, original piece of cross-stitching (I mean, not this one, but an identical one that I'm working on right now):

Give at least $10 USD to the Alwan family via venmo (@ gothhabiba), paypal (paypal.me/Najia), or cashapp ($NajiaK), with note "🍓" or "strawberry," to purchase a ticket for this raffle. Send me a DM with a screenshot of your donation and I'll enter your username. $10 = 1 ticket, $20 = 2 tickets and so on.

Give at least $75 by any of these methods, and I will make you a piece just like this one! Or anything else of a similar size and complexity. I would be happy to design something for you.

If you already donated to this family over the past two days and want to be entered into the raffle, just shoot me a message.

[faebaex]

Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅱ

author note: part 2 part 2!! You guys seemed to really love this and that makes me so happy! I’ll admit, I really, really enjoyed writing part 2, and that’s probably why it turned out longer than the first part x-x less cameos this time, but lots of Jade and this time its Azul being the only voice of reason. Hope you enjoy!!

characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader

“Ne… Do you think Y/N likes me?”

The VIP room was quiet apart from the scratching of Azul’s pen and the soft clinking of teacups as Jade prepared a pot of black tea. Floyd laid back on one of the plush VIP room couches, his legs hanging over the arm as he dangled his earring in front of his face, gazing at it as it swayed gently. Azul’s pen didn’t stop, continuing to scrawl across the documents in front of him, whilst a ghost of a smile played on Jade’s lips as he brewed the tea leaves to perfection.

“You two had a fight not even a week ago, why would you think she likes you?” Azul queried, a small frown marring his features, but he did not take his eyes off the documents he was labouring over. Floyd’s hand closed around his earring, and he rolled over, his chin resting against the couch arm as he looked over at Azul, a pout beginning to form on his lips.

“But she bit me.” Floyd pointed out and Azul raised an eyebrow, finally looking up from his documents. “But she isn’t a merfolk, Floyd. She wouldn’t have any idea what that might mean.” Azul countered, sighing at the ridiculousness of this conversation. Floyd’s face fell, his lips turning downward slightly at the corner at Azul’s words. Jade noticed this, elegantly making his way over to Azul’s desk and setting a teacup down with a flourish. “But she still bit him. Such actions carry connotations, bold ones at that. Of course Floyd would feel a certain… Way.” Jade stated, folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Azul’s desk. Azul’s pen dropped onto the desk with a clatter, and he looked up at Jade incredulously, “are you serious?!”

“And she so kindly repaired Floyd’s earring, without us having to persuade her to do so or claim fair compensation. She looked so pleased with herself too. And I need not remind you just how important gifting jewellery is to merfolk?” Jade smiled serenely, ever happy to be stirring the pot whilst Azul shot him a dirty look.

Floyd’s legs kicked restlessly behind him, his face blank for a few moments before a wide grin spread across his face, sharp teeth glinting as he jumped up off of the couch, a short wild laugh leaving his lips before he dashed out of the VIP room with a spring in his step. Azul sighed as the VIP room door slammed shut, convinced that he was going to have to replace it one of these days due to Floyd’s recklessness, and Jade let out a muffled chuckle that he hid behind his hand.

“Why did you do that?” Azul huffed, picking up his pen and getting back to work, the sound of pen on paper once again filling the room.

“Whatever do you mean?” Jade responded innocently, his composed smile never budging despite the sly glint in his eyes.

“If it ends in tears, I don’t want to hear a peep about it. And this better not disturb business at the Lounge, otherwise you will be the one picking up the overtime.” Azul warned, and Jade’s smile lifted, his teeth starting to peek through.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Life had mostly gone back to normal after your fight with Floyd.

You were finally free of what seemed like the never-ending punishment from Crewel. As expected, Floyd was nowhere to be seen during your three-day stint in the botanical garden, tending to the regrowth of the ingredients that had gotten caught in the crossfire of your and Floyd’s dispute. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, with you mostly watering the plants, your biggest obstacle having to move housewarden Kingscholar from his napping spot so you could water the plants there (nothing a discreet threat with the watering hose couldn’t fix).

You had also finally submitted your potionology assignment, your partner generously distilling another vial of ginger root so that you could brew the energy boosting potion and not suffer any more of Crewel’s wrath for submitting a late assignment. Considering how insistent that your lab partner was about replacing the ginger root, you can only imagine it was a result of him seeing you taking on Floyd Leech without even batting an eyelid.

Either way, things had all sorted themselves out and your day-to-day school life fell back into place like normal. Well, apart from one difference. Floyd Leech.

He was bothering you. Every day. Without. Fail.

At first, he began randomly attacking you. But there was none of the vicious aggression that usually accompanied a fight, it was more like… Excitable and rough play fighting. And he bites too, incessantly, your arms and hands often littered in his very distinct teeth marks. He’d pop out of nowhere and some days, it was just about all you could do to fend him off, being how you were trying to lay low in order to keep your head, lest housewarden Riddle finally get sick of you and cut you down to size. Floyd seemed to delight in when he managed to make you jump, or when you smacked him with your textbooks in an attempt to ward him away. To make things more odd, after you’d got into a small altercation with another student, Floyd had sought you out that same afternoon. You don’t even know how he had even heard about the incident, having not been a physical one which was diffused rather quickly. With a surprisingly pouty expression, he’d gripped you by the shoulders, not budging an inch even as you tried your best to detach him.

“Ne, don’t go bitin’ other guys, okay?”  

Floyd’s random offensives lasted every day for about a week before he began to change tact.

Soon, you’d notice things going missing. Not anything important, but enough to be small, irritating inconveniences. For example, you’d reach into your stationery case for a pencil to find it missing, only to find it tucked behind Floyd’s ear casually as he strolled down the corridor. On one particularly troublesome occasion, Floyd brazenly slipped his hand into your pocket and took your phone, pouting on discovery that it was locked via face ID and yet still managing to somehow line up your phone screen perfectly to get it to unlock. He cackled as he held it out of reach, not reacting no matter how much you stomped on his shoes and tugged at his arms. You were one step away from climbing him like the bean pole he resembles when he finally gave it back, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You didn’t find out until later when a message from a “Moryay!” popped up with the most ridiculous meme and string of emojis did you realise that Floyd had added his number to your phone and made you follow him on all his social media accounts.

After that, you changed your phone lock to passcode only.

But perhaps the most bizarre moment that came out of Floyd’s sudden obsession with you was the nickname he had dubbed you.

“P-pea?!” You spluttered, looking at Floyd with a mix of shock and disbelief.

Floyd gave you his typical toothy grin, leaning forward with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, pea puffer,” Floyd drawled, looking absolutely delighted with himself, “Y’know, pea puffers are real tiny. They look all cute and unassuming, but they are real aggressive and fight other fish all the time, just like you.” You gaped at this comparison, and that only seemed to please him more, remarking how you really looked like a fish now.

“I’d rather you went back to calling me guppy. Please.” You complained, a hand resting on your hip as you looked upon Floyd, unimpressed.

“No way, pea puffer. You’re much more special than the rest of these lil guppies.”

It had been weeks, but Floyd was still seeking you out non-stop. Your friends, whilst sympathetic, had begun to avoid you by proxy, trying not to get caught in the crossfire. You were at a loss about why he was so obsessed with you lately, or about what you could do to get him off your back.

“Well, that’s just Floyd Leech,” your friend responded with a shrug as you vented to her on your walk between classes, “if someone interests him, he’ll be all over them. But as soon as he finds them boring, he drops them as quick as he picked them up. That’s just how he is. Although I’ve never seen him bite people like that before.” Your friend commented, eyes briefly glancing down at your bare wrist. You grumbled and quickly rolled down your blazer sleeves, concealing the unique pinprick bite marks. Your friend shrugged again, as if that was the be all and end all of the situation. “What? So I’m just supposed to wait until he finds someone else on campus interesting enough for him to bother?” You huffed in exasperation, and your friend shot you a sympathetic side eye. “Well, I think the best thing you can do if lay low for a little while. Well…” A small smile curved your friends lips up, “as low as you can manage, I guess.” You shot her a half-hearted glare and she laughed, “the point is, if Floyd doesn’t see you for a while, maybe he’ll move on and start terrorising someone else.” The two of you entered the history of magic classroom and took your seats, and there was nothing like an incredibly slow, boring history class to ponder what your friend said and what you should do next, and if it was even possible for you to lay low enough to avoid Floyd for that long.

Having carefully formulated your plan under professor Trein’s nose, you sprung Operation Avoid The Leech into action. In the mornings, you would hurry to your classes, keeping your head down and under the cover of the bustling student body. At lunch, you’d rush to the cafeteria, pick up whatever sandwich was closest you could grab and then you’d dash out of there, eating your lunch in a discreet spot. After afternoon classes, you went straight back to your dorm with no detours, holing yourself up in your room. You managed to tell your club president a convincing enough excuse as to why you would not be attending club activities for the foreseeable future, internally thanking your scrappy reputation for making whatever punishment your club president thought you had gotten yourself into now so much more believable.

Your new routine had some unexpected benefits, with housewarden Riddle often praising your new behaviour, believing that you had turned over a new leaf and you were starting out on your journey to become one of Heartslabyul’s model students. But there was a very specific downside to your new no frills routine.

You were so, so bored.

The irony wasn’t lost on you that whilst you were waiting for Floyd to get bored of you, you were the one who was hopelessly bored, moping around in your room most of the time. There was only so far studying could take you, and looking through your social media only made you feel worse, seeing all of your friend’s stories and posts of how they were spending their precious freedom just making you feel more miserable. You huffed a huge sigh as you threw yourself down on your bed, hugging one of your pillows as you stared aimlessly at the ceiling. Hopefully, just a few more weeks to go…

Floyd huffed a sigh, slumped across the Mostro Lounge bar, head in his arms as he stared aimlessly gleaming, polished surface of the counter. Jade stood behind the bar, diligently polished glasses as he stared at his twin with a knowing smile. Service at the Mostro Lounge had ended an hour ago, with Azul holing himself up in the VIP room to pour over the day’s sales figures, giving Floyd the perfect opportunity to mope.

“Is something the matter, Floyd? You’re rather sullen today.” Jade commented, knowing full well what the problem was but decided to prod his brother regardless, curious as to what reaction it would elicit. Floyd remained silent, his finger tracing mindless shapes against the countertop. The lounge was silent apart from the occasional clink as Jade set back a perfectly polished glass and began work on the next. Finally, Floyd spoke up.

“Pea puffer is avoiding me…” Floyd mumbled, not raising his eyes up from the counter. Jade’s head tilted slightly in interest, yet he still didn’t stop polishing the glass in his hand. “Pea puffer?” Jade questioned, his curiosity even further piqued, “You mean the small, combative— Ahh.” An amused smile lifted up Jade’s lips at this new piece of information. So Floyd had upgraded you from the sea of guppies to a personal nickname, quite the honour.

“What makes you believe Y/N is avoiding you?” Jade asked, placing the glass he was polishing on the counter and folding his hands neatly on the counter, focusing his full attention on Floyd now. Slowly, Floyd sat up from the counter, resting his chin on his fist as he continued to sulk. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. She’s never in the cafeteria at lunch, I even went to her club but she wasn’t there either. The club prez said she told him she couldn’t attend for a while…”

“I see...” Jade hummed as he mulled this information over, “have you been to the Heartslabyul dorm to check on her?” Floyd’s pout turned into a frown, his mood starting to turn. “Goldfishie banned me from stepping foot in Heartslabyul after the last time.” Jade’s lips turned upwards as he remembered the last time, but he soon turned his mind back to the problem at hand. “I see. This is quite the mystery.”

Floyd didn’t respond, instead staring dejectedly at the glass in front of him. “… I thought she liked me,” Floyd finally broke the silence, “she was the one who started courting me… She bit me, and she fixed my earring!” Frustration began to seep into Floyd’s voice, his eyes narrowing on the glass, “y’know, she was even opening her mouth a lot recently, real wide. Sure, she sometimes covered it with her hand, but…” Floyd’s voice trailed off and he fell back into gazing dejectedly at the glass, until a slender hand reached out and plucked it from the table, back to being polished in Jade’s careful hands.

“Hmm… Perhaps it is time that you let Y/N know that you are courting her back?” Jade mused, and Floyd huffed, his hand falling down onto the counter with a dull thud. “I have! I bit her back! I leave ‘em all up her arms, so she knows how into her I am. And I take her stuff and wear it, so all the other guppies know, y’know?” Floyd reasoned, and Jade nodded slowly, the glass clinking as he slides it back into its place, beautifully gleaming. “I know, but I fear Azul may have been right. Perhaps she does not know.” Jade countered, and Floyd looked up at his twin then, waiting for him to continue. “It seems that land dwellers have more… Fragile courting customs than us merfolk do. It may help to be more direct.” Jade concluded, carefully watching his twin to gauge his reaction to this idea. Floyd stared blankly at Jade, and Jade knew his twin enough to know a dark cloud was starting to form over Floyd’s mood again. On cue, Floyd slumped against the counter again, a whine of annoyance slipping past his lips. “Human customs are annoying,” Floyd continued to whine, burying his face into his arm, “how am I supposed to tell her if she keeps avoiding me?”

Jade looked down at his brother, finding himself a little amused by his uncharacteristically lovesick behaviour. In all the years they had been together, he had never seen Floyd act this way over someone before. How curious. “It’s quite simple, Floyd. You simply need to lure her out.” A cunning smile spread across Jade’s lips, and Floyd perked up slightly, once again turning his attention back to his brother. “I have a plan…” Jade affirmed, leaning forwards and beginning to conspire with his dispirited twin…

It had been two weeks since you had begun Operation Avoid The Leech and to put it bluntly, it was the most boring two weeks of your life. But things were finally starting to look up. Your friends had begun to report to you that Floyd seemed to have calmed down a lot this past week, no longer constantly peppering them with questions about your whereabouts or attempting to hunt you down during breaks or after class. And yesterday, to add the final cherry on top, you received news that a random Scarabia student had caught Floyd’s interest, and he had apparently been chasing them around instead. You were still feeling a little cautious, wondering if you should leave it a few more days before deciding it was safe enough to venture out again. You were on the fence about what to do, but then a friend sent you a message, asking if you wanted to go to a trendy new café that had opened in town. With her assurance that she hadn’t seen Floyd at all that day, and it was very doubtful that you’d run into him in town. Persuaded that everything was fine, and you were finally off the hook, you eagerly agreed to meet her by the clocktower after class.

Classes flew by, and before you knew it you were waiting at the clocktower for your friend to arrive. Your mood was sky high and it was a beautiful day, you couldn’t think of a better day to go into town and celebrate your new freedom. You leaned against one of the pillars, scrolling aimlessly through your social media as you waited for your friend to show. You found yourself getting distracted, doom scrolling through videos on Magicam, and when you finally noticed the time, it was ten minutes after your friend was supposed to meet you. You frowned down at your phone, seeing no messages to say that she was running late. You looked up from your phone, confusion etched on your face as you looked around the courtyard that enclosed the clocktower, wondering if she had somehow missed you. In fact, you were about to message her to check that everything was alright, when you saw a flash of teal walking down the path towards main street. You felt a surge of dread when the figure turned to lock eyes with you and offer his signature insincere smile.

Jade Leech.

Suddenly it all clicked into place.

“Oh fuck.” You muttered to yourself, and you swear you could see Jade’s sharp teeth poking out from under his lips. At that moment, your phone pinged in your hand and a message from your friend popped up, and your feeling of dread only intensified as you read the pop-up notification.

‘I’m so sorry’ was what your friend had sent to you, but you hardly had a chance to dwell on it when you heard the familiar laugh that sent a chill down your spine. Without a second thought, you bolted.

You could hear Floyd Leech’s maniacal laughter behind you as ran around the clocktower, ducking for cover as you internally spat every curse word you knew, trying to figure out what your next move would be. Floyd’s laughter died down into silence, but you weren’t stupid enough to believe that he’d left, pressing yourself against the clocktower and peeking around the corner. The coast seemed to be clear, but now you had to weigh up whether you could outrun Floyd. The outlook was looking dismal. A small body of water cut off one side, but you wondered if you could maybe duck through the trees near Sam’s shop and make a run for the hall of mirrors. The hall of mirrors wasn’t that far from the clocktower, but that all relied on Floyd not chasing after you. You peaked around the corner again, still not seeing Floyd, and you were about to make a break for it when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow loom over you. Before you could react, Floyd slammed his hand down just above your head, surprising you enough for you to let out a yelp of surprise as he boxed you in against the clocktower with a wide toothed smile and an excited glow in his eyes.

“Found you.”

Floyd leaned his arm against the clocktower, leaning over you as he continued to grin down at you, looking incredibly proud of himself. You looked up at him in disbelief, not much room for you to move with your back pressed against the clocktower and Floyd looming in front of you, effectively crowding you in between his arms. It was rare that you found yourself speechless, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out exactly what you could do in this situation, if at all anything. So instead of overthinking it, you did what you do best.

You attacked.

“Floyd Leech! What did you do to my friend?!” You hissed at him, puncturing every word with a swing of your bag into his stomach. Floyd grunted as the first swing hit him, but then he laughed, letting you hit him a couple of times before he grabbed your bag mid swing, stopping your assault. “I didn’t do anything to your little friend, pea puffer.” Floyd drawled, looking amused when you shot him an indignant look back at him.

“Then why isn’t she here? Are you bullying my friends?” You retorted, trying to tug your bag out of his grip so you could whack him again, but his hand didn’t even budge, like his grip was made of iron. Annoying. Instead, he decided to yank your bag himself, catching you by surprise and making you tumble into his chest. “I ain’t bullyin’ your friends, little pea puffer,” Floyd whispered into your ear, “ain’t it obvious? Your friend sold you out.”

You let out a disgruntled sound as you pushed Floyd, taking a step back and glaring at him. Floyd retained your bag, looping it over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Ya see, your friend owed Azul a favour, an’ me and Jade decided we could help her out… If she helped us out.” His tongue poked out of his mouth as he grinned down at you, “you’re too trustin’, pea puffer, it’s cute.” You folded your arms over your chest, glaring at him. You were about to open your mouth to retaliate, but before you could, Floyd suddenly lunged forward and lifted you into his arms, marching off with you without a word, if you didn’t count his trademark giggle.

“Floyd! Put me down!” You shouted, pushing at his shoulders, your legs flailing in protest. Floyd didn’t respond as he walked around the clocktower, and you twisted, trying to get out of his grip. “Stop squirming, pea puffer. You’ll make me drop you.” Floyd complained, even if his grip around your waist didn’t budge an inch as he held you. “Alley-oop!” Floyd cried joyfully as he launched his long leg out, kicking open the door leading into the clocktower with a deafening slam. “Floyd! The clocktower is off limits, are you trying to get us another detention?” You snapped, your eyes wide with alarm. “Relax, pea puffer. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Floyd drawled casually, and you huffed. “Easy for you to say, you didn’t even turn up to our last detention!”

Floyd turned his head and grinned at you, and you had to lean back, not realising how close together your faces were. “Then I’ll come to the next one. Now hold on tight!” Floyd grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief, and you barely had a chance to process his words and why you’d need to hold on before he started dashing up the clocktower stairs. You were unable to fight the undignified squeak that ripped past your lips as you clung onto Floyd like your life depended on it, his laughter echoing off of the high walls of the clocktower as he bounded up the stairs. You thought it would never end, but finally a room opened up and Floyd ducked into it, finally setting you back on your feet. “Ta-da~!” Floyd announced, swinging his arms out. The room was small, small enough that Floyd couldn’t even stand at his full height, lest he bump his head on the low ceiling. The true centrepiece of the room was the curved window that looked out onto main street, and you could see all the way to the sports field. A ledge sat below the window, and Floyd took no time to make himself comfortable on it, waving you over.

“Isn’t it cool, pea puffer? I like to come here sometimes, when I just wanna chill without anyone harshin’ my vibe.” Floyd grinned, setting your bag on the ledge and to your surprise, he opened it up and started rifling through it. “Hey!” You scolded, rushing over to stop him as he began to rifle up through your stationery case. “Ne, don’t you have anything fun I can have?” Floyd asked as he pulled one of your pens out, not seeming at all phased when you slapped at his hands, trying to get him out of your things. “If you want something fun, get your own!” You huffed, pulling your stationery case and bag out of his hand and shoving it behind you, out of his reach. You tried to reach for the pen, but he held it out of your reach, his previous sunny expression falling into a pout. “That’s not the point, pea puffer. It has to be something of yours.” Floyd complained and you raised an eyebrow at him, completely lost as to his reasoning behind this.

Floyd’s expression went blank as he stared at you, and if felt like the two of you were locked in a staring contest for hours before he finally decided to speak again. “Ne, you just don’t get it, do you pea puffer?” Floyd asked, his eyebrows drawing down slightly as he continued to stare at you. You suddenly felt like you were under a microscope, shifting uncomfortably on the ledge. “What’s there to get?” You remarked, although you had the odd feeling that you should tread carefully, considering how uncharacteristically serious his face looked, “aren’t you just messing with me because you’re bored?”

Floyd pulled a face at your words. “Jade was right. You really don’t know.” Floyd huffed, before leaning forward and grabbing hold of your wrist, rolling your blazer sleeve up to your elbow with unexpected gentleness, revealing your bare arm. The bite marks Floyd had made had mostly faded by now, and he pulled another face, unhappy with this but pushing on with the conversation anyway. “You bit me, so I bit you.” Floyd stated, looking at your face and seeming to study it for your reaction. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t baffled. “Yeah… So?” You responded, and Floyd’s brow downturned just a little bit more at that.

“And you fixed my earring.”

“Yes…?”

You could see Floyd’s teeth clench together, an annoyed breath huffing out of his nose as he dropped your wrist, raising that hand to grip at his shoulder. He stared at you, brow furrowed and you were truly at a loss for what you had done wrong. You could only stare back at him, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to divulge what exactly you didn’t get.

“Those are all merfolk mating customs.” Floyd finally said flatly, and you felt yourself freeze.

“… Excuse me?” You managed to squeak out, not even feeling embarrassed about how your voice sounded as you stared at Floyd in disbelief. Floyd continued to study your expression; his lips pressed together in a firm line.

“Listen up, pea puffer. You bit me in the potions lab, and that made me think you liked me. Merfolk bite each other when they’re interested, y’know? And when I was mullin’ it over, you came runnin’ after me, holdin’ out my earring that you’d fixed with that pretty smile on your face. You were very persistent in letting me know you were interested.” Floyd explained, looking at you pointedly.

“Wait, wait, wait!” You spluttered, “what does giving your earring back prove? And I bit you when we were fighting!” Floyd just shook his head, letting his hand drop into his lap. “Giving jewellery is like, the top merfolk courting custom,” Floyd said with a shrug, “fixin’ someone’s broken jewellery is just as close. It doesn’t matter how it happened. Plus, merfolk fight all the time. Especially when they like each other, its just natural.”

You stared open mouthed at Floyd as you processed his words. Floyd thought you had a crush on him, because you bit him and fixed his earring?! You were stunned silent, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly at the implication. If Floyd noticed, he didn’t mention it, continuing with his explanation.

“So that’s why I started bitin’ you back. It shows that I like you back and it lets all those guppies know it too,” Floyd’s gaze fell back to your arm again, and now it really made sense why he had pulled a face earlier when he saw his bite marks all but gone, “it’s also why I started borrowin’ your things and keepin’ them on me, so that all the guppies would see that I’m unavailable.” Floyd finished, looking at you expectantly. You simply stared back at him, rendered speechless by Floyd Leech for the umpteenth time that day. Floyd began to frown again at your bewildered expression, and he leaned towards you as he spoke next.

“D’ya get it, pea puffer? I like you.”

Floyd’s rather straightforward, unabashed confession is what snapped you out of daze, and you felt your cheeks grow hot, a red hue painting them. You’d look at home with the roses in the Heartslabyul gardens. You fumbled for some words, your lips moving but nothing coming out as you found yourself awkwardly flustered. A smile started to curve up Floyd’s lips as he saw just how flustered you were becoming, and he leaned closer still, his nose almost close enough to touch yours.

“Ne, pea puffer, d’ya like me back?”

If your cheeks could have grown any redder, they would have. At this point, someone might as well have dug a hole in the Heartslabyul gardens and planted you there, your face putting the roses to shame. “Y-you haven’t even taken me on a date!” You stuttered out, cringing at your own weak defence, only for Floyd to lean back and gesture at the room you were both in.

“Whad’dya mean? We’re on a date right now.” Floyd shot back nonchalantly, and you almost choked on your own tongue.

“This was entrapment! Some would even dare to call it kidnapping!” You retorted, finally starting to shake the daze that his explanation and confession had put you in, “usually, when you like someone, you ask them out on a date.”

Floyd’s grin became toothy, and that’s when you knew you’d really put your foot in it. “D’ya want me to ask you on a date, pea puffer?” There was a shine in his eyes, and he seemed excited about the idea, but also sincere. You felt your cheeks heat up again and you looked away, suddenly finding the spelldrive players on the sports field very interesting. “T-that’s not what I said.”

Regardless of your complete obliviousness to merfolk mating customs and what you had apparently started, Floyd seemed very satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. He scooted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours as he leaned in very close, his lips hovering above yours for a painfully long moment before he decided to detour and press a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead, his wild toothy grin as he pulled away a complete contradiction to this gentle gesture. “Buckle up, pea puffer, ‘cause now I’m courting you. Aha~!”

Just what had you gotten yourself into?!

Taglist:

@musclefanatica @lanxianschoenheit @red-viewe @d1gital-data @susvale @pzlqpibz @saturnsapothecary @the-unhinged-raccoon @mochiclouds @nooneknows8976 @01paige01 @honeyhivess

[supernovafics]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends. 

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.” 

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.  

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.” 

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you. 

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did. 

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on. 

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore. 

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely. 

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.  

She looked up at you. “Want some help?” 

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.” 

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm. 

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath. 

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August. 

But, shit, you were already in way too deep. 

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.” 

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore. 

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side. 

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway. 

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.  

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.  

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?” 

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment. 

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.” 

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.” 

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. 

“It’s not easy for me either.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.” 

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.” 

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago. 

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night. 

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire. 

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again. 

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time. 

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.” 

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[eightstarr]

what's mine — ellie williams.

summary: the day you left for this assignment, ellie remembers thinking it would be okay— or maybe it was you who said it, your hands over her tense shoulders, her fingers tugging at your shirt, “you’ll be okay.” she goes home and knows it to be true, like words from a god. she’ll be okay and you’ll be back. what’s left to do but count the hours?

warnings: descriptions of violence (not very detailed), suggestive content near the end!

notes: uhhh i love being dramatic and i think it shows here. all i think about is the action of coming home to someone who loves you and how it is as meaningful now as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be in a hundred years but whatever haha sorry about that guys. if you read this i love you btw

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

Being without Ellie is disorienting. The first week feels like walking alone in a dark room, feeling the walls for a light switch, running into sharp corners that stab your sides. You miss her like it's a sickness, less a longing and more a threat to whatever you’re made of.

There's a small community way outside of Jackson offering a trade. Maria makes it sound simple, like everything else. “They know us, it’ll be quick. You pick up the supplies, drop off our part of the deal, and come back.”

It takes 26 days. The exchange is simple but the journey less so, you and three others have to carry home the much needed medical supplies through herds of infected and a heavy storm that slows you down and cuts off your communication for three terrifying nights.

Ellie wanders the house and feels like a stranger, sickly, a sleepless corpse searching for living blood. The light coming through the windows feels too bright and her skin abnormally cold. She knows, or thinks, that if she’s not careful she could get lost in it— merge every wall together until there’s nothing left to see but a stark flatness, an unfamiliar box. The space is not huge. It's not a tall castle or a manor in the countryside or anything fitting to the theatricality of loneliness, but it’s your home. So much of you is in it. Ellie finds herself focusing on a different thing each passing day, clinging to them with a nauseating desperation, a hundred random pieces of you scattered like breadcrumbs to keep her sane. A book with a folded corner somewhere along the first half of the story, your favorite mug next to the sink, an old pair of jeans ripped at the knee on your side of the drawer. Too many things for you not to come back.

“Do you think I'm losing my mind?” she asks, a soft wrinkle between her furrowed brows, her eyes focused on a random spot ahead. “I mean, it’s been two weeks,” she’s trying to sound like it's not as bad as it looks, like she finds any of it funny or interesting instead of plainly horrifying. The sole of her shoes hits the floor in an anxious rhythm, mocking her— tap, tap, tap, tap. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

Dina curses at the lighter until it flickers back to life with a weak orange flame, holding it near the end of the half finished blunt. She inhales and passes it over, breathing out, “You’re not crazy.”

A pause. Ellie lets the comment comfort her for a single second before it flies right through her head, sounding more quiet than usual when she admits, “...I have this feeling like someone took something from me.”

Dina raises her eyebrows, her chuckle cut off by a short cough, smoke itching her throat. “You mean, like… what’s her name?” she squints her eyes and tries to remember. 

The name worms around Ellie’s head like it has been for days, bold letters, clear as day. She makes no attempt to let it pass through her lips, self aware and unrelenting at the same time, maybe finding some indefensible satisfaction in the fact that it can be forgotten. Cruel, you'd tease, and Ellie would smirk a lot like she tries not to now.

Dina gives up a second later, “Whatever— the girl that volunteered to go with them before you could. You're blaming her?”

“I guess.”

“Hm. That’s a little…”

“Don’t say crazy—”

“Crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

Ellie scoffs, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. Dina argues unlike anyone else. She’s confident, her goal clear and her strategy already lined up before you get a word in, loaded like a gun. But her strongest contender, perhaps the only one, might be Ellie’s simple stubbornness. “I’m concerned. She got picked over me even though I've studied that route a hundred fucking times. I could've done a better job,” she says, steady and tireless like bulletproof glass.

“At getting the supplies or at taking care of your girlfriend?”

“You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

Dina pauses for a short moment before she shrugs. “Maria makes good points.”

Ellie takes one last hit of the blunt and flicks it across the room to die out somewhere on the permanently damp floor. She tries to believe it. No one took you, she thinks, you left dutifully like anyone else in Jackson would've, like Ellie would've. It’s a dangerous trip but a job like any other, the same risk of deadly infection that comes with any of them. She should be used to it by now. Does it not also exist every other day of the year?

Still, she can't remember the last time she didn't see your face for this long. You’ve been dating for a little over three years, living together for half of that— it's a terrifyingly meaningful chunk of your young lives, months and months of seeing you everyday, of falling asleep with her face on the crook of your neck and waking up with your fingers pressing into her waist. You've built a world where things like this don’t happen, where all Ellie can think about as she leaves home is the way you hum in the mornings, soft and sleepy and so fucking cute, when you wake up to her back against your chest and her hair on your face. She thinks about her own laugh, how shy it sounds, how your lips press to her head before she turns around to claim a proper kiss.

But now you’re not here, and she’s too terrified to even utter the words out loud, and there's a hole in her chest where you should be that makes her feel insane everywhere she goes. It's an open wound leaving a hazardous trail of shame and memories, humming in her ears like a boiling kettle, who took what's mine?

Ellie has never considered herself to be the jealous type, but she never was the type to sleep with her back turned to someone this comfortably, either. It’s different with you. It's theatricality, it’s the coldness of that bed at night, it’s your legs tangled with hers like growing roots now disjointed. It’s a thing, breathing and alive, screaming at nothing— I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Is that girl you went with hanging from your every word in that way she always does? Is that a shameful thought to have? Ellie wipes it clean in a second and finds it immediately there again, at the front of her mind like a message on a cloudy mirror. She can't think about anything else. Is the storm keeping the two of you awake? Does a part of you find the girl brave for volunteering? Is she turning to look at you and asking, just loud enough, are you asleep? That fall earlier was rough, how are you feeling? Is she looking at your wounds like they matter more than doing a good job? Is your blood, warm and red and yours, on her hands now?

The last of the smoke spills past her lips in a sigh. Ellie pulls her knees closer to her chest and tugs at the loose thread on your ripped jeans.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

There’s a comfortable weight that keeps you under, the loving press of her arm resting over your chest, her thumb brushing your chin. The sun feels warm where it’s draped across Ellie’s back, white tank top wrinkled slightly up her waist.

She watches you until you let out a little sigh, squint one eye open and then slowly the next, a smile stretching your lips as soon as your sight focuses on her. She looks beautiful. She looks just like she did before you left, your girl.

It’s weird— you’ve showered, scrubbed your hands clean and raw, changed clothes. And still you feel like you’ve brought in something dirty, like it’ll be stuck on you for a while, the grime, the guns, the storm. Your muddy shoes must still be sitting by the front door. Something in your head screams that you should get rid of them, burn them like an evidence of guilt. Do you look anything like you did before you left? You feel like a worn version of yourself, sticky and darkened. It’s a ridiculous worry to have, but the thought comes hand in hand with embarrassment and you can feel it crawling up your neck. You cover your face with your hands and groan tiredly, shy.

Ellie laughs, warm like musk, salve on a wound.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mutter, voice ridden with exhaustion and joy all at once. The thing, love, obsession, both— breathes along with you. "Freak."

"Yeah, I was,” she shifts to sit on your lap, one knee on either side of you, spilling her confession easily. Ellie leans over to push your hands away from your face and press her lips to yours, passionate but short lived, still softly brushing against each other when she says, "I missed this face."

You chuckle, eyes tracing over her freckled cheeks, hands squeezing her thighs, feeling strangely like you’re being washed clean. “I missed you.”

Ellie closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours, her fingers caressing your cheeks, looking at you again when her thumb brushes against the ridge of a scar. It’s a warped line that almost follows the shape of your cheekbone, from your hairline to somewhere near the corner of your lips. She'd seen it last night, nauseous with worry and relief to have you back, her vision clouded. The morning reveals it in a different, heartbreaking light. It’s okay, you’d said during the night, your hands on either side of her face much like hers are on you now, didn't even need stitches. Ellie tries to let that sink in, make the guilt feel any better. But it can't. Maybe you’d been saved the prick of a needle, but she knows it still hurt, she knows it bled and stung. It feels like a betrayal. If I can't save you the pain, she thinks, I owe you the witnessing, the chance to clean its wry edges, pat it dry. "How'd you get this one?" she asks, as softly as she can.

You’d been prepared for the question but not the devastation in her eyes. It falls over you like a ton of bricks, her love making your chest ache and sinking you back into the memory.

There was an empty house, or what looked like one. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the rotting wood of an old, wobbly table. A man's hand placed forcefully on your head. The side of your face rammed into the table with a thud when he pushed you down, the faint pain of something slicing into your cheek made worse by your struggle to get free. A kick and he stumbled back. A slice of your knife and he fell dead. You don't think the fact will do much to comfort Ellie. So, in hopes of sparing her, you hum and shake your head. "Come here," you say, or beg, a hand on the back of her neck like fond guidance. "Let me kiss your pretty face."

She feels soft like satin on your lips, tastes like honey and black tea. Ellie kisses like she argues, experienced and unruly all at once, with a point to make— I need you and I want you to know it. Her tongue slips past your parted lips and brings a muffled sound from your throat that almost makes her pull slightly away, if it weren't for the feeling of your fingers tightening on her neck to have her closer. A faint thought crosses Ellie’s mind, a feeling like pity for the person she was before you, whoever that was, an old self who couldn't know what it's like to be devoured so caringly.

She brushes her nose against yours and you let out a sigh that sounds painfully like a prayer, her short hair a dark veil over your eyes when she turns her head to press kisses on your cheek. "You can't leave me like that again," she breathes out.

You swallow her words, a confused wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Ellie—”

A kiss cuts you off. You slide your hands up her thighs to her waist, a surprised hum vibrating against her lips when she wraps her fingers around your wrists and squeezes, as if to keep them there. She leans back and stares into you, and for the first time since you’ve known Ellie, you can't tell if she's commanding you or begging. “I won’t let you.”

It’s a gesture. It goes beyond the reality of your lives, the fact that any day either one of you could be made to leave again, that any day either one of you could die. It means I missed you. It means I need it to be me who looks after you. It means I love you.

Your stomach flutters, hungry with an urgent craving. And like you have every day since you’ve known Ellie, you find yourself unable to deny her love or the indulging promise of a different world— but maybe those mean the same thing. "I'm not leaving you," you say, breathless, and it might as well be true.

Ellie makes a sound in response that feels painfully close to a moan, a soft mmhm that clouds your head of anything that may or may not exist outside of this room. The tip of her nose brushes against your neck and then continues its way down, her fingers sneaking inside your shirt, pulling up the fabric and pressing kisses over the skin that’s revealed. "I love you," she says, almost near the band of your underwear, her blushed lips parted. You feel her breath against the burning fire in your lower stomach, reaching out to cradle her cheek against your hand. She feels hot, flushed pink under her freckles, and you’re not sure if she hears you say I love you, Ellie as much as she watches you mouth the words. She presses her face further into your hand, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, begging as if she’d ever have to, “Baby, I need— please.”

You don't hear yourself say yes, but the look in her eyes says you must have.

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

general masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[p0orbaby]

Blurb idea - reader being really busy with work & leah feeling a bit neglected. Reader feeling terrible when she finds out & spoiling leah

-

You’re typing furiously, barely looking at the screen, your mind racing ahead to the next three deadlines. The dining table is no longer for dining; it’s a graveyard of coffee mugs, half-eaten biscuits, and Post-it notes that say things like “URGENT!!” and “Revisit before Friday.”

Leah walks past, deliberately slow, like she’s waiting for you to notice her. She’s wearing your favourite hoodie and a pout that could rival a Labrador that’s just been denied a treat.

You don’t notice.

“Busy, are we?” she says, voice laced with enough passive-aggression to fuel a reality show reunion.

“Mhm,” you hum, barely registering her presence. “Just a few more things to finish up”

Leah doesn’t respond. She stands there for a moment longer, then sighs dramatically before retreating to the sofa.

It’s only later, when you shut your laptop and stretch, that you notice the tension in the air. Leah is curled up, scrolling on her phone with the energy of someone purposefully ignoring you.

You approach cautiously. “Hey. Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Fine”

That’s a lie, and you know it. The fine that means absolutely not fine but I’ll let you figure it out.

“Leah,” you say, sitting down next to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says again, but the pointed way she keeps her eyes on her phone gives her away.

“Liar”

She sighs again, setting her phone down with exaggerated care. “You’ve been glued to your laptop for two weeks. I feel like I’m married to an Excel spreadsheet”

Your heart sinks. “Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise…”

“It’s fine,” she says, but it’s not. “I get it, you’re busy. You’ve got work. It’s important”

“No, it’s not just that. I should’ve made more time for you”

She shrugs, clearly milking this moment of guilt for all it’s worth.

And that’s when you know you need to fix it. Properly.

The next day, Leah wakes up to breakfast in bed. Not just any breakfast—her favourite. Pancakes, syrup, fruit arranged in a smiley face that looks like you tried too hard. There’s coffee too, in her favourite mug that you normally avoid using because it’s “aesthetic” and not dishwasher-safe.

“What’s all this?” she asks, sitting up and eyeing the tray with suspicion.

“An apology,” you say, setting the tray down carefully. “And a promise. No work today. Just you and me”

Her face softens immediately. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. “I’ve cleared my schedule. And booked us a massage. And we’re going to that tapas place you love for dinner”

She grins, looking far too smug for someone who was dramatically sulking less than 24 hours ago. “I knew guilt-tripping you would work”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable. I’m trying to be romantic, and you’re gloating”

“Don’t ruin the moment,” she teases, taking a bite of the pancake. “But if you really want to make it up to me, you can clean the kitchen after this”

You groan, but you know she’s joking. Mostly.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Move-in Day

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.8K

❀ ━ warnings: none except this shits so dialogue heavy it’s almost sickening

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hiii so this is my new series!!! i lowkey hate this chapter SO much i’ve rewritten it three times and can’t get it the way i want so i’m just publishing it as is. this fic is going to be much more light-hearted than take me to church (lol), big big slow burn and if i get it right almost reminiscent of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than i did LOL

THE EARLY afternoon light filters in through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the apartment floor. Paige stands in the middle of her new room, surveying the chaos of boxes, bags, and half-assembled furniture. It’s good to be back on campus—she’s been away for a few weeks, visiting her dad and Drew in Maryland and then her mom and siblings in Montana, and while she’s glad to have seen them, she can’t help but feel a pull toward the UConn, being with the team, practicing, basketball, all the above.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, anticipation for the new year, the new faces, the new challenges. She’s already mentally putting together how the season might go, how she’ll keep pushing herself harder, how she’s ready to lead her team. It feels like the first time in a long time that she’s been able to focus purely on basketball without the stress or rehab and recovery and she’s glad.

Her roommate, Josephine Jacobson—Jo—isn’t around yet. She’s a freshman, a sweet girl, the type that bleeds sunshine but can pull the demon out of herself on the court. Paige knows all about her, of course—how she’s a natural point guard, the number one recruit in the nation, will probably be the future of their team—but they’ve never really been close. Haven’t had the chance to be. But, as always, Paige feels optimistic about it. God put them together for a reason. After all, her past roommates have become some of her best friends. Nika and Evina her freshman year, and then Amari and Dorka last year. It just works out that way. Basketball bonds people, and she’s sure this year will be no different.

She moves one of the boxes to the side, careful not to knock over a stack of them as she does so. She arranges a pile of sweatshirts and sweatpants, making sure everything’s folded as neatly as she’s able to before moving on to the next task. This year, she’s determined to keep things organized, less chaos, more control. She wants her space to actually look nice, not like she’s some sort of slob. (She’s not sure how long this goal is going to last for).

Aubrey strolls in, another one of Paige’s boxes tucked into her hip. She’s already unpacked herself, having got here yesterday, and she’d offered to help Paige when she got here a little under an hour ago. Aubrey opens the box, seeing the bright purple comforter inside.

“Okay, P! I see color!” she says, a teasing grin on her face. “You finally given up on making your room look like a prison cell?”

Paige laughs, rolling her eyes. “Aye, my standards have rose this year. No more living in a box.” She gestures to the several LeBron and basketball posters filtering the floor in the corner of the room. “Decorating it nice this time, trust.”

Aubrey shakes her head, clearly amused. “Yep, I’m sure Bron’s face being the first thing you see when you walk in is gon’ make it real cozy.”

Paige just laughs again, stepping back to decide which corner of the room she wants her bed in. She tilts her head, looking back before deciding it’ll go best directly across the mirror-closet. For certain reasons she’d probably rather keep to herself for now.

“Who’re you rooming with again?” Paige asks, looking over at Aubrey, who’s taken the liberty of placing the millions of shoes Paige owns on the top shelf of her closet.

“Carol and Lili. It’s gonna be chill, for sure.” She shrugs before her eyes gleam a little, smirking at Paige. “Azzi’s gonna have it rough this year, though. Putting her with two freshmen is crazy work. They hyper as hell.”

Paige shrugs a little as she moves over to her bed. “Eh, Ines seems more quiet if anything. Ice, though, yeah. Azzi’ll be fine, though. She deals with me enough and I’m prolly just as bad.”

“Worse,” Aubrey corrects.

Paige rolls her eyes, opting to ask, “Can you help?” instead of responding to the jab. Aubrey nods, moving from her spot by the closet to stand next to Paige before the bed. “Where d’you want it?” she asks.

“Just in that corner,” the blonde responds, nodding her head to the other side.

Aubrey nods again and strides to the opposite side of the bed, the one near the wall. It’s a queen, so it’s too wide for just the two of them to carry, meaning they’ll have to just push it. Paige sighs before starting, her muscles straining slightly as she shoves her bed across the floor, the bed frame scraping noisily against it. Aubrey’s beside her, grabbing the other side with a grunt, their movements in sync but still awkward, both of them trying to be careful not to knock anything over or break anything.

“So,” Aubrey starts, breaking the rhythm of their movements, “what d’you think about yours? Jo. She’s a freshie, too.”

Paige doesn’t pause, her hands gripping the bed frame as she shifts it a few more inches. She’s thinking more about the layout of the room—where she wants things. After a few seconds, she shrugs, glancing over at Aubrey. “She’s cute,” Paige says simply, her voice light as she looks for the right angle to fit the bed by the wall.

Aubrey pauses. For a second, Paige doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy pushing the bed into position. But then Aubrey let’s our a low, exaggerated breath and Paige glances up, noticing the way she’s studying her with a raised brow.

Aubrey gives her a behave type of look. “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson,” she tells Paige, slow and deliberate, like she’s really trying to get the blonde to understand this.

Paige’s head whips toward her, eyes wide, her grip slipping off the bed frame. “What?” she asks, voice higher than she intends. She looks at Aubrey, still not quite sure if she’s hearing her right. “What are you even talking ‘bout?”

Aubrey just stares, the expression on her face unwavering. “I’m saying, you can’t fuck her. Like, seriously, don’t even think about it.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, but it’s not the harshness of them that makes her heart skip. It’s the fact that Aubrey said it with such absolute certainty, like it was a rule she needed to lay down for Paige.

The blonde furrows her brows as she process what Aubrey just said. She opens her mouth, trying to make sense of it. “Aubrey, what? I—” she stops herself, trying to piece things together. The more she thinks about it, the weirder it all sounds. She barely knows Jo—hell, Jo hasn’t even gotten to campus yet. She’s literally just a sweet freshman, one of the new players. Of course, Paige isn’t thinking about anything remotely romantic with her. Not at all.

She can’t even fathom it.

“Aubrey, bro, are you seriously suggesting that I… What?” Paige repeats, still not believing it. “I—I don’t—no, no, that’s not even a thing.”

Aubrey exclaims, “You just said she was cute! You can’t be doing that, P.”

Paige shakes her head, laughing a little in disbelief, clearly thrown by the whole insinuation. “Yeah, like in a I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks kind of cute,” she says, mimicking the motion with her hands. “Like she’s sweet, not like she’s fine and I wanna hit that. She’s a freshman and our teammate, bro—you know I ain’t do stuff like that.”

Aubrey, unfazed by Paige’s defense, just raises an eyebrow. “Ion know, your hook-ups have been kinda wild lately.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she reaches down, grabbing the corner of the bed and pulling it another inch into place. “That’s different,” Paige tells her. “That was like, months ago—”

“Three weeks ago,” Aubrey interrupts, but Paige doesn’t bother listening.

“—and that wasn’t even serious. I wouldn’t do that shit with Jo. She’s pretty, but—”

She cuts herself off, realizing how that could sound, and immediately backpedals.

“But she’s a teammate,” Paige finishes, nodding as though it’s the most logical conclusion. Which, it is. “I don’t see her like that. She’ll prolly be like a little sister or something. Seriously, you ain’t gotta worry about this.”

Aubrey doesn’t seem entirely convinced but just shrugs it off with a nonchalant wave. “Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure. Senior duties and all,” she says.

Paige rolls her eyes, nudging the girl in her ribs. Aubrey hisses, and nudges the blonde back. And then they return their attention to the bed, giving it one final tug, making sure it’s aligned just right.

Paige pulls away, taking a look with her hands on her hips. The room looks good, feels right. A good place to spend her next year. And even though she doesn’t know what that year might bring—how the team will play, how her body will hold up—it feels like everything’s in its place for now.

(Minus Aubrey’s odd assumptions, that is).

JO’S STOMACH flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves as the car pulls into the parking lot right in front of what will be her new home. Her gaze drifts over the apartment building, taking in the sprawling complex that will be hers for the next year. The sun is high, casting everything in a golden glow, and it’s one of those perfect, early summer days—the kind that makes everything feel new and fresh. This is it. She’s finally here. UConn; her dream since forever. The place she’s watched on TV for as long as she can remember, watching them win championship after championship. And, now, it’s real. She’s actually here.

Her dad pulls into a parking space, the car humming to a stop, and Jo takes a deep breath, fighting back the lump in her throat. It’s not that she’s scared; it’s more that it feels huge. This is the beginning of everything. Her heart races a little, her palms tingling. She’s excited—so excited—but it’s all a little daunting, too. The whole what if she doesn’t belong here, what if it’s not everything she’s ever dreamed of echoes in her head, but she knows better than to entertain those thoughts. Despite this always being her dream school, she made sure to explore her options before committing. And, after everything, Storrs was somehow her favorite.

But it’s still a little hard to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispers doubts. At least she has familiar faces here—her teammates. She can’t imagine coming here alone, without knowing anyone at all, without that built-in support system. It helps, knowing that the people she’s going to spend the next chapter of her life with are familiar faces, not strangers. Still, there’s a big difference between practice and living together, between seeing someone for a few hours on a court and sharing an apartment with them. The whole thing feels a little surreal.

“Ready, sunshine?” her dad asks, giving her a side-eye as he shuts off the car. His voice has a teasing, comforting quality that always makes Jo feel like everything will be okay.

Jo doesn’t answer right away, just smiles nervously, nodding as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I think so,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Her mom grins at her from the front seat, practically glowing with excitement. “Come on, it’s gonna be so great, Joey.”

Jo laughs softly, the sound easy and light, nodding. They get out of the car, opening the trunk, and Jo begins unloading her bags and boxes—the millions of them. She didn’t mean to over-pack, but somehow, her whole life had been crammed into suitcases and boxes. Her parents each grab as much as they can hold, but even the three of them can’t carry everything, so they head toward the building, the weight of it all already starting to feel like more than it should.

The hallway inside the building smells like fresh paint and clean floors, and it has that crisp, cool air of a place that’s seen its fair share of new beginnings. Jo’s parents chat with each other, but Jo can hardly keep her thoughts straight. She’s here, really here, and she’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear that’s making her heart beat so fast.

They trudge up the stairs together—her dad leading, her mom picking up the rear, and Jo in the middle. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and every step takes them closer to her new life. She tries not to think about how much this move means, how much it’s going to mean—because that’s just the kind of thing that could make her go a little crazy.

When they finally reach her apartment, Jo’s the first to pull out her keys. She opens the door, excitement bubbling in her chest, but as she’s about to step inside, someone is trying to step out, bumping right into her.

Paige.

She steadies Jo with a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the girl—she’s only got a couple inches on Jo, but it certainly feels like a lot more right now—saying, with a little bit of surprise in her tone, “Oh, hi, Jo.”

Jo stills for just a split second. She’s met Paige several times—throughout her recruitment, last year when she and Ice and Yanna were here for First Night, all the games she attended in between—but, for Jo, it’s still a little like, wow, okay, hi Paige Bueckers. She’s admired Paige and her game for years, so yeah, maybe she’s a little starstruck every time she sees her. But she realizes just as quickly how that needs to change immediately because they are going to be living together for the next year. She’s here for a reason, not to be starry-eyed over the blonde girl in front of her.

“Hey!” Jo manages, flashing Paige a bright, warm smile that’s always her go-to move, even if her heart is racing.

Paige’s gaze shifts from Jo’s face to her parents, then down to the ridiculous amount of luggage they’re all holding, and her eyebrows raise. “Wow,” she says with a laugh. “Over-packer?”

Jo laughs, too, feeling some of that initial awkwardness beginning to seep away. “This isn’t even all of it,” she admits, shifting her weight a little. She realizes how she’s being a little rude, not introducing her mom and dad, so she gestures to them and says, “These are my parents. And this is Paige.”

Jo’s parents exchange polite hellos, nodding toward the blonde, who’s already stepping aside to let them through.

“Lemme help you with that,” Paige offers before anyone can protest, already lifting a couple of boxes from Jo’s mom. It’s clear she’s used to helping out—comfortable in this setting—and Jo appreciates it, even though she knows she can manage. But Paige’s energy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel comforted by the ease in the older girl’s presence.

“Thanks,” Jo says gratefully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

Paige shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “It’s all good. We’ve got time. I’ll help you get settled.”

The four of them make their way into the apartment, and Jo’s parents immediately make a beeline for Jo’s bedroom to drop off the bags they’re carrying. They work together, setting everything down in a neat pile before Jo’s mom turns to her with a warm smile.

“We’ll go get the rest of it,” she tells her daughter. “You start unpacking, ‘kay?”

Jo nods, trying to hide the way her heart sinks a little at the idea of being left alone for the first time in a new place.

But then she realizes, she’s not alone. Paige is still here.

Jo takes a deep breath, then steps further into her room, already eyeing the empty bed and the space where she’s going to have to build her new life. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them. For a moment, neither says anything. It’s a little awkward, that first silence between two almost-strangers who are about to be more than that—roommates, teammates, friends.

Paige rubs the back of her neck, probably feeling it too. Clearly, though, she doesn’t like that, and Jo watches as she lazily plops down into the standard-issue desk chair, making herself at ease. She grins at Jo, saying with a casualness that somehow manages to be both disarming and mildly intimidating, “So, how was the drive?”

Jo shrugs a little, leaning slightly on the bed frame. “Not bad,” she replies. “Boston’s only like an hour and a half away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige says, nodding her head in almost mock realization. “New England girl. I knew that.”

Jo grins, bemused and already starting to feel more comfortable. “Born and raised.”

“Nice,” Paige says, dragging the word out a little. “You got the accent and everything?”

“I don’t know, do I sound like I do?” Jo asks, laughing softly.

Paige’s grin widens as she spins in the chair. “Hmm,” she hums, eyes narrowing teasingly. “I dunno, talk more.”

Jo laughs again, looking at the blonde with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” she questions, tilting her head as another small giggle bubbles in her chest.

“Like, something with an R. That’s what a Boston accent is, right?” Paige shrugs, gummy smile on full display and eyebrows raised. She leans forward a little, before saying with a terrible attempt at a Boston accent, “Park the car in Harvard yard?”

Jo can’t help but outright snort at that, stomach constricting as she laughs at the blonde. Paige laughs, too, scrunching her nose as she does so. “Oh my God, you did not,” Jo manages between giggles, eyes crinkling a little.

“I did,” Paige replies. “Now you gotta! Lemme hear the accent!”

“You’re not real,” Jo mumbles, shaking her head, in half disbelief at the pure unseriousness of Paige Bueckers. But it’s nice—that she’s already making her feel so comfortable. Jo sighs, before saying indignantly, “Park the car in Harvard yard.”

Paige claps her hands together, laughing loudly as she exclaims, “You definitely have one!”

Jo’s jaw drops a little, defending, “No one has ever told me I have an accent, you definitely just need your ears checked.”

Paige grins, shaking her head, saying, “Nah, it’s there. I heard it.”

“Fine,” Jo relents, rolling her eyes. “You should hear my dad, though. It’s really thick sometimes.”

Paige leans forward on the chair again, eyes lighting up with a bit of interest. “I gotta hear it. Maybe I’ll ask him to say it, too.”

Jo just shakes her head, rolling her eyes again as the corners of her mouth twitch upward despite herself. There’s something about Paige that makes it hard to stay guarded—not that Jo was trying to. She’s just… larger than life in a way that could definitely be overwhelming, but there’s such an ease to her too, a confidence that feels oddly inviting.

“Are you finished unpacking?” Jo asks, breaking the newfound silence as she gestures vaguely toward the blonde’s room behind the door.

Paige shrugs, her expression somewhere between proud and sheepish. “Mostly. Aubrey and I did it this morning, but I definitely cut corners. If you open any of the drawers in there, so messy. I got lazy.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. “Efficient, though.”

“Exactly,” Paige says, pointing at her. “You get it.”

And then the easy rhythm between them is interrupted by the loud, unmistakable growl of Jo’s stomach. Her cheeks flush immediately as Paige’s grin spreads wider, her laugh concerns again breaking the quiet of the room.

“Hungry?” she teases, spinning the chair one last time before stopping to slouch backward against it.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jo groans, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, breakfast.”

“Same,” Paige says with a nod, pushing herself up out of the chair and stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’re all gonna get pizza tonight, though. Go up to Nika’s and hang out. She’s with Yanna and Amari. You’re coming, of course.”

Jo grins, raising her eyebrows as she says teasingly, “I don’t have a choice?” It’s just a joke, because, obviously, even if she did, she’d go either way.

Paige gives her a little look, narrowing her eyes jokingly as she leans forward, flicking Jo on the arm and telling her, “Absolutely not.”

Before she can respond, there’s a knock at the doorframe and Jo’s mom’s voice floats in cheerfully, “Look who we found!”

Jo turns to see her parents standing in the doorway, her dad carrying a suitcase while her mom holds the door open for someone else—none other than Ice Brady. Jo knows Ice well, the two of them having gotten easily close during different USA basketball gigs and through their shared commitment process. Ice grins broadly, a laundry basket balanced on her hip—clearly, she’s been put to work.

“Aye, hey guys!” she calls out, stepping into the room with an energy that matches her nickname—cool, but in a warm and easy way.

“Of course they roped you into helping,” Jo says, laughing as Ice sets the basket down with a playful groan.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she says, shaking her head playfully as she glances back at Jo’s parents who just smile at her, shrugging.

Ice then leans in, giving Jo a little side-hug as she says, “Hey, JoJo.”

Jo rolls her eyes, swatting at Ice’s arm. “I told you, no calling me that.” While Paige, who’s now leant casually against the desk, exclaims, “Oh my God, like JoJo Siwa.”

Ice laughs saying, “Exactly,” as she leans over and daps Paige up with a grin. Jo gives both of them little glares, saying, “No, I am not JoJo Siwa! Jo or Josephine, nothing else.”

Ice shrugs, sniggering, “JoJo.”

“Isuneh!”

THE AIR in the apartment is warm and filled with the hum of overlapping voices. Paige sits tucked into the corner of the small couch, her legs crossed under her, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on a paper plate in her lap. To her right, Dorka’s mid-sentence, recounting some story from her summer that has Aaliyah laughing hard enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

It’s the first real team hangout of the year, the kind where the bonds for the season start to form, where they begin to really get to know the new guys. The absence of last year’s seniors—Christyn, Olivia, E—feels strange but not exactly heavy; just like a space waiting to be filed rather than a void that can’t be. Paige glances across the room at Lou, Azzi, and Ines, sprawled across the other couch. Azzi leans back, her ankles crossed on the coffee table, her focus more on her phone than the conversation, but Paige knows her well enough to see that she’s listening. Lou’s animated hands keep catching Paige’s eye as she gestures through some story, and Ines is nodding along, face lighting up with her adorable freshman-ness.

Paige’s gaze then drifts downward, landing on the scene on the floor. Jo is half-laying across Caroline’s legs, her dark hair spilling against Caroline’s leggings. Caroline, ever the mother, absently runs her fingers through Jo’s hair while chatting with Aubrey. Faintly, Paige is aware that Jo and Caroline know each other well, have been friends for years. Both grew up in Massachusetts, not far from one another, same AAU team if Paige’s memory serves her correctly.

The new guys—the freshmen and Lou—all already fit in well. Lou and Ines have already created easy bonds with each other and Azzi. Ice is playfully bickering with Nika and Amari at the table, the three of them leaning into a conversation that seems half-joking, half-serious. Jo’s a little quiet, looking more thoughtful than anything, but Paige can tell she’s completely comfortable as she lays on Caroline and listens to her steady stream of chatter. Yanna, too, though she’s also on the quiet side, pitches into Aubrey and Caroline’s conversation every now and then.

Paige shifts her focus back to her plate, taking another bite of pizza. It’s bland and overly chewy, a far cry from what she’s been craving. She doesn’t say anything, though. The conversation flows around her, easy and light, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of someone setting a cup down too hard.

“God, this tastes like cardboard,” Ice announces suddenly, holding up her slice with a look of exaggerated disgust.

“Yeah, it’s… not good,” Jo says with a little grimace, Paige watching as she glances at her half-eaten slice that she hasn’t touched in probably ten minutes.

“Tastes like cafeteria food,” Yanna says from her spot on the bar stool, though Paige can see that she’s eaten all of hers.

“Worse than cafeteria food,” Azzi chimes in, eyes still on her phone, tone a little dry. “School pizza pretends to have flavor.”

Nika nods at everyone’s words, looking like the pizza situation might as well be a tragedy. Which, to Nika, Paige knows it kind of is. “Yeah, bro, we gotta go to New Haven if we want any god pizza. It’s my biggest disappointment in life.”

Paige grins at that, leaning back into the couch as she watches the exchange. It’s funny to her how every year, without fail, the new players get hit with the reality of Storrs’ subpar pizza options. “Y’all gotta get used to it.”

Ice groans, and Paige laughs a little as she contradicts herself and takes another big bite of pizza.

Jo glances up from her spot on the floor, dark brows arching in amusement. “Nika, New Haven’s an hour away.”

“Worth it,” Nika insists, hands slicing through the air for emphasis. “Best pizza in the country, hands down.”

“Eh, debatable,” Ice fires back, smirking.

“Debatable?” Nika repeats, looking scandalized. “’Kay, no, see, now you gotta go. I’m takin’ you to Pepe’s or Sally’s, and then we’ll talk.”

The debate spirals from there, the room splitting into factions—those who have been to New Haven and swear by it, and the skeptics like Ice who clearly need convincing. Paige inputs a couple times, but other than that continues eating her cardboard pizza, taking the time to listen, which she doesn’t usually do. The topic quickly starts to feel like it’s been beaten to death, but that doesn’t stop Nika from gesturing wildly as Ice shakes her head, arms crossed like she’s already over it.

Paige’s gaze shifts from them to Jo and Caroline, who are directly in front of her across the room. There’s a mischievous tilt to Jo’s smile as she watches Ice and Nika, and Paige feels a pang of curiosity. Jo looks like she’s got something to say, and sure enough, a beat later, she interrupts with a voice that carries just enough weight to make everyone turn her way.

“Ice,” Jo interrupts, her tone deceptively innocent, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s quit talking about pizza and talk about your new little goal you’ve got.”

The room collectively seems to perk up at that. Paige sits up straighter, interest piqued. She glances at Ice, who immediately shoots Jo a warning glare.

“No,” the Brady girl says firmly, voice clipped.

The refusal only makes Paige more curious. She leans forward, elbows on her knees now, eyes wide with a playful insistence. “Oh, no, you gotta tell us now,” she exclaims, grin wide.

Aaliyah, beside her, says, “Yeah, Ice, don’t leave us hangin’!”

Ice shakes her head, clearly unwilling to budge. But Jo, apparently unfazed by the glare the Brady girl has set on her hard, sits up slightly, her smile turning almost devilish. “Ice said she wants a sneaky link by next week. It’s her number one goal now that she’s on campus!”

The reaction is instant and explosive. Loud laughs and little screams of exclamation erupt from everyone as Ice’s face twists into a mix of betrayal and outrage. Paige finds herself laughing so hard she has to lean back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling as her shoulders shake.

“Jo!” Ice exclaims, her voice a biz of exasperation and disbelief. She grabs a napkin from the table and chucks it at Jo, who barely flinches.

Caroline picks the napkin up and tosses it toward the trash can, her tone scolding and motherly as she says, “Ice.”

But Ice doesn’t listen. Instead, she points an accusing finger at Jo, her eyes narrowing. “JoJo, you’re such a traitor.”

Jo’s grin only widens. She shrugs, looking utterly unbothered as she settled back into Caroline’s lap. “Hey, we’re all willing to help you find a fuck buddy, don’t you worry.”

Ice glares even harder and it makes Jo laugh again. Paige can’t help but let her gaze linger on the brunette, her chest still tight from laughing. Jo’s giggles are unrestrained, her cheeks flushed with amusement. There’s something about it that Paige finds infectious. The way Jo lights up when she’s laughing feels almost magnetic, like she’s carrying her own little pocket of sunshine.

“Oh, Ice,” Nika says, pulling Paige’s gaze away from Jo. There’s a familiar glint in Nika’s eyes. “If you need help finding a sneaky link, Paige is the expert. She’s got you covered.”

Paige’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as she stares at her twin. “Yo!” she exclaims, sitting up.

Amari snorts from her spot at the table, her expression one of barely-constrained amusement. “P, be for real.”

Azzi, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in a while, adds in without missing a beat, “Paige is a man-whore, if that wasn’t obvious.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her hand clutching her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “I ain’t even a man!”

“You act like one,” Caroline chimes in, voice calm but teasing.

Paige just stares at all of them, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Man, what’s all this gangin’ up on me for?” she asks, her tone half-offended, half-playful.

Eventually, the room’s energy slowly shifts as the teasing dies down. Laughter fades into soft chuckles, and everyone starts settling back into their spots. Paige stretches her legs out again, her socked feet brushing lightly against the coffee table. The buzz of the conversation has left her grinning, though her cheeks still feel warm from all the ribbing. She’s content to let the chatter flow around her now, her focus drifting as she scrolls on Instagram until Aaliyah leans forward from the couch and throws a spark back into the room.

“Jo,” Aaliyah says, tone playful, “since you were so quick to expose Ice, you got anyone you’ve been wanting?”

Paige perks up at that, curious despite herself. Sue her if she’s nosy. She glances toward Jo, who’s still sprawled on the floor, her head now resting against Caroline’s knee. Jo’s expression doesn’t change much, maybe softens slightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ice says quickly, annoyance lacing her voice. Paige can tell it’s because she can’t humiliate Jo like she’s just exposed her. Ice gestures at the Jacobson girl with her pizza crust like she’s making a point. “Girl’s already met her damn husband.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the certainty in Ice’s tone. She watches Jo carefully now, noting the way a faint smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the cheeky grin she’s been wearing most of the night; it’s something softer, quieter, like the thought of this so-called future husband of hers is enough to soothe her, ground her.

Amari leans forward from her chair and tilts her head. “Aw, Jo, you have a boyfriend?”

Jo nods, that same small, telling smile still on her face. Paige notices how her cheeks turn just the slightest shade pinker. It’s… different. Softer, almost vulnerable.

Damn, Paige thinks, watching her. She must really love that boy.

The room seems to erupt again, this time not in laughter but in a cascade of questions and exclamations. Nika asks, “How long you been dating?”

Jo shifts a little, clearly embarrassed, mumbling, “Eighth grade.”

Paige feels her eyes widen, almost so wide they might as well pop out of their sockets. It’s impressive—a middle school relationship lasting that long.

But then Caroline adds with a knowing smile, “Yeah, but you’ve loved him since you were, like, four, Jo.”

Jo’s face flushes deeper, and she buries it briefly against Caroline’s leg before mumbling, “Yeah, we’ve been next-door neighbors our whole lives.”

The whole team seems to aw at that, exclaiming how cute. “Jo, that’s like a movie!” Azzi says softly, a hopeless romantic. Paige has to admit they’re not wrong. It’s that perfect, golden sort of story people write novels about—the girl-next-door falling for the boy-next-door.

Except Paige doesn’t really think it’s all that cute. Maybe it’s because she’s too gay, but she doesn’t get how anyone could be into a boy, especially for that long. It just seems… exhausting. Still, she keeps her mouth shut, letting the conversation roll on without her. It’s uncharacteristic.

Ines, eyes wide with interest asks, “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Jo answers, voice soft but steady.

Dorka, next to Paige, claps her hands together. “Let me see a picture, Jo!”

Jo hesitates for a second, her blush depending, but then she sits up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She unlocks it, turning the screen toward Dorka—and toward Paige, who can’t help but sneak a glance.

Paige hates to admit it, but it’s… cute. The way Jo’s looking at him in the picture—it’s soft, unguarded, like the rest of the world could fall away, and she wouldn’t care as long as he’s there.

Paige doesn’t know if she’s jealous that Jo has a love like that and she doesn’t, or if she’s disgusted by the whole prospect.

Dorka coos, smile wide. “So cute!”

Jo laughs, a little bashful now, and Aubrey pipes up from her spot on the barstool by the kitchen. “Where’s he going to school?”

“Penn State,” Jo answers.

Paige catches the the slight shift in Jo’s posture, the way she tenses a little, the way her smile falters ever so slightly. That kind of distance is hard, especially for a young relationship.

Paige leans back into the couch, her gaze still lingering on Jo as the conversation continues. She wonders if they’ll last. Not in a mean way—Jo clearly loves the guy—but Paige has seen it happen before. Everyone has. High school sweethearts falling apart once they hit college, the distance and the changes proving too much.

Still, something about the way Jo smiled at him in that photo makes Paige hesitate. Maybe they’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Or maybe it’s not her place for even thinking about it at all.