#a friend who would walk stride for stride with me while everyone else took off ahead

[sidetongue]

covered in mud

[just-some-trans-nobody]

(Nsfw)

Orc boyfriend who's really into breeding kink, but his human mate don't want/can't have children, so he just keep filling up his mate anyway

December Christmas Monster stories

December 4.) Orc Breeding

Orc boyfriend x gender neutral reader

Thank you for this request! Hope you and everyone else enjoys. This gave me way to much trouble, for some reason everytime I went to save it, it just wouldn't save.

Warning: NSFW, breeding, cream pie, unprotected sex, no prep before sex, mention of pregnancy, small amount of alcohol

Minors don't interact!

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Wanting to do something romantic for your boyfriend on christmas you kicked him out for a few hours so you can set everything up. He left with friends to go get drinks, promising you he would be back in two hours giving you plenty of time to set everything up. 

Spreading flower petals down on the floor from the front door you made a trail of them to the bedroom you shared with your large hunk of an orc you loved oh so dearly. Next you set up candles here and there letting their sweet aroma fill the air. Turning on the stereo you put on a long playlist of songs to get nasty too, you knew to put on an extra long one, Grogmar loved to take his sweet time having his way with you and you loved that. The last step was to put on sexy Christmas lingerie. It was lacey with fuzzy white trim, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

Picking your phone up you shot him a text to check and see when he would be back. Playing it safe you sent another text telling him to come alone for his surprise, you didn’t want to risk his buddies seeing you like this. You didn’t get a text right away so you set your phone down on the nightstand walking away just as you got a text back from him saying he had just parked. Going to the kitchen you pulled out two glasses and poured some champagne into them.

Hearing the door unlocking you picked the two glasses and stepped out of the kitchen right in time for Grogmar to open the door. His eyes looked to you and widened as he went stiff taking in the sight of you dressed like that. Grinning you struck a pose popping your hip out lightly. “Merry christmas~” You purred while holding up one of the glasses for him. Stepping inside he closed the door not breaking his stride as he approached you. With one hand he took the glass from you, his other hand going to your ass. His hand covered all of your cheek with it’s large size. “Now this is a merry christmas. Might be my favorite gift so far.” He chuckled, leaning in catching your lips with his in a heated kiss. Moaning against his lips you pressed your body against him feeling that he was already growing hard. Pulling away he trailed kisses down to your neck, his tusks rubbing against you as he kissed you like a desperate man. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” You moaned as he continued to attack your neck in kisses. 

“Can’t wait that long.” He mumbled against your neck before he hosted you up in one arm. Carrying you to the table he set you down on the edge before setting his glass down next to you. Watching him step back you brought your own glass up to your lips taking a long sip as he fumbled with his pants. “So eager to use your gift hmm~?” You teased watching as he finally got it off. “Always eager when it’s with you.” Grogmar said as he stepped in between your legs going back to kissing you neck drawing a moan from your lips. His hands gripped your thighs rubbing them at a rough pace as he gave them a squeeze. Moaning he grinded against you wanting any sort of friction. “Grog please.” You whispered, leaning your head back. “Please fuck me, fill me up with your cum.” You knew how exactly to push his buttons, you knew just how much that would rile him up and it did. Groaning against your next he pulled your legs open wider as he pushed his wide tip into you earning a moan from you. Grabbing onto his shoulders you had to hold onto him for support as he pushed more of his cock into you. No matter how many times he had taken you he was always just so damn big, he had to be careful at the start.

Panting you pressed your head against his chest, a soft whine leaving you as he stretched you open wide. “Doing so good for me baby, gonna fill you up so much. Yer gonna look pregnant once I’m done with you.” Grogmar knew that was impossible but the thought always got him hot and bothered. It rubbed a more feral part of his brain so nicely thinking about breeding you. Hearing your loud moan brought him back to reality, he was getting easily lost in the pleasure already. “You take me so well.” He moaned, thrusting into you harder causing you to cry out. “Oh fuck! Grog! Yes fuck just like that.” You screamed out not caring how loud you were getting, you couldn’t care less at that moment. His cock just felt too good, you didn’t think you could hold in any sounds even if you tried to. The wet sounds of his sloppy thrusts were barely covered up by the music playing in the background. “You love it when I pound you like this don’t you? You love when my cock stretches you so well.” Grog moaned, lifting your legs up onto his shoulders. Leaning down he pressed his chest to yours. His cock reaching into you deeper with his new position. Trying to answer him your words came out as moaning gibberish unable to talk as he fucked you stupid. “Gods look at you. The devinines would be jealous of your beauty.” He praised kissing your jaw. “Fuck! Grog!” Was all you were able to say as you let out a choked moan. “F-fill me up… Need it… please please!” You whined as you started to claw at his back. Grogmar groaned feeling your nails on his back, it was a good kind of pain he was more than happy to feel. He would gladly show them off if you managed to leave a scar from it, though it was unlikely to happen. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he grew closer to his orgasim, you were close too. “How could I say no when you're asking so nicely?” He asked as he started to thrust faster slamming his hips into in a unrelenting pace. Throwing your head back against the table you let out a scream of pleasure as you tightened around him cumming. Your tightness drove him to the edge causing him to cum inside of you. “Yes of fuck Grog fill me up with your cum!” You moaned encouraging him. Bending over you he grunted and groaned as he kept thrusting, riding out his orgasmism making sure he got every drop of his seed into you. Panting his hips slowed to a stop as he pressed his head against your shoulder. “Haa~ felt so good.” He mumbled gently rubbing your thighs. “You're always so good for me.” Grogmar praised placing gentle kisses all over your shoulder and neck. “Mm you do too Groggy. Now let's get cleaned up and unwrap the other gifts.” You said trying to sit up a little. “Did you forget what I said?” Grogmar whispered tusks grazing against your neck as he spoke. Confused and a little dazed, you looked down at him. Opening your mouth you began to ask what he meant when you let out a sudden moan feeling a harsh thrust. “You're going to look pregnant once I’m done and you don’t look pregnant yet so I ain’t done yet.” He explained, his grip on your thighs tightening again as he continued to thrust into you. Moaning you laid back down on the table more than happy to keep going. This definitely was your best Christmas yet.

[fuctacles]

<<4 | 5 | 6>>

Eddie held back and was nice enough to give him an ice pack after. 

"Thank you," Steve murmurs, placing the frozen peas on his chin. He's not taking his eyes off Eddie, who's wired up and walking back and forth in the tiny kitchen. Steve is low-key expecting another hit. If he had his tail, it would be tucked between his legs. 

"Why?" Eddie finally asks, the first thing he says since the punch. But before he can get an answer, he follows with: "Does everyone else know?"

"Yes," Steve admits guiltily. "I didn't want to drop it on you right after the Upside Down, but the longer it took, the weirder it got, and I just..." he trails off with half a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs, sending him a glare while his strides pick up speed. It would look ridiculous, since it takes only three of his steps to walk through the kitchen, if it wasn't so serious. 

"You made it weirder alright. Why did you follow me around instead of hanging out like a normal human being?!" He throws his arms wildly around, almost hitting the fridge. "Or did you just want to keep tabs on me? Like a weird little dog-stalker?!"

"No!" Steve protests indignantly, but then falters. "Well, I— Kind of? But just to, you know, protect you."

Eddie finally stops. Which is not a good sign as far as Steve is concerned, but Eddie just stares at him. 

He recounts the run-ins they had with the local righteous mob. He reimagines them with Steve by his side instead, the human one, and there's no universe in which it doesn't end up with an escalation. People don't normally pick up fights with dogs, apparently. But...

"Was sleeping on my couch and eating my hot dogs also to protect me?"

Steve folds in on himself and Eddie can almost imagine his sad dog ears flopping down. 

"No, I just—"

Eddie's suddenly in his line of vision, squatting in front of him to peer into his face mockingly.

"Was it just for fun? Little doggy wanted belly rubs and treats? Make everyone look at me weird because I'm scratching Steve Harrington between his ears?" he scoffs. "And dude, I would do all of it, if I knew it was you. You were worried it would be too much for me after Vecna? I'm a nerd! I eat that shit up. Do you know how much better I'd feel knowing werewolves are real?!"

Steve is not even surprised at his outburst. He just shuffles his legs and corrects softly:

"Lykans."

Eddie jumps up, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, now you're gonna tell me?! You lost your naming privileges, man, you're a werewolf, period."

He leans against the cupboards behind him, foot tapping restlessly. But he was angry at so many things at once, that he didn't know what to grasp first.

"Why did you avoid me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Eddie interrupts him. "I never saw you around, only the dog. And then you started avoiding everyone else too. Why?"

Steve sighs, slipping the half-thawed pack of peas away from his face. His body slumps like any traces of fight have just left him.

"I guess it was easier. I could just walk around, keep an eye on everyone, and not... explain myself."

"Can't lie without vocal chords, huh?"

Steve sends him a tired look, and Eddie feels the tiniest of bits bad. He raises his hands placatingly. 

"I'm not your therapist. But I thought I was your friend."

"You are! Just..."

"Just not good enough to share the truth with?" Eddie offers.

Steve groans, this time unfolding to fall against the chair's backrest. 

"See, this is why I prefer shifting. I don't have to explain my thoughts to others, nothing is weird and unspoken, and everyone fucking loves me. They pet me and tell me nice things. But when I'm a human, I'm getting laughed at, dumped, used for rides, and have to stay alone in a big empty house."

Eddie just blinks at him, his anger slowly shifting into concern. 

"That's uh, a lot to unpack there," he says gently, pursing his lips in thought. "You know we've been worried about you, right? That we don't see you anymore. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but the kids knew something was going on with you."

Steve scoffs.

"Yeah, they noticed when they had to go beg Nancy for rides."

"Dude." Eddie frowns at him, both irritated and concerned. "I am so tempted to get your other cheek right now. Didn't Dustin call you to clear the air between us?"

"Yes, because you called him first," Steve reminds him. 

"Still, he could have left it for us to deal with on our own. But he cares, so he reached out. " Eddie sighs. "He wants us to be friends, but most of all, he wants you to open up; not to me, but to the rest of the party. So why are you holing yourself up, man? What's wrong?"

Steve doesn't move from his semi-open position, but he crosses his arms, and he's looking away at Wayne's cap collection, visible through the open space to his right. 

Eddie just looks at him, the worry in his stomach growing like a parasite. He decides that maybe this is enough for today. Enough feelings, talking, and confessions. That it is time to clear the air.

And by 'clear' he means 'cloud it with smoke'.

"Let's put a pin on that," he says and finally, Steve looks back at him, both worried and curious. "I think we both need to chill out and I still have that weed stored away for you. And a really bad horror from Gareth. The blood looks like ketchup, you're gonna love it."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

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a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

[timetodecidedjo]

hi saw your post about prompts for Logan and wade! would you write about them getting caught in the act tehe 🙈

Yes!! This one was SO much fun to write!! I’m going to post it to AO3 as well under my username xuaerduobb. I haven’t written and put anything out in quite some time, so if it’s not the best, I’m sorry!

I hope you love it ❤️💛

“Happy birthday, Al!!”

Don’t ask how Wade and Logan pulled it off (it was mostly a lot of help from Laura). It was Althea’s 80th birthday and Wade really wanted to throw her a party with all of their closest friends to remind her of how much they all really loved her. You only turn 80 once, right?

Everyone scrounged up enough money to rent out a small party room inside of a restaurant, one of Al’s favorites, and decorated it just for her. Wade would argue that the need for decorations seemed unnecessary because well… she’s blind. Nevertheless, it came together perfectly, and she was totally surprised.

“Motherfuck!!” She yelled out before backing into Laura who had brought her down to the restaurant from their apartment. She went to grab her small pistol from her pocket, but Logan stopped her before she could.

“Althea, it’s just us. We threw you a birthday party.”

“Oh my sweet Logan!” The elderly woman chimed, pulling him in for a tight hug. Wade’s mouth dropped open like he felt overlooked causing Logan to smirk and laugh.

“You and Laura put this all together for me?” She asked while Logan walked her over to her seat so she could rest from their long walk there.

“Wade helped. Kinda,” he teased before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“It was my idea in the first place!” The merc with a mouth argued while everyone else had already moved on.

Everyone who was able to come to the party were taking their seats, including Dopinder, Ellie (Negasonic Teenage Warhead) and Yukio, Colossus, Vanessa, and Peter. It made Wade’s heart swell to see all of his friends together to celebrate Al, who had truly been like a mother to him. They really were one big, kinda freaky, happy family.

Wade sat down at the table next to his boyfriend and took his free hand on the table. Logan looked over at the merc and smiled, finally getting more comfortable with the idea of PDA. He was never really a big fan of being affectionate in public with anyone, but Wade LOVED showing Logan off to everyone, and LOVED being touchy feely as always. It took some time, but after a while holding Wade’s hand in public was easy. It was a comfort.

“Everything sounds so good!” Vanessa mentioned as everyone looked over the menu in front of them. Laura mentioned something about a sandwich and Peter noted that the steak was ‘just incredible’ there.

“I’m getting the steak too, Peter,” Logan seconded, now turning over to Wade for his decision on dinner.

“What about you, bub?”

“Nothing on this menu entices me the way you do in that sexy flannel button down,” Wade answered, his eyes glancing up and down at his lover. He practically had cartoon heart eyes popping out of his head watching Logan just sit there.

“I’m just going to order for you,” Logan informed as the waitress had gotten to their drink orders.

“I just love a man who takes charge.”

After dinner, it was time for Al to open her birthday gifts. Colossus picked up the table and put it to the side so that everyone could sit comfortably in their chairs to watch the birthday girl open her presents.

“Jesus, do you have to show off like that all the fucking time? Who are you even trying to impress?” Wade asked, mostly to annoy the steel hero.

Colossus just took it in stride and shook his head at the merc.

“Behave yourself, Wade. It’s Althea’s birthday.”

“Who invited the birthday etiquette police?” He quipped back as Logan pulled him down to take his seat. Their seats were at the back of the room, behind everyone else, while Laura helped Al into her seat at the front facing them. She would hand each card and gift to Al and help her open it. They had become very close in the 6 months they had all lived together at their new apartment. When Wade offered Logan a place to stay, and Laura was now with them in their timeline, it only seemed fair to let her stay with them as well. She had just made 19, but needed time to get on her feet, and Logan felt like maybe this was his chance to do right by someone. After all, she was technically his daughter, and they did share a certain connection that Logan felt was important to explore.

Al opened up her first gift bag, this gift from Dopinder, and tried to feel around it to figure out what it was.

“It’s an audiobook for you to listen to when you ride in the cab,” Dopinder beamed, very proud of his thoughtful gift.

“That’s so sweet,” Yukio said as she looked up from her phone, probably tweeting.

Logan watched along with everyone else before he was interrupted by his boyfriend beside him.

“Lo?” Wade said in a hushed tone.

“Wade?” The Wolverine replied without peeling his eyes away from Al.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“This oughta be good. Let’s hear it.”

“I started scoping out the bathroom in this place as soon as we walked in. It’s right down the hall, maybe 10 feet away.”

“Get to it,” Logan replied, sensing Wade’s body shifting closer to his own.

“You look absolutely ravishing this evening and I want — no I need to have you. Right now. In the bathroom.”

Logan hesitated. Was he enjoying himself at the party with all of their friends? Yes. Would he enjoy himself a hell of a lot more in the privacy of the bathroom with Wade? Hell yes.

“Meet me there in 3 minutes.”

Without drawing attention to himself or bothering anyone else, Logan stood up from his seat and began to make his way towards the hall and into the bathroom Wade whispers “go go go go” to his boyfriend as he passed his chair, counting down the seconds before he feels he's in the clear to make his getaway.

Once he believed 3 minutes had passed and Al had opened 2 more gifts, Wade got up to sneak into the bathroom to do ungodly things to the love of his life.

There was only one single private bathroom, no stalls, so thankfully there had been a lock for the door. When Wade opened the door, Logan had been standing there waiting for him with lust filled eyes. He grabbed the merc by the shirt and pulled him close, just to push him up against the door and kiss him.

As much as Wade wanted a 20 minute makeout session, complete with foreplay, they knew they probably didn’t have much time, so if they wanted to make each other come in this public bathroom, it needed to be soon.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Wade mumbled between kisses, his fingers tied up in Logan’s brown locks. “I still can't believe I get to tap that ass whenever I please.”

With one final sloppy kiss, Logan pulled back and gave his lover a smug grin.

“How ‘bout right now?”

Wade threw his head back in disbelief and utter joy while Logan was already undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans, the buckle of his belt rattling loudly in the echoes inside of the bathroom. Wade began doing the same as quickly as he could, and before he knew it, Logan was leaning over the sink counter, bent over and ready.

“Aren’t we an eager beaver? What should we use for lube?”

“Just…” Logan started, already getting impatient. “Just spit in your hand or something, I dont give a fuck. Just get over here and fuck me.”

“God, it’s like you just really get me,” the merc cooed, in utter awe of his partner.

“Now, Wade!” The Wolverine fussed one final time, giving his boyfriend a look of utter grouchiness.

Wade walked up behind Logan, took his aching dick into his hand and spit to give himself some sort of lubrication. He didn’t want to risk taking the time to stretch Logan out due to raising suspicion between their friends, but Logan had asked him before to skip the prep because the guy really didn’t mind the pain.

Slowly, Wade eased himself into Logan’s entrance and groaned at just how good it felt. Logan wasn’t being quiet either, a growl escaping his mouth, as Wade filled him up. It was a little painful, but nothing he couldnt handle, and truthfully, it felt really good anyway. Once the merc found a good rhythm, he gripped one hand around Logan’s neck and the other on his hip. Logan looked back at his lover, begging for a kiss, and Wade happily obliged.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” Wade mumbled as he lost himself in their love making. It was always like this for the two of them. Every time felt like the first time– exciting and fun and sexy as hell.

Just as Wade could feel himself about to climax, he heard the door to the bathroom push open.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK!” Negasonic Teenage Warhead screeched, immediately letting the door close behind them. Both men hurriedly pulled their clothes back on and tried to catch Ellie before she could get back to the rest of their friends.

“I thought you locked the damn door!” Logan hollered, feeling beyond embarrassed that they had been caught in the act, especially by a friend.

“There was a lock on that door?” Wade questioned back.

When they made it back to the party room, everyone had their heads turned to watch their embarrassing arrival. Both disheveled and out of breath, they stood there and waited for the other to say something.

There was a small silence and then…

“This party was my idea!”

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Living Sanctuary

Hemmer x fem!reader (can be read as romantic, however is more platonic with developing feelings) Words: 2.3K Summary: She never really learned anything about his home. Until one day she did Inspired by this post from @nichestartrekkie0-0 (If fanfics not your thing, just ignore this :)) so please chek out their art it's AMAZING

A drop of sweat ran down her forehead, down her temple, down her cheek and was wiped aside by her sleeve before it could fall to the floor.

Her arms felt heavy, but she didn't dare move them for fear that the objects in them would fall to the ground and shatter. Something she could not afford, after all, Hemmer needed these things. At least she was certain there was no harm in them.

The cooling system was offline and no matter how hard the engineers tried, it wasn't getting any better. In the end, it had turned out to be a fault in the system, which could be rectified by a simple reboot.

The problem: this reboot took several hours.

Hours in which the Enterprise had become uncomfortably warm, at least by her standards. She knew from Spock that he enjoyed the temperature and Uhura also had few problems with the change.

However, apart from the fact that everyone felt temperatures differently, she knew that there was one person who would not like it at all: Hemmer.

Based on what she had heard from some of the junior engineers, Hemmer was in an even worse mood than usual, and the temperature was so bad that M'Benga had sent him to his quarters to rest for fear that the Aenar would suffer heat exhaustion. Something that would be even more fatal for Hemmer's species than for her own. M'Benga had eventually interrupted her, lying panting on the sofa, and asked her to check on the Aenar. After all, they both knew how incredibly stubborn their friend could be.

She had agreed without hesitation. Hemmer might have his rough edges, some of them deadly sharp, but he had a heart of gold and she cared for him deeply.

He was a good friend on whom she had always been able to rely, so she would not let him down now. Even if he was still unaware of his luck.

With her elbow, she managed to press the button next to his door, alerting him that someone wanted to come in. For a few moments she stood in the corridor, people walking past her and looking at her strangely, wondering if he was even there. Perhaps he had thrown caution to the wind and gone back to work?

She immediately shook her head and dismissed the idea. Hemmer might be stubborn from time to time and not listen to advice, and when he did he did so reluctantly, but he was not self-destructive.

If Doctor M'Benga told him that the work posed a risk to his health, he would follow the doctor's instructions, grumpily, but he would do it.

Hemmer didn't give her much time to think about it. The doors opened and she quickly entered to avoid standing around stupidly in the corridor any longer. Inside it was only slightly less stiflingly hot than outside, but it wasn't any hotter either, which she saw as a plus.

She looked around searchingly, but couldn't spot the engineer. "Hemmer?" Carefully setting the items down on the sofa, she decided to take off her uniform jacket.

The top underneath would have to do, otherwise she would suffer from heat exhaustion. "Are you all right? Where are you?"

There was silence for a while and she began to wonder whether the door had opened by chance and he was actually somewhere else, but at that moment Hemmer's muffled voice rang out. "I'm fine."

She wheeled round to the bathroom where his voice had come from and only now did she realise the faint sound of falling water. Of course, she silently scolded herself. When the air was too hot, water was an excellent way to cool off.

With long strides, she walked to the door and stopped so that the opening sensor could not detect her. "May I come in?"

A grunt sounded and she frowned worriedly when an approving grumble came from Hemmer.

"M'Benga asked me to come round," she explained as she stepped into the bathroom. "Besides, I was worried about you, I mean, I'm almost dying in these temperatures, I can hardly imagine that it's pleasant for-" As soon as her gaze fell on Hemmer, she faltered and stopped, stunned by the sight before her.

Hemmer seemed to have noticed, as she fell silence surprised and huffed.

"I know I know, I look like a drowned beaver, or whatever you humans call it. But it's the only way to survive this heat."

She broke out of her stupor long enough to lift the corners of her mouth in slight amusement. "It's 'you look like a drowned rat'. And, that's not what caught me by surprise."

Even if this was of course partly to blame for her sudden hesitation, after all she had never seen her friend in such a position before. He sat on the floor of the shower, clever idea the tiles were also cold, and let the cool water run down his body. Consequently, his hair clung to his face in lengthy strands, while his antennae swayed in a dance-like manner, evading the droplets in a game known only to them. But as already mentioned, it wasn't that which had left her speechless.

It was the sight of Hemmer clad in nothing more than shorts, snugly embracing his well-defined muscles, stretching just halfway up his thighs, which intensified her warmth.

This alone would have been enough to induce a blush, but something else caught her off guard. The tattoos.

Dark blue, almost black, tattoos meandered in wavy patterns across his physique, from his chest to his shoulders to his arms, down to his legs and, she surmised, down to his back. They reminded her somewhat of the traditional tattoos of the Maori or the Polynesians, indigenous peoples of Earth, but at the same time they looked completely different, like two worlds at opposite ends of the galaxy.

Hemmer cleared his throat, apparently waiting for an answer, and she squatted down in front of him to be at eye level with him. It may not have done him much good, but she felt more comfortable not having to stare down at him. "Don't take offence, but I didn't expect to find my best friend naked in his shower."

"I'm not naked," he grumbled and she grinned slightly as he tugged at his trousers like a grumpy child. "Besides, I didn't realise you had tattoos." His antennae went up for a moment before returning to their dance and Hemmer frowned. "No? I thought you knew." She laughed softly as she watched drops of water drip down his cheekbones. "How was I supposed to know? It's not like you're regularly parading around half-naked in front of me."

"Do I hear disappointment?" His voice and his grin were provocative, teasing and elicited a laugh from her. "Definitely not." Still, she couldn't ignore the tingling in her stomach, even if she tried her best.

They were silent for a few moments before Hemmer sighed and gestured for her to come closer. "I can feel the heat radiating off you. What's the point of you falling over on me here?" He did his best to sound disinterested, but she knew him well enough to know that he was genuinely worried about her.

She hesitated for a moment, but decided that modesty really wasn't appropriate at this point, and kicked off her trousers and socks so that she was squatting in front of him in her top and panties. No problem, she thought to herself and shifted her weight onto her knees.

She crawled over to him and let out a low cry of shock as the cold water hit her heated skin. It felt like tiny needles were piercing her skin and she pulled back, however Hemmer didn't seem to let that happen.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him with such force that she bounced against him and only prevented him from headbutting her by resting her hands on his chest. Not that she would have done anything to him.

She would have been the one with the concussion.

The cold water beat down on her mercilessly. She squealed and wriggled on Hemmer's lap, only realising later that she had landed there, but he didn't allow her to escape.

"You're burning up," he murmured and pulled her a little closer to him so that her hot skin was pressed against his pleasantly cool skin. "So stop squirming or I'll tie you up."

"Kinky," she murmured as her body seemed to slowly acclimatise to the difference in temperature. "Keep it down," came the reply and she grinned softly, slowly relaxing. The water felt good.

Gradually, she felt the feeling of stifling warmth disappear and her glowing skin lowered to temperatures that seemed more bearable, judging by the fact that Hemmer was now relaxing beneath her as well, even leaning into her touch.

"Aren't I too warm for you?" He just shook his head before leaning it against the tiled wall behind him, a slight smile on his face. "It's acceptable. Besides, I know my skin is cool enough to give you relief." She snorted at his posturing, but made no move to free herself from her place on his lap.

"Actually, I came to help you with that." He chuckled softly. It was a sound that came from deep in his chest, where she was still resting her hands, deep and real, and she felt warmth spreading through her again, but this time a different kind of warmth.

"I'm used to getting used to this kind of heat. Have you ever been to California? It was just as bad." She nodded, giving in to exhaustion after a while and leaning her head against his shoulder. "You are indeed nice and cool."

Her hands wandered from his chest to his arms when something struck her and made her lift her head. "Wait, are your tattoos prominent?"

Her fingers danced over the patterns of his tattoos, eliciting a shudder from him that she didn't realise, and sure enough, she could tell that the tattoos weren't just ink poked under the skin, but actually stood out with slight bulges.

They were barely noticeable unless you were sitting half-naked on top of each other, though she guessed it was a lot easier for the heightened senses of the Aenar to detect.

"It would be strange any other way," Hemmer returned with amusement, placing a hand on hers and running it along his collarbone. "Considering we Aenar are blind." Heat rose to her face. She had actually forgotten for a moment that Hemmer himself was blind.

" They're beautiful," she murmured softly, fascinated as she continued to run her fingers tentatively over the patterns of his skin. "You are beautiful." Hemmer left it uncommented, but closed his eyes and his antennae followed her movements.

"Do they mean anything?" He nodded slightly and guided her hand to his upper right arm, where a ring wrapped around his bicep. "Every male Aenar gets a tattoo like this when he comes of age. It's a symbol that we're old enough to serve our people and contribute."

Next, he went to some lines that snaked down his neck to his shoulder blades. To reach them, she had to lean so close to him that his hot breath brushed her face. "These lines symbolise my connection to my family. Can you feel the corners where they end?" She breathed in agreement. "Each of those corners represents a member of my family." There were five in total.

Next, their hands travelled together to his thighs. "These tattoos symbolise the balance of our society, our harmony with nature. The Aenar must live in tune with their environment and learn to live with it to prevent the deadly cold from overtaking them. They humble us, in a good way, and remind us of our place in this world, this universe."

Finally, Hemmer brought her hand to his chest, where the lines formed an intricate pattern that she could not describe in words. "These represent my devotion to healing, to repairing. They are not mandatory among the Aenar, but this pattern represents our pacifist representations. They visualise my duty, my morals, my life."

He did not guide her hand further, but did not release it, so that her hands, covered by his, rested on his chest. Her gaze fell on his left forearm, which was the only part of his body, with the exception of his face, that was completely free.

"And what about here? Is there a reason why there are no tattoos here? Or is it some kind of cultural ban on having them there?" Hemmer shook his head, chuckling softly, and carefully clasped his hands with hers, causing her breath to hitch.

"It's not a cultural taboo to have tattoos there, quite the opposite. The tattoos there represent the family you have established. After the wedding, a band of blue colour is applied below the elbow, decorated with small ornaments. For each child born from this marriage, another band is added."

Fascinated, she looked at his arm and, releasing her left hand from his, ran it over his skin, where a marriage bond would probably be visible in the future. "And what if you get divorced? Are these tattoos reversible?"

 "No." Hemmer took her hand in his again and traced invisible patterns on the back of her hand. "However, divorces are very, very rare for us. We choose our partners with great care, nothing less than perfect comes into question."

She slowly raised her eyes and released her hands to continue tracing the patterns on his skin. "So, has anyone caught your eye yet?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips and he carefully lifted his hand to brush a wet strand of hair that was stuck to her face behind her ear, where it remained against her cheek.  "Maybe."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1

@akamitrani

@moonlightshaiku

@indignantlemur

[mintymarabell]

Idk if you do male x male, but if you’re comfy doing it maybe some angst with a male yautja worrying his ass off because he can’t get in contact with his male mate? Only to later find out from someone else shortly after your return from a battlefield that you’re a soldier or smn? Like maybe the reader now has a mechanical arm and pretty nasty injuries and scars and the yautja is angry because the reader never told him about his occupation being this dangerous and that he was sent to war in the first place😭😭

I’m sorry for the spam i’m just filled w so many ideas💀🙏

A/n: Currently writing this at 3am. I feel like I messed this one up somehow.

He was in the middle of space, worried sick for his ooman. You hadn’t answered your phone in who knows how long, time flies by the minute on earth.. This was so unlike you, to not answer. It’s not like he could leave, he was supervising some youngbloods chiva. He was at least a week of traveling away from you, not to mention he’d most likely have to attend a ceremony after this.

He gripped the chair he sat in, the arm threatening to break. What if something had happened? What if you needed him? What if you found someone else? Attention was brought onto him when the chair's arm finally snapped off, he dropped the piece and stood. He walked to one of the elites, a close friend that he could almost call his son, he pulled him aside.

“I need you to do something for me. I have a mate back on earth, I want you to check on them.” The youngest nodded, and made his way toward the bay doors where ships were in case of an emergency. To him this was an emergency, he needed to know you weren’t just a pile of bones.

He had great patience, or at least he thought he did. The wait was agonizing, all he could do was watch the young bloods celebrate. When the elite had returned he had almost shoved the yautja down when he had pushed him into the hallway. “Tell me.”

“It appears they are in some kind of war, fighting other oomans with weapons and artillery.” After the elite had said that he almost died right then and there. “Are they alright? Are they hurt?” He leaned in grabbing the elite by his arms. “They are fine, or at least from what I could tell. I was unable to get close without being noticed. I took a ship that had some broken landing gear.” He scratched him as the elder stepped back.

Wouldn’t you have told him if there was a war? The elder walked off, most likely back to his quarters while he waited for the ship to land back on prime.

Upon landing he practically shoved everyone out the way, taking long strides toward his own ship. He powered it up and took off, he was going to earth. He needed to see you.

When he arrived at your home it was barren. It had been a while since anyone had been here. He’d sit on your couch and wait, watching the door. He’d leave after a while but would always come back.

That was until one day while he was sitting in walked none other than his mate. As soon as you shut the door you were tackled into a hug, “why didn’t you tell me?” He brought you out and held you at arms length, looking you over. “I was going to but my first day I broke my phone, it got smashed while traveling. I’m sorry.” You cupped the side of his face as he processed your words as he set you down.

He said nothing as you stripped off your uniform jacket, throwing it onto the couch. As you unlaced your combat boots he couldn’t help but notice a metal shine from under your pant leg, he kneeled down and pulled the boot off to examine your now metal leg. “What happened?”

“Landmine. They had to cut it off.” He nodded and pulled your pants off along with your shirt, to examine the rest of your body. Your body had occasional scars, some worse than others, your lower back was covered in a bandage most likely another scar awaiting to form. He leaned his hand against your toner chest, “You could have died. Please next time don’t scare me so badly.” He rubbed at your side, feeling for your heartbeat that laid just beneath your rib cage.

That night after he had gotten you ready for bed, he laid next to you.

Half of his legs dangled off the edge but he didn’t care, he was much more focused on curling himself into your side to lay his head on your shoulder. From that day forward you would always catch him staring at you, on top of that he has taken you from earth, insisting you stay on his home planet to which you obliged at the idea.

He had become more protective, possessive even. If you had went anywhere he’d wanna know then and there, but that’s okay, he just loves you and doesn’t want anything to happen like for instance you running off to war.

[callsign-cacti]

What's the Consensus

Pairing: Finnegan x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Period Sex

Summary: “Finn, seriously, now is not the time!” You hiss.

“I beg to differ sweetheart! Don’t you know that orgasms can help cramps.” He grins, tucking his head into your neck and dropping a kiss to the corner of your jaw.

Notes: This is a repost because my old blog (winterrebel04) I deleted on accident while trying to delete another account. Yes, this is the worst day of my life. Anyways, I'm tagging everyone who I tagged last time because the way that I crave validation from y'all is borderline unhealthy and they are some of the best writers on here... anyways...

Taglist: @sebsxphia @lorecraft @veritable-trash @callsignspark @callsignvalley @topguncortez

-

He had spotted you as soon as he turned the corner, hustling away from the rest of the team so that he could talk to you without their stupid comments in his ear.

“There she is!”

 He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at the sound of his voice, hunching your shoulders inwards as if making yourself smaller would make him miss you. It didn’t, and you refused to look at him as he leaned on the shelf next to you. Eyes forward, focused on the item in front of you.

“Go away Finn!” You spat.

“C’mon sweetheart, why you gotta do me like that. First you ditched me last night, and now this. You could really hurt a man’s ego like that!”

“Mm, I think your ego could use some bruising Finnegan.” Reaching out for a bottle on the shelf, Finn moved quickly, snatching it up before you could.

“Painkillers huh, you go out and party with someone else last night doll?” He asked, angling his body more towards you as you reached to grab another bottle from the shelf, before turning on your heel and walking away.

He was quick to push himself off the wall, following you. “I’m just going to take your silence as a yes. Y’know, I looked for you last night, after the game.”

“Well, I was busy.” You spat, not slowing your stride as you turned onto another isle.

“Doing what!”

“Homework, if you must now. Sorry I wasn’t around for you to stick your dick in, but I’m sure you made a groupie very happy last night, so I’m sure it wasn’t a total bust.”

“Well, she was actually easier to get into bed then you were.” He joked, once again taking a step towards you only for you to step back from him again.

“Cool, I really don’t care though Finn.” You said it calmly, no underlying anger in your voice that surely would have been there if you were any other girl. The two of you had struck up a friends with benefits type sitch at the beginning of the year, and it was some of the best sex Finn had ever had. It didn’t hurt that you were smart as a whip, someone who could understand the rants that Finn would start, and be an active participant in them. Lately though, as baseball had started and school had gotten busier, the two of you had been more friends then benefits, and it was barely even friends as the two of you saw so little of the other.

But Finn did a double take at the statement anyways. You weren’t clingy, you didn’t care that he had been sleeping with other people. But normally, when he made jokes like that, you had some sort of snappy comeback about not being so easy, never missing a chance to make fun of him. So he took a second to really look at you. The arm not holding the basket was wrapped around your stomach, dark circles under your eyes, and your shoulders were hunched over. You didn’t look like you were hungover, you looked like you were in pain.

“Ok, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sweetheart, there are a thousand ways in which you could have just called me a slut, manwhore, etcetera, and you didn’t. Something is clearly wrong here!”

You turned to glare at him. “Nothing is wrong, I’m fine!”

“Hah!” He shouts, that stupid smile spreading over his face. “When girls say it’s fine, that means somethings wrong. And you know, you guys really shouldn’t…”

“Oh my god Finn, fine, I’m on my period and in extreme pain. Now can you please leave me alone so I can go buy some goddamned tampons and go home!” You whisper shouted, eyes burning with anger and shiny with pain.

“Oh, well why didn’t you just say that. A period is a perfectly justifiable reason to be grumpy!” He raised his hands in the air, taking a step back as you whipped your head around.

“I am not grumpy. I am in pain, and you aren’t helping!” You hissed, stomping into the next aisle.

Finn could do nothing but follow, having missed the banter with you a little more then he cared to admit. But by the time he turned the corner, you already had what you needed, and were moving to the checkout line where all of his friends stood.

Oh, he was going to get so much shit for what he was about to do.

Their backs were to the two of you, looking at one of the trashy magazines on display, and he was quiet as he sidled up next to you, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

The cashier told you the amount owed, and Finn was right there, handing the bills over and grabbing your bags, hoping that the magazine would hold their attention for a few more seconds.

You however, weren’t on the same page, whirling around to glare at him.

“What are you doing? I’m perfectly capable of buying my own tampons!”

And he didn’t even have to look to know that every single one of the guys would have whipped their heads around to see what was going on. And the smirk painted on your face told him that you knew it too.

“Well, have fun with that Finny!”And then you were gone and the rest of them crowding around him.

“Wasn’t that?” Roper started, staring at you ask you pushed open the door.

“Yep!” Dale said, nodding at Roper. “I cannot believe you just bought her fucking tampons bro! And Finny!”

“’Scuse me more being a gentleman. And don’t even with the name thing. What did that one girl from freshman year call you? Would you like to bring that back up?” He defended himself, reaching for three of the snickers bars and handing them to the cashier as Ropers face went pale.

“Hey, at least we know she ain’t pregnant now!” Coma chuckles, Roper staring daggers at him.

“Fuck off Coma!”

“But, that’s so… gross!” Plummer shutters, ignoring the other comments about Roper.

Dale groans, smacking Plumber in the stomach. “Oh, you’ve done it now!” He had been on the receiving ends of Finns rants about periods one to many times, and knew exactly what was about to happen.

“I’ll have you know!” Finn starts, and Dale groans, wishing he would have just stayed at the house

Ten minutes later, there is a traumatized Plummer left behind as Finn makes a beeline for your place.

-

“I come in peace, and with offerings!” He says before you can protest, handing you the chocolate and squeezing inside your room. A movie is playing on the tv, and you had changed into shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Finn somehow managed to hold back the comment about you having clearly ditched your bra.

“Finn, I’m really tired, and I’m on my period, as we established already, not today, okay?” But he ignores you, throwing himself down onto your bed, patting the space next to him.

“Is this Diehard?” You nod, eyes narrowed at him as you slowly move over to the bed, tugging the heating pad out from under him. “You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” He smiles and shakes his head, once again patting the bed.

“My friend is in pain. It would be rude of me to let her suffer alone!” He protests, hand darting out to grab your wrist, pulling you down onto the bed.

He can practically see you debating on whether it’s worth it to fight to get him to leave. You glance down at the candy bars, before looking at him, then the tv and the bed again, before sighing and peeling open the candy bar.

“Fine. You can stay, but you can’t be annoying!” He just chuckles, taking the victory and not willing to risk your wrath with a response. After a few minutes, you have finished the candy bar, but have made no move to lie down.

He moves quickly so you don’t have time to dodge him, scooting forward and wrap his hands around your waist so he can pull you down onto the bed, your back to his chest. Then he grabs the heating pad, bringing it to rest against your stomach.

“Uhh…” But he hushes you.

“Just watch the movie!” He gestures towards the television, even though you can’t see him doing it.

And then its quiet for a minute, the two of you watching the movie before he speaks up. “Do they hurt?”

“I thought we were watching the movie!” You snark, shifting against him to find a more comfortable position.

He sucks in a breath when your ass brushes against his crotch, but then you’re settling again, hand gesturing to the bag on your desk. “I took some meds, they helped a little.”

“Good.” He nods as the two of you turn your attention back to the movie.

He decides its nice, being here with you. He can’t quite remember if this is what he had come over with the intention of doing, he doesn’t think that it was. But when he looks down at you, only to find you asleep against his chest, he isn’t mad as he follows you into dreamland.

-

The first thing he notices is that he’s warm. Not the hot kind of warm, but the I want to stay under the covers and in bed forever because I’m so damn comfy kind of warm.

The second thing he notices is that you’re grinding against him. A quick glance down confirms that your still asleep.

The third thing, he is painfully hard.

Then he hears a whimper. And being as intimately familiar with your sounds as he is, he realizes that your aren’t grinding on him, your shifting to try and find a more comfortable position, because you are in pain.

Sitting halfway up, you slide off of his chest, and he misses the warmth as he wakes you up.

“Hey sweetheart, you remember what time you took the meds?”

“Two!” You whine, shifting again and brushing up against his dick. He tries to scoot backwards to give the both of you more room, only to find the wall behind him.

“Still got a few more hours than before you can take another one.” And the whine you let out at that takes him from a semi to rock hard in seconds.

He shouldn’t be like this, not when your clearly in a lot of pain. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and then it hits him.

He tightens his grip on your waist and pulls you back towards him. He knows the second that you realize, as you tense up, immediately stopping all movement.

“Finn, seriously, now is not the time!” You hiss.

“I beg to differ sweetheart! Don’t you know that orgasms can help cramps.” He grins, tucking his head into your neck and dropping a kiss to the corner of your jaw.

“Don’t you fucking tease me right now Finn!” You hiss, turning around so that you can face him. As you meet his eyes, you realize that he isn’t joking, and that his offer was serious.

“You got any towels honey, cause I’m not real keen on fucking you in the shower. Those things are gross!” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You stay silent, still not quite comprehending that he is being serious. At this, Finn pulls back, eyes meeting yours.

“But we totally don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just thought I’d offer!”

You shake your head, finally getting with the program, and push yourself out of bed. Behind you, Finns face falls as you move to the dresser before you pull out a towel, ignoring the pain that comes with standing up.

Elation fills him as you pull out a towel, only for him to pout as you begin moving towards the door.

“Don’t fucking look at me like the Finnegan!” You snark as you throw the towel at him. “I’m coming back, just gotta take my tampon out!” And then the door slams shut, leaving Finn scrambling off the bed to get it set up.

You aren’t gone for long, and when you open the door, you can’t help but laugh when you find Finn completely naked on your bed, towels spread out underneath him. The moment is killed when a cramp pulses, and you wince.

“Get over here!” He says, once again patting the bed. “Nothing a good ole Finnegasm can’t fix.”

“I know that you didn’t just say…” But he cuts you off, tugging you down onto the bed and rolling so that he’s on top, bringing his lips to yours.

He takes it slow, letting you set the pace until he feels that you’ve grown more comfortable with the idea of what the two of you are about to do.

This is new territory for Finn. He had read about it, done his research, as he always does, but had never had a chance to put the knowledge to the test. And he figures it can’t be any different from regular sex in general.

He was wrong.

You were more sensitive. Shivering as he ran his hands up and down your sides, arching into his palms when he went to cup your breasts, damn near coming out of your skin when he closed his mouth around your nipple.

When he pushed his knee in between your legs, you were immediately moving, grinding yourself onto his thigh while panting into his mouth.

But the second his hand swept lower, playing with the band of your shorts, you froze up. He looked up at you, pleased to find that he could barely see the color of your eyes, only the black of your pupil.

“What’s wrong?” His hands began sweeping motions up and down your side, only meant to comfort, but you melted back into him anyways, placing your head on his neck as you mumbled out your answer.

“What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you” He teased, gently tugging your hair to get you to look back up at him. Instead, you bit down on his neck, moaning as his fingers hair tightened in your hair. He smirked, pulling it again, your body jolting up into his and your pussy rubbing against his thigh.

But he refused to be distracted by your pretty sounds, shifting his leg and moving so that he was hovering and not touching you at all.

“What was wrong? Did I do something?” He asked, ducking his head down to meet your eyes and holding the eye contact.

“I just, you’ll get blood on your hands if you…” You trailed off, eyes darting around his face, looking anywhere but back in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, you’re on your period. I know that there’s gonna be blood.”

She scoffed. “I know there will be blood, I just kinda figured we’d, I don’t know, mess around a little bit and you’d just, stick it in.”

He laughed, “stick it in, really?” She slapped his chest, face still serious, and he sobered.

“Baby, first of all, I don’t mind the blood. I knew what I was getting into when I suggested this, but if you don’t want to do it, we can put on another movie and that’s fine. But if you still want to do this, because I genuinely think that this will help, then I need to get you ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you anymore then you are already hurting!” He said, sliding his fingers under her chin so that she was looking at him.

Her eyes were shiny with tears as she looked back at him.

“Do you understand?” She nodded, fingers coming up to trace the hand that was still on her chin.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” You shifted again, although Finn thought this time it was more from pain then from pleasure, before nodding.

“I want you to fuck me Finn. Please!” He smiled, ducking back down to kiss her. He had a million comebacks on the tip of his tounge, but bit them back. He could recognize what a momentous thing this was, how much trust you were putting in him to allow him to do this with you.

But he couldn’t resist one last joke. “Well since you asked so nicely…” And then you were dragging his mouth down to yours, fingers tangling his his hair and tongue asking for entry.

The sounds you were making under him, all soft whimpers and breathy moans as the two of you grinded together had him painfully hard and desperate to finally be inside of you again.

When he sat up, you whined, hands clawing down his back in an effort to get him back to you.

“Shh pretty girl, m’right here!” His hands undoing the button on his shorts and throwing them somewhere into the room. His shirt was long gone, having been tossed in order to give you more access to him.

Once all of his clothes were gone, he paused, looking down at you. Gently, he slid his hands around you, sitting you up and sliding your shirt up and over your head, his hands leaving goosebumps in the places that he grazed. But he paused at your shorts, meeting your eyes with a question in his own.

You were silent for a second, before taking his hands and bringing them to the band of your shorts, lifting your hips so that he could slide them off of you.

“There you are pretty girl!” He praised as he gently pushed you back down, hovering on one arm over you as the other swept down to gently cup your pussy.

“God sweetheart, so fucking wet for me!” His fingers already slick as he traced gentle circles around your clit that had you arching up off of the bed. “So fucking sensitive tonight!” He teased as you whined his name.

“Finn, come on, stop teasing me and…” And then he slid a finger in, cutting you off.

“S’not teasing. Gotta get you ready for me. Want you nice and fucked out before I slide in. I want you feeling me, and only me, ‘kay pretty girl!” He had slipped another finger in during his little speech, grinning when you nodded and started to move your hips so that you were riding his hand.

“Can I…”

“’nother one, please Finn!” You both spoke at the same time. And who was he to deny you anything. Slipping the third finger inside, his other hand coming up to rub at your clit, you shattered, clenching down on his fingers, chest arched into his own. He fucked you through it, sliding his hand out and wiping it on the towel as soon as you had calmed down a little. It was an attempt to try and save you from the embarrassment he knew you would feel when you saw the mixture of blood and cum coating his hand.

He couldn’t have cared less about it, not when it had you so pretty beneath him like this.

You were smiling as you opened your eyes, reaching to place a kiss on his lips.

“How you feeling pretty girl?”

“Real good.” And then you were reaching out to palm him before wrapping your hand completely around him. His hips jerked into your hand, and you smile turned into a smirk as you nudged his nose with yours.

“I’d feel even better if you fucked me right now. Bet you would…”

“Don’t even have to ask sweetheart!” And he was batting your hand away to replace it with his own. Rolling the condom that he had grabbed when you were in the bathroom onto himself before he was sliding into you.

And slide he did, the mixture of cum and blood gave him no resistance, bottoming out in seconds. He stilled, trying to stave off him impending orgasm, only to have you clench around him.

“Finn!”

“You, you feel really good sweetheart!” Then with one last deep breath he was moving, one hand drawing your lips back to his own as the other palmed at your breasts.

Your nails raked down his back as he hit your spot, your hips moving with his.

The two of you had always been good together, but this, this was something else.

“Finn, I’m…” You stuttered as he hit his stride, arching up into him.

“Mm, come for me!” His thumb circling around your clit.

And you did, clenching down around him as you bit down hard on his neck. He wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering as he worked the two of you through your releases.

He collapsed down onto your chest, your hand coming up to rake through his hair.

After the two of you had caught your breath, he tilted his head, smiling up at you from his place on your chest.

“So, what’s the consensus. Do orgasms help with the cramps?”

[comfy-whumpee]

Jane: Interlude

Whumptober 21 - found family. CN: BBU, missing person search.

-

It took far, far too long for her to realise. She needed to do a head count every morning. She needed to keep better track of who was in the house. She should have known immediately if someone had gone. She should have their trust enough that they wouldn’t disappear in the night. She should know them well enough to know where and why they had disappeared.

She should never have given up on Boo.

The thoughts crowded in a vicious cycle in her head as she drove into town with Tenten in the passenger seat. He’d insisted on coming even though she’d rather face her abject failure alone. He was probably the only one she’d bring. He could go out alone, and talk to strangers on an even footing. He could ask around while she scouted further afield and made calls. Mrs Kaur was coming up to help, as was Neeta, who thankfully had a day off. Nobody else was able to come. Nobody else could help her, and she couldn’t know whether Boo had left on purpose, so filing a police report was useless.

It was all her fault. She had brought Jane back. She had disrupted the house. She had thrown something new into the mix. She hadn’t asked. She hadn’t checked with them. She had assumed everything was fine and gone to bed happy that she’d helped someone.

It’s all my fault, she imagines telling Dr Cerasale when she sees him next, for her fucking counselling that she got for her fucking broken family. Well, look at her now. She’s broken another one.

You were responsible for them, Dr Cerasale says back, in her head. He wouldn’t say it in real life but she’d fucking deserve it if he did. Just like you were responsible for your son.

Tenten is silent. He probably understands what happened. She’s let him down, as well. He’ll feel less safe at the shelter now, because of her.

“Let me know if you want to go back,” she tells him as they park. “Call me if you want to, for any reason.”

She’s given him a phone. He’s tucked it into his jacket, and merely nods at her. She doesn’t know how he isn’t terrified, but she’s glad he’s not. Maybe he’ll break down later. She’ll probably miss that, too.

She’s been in Boo’s room and confirmed all their things were left behind. It’s proof that they were driven to leave. This wasn’t planned.

Maybe they know Jane. Maybe she reminds them of someone. Maybe they thought she would take their place. She doesn’t know. She knows so little about them, and she’s been so complacent.

The sun stings her eyes. As soon as she went up to get them for breakfast and found their room empty, she’s been on the move. She searched the house. She searched the garden. She ran through the lanes near the house, imagining them passed out, injured, dead in the hedges. She covered miles through sheer panic. She told Roman, who went white as a sheet and locked himself in his room. She told Kamala, who burst into tears for less than a minute and then forced herself to be calm. She didn’t have time to deal with either of them.

She told Tenten, and it took Tenten telling her for her to think about asking in town.

So now she’s striding through the streets with their one picture of Boo, taken for their passport and never since used. Their passport, that’s still in her bureau in the front room, where they could have taken it but didn’t. She shoves their bland little photo in front of everyone she goes past. She sees the distaste in their eyes at her unkempt desperation. “Have you seen them? Have you seen them, please? Please look out for them. Please, have you seen them?”

Tenten is on the other side of the road. He is the picture of calm. He shows the photo in front of him as he walks. “Has anyone seen my friend? Can anyone help me?” he asks. People shake their head at him, apologise, and wish him luck. From Avis, they turn away with averted eyes.

She can’t do this again. She can’t think straight. Her heart won’t slow down. She can’t lose another. She can’t take this. She can’t.

“Please, they’re vulnerable,” she begs parents and children alike, the former shielding the latter from her raw despair. “I just want to make sure they’re safe. Please.”

She’s not speaking to the people in front of her. She’s pleading with the world. Just let them be safe. Let them be okay. God, she has a brand new Romantic rescue back at the shelter with nobody better than Kamala to keep an eye on her. She’s so fucking reckless for thinking she could do this alone.

She needs Mrs Kaur to get to the house and look after them. She needs Neeta on the streets with the flyers she said she’d make. She needs help. She needs her family back.

“Have you seen them? Please look, please, they’re vulnerable…”

Everybody shakes their head.

[twistedwonderworm]

HELLO! I noticed ur matchups are still open! I was wondering if I could put myself forward!

(1) Miya! (She/her)

(2) I’m a little bit of an introvert but a massive extrovert when with close friends, I’m a hopeless romantic too! I love going on walks in the rain or foggy weather just to be alone sometimes! I also sleep a lot- I used to get mad at everything really easily but now I try and calm myself down before going further in a situation like that! I usually tend to care more about other peoples well being than my own because I feel it’s not as important as keeping other safe! I’m around 5’3 people often are quick to judge me based off my height when I could probably beat them up if I had the chance- idk if this counts but my love language is physical affection!

(3) I usually dislike it when some is just flat out rude towards someone for no reason! And I especially don’t like it when people pry into other’s social or at home life and judge them based off that rather than as a person! Oh and I really hate people who think they’re SO much better than everyone just because they’re popular or something! It really gets on my nerves

(4) Hmm out of everyone I’d probably say Rook and Crowley! Idk they just kinda pisses me off ^^

(5) Nope I wouldn’t mind!

Thanks ♥️

Sorry that this is so late. I've been very busy, but I hope you like this match up!!

I'm matching you up withhhhh

The forest Fae, Trey Clover!!!!

I think Trey would be the perfect match for you. Though like you, he has a tendency to care for others rather than himself, but that just means that you can both help take care of each other. I can totally see him making you a little snack or something when you wake up too. And as a forest fae, rain doesn't bother him as much as someone else from his dorm (looking at you fire elemental Riddle).

Also Trey is not strictly an introvert or an extrovert. He's very good with people and willing to hang around those that he's close too, but sometimes he still needs to take a step back to help deal with the stress he has to face as a vice housewarden and as pretty much the mom of the dorm. He also doesn't get angry very easily and is rather good at calming people down.

♣️♣️♣️♣️♣️

"I'm very happy you invited me out tonight," Trey said, a small smile gracing his face as he walked alongside Miya. He enjoyed hanging out with her, and today was a practically stressfully day. Ace had crashed into the dorm building while trying to show off again, breaking his wings once again. Trey swords he'd be a master healer by the time he graduates due to how many times he had to heal Ace's wings.

"I'm happy you agreed to come out," Miya answered holding the umbrella carefully. It was raining tonight and it seemed no one else wanted to get caught in it so they were the only ones wandering about. It was very peaceful. Trey was keeping his stride slow. With his long, deer like legs, he normally walked very fast, but he wanted to make sure she would easily keep up with him.

"It's very relaxing to walk with someone you care about," Trey said softly, droplets of water hanging off of his antlers.

"You care about me?" The human asked, caught off guard by his statement. The fae just laughed and took her friend hand, a gentleness in his golden eyes.

"I thought that much was obvious."

[highstwildflower]

Conceiving lover

Summery: Angsty, You find out that Ashton has a dating profil.

Paring: Ashton Irwin x Reader

Warnings: Angsty, mature language?

A/N: Its been a while since I've written anything, and honestly I feel like this isn't my best but it is the best I can do atm, and I really wanna get back into the swing of things soooo lets go. And Thaaaank you to the people who continue to ask for prompts and read my fics xx

A gasp left your lips as your world stopped. After hours of scrolling through TikTok, you came across a video you wished you had never seen. A young woman showing how she stumbled across Ashtons bumble profil, surely it must have been fake. The investigation started, you followed the link to part 2, and your heart dropped into your stomach. The video showed his profil in detail, somehow you just knew it was his, the profil screamed Ashton. Your boyfriend, the part of him that was only for you, was now blasted on the internet for everyone to see, because he actively was trying to cheat on you. So nonchalant as if he couldn't care less if you found out. 

Chock filled your body, not only had you lost your boyfriend in that second, you were mortified about the whole world witnessing it. Rushing you ran to your bathroom before emptying the content of your stomach into the toilet. And then you broke, the physical release was the emotional tricker you needed, this was real and it was happening to you. You were not the only one. Surely you should've known, it was well known in Hollywood, Ashton Irwin never broke up with a girl, he moved on while she believed they were still committed to one another, and you really thought that he had changed, how stupid. As if you were ever gonna be enough for the handsome drummer. 

The cold tile against your naked thigh was starting to hurt so you rose to your feet, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn't know if it was your bloodshot eyes that looked back at you, or if it was the trails of tears or maybe the puffiness but it was  something about seeing yourself like this. Broken into a thousand peaces, after so carelessly being tossed to the side by the man who said he loved you that made you snap. Straighten up, you looked deeply into your own eyes "Fuck him". With long determined strides you crossed the distance between the bathroom and the draw Ashton had at your house, you hurled the content into a nearby shopping bag. He was expected at your home within the next couple of hours but all that was gonna meet him was the brown bag holding everything that ever tied you together. It was done, and he was the one to blame. 

With the new determination rushing through your body you started getting ready, the shower lead the embarrassment down the drain, it was embarrassing to him not you, you told yourself again and again. Once you looked like the bosslady you are you went to instagram, both his and your page was filled with lovey dovey photos entangled in each other, you deleted every single one before posting a new one with the caption "You did a wonderful job convincing people that you love me, I almost fell for it". Keeping your head held high you placed the bag in front of the door before heading to your friends house, you knew she would understand this better than anyone else. 

By the time you parked before Kay's house your phone was glowing with the many notifications, though the 5sos fandom forever would be loyal to Ashton, they were cheering you on and dragging the drummer bad choices in the comment section. You smiled slightly at least they were on your side, which wasn't a given at all. As you took a short look at the comments and liked a few your phone started to vibrate with an incoming call, you took a deep breath before denying it. You turned off your phone and walked to knock on Kays door. Shortly after the door swung open revealing a Kay who's smile faded the second she saw you "Oh honey im so sorry", she knew already, the glee of the internet everything travels faster than you. Kay did her best to comfort you, she hugged you tight an hour after you had sobbed into her embrace and rubbed your shoulder. The tears had dried and you looked at her with a smile "You know, this just show how much of a better person than me you are" she shot you a confused look "How come y/n" looking straight at her you laughed at her cluelessness "Because you haven't  once said- I told you so, and I definitely  would've done that if you had dated my cheating ex". And it truly was the thing you admired the most about Kay, she was like a fairy who always just wanted the best for anyone, she was even the one setting you and Ashton up. "I don't need to do that hun, im sure you beating yourself up enough for the both of us". And she was right but you were trying not to. 

You agreed that it would be best for you to talk to Ash while she was at you side for emotional support, so hesitantly you turned on your phone again. It was unusable the first few seconds due to the amount of missed phone calls and messages, all Ash trying to make you speak to him, so you pressed his contact and waited shortly before he breathed out your name with relief. "Please, babe let us meet up so we can talk?" Kay made big eyes and shook her head no "No Ashton, I don't want to meet with you. I know that you have been dating others, and I don't really care if you never met them or not. You still were out there  trying " your voice was trembling and the pit in your stomach had returned, Kay rubbed her hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner and you send her a thankful smile shortly. Ashton's voice revealed that he was just as big of a mess as you "No please y/n, I was only on there to meet new people, I've felt so discounted to the world after Corona. I know its wrong, I really do but please love, it was nothing like what we have" You lost it, that was it. He wanted to make excuses? Fuck him "You know what Ashton, im sure you have, being surrounded by people who does nothing but support you must be so hard, im sorry that I didn't think about that." And with that the phone call ended and you lunged yourself into Kays waiting embrace. The world could stop for all you cared, you had lost the one person you thought would be your forever. 

[bionic-togruta]

"And I Pray that Our Stars Aren't Crossed" Ch. 11

Masterlist 

Star Wars Masterlist 

Lab Rats/Mighty Med/Elite Force Masterlist  

___________________

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Clone Wars; Lab Rats: Elite Force

Pairings: Ahsoka Tano x Chase Davenport

___________________

Chapter 11

Maybe it isn’t a complete disaster. Though Chase never revoked what he said, he seems calmer, in control, and still behaves with the authority he held before. 

“I’m sorry, Skylar. But no meeting up with superheroes. We never know who’s watching, and we can’t take the risk of exposing their true identity.”

“But Crossbow’s in danger,” Skylar argues.

“Every hero is in danger. That’s why using the network is the safest option. We can get the word out to everyone at once, and then confirm when they receive it.”

“Okay, I guess then I won’t get to see my friend.” She turns to the bionic girl beside her. “But at least I still have you, right Bree?”

“Not even close,” is Bree’s response as she exits the room. 

Skylar follows, while Oliver and Kaz leave through the hyper lift. 

Ahsoka stands, walks over to Chase who’s started working on something else on the cyber desk. “Look, I shouldn’t have blown up at you yesterday…”

“No,” Chase cuts her off. “You were completely right. I let my emotions override my judgment and you made me realize that. I should have talked to you before making that decision, and that was my mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Just…don’t shut me out again, okay? We need to trust each other if we’re going to get through this.”

He nods, “I know.”

_____________________

When they accessed the encrypted superhero network, she never expected it would lead to someone contacting her. 

She stares at the message. She doesn’t bother trying to figure out how Bo-Katan managed to access the network; the Mandalorian has always been skilled at building underworld connections. 

[I can’t go back] is what she sends. 

[That’s not what I’m asking] is the response. 

Ahsoka swallows, pacing a few steps before she sends the next message. 

[Then what do you want?] 

She waits, tapping the edge of the desk. 

[Do you remember Korkie?]

[Satine’s nephew, right?]

[Yes, but he’s actually her son.]

Ahsoka’s fingers hover over the screen. 

[What do you want from me?]

[He’s not safe here. And his father won’t help him.]

It takes a moment for the realization to dawn upon her. 

[He already has one force sensitive under his care, he won’t care another. Korkie needs training.] Bo-Katan continues. 

[I’m not a jedi]

[And he’s a Mandalorian]

Ahsoka takes a breath. 

[Where I am isn’t safe]

[He’s not a child, he’s a Mandalorian warrior. And anywhere the Empire can’t reach is safe enough.]

[I’ll have to discuss it with our team leader. I’ll contact you again in six hours]

[I await your transmission]

___________________________

“Chase, I need to talk to you…” she trails off, fixated on Kaz standing across the room. 

There’s something decidedly wrong about him. 

“He’s probably just mad we took away his dolls,” Bree teases as Chase begins unlocking the cyber desk. 

“What does that even mean?” Kaz asks. 

“The dolls, the ones you were just playing with earlier” Bree explains, confused.

Kaz looks back and forth, studying their expressions. “Oh, right. Yeah, those were really special to me.”

Now Chase and Bree tense, and Ahsoka strides more purposely near them. 

“Kaz,” Chase begins, “what do those dolls look like?”

They’re all moving forward, back Kaz closer against the wall. 

“Who are you?” Bree demands, and all three of them prepare for a fight. 

The imposter shape shifts in Riker. He stalks forward, but she can sense an undercurrent of fear about him too. “I’m taking that list. Question is, how much I have to hurt you to get it.”

Ahsoka allows herself to smirk, because she knows this time they’re not overestimating their abilities. 

______________________

It’s only the three of them, Chase, Bree, and her, that know they have a fake list prepared. 

She sees the flaw of that too late. 

The superhero Skylar snuck out to save ends up being Roman and Riker’s first casualty isn this new phase of terror.

Oliver and Kaz have an idea to save her, but she’s been dead too long by then, and they can’t get her heart beating again. 

The night ends with Chase and Oliver burying the body out beyond the outskirts of the city, wearing cyber cloaks just to be safe. 

She hopes Roman and Riker will at least leave her body undisturbed. 

_______________________

She knows this meeting isn’t going to be about what the rest of the team expects it too. 

“We’re adding a new member to the team,” Chase announces. 

“What? Who?” Bree asks, shocked. 

“His name is Korkie Kryze. He’s an old friend of Ahsoka’s.”

“A Mandalorian warrior who’s been training the past two years,” Ahsoka explains. “And a force-sensitive. Meaning he has the same ‘mystic powers’, as you call them, as me, though he hasn’t learned how to control them yet.” 

“And you’re sure we can trust him?” Oliver inquires. 

Ahsoka nods. “The only reason they knew to reach out this far in the galaxy was because of me. They don’t even know Rodissius or his children, much less have any loyalties to them.” 

“In two days, Ahsoka and I will be taking a ship to meet him on Raxtuvin. We should return early the next morning.”

________________________

He didn’t expect to find Skylar down here in the tunnels. And he definitely didn’t expect to see tears sliding down her cheeks. 

“It’s all my fault,” she whispers. 

“What is?”

“All of it. Crossbow’s death, almost losing the list…” she brings up a hand to dry her eye. “I thought when you brought back my powers I would finally be able to be a hero again, but all I’ve managed to be is less of one.” She looks down at the ground. “I’m a liability to the team,” she admits, “I can’t blame you for replacing me.”

“Korkie isn’t coming here to replace you.”

She looks up, confused. “I thought it was implied. Not that you were kicking me off the team, but that you got someone else so you didn’t have to rely on me.”

Chase sits down next to her. “That’s not why Korkie is coming here. He’s been on the run, recently discovering his abilities in the force with no one to train him…Ahsoka was the last ally he could turn to for help.” 

“Really?”

He nods.

Skylar seems to relax. “I must have sounded like such an idiot to jump to the conclusions I did.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Chase takes a breath. “And yes, you made a mistake. And you’ll have to live with those consequences. But you can’t let that guilt prevent you from doing your duty.” 

Skylar nods. “Thank you,” she whispers. 

And she doesn’t know how similar those words are to ones Ahsoka told to Chase three years ago. 

[daryldixonsdoormat]

Wade walker usually didn’t get involved with Squares or Women of any kind. Pepper and the rest of the group (apart from hatchet face) was completely convinced that Squares was Crybaby’s type. Of course you knew who Crybaby Walker was, he was the talk amongst the drapes and sang at jamborees. You are no little miss priss, you were a drape and surprisingly you didn’t cause a ruckus. You got in minor trouble every other day to embrace who you really are, but never more than slashing a squares tires. Allison was a acquaintance, she was a magnificent friend in middle school before money and where your from really mattered. She let go after freshman year, it was a real nasty argument, not long after the yelling her grandmother kicked you out. Insulting you’re clothing, music, the way you talk even chalking it all up to ‘hoodlum’ behavior. Alison didn’t scold or confront her grandmother for disrespecting your way of living. She shrugged it off and walked into her room without a word of goodbye.

It’s yearly vaccines, everyone has to yet shots for the school year and I’m still waiting in line. Alison is supposed to go next after the girl in the chair stops crying and gets off the stool. Pettiness is the only answer here of course, nurses can’t stop me from getting my shots even if I cut Alison in the Squares line. As she walks up to get on the stool I take a long stride in-front of her so quickly her hair moves from the air. I peel of my leather jacket and sit onto the stool while the nurse/doctor preps the needle. I smile at Alison who is struggling to be lady like and not glare. I stick my right hand up to shield the doctors view and I flip her off on the other side of my hand. She gasps rather dramatically and hits her boyfriends chest to look at my finger. I put my finger down before he could see not wanting to cause too big of a scene infront of so many. Squares have no problem causing a scene because they know there will be no consequences, a bunch of them are pushing Crybaby to the front of the drape line. He flings off his leather jacket partially it hanging off his elbows. He looks pissed, maybe it’s because of the shots or the rich kids seeming to think they can shove people around. Literally. They rub the alcohol pads on our arms and I look away trying to find something to distract me from the long ass needle Crybaby Walker was definitely a sight for sore eyes. A perfect distraction, he wasn’t supposed to turn towards me and catch me staring. I turn my head quickly closing my eyes, only to turn back seconds later to see him a tear rolling down his cheek. Is that way they call him Crybaby or is it something else.

We are dismissed as soon as we get the vaccine or to wherever we damn well please. Coincidentally I don’t have any where to go, no family, no friends I could trust to house me. Most nights are spent outside under the school bleachers or where all the jamborees are. No point of walking to a unknown destination when I could just hitch a ride off someone. It’s kinda ironic that Crybaby and his crew/family? Is leaning against a black car waiting for something to happen. I walk across the street and stop after the traffic lady persists I look both ways. I make a beeline to the group who have already took notice to my intentions of a conversation. “Hi Pepper. Everyone else” I’ve talked to Pepper a few times nothing spectacular though. Pepper nods and the rest of the group share snarky or relaxed looks when addressed. Crybaby lights a match from the inside of his mouth just to put it out on his tongue. Why? No idea but I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me more fond of him. “Crybaby, you think I could hitch a ride?” I say standing steady direct eye contact is always the way to ask for a ride. “Sure I could give a pretty little thing like you a lift” he says circling me before leaving back on his car. All is set there is a small period of silence before I get knocked into from the side by the one and only Alison. She swear aye back and forth on her heals smiling so bright it could blind someone. “Hi” sounds like she nearly yelled it at him the group looks at her with mischief, they want to make her a drape. “ You wanna tag along with us to the jamboree . I’ll be singing tonight.” he looks back over to me and asks if I would be interested as well. Alison boyfriends clasps onto mine and her shoulders, wanting to save two girls that shouldn’t be associating with drapes. He bling or either lost his mind, this guy remembers the few times I dressed up pretty to try and get on Alison’s grandmothers side. “Get your filthy hands off of me Bladwin. I ain’t no square, your girlfriend is” eyes are shifting all over the place going from Me to Alison back to Baldwin and then her grandmother. And a few rude comments and full fledged glares the squares leave and so do we.

AN: I’m making a part two definitely maybe a part three and it’s gonna be steamy (the make out scene).

[biisexualemma]

boys ain't shit. oscar diaz

word count: 2.2k

warnings: swearing, lots of just angst and angry feminist energy and if this doesn't align with your beliefs, feel free to leave!

requested: 'Hey!! First I want to say that you are an amazing writer so talented! So I was wondering if I could request and imagine with spookyxreader and she overhears Oscar speaking about her or something like maybe she is to clingy or anything you think will fit and then she sort of starts to leave him alone does t opposite of what she heard he doesn't like drifts a little he sees the change questions her and she tells him why- and so angst to fluff If you hate please disregard And thanks anyway ❤️'

a/n: thank you for this lovely request, i only apologise that it took me so long to write! but i'm also glad it did because i kept re-writing this over and over again and it never came out right, but i really love this version! i changed it slightly from the request lol i was listening to 'your power' by billie eilish on a loop while writing this and a lot of anger and preaching came out-- oop-- but also not mad about it. i really like this and hope you do too! enjoy 🤍

on my block masterlist / main masterlist

anger bubbled in your chest but your cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment. your stomach lurched, a mixture of emotions swirling through you. you were angry at him for being such an asshole, but mostly you were embarrassed that you'd found yourself in this position and hurt that he would think to treat you like this. he was an asshole, he always had been, you knew it before you started dating but, somehow, he still managed to worm his way in. mainly because when you were alone he was careful, and sweet, and kind. he cared about you, he told you any chance he got, and you believed him. you were always convinced he meant everything he said, which is why this stung all the more.

"nah, it ain't even like that— she's everywhere man, how you s'posed to shake a hyna like that?" their laughter rang through your ears as you stood, feet frozen in place, out of sight to them. "shit's ridiculous. she's always on top of me."

"man— if i had a hyna that fine on top o' me all the time—"

"the things i'd do—"

you shook your head, blocking out their vulgar comments and trying to rid of oscar's shrewd laughter filling your ears. you were sick to your stomach hearing him talk about you like that, to hear him encouraging his friends crude jokes about you.

you couldn't stop yourself as the small scoff left your lips, catching one of the boys' attention. sad eyes, his smile faltering when he spotted you tucked around the side of the house, listening to every word. "shit," you heard him mumble, nudging oscar whose back was facing you.

oscar always had a thing about keeping up his reputation, which you understood, to some extent, but this had nothing to do with that. this was his friends, talking about you as if you were an object to satisfy their needs. and he was encouraging them. this was you they were talking about, when he claimed to love you.

this wasn't a side to oscar you ever wanted to see, or believe existed. you knew how his friends could be, but to hear him condoning the shit coming out of his friends mouths, made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable.

not to even mention that he was being downright mean, and sleazy in talking about you. you could feel your anger growing the longer you stood there. oscar glanced over his shoulder, his face falling when his eyes met yours. your hands clenched into fists, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

you shook your head, finally knocked out of your state of shock, turning and stomping away from the group of santos. your breathing grew heavier, sweat dripping off you as the sweltering heat started to get to you. you were so angry you could cry. you trusted oscar with everything, it took you a long time to get to that point, and this is how he treated you.

you could hear his muffled calls from behind you getting louder as you continued to march away from the house. you yanked your wrist away when you felt his hand latch onto you, and carried on your walk home.

he sped up, jogging so he stopped dead in front of you, holding out his hands when you tried to manoeuvre around him. "i don't wanna talk to you right now," you spoke calmly, trying again to move past him, his hands latching onto your shoulders to keep you still.

"just— hang on will you—"

you shook your head repeatedly. "no—"

"i don't know what you heard but—" his grip tightened when you tried to wriggle free.

"no," you repeated harsher.

"y/n— c'mon— that was nothing—"

"oscar," you raised your voice, cutting off his ramblings. his eyes never left your face, his eyebrows unknitting when your frown deepened. he scrunched his eyes shut for a second, frustrated he'd upset you. he was annoyed with himself for being so stupid. "no," you repeated once more. his hands slowly released their grip on you, letting you walk passed him. you heard his curse under his breath, walking away from him.

you felt your lip quiver, a lump now growing in your throat as your anger turned into heartache. you weren't sure you wanted to forgive him. but, for now at least, you were going to give him exactly what he wanted. space.

-

hours later and you were stood in the middle of a crowded party, your teeth clenched around the rim of a red solo cup, biting nervously. you hadn't wanted to come, you would much rather have been at home with a pint of ice cream. but your friend convinced you that getting out of the house tonight would be better for you than wasting away your life thinking about boys and eating ice cream. so far, you weren't so sure she was right.

you'd lost count the amount of times you'd heard loosen up and, you should smile more, thrown at you tonight. you weren't in the right headspace to be surrounded by people who were drunk out of their mind, constantly telling you to cheer up. you wanted to shout out to the entire party, fuck off, so everyone would know to just leave you alone.

so when you spotted his familiar face across the room, having just entered the party, you almost lost it. "no," you muttered to yourself. "not happening," you shook your head. he had been exactly what you came here to get away from. you let out frustrated sigh, shoving your cup into your friends hand and pushing yourself out of the crowd of people.

you hoped to god that oscar hadn't spotted you. you could not hash this out with him right now, that pint of ice cream in your freezer at home was calling your name, and you were ready to claim it.

"fuck me," you felt a hand graze the small of your back. you shivered away from the unwanted touch, turning with a deep-set frown on your face, towards the stranger who'd touched you. "you're hot when you're angry like that—"

"i'm also a fucking psycho when i'm angry so back off," you spat harshly, pushing away the hand he held lingering on your skin. "and don't touch me again," the man backed up, his hands held up in front of him. you huffed, continuing to the exit.

you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cool night air hit your bare skin. you'd left your jacket inside, turning to retrieve it, you saw oscar walking right at you. deciding it wasn't worth the effort, you left, you'd rather freeze than have a conversation with him right now.

"i know you hate me," you heard him call from behind you, his pace quickening as he tried to catch up with you. "but you can't walk home by yourself."

you ignored him, hastening your walk so you didn't have to do this with him. you knew he was right, you knew how incautious you were being walking home late at night alone. but you also desperately wanted nothing to do with him right now.

"ma," you shook your head, trying not to lose it on him in the middle of the street. "c'mon—"

"no— you c'mon oscar," you halted your stride, not able to ignore him any longer. you might as well get it out of your system if he was going to keep persisting. "i have had it with men today. i never wanted to have to include you in that."

he ducked his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows you noticed now you'd stopped to look over him. his eyes rolled, letting out a heavy sigh he'd clearly been holding in for a while.

"c'mon," he tilted his gaze away from yours for a second, trying not to cave under your stare. "you know what the santos are like— it's not my job to keep 'em in check."

"it is when it's me they're talking about," you gritted your teeth, looking at him in disbelief. you'd expected that this was how the conversation was going to go down. which is exactly why you tried to avoid it, you simply didn't have the energy to stand here and explain basic human decency to him. "not to mention— it is literally your job. you run the santos."

"it's not that simple," he ran his hand over his face, taking a small step closer to you. his eyes meeting with yours, begging you not to run off again as he held out a cautious hand towards you. "they didn't mean anythin' by what they said— you think if they did i'd let them 'in an inch of you?"

"you're perpetuating a violent cycle of sexism and objectification by letting your friends talk about any girl like that," you felt your throat tighten, tears had, at some point, welled in your eyes. "and that's not even mentioning what you said about me."

he closed his eyes for a second, his hand dropping back to his side. he turned away from you for a moment, releasing a deep breath he'd been holding. "i didn't mean it," he shook his head, swinging round to face you again. his brown eyes, that you'd always been a sucker for, were literally boring into you. if you hadn't been so angry you would've done anything for him. "i wasn't thinking and i never thought you'd ever hear—"

"that makes it ok then?" you frowned, eyes narrowing at him. "god knows what else you've said about me when i haven't been around to hear it," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep up your appearance despite the tears threatening to fall.

"s'not what i meant," he threw is arms up in frustration. he had, in all honesty, been talking without thinking about what he was saying. he was tired and stressed about how stretched out his time was at the moment. he was taking on more and more work, and therefore, more and more stress and he wasn't dealing with it well. he clenched his jaw when you sniffled, wiping under your nose with the back of your hand. his eyelids drooped. "nena.."

"i just, don't get it," you let out a shaky breath, holding out your hands to stop him moving any closer to you. "if i was being too much, all you had to do was say."

his chest tightened hearing you talk about yourself like that. he shook his head, trying again to reach out to you but you only stepped further away. "you're not too much," he spoke quieter this time. oscar loved you, more than he'd ever loved a girl before, that much was true. he might be bad at showing it sometimes, maybe he let his frustration get the better of him a lot, and maybe he didn't simply tell you enough how much you meant to him. but he loved you, much more than you were aware of.

"then why would you say it?" your voice was soft, breaking when you spoke again. exhaustion was starting to get the better of the both of you. you didn't want to fight with him, you just couldn't get his words out of your head. why would he say it if he didn't mean it?

"it's not you," he reiterated, his lips pursed. he used his forefinger and thumb to unknit the crease between his brows. "it's everything else. with cesar fucking around, shit with the prophets, cuchillos— and then you," he ducked his head, pressing the palm of his hand into his forehead. "i don't know how to manage everything and make time for you."

"why didn't you just tell me?" your features softened, eyes watching him move under your stare. "it's what i'm here for."

he scrunched up his nose, shrugging. "i don't want you involved in santos business," you understood more than you did five minutes ago, but you were still holding yourself back.

"i'm already involved, oscar, it's too late for that," this caught his attention, his brown eyes focused on yours again. you weakened a little. "but if you would just talk to me instead of keeping everything to yourself, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

he nodded faintly, almost uncertain of where you were taking this conversation. last thing he wanted was to lose you because of something so stupid on his end. he reached out, you letting him come close enough now so he could take hold of your hands in his. he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, tugging you closer.

"you know, i love you," you mumbled now he was only inches away from you. "i don't wanna do this again so talk to me, please."

he nodded again, giving your hand another squeeze of reassurance. "i'll try," the way his brown eyes stuck to you made you believe he meant what he said. "i'll do better. promise. i'll keep the santos in check, too. you don't need to worry."

you sunk into his chest, letting him engulf you in a tight hug. you released a shaky breath of relief. his arms wrapped around you, your face squashed against his chest and your arms tightened around his torso. "love you, too, by the way," he mumbled, his mouth pressed into your head of hair. "so much."

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

[golbrocklovely]

never needed // colby brock

A/N: so fun fact about this fic is that i came up with it last year back in november. it was around the time me and my ex best friend stopped being friends. i was really in such a rough headspace, and i think the concept shows it. i just finished writing it today and wow... i still feel this way to some extent, but not fully (thank god). also i literally cried while writing it today so there’s that. hope yall enjoy this one. i'm trying to post a bunch of fics since this coming week is my bday (the 14th). no guarantees, but i'm trying my best to put out at least six things. let me know what you think of this one. see yall later :)

prompt: colby has been ghosting you for a while, just when things were starting to get good between you two. after a week of ignoring you, he’s finally ready to talk. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, heartache, crying, honestly this one is really sad so sorry about that, happy ending tho

word count: 2331

~~~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned to myself, staring at my phone.

Colby was still ignoring me, something I had grown accustomed to this week. He had ghosted my calls and my texts. He turned his read notifications off too, so I had no clue whether or not he had even seen my messages at all.

Everything had been going great between us. We had met a couple years back and hit it off as friends right away. I always thought he was attractive, and our friendship was always really flirty; so much so that fans thought we were together. And then finally, something clicked a couple months back. I wasn't sure if it was the accidental drunken kiss we shared, or just a built up of feelings, but we finally decided that maybe we should test out an actual relationship.

We promised each other we would take it slow, both of us still heartbroken from our previous relationships and our general trust issues. But these past two months, we went into overdrive, actually taking the time to feel each other out as boyfriend and girlfriend.

And for the first time, I felt happy. Genuinely happy.

A week ago, we had even gone on a cute little date, something we had started doing regularly. We were in the middle of our conversation; I remember I laughed hard at something he said. It was loud enough that some of the patrons in the restaurant stared at us. And when he tried to shush me jokingly, a silence had fallen over us.

His face dropped suddenly, he became super serious and quiet, and then he asked if we could go home.

He told me the next day that he thought he got food poisoning and it just hit him in the restaurant. I didn't think anything of it and was fine with going home early.

But now, I wonder if he was lying.

I looked back down at my phone, reading over my messages from the past week to him.

Was I taking this too far? He could have just been busy. I don't wanna come across as clingy.

"Ugh, fuck that." I muttered out loud to myself, rolling out of my bed to get a drink.

I didn't care if I came across as clingy. I had a right to know why he was ignoring me. If it was work related, he would have told me. He had done that in the past before.

This was different, I just knew it.

Tomorrow, I planned to go over and see him. I would have done it tonight, but I knew he wasn't home. He was out with some friends at Saddle Ranch. Like a fan, I had to watch his stories on Insta, since that was the only way I knew where he was.

"Don't expect too much from him." Sam said.

I shook my head at that memory. When we got together, everyone was happy for us. But I could feel a certain tension in the room, a certain caveat that wasn't being mentioned. Later that night, Sam and I were by ourselves, and he asked me if Colby and I had really made our relationship official. I told him we hadn't gone all the way, but that we were taking it one step at a time.

"I'm happy for you guys, really. I just wonder..." His voice trailed off.

I cocked my head. "Wonder what?"

"Look, I love you both, but I don't know if Colby is really ready for a relationship. There's a lot of things he still needs to work through." He stated.

"We're not that serious." I laughed.

"Yeah, yet. If you plan to be, I just don't want you to get your heart broken because he wasn't ready." Sam admitted.

I patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. "Relax, Samuel. Everything will be fine."

"Alright. Just... don't expect too much from him, okay?" He mentioned, his eyes narrowing on mine.

That had been two months ago and... I think I should have heeded his warning.

A loud knock at my front door brought me out of my thoughts, scaring me. I grabbed a knife from my kitchen, striding over to the door. I glance through the peephole to see who was there.

Colby's face stared back.

"Y/N, it's me. Can you open the door?" He called.

I scowled at him through the peephole. "Sorry she's not home right now. Maybe you should try responding to her texts.”

“Look I'm sorry, but that's why I came over. I wanted to talk in person.” He replied.

“Damn, that’s a shame. Too bad she’s not home!” I exclaimed angrily.

“C’mon now, don’t be childish.” He remarked.

I swung the door open, holding back from yelling into my hallway. “Childish?!”

He smirked at me. “I knew that would get you to open the door.”

“You’re not funny.” I deadpanned, glaring at him.

“Can you please let me in? I seriously want to talk.” Colby responded, his eyes landing on mine.

“No, Colby. It’s one o’clock in the morning, I don’t feel like talking, and you’re drunk.” I jeered, resting my hands on my hips.

He scrunched up his face dramatically. “No, I’m not. I only had like two drinks.”

“Oh my mistake. I figured a person that randomly comes over to talk at the ass-crack of night is usually drunk,” I quipped. “Don’t you have better things to do, like be at Saddle Ranch?”

He stepped back, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you know I was at Saddle Ranch?”

I could feel my cheeks heat up. “Because… I watched your stories.”

“Nice to know you pay attention to me,” he uttered under his breath. “Please let me in.”

“No. Fuck off, Colby.” I hissed.

He rolled his eyes at my comment. “If you don’t let me in, I’m just gonna make noise out here in the hallway until you do.”

“Bet.” I huffed.

“What was your favorite movie again… ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” He questioned, stepping back further into the hallway.

I blinked. “Yeah, so what?”

He looked up at me, giving me a devilish smile. “…You’re just too good to be true.”

My face dropped at his voice. “Colby.”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” He sang, pointing at me.

“Are you really-” I started.

He cut me off, running his hands down his body. “You’d be like heaven to touch.”

I hushed. “Seriously stop-”

“I wanna hold you so much.” He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself.

I grunted, smacking my hand towards him. “Colby, it’s one in the morn-”

“At long last, love has arrived.” He opened his arms wide.

“Shut the fuck up!” I whisper-shouted.

“And I thank God I'm alive.” Colby praised up towards the ceiling.

I retorted. “You’re fucking embarrass-”

He spun in a circle slowly. “You're just too good to be true.”

“I knew giving you the code to my apartment was a bad idea.” I grumbled.

“Can't take my eyes off of you.” He winked, pointing at me again.

Colby took a big inhale, ready to start singing the music, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my apartment.

I slammed my door shut, locking it quickly. “Next time you do something like that, I’m gonna kill you.”

“That’s not very- why do you have a knife?” He motioned toward the knife sitting on my side table.

“What-? Oh, I thought you were an intruder.” I explained.

He lightly smiled, his dimples appearing. “You think an intruder would knock?”

I snapped, annoyed. “Aren’t you here to apologize?”

“Right, right,” he cleared his throat, his demeanor changing. “Y/N, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Sure.” I narrowed my eyes, walking towards my kitchen.

He followed me. “I know what I did was fucked up. I should have responded to you.”

“You completely ignored me for over a week.” I informed him, resting my back against the counter.

He nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I crossed my arms uncomfortably. “…were you busy?”

“No, not really.” He divulged, dropping his head.

“So, you purposefully ignored my calls and text…” I could feel my hands shake against my arms.

“You make it sound bad-” He mumbled.

“It is that bad.” I emphasized, stopping him. “Colby, you wanna talk about being childish? That shit was childish.”

He agreed. “I know it was.”

“Obviously not since you keep joking about it.” I argued.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he protested, running his hands through his hair. “Do you wanna know the honest to God truth?”

“Of course I do.” I answered, furrowing my eyebrows.

He exhaled, glancing at me. “When we first got together, even though we were taking it slow, I was terrified to date you.”

“Terrified?” I puzzled.

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Scared shitless.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“I thought it was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But then… at dinner,” his voice lowered, his shoulders dropping. “I realized it was more than that.”

I shook my head, confused. “What are you ta-”

“I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” He confessed.

His words made me step back, my breath hitching in my throat.

I choked. “What?”

“When you laughed really hard, and did that cute snort thing you do, I remember we looked at each other… and all I saw was you,” his eyes bore into mine, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. “No one else in that restaurant existed. And in that moment, I wanted to tell you I love you.”

I stammered out words, unable to think clearly. “S-so… you-”

“When I felt it, I knew I had to go home. Because I was just so shocked at the feeling. I haven’t felt that way for anyone in a long time.” He sighed exhaustingly, “and… I apologize that I ignored you. Every time I saw your messages, I knew I should have responded. But my body, my mind, wouldn’t let me.”

I frowned. “Because you love me?”

“Because… I’m scared to love you.” He admitted.

A heavy silence fell over the apartment. I shuddered out an exhale, not even noticing I had been holding my breath in for so long. Colby closed his eyes, twisting up his face, and turned his back to me.

“Why are you scared to love me?” I gulped, scared of his answer.

His shoulders tensed as he gripped the counter. “The last time you felt heartbroken… did it leave you feeling empty? Because that’s how I felt… for so long. It’s not even the empty feeling that bothered me. It was the fact that I knew something used to be there… and now it’s gone. I miss who I was before.”

I opened my mouth, but no words escaped.

“I have this deep, guttural feeling that you’re gonna realize I’m not worth loving, and that there is someone else out there that is, and you’re gonna leave me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, “everyone… always leaves me.”

I gasped quietly. “Colby-”

He turned back to me, his face becoming red. “I just feel like no one ever needs me, you know? Like some people only keep me around because they don’t have the heart to just tell me they don’t care anymore. Even Sam has someone else.

I consoled. “That’s not-”

“And I know it’s selfish to want everyone around me to only want me. I don’t really feel that way. I just… don’t feel like anyone really needs me as much as I need them,” his chest quaked as his breathing began to speed up. “And when you realize it too… I don’t think I can live through that fall out again. I don’t think I’m gonna survive it.”

“Wait, Col-” I murmured.

“At that dinner, I had this gut-wrenching anxiety come over me; a voice in my head that said ‘she’s gonna leave you too’ and… I’m just so sorry.” He panted, his eyes welling up.

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pressing his body into mine as hard as I could. He buried his face into my neck, his body almost going limp against mine.

I couldn’t help my own tears spill as they landed on his shirt. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way before?”

“I was ashamed. I should be stronger than this.” He fumed through his tears.

I rubbed his face lovingly. “Who said that? You are strong. Expressing your emotions is strong.”

He nodded, croaking. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course. How about tonight you stay over, and then in the morning, we’ll talk about this more? Okay?” I suggested, resting my hands on his forearms.

“Yeah.” He whimpered.

I smiled brokenly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I lightly grasped Colby’s hand, pulling him slowly into my bedroom. He stumbled along, his head remaining down.

I sat him down on the bed and slid off his jacket, placing it on my dresser. I cupped his face, tracing his jaw with my fingers. His eyes finally landed on mine as I tilted his head up.

I leaned down and kissed his lips, resting my forehead against his.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Colby.” I stated, gazing into his eyes.

He begged in a hushed tone. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.” I reassured, kissing his forehead.

I walked over to the other side of my bed and laid down. Colby kicked off his shoes, taking his belt off and pulling his jeans down. After getting undressed, he slid into bed with me, laying his head down softly on my chest. Wrapping his arms around me, he buried his head into my neck again, sighing against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair, a light hum falling from his lips. I ran my other hand up and down his spine, feeling him shiver under my touch.

“We’ll be okay, Colby.” I whispered.