#huddle formation

[poe-mashups]

Chappell Roan - Hot to Go The Go! Team - Huddle Formation

Everyone and their mother has made a Chappell Roan mashup by this point. Here's mine.

Beginning sampled from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJ5cN83TGeI

[paxcallow]

shut up nez

[croc-odette]

Truman show ending… character escaping the narrative but also the audience loving the character to a point that they WANT the character to escape the narrative

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

stilinski's reputation

lacrosse star!stiles x fem!cheerleader!reader "whatever you do, avoid number twenty-four at all costs" 6.5K Words, 50% plot, 50% smut, reg high school au (no supernatural), scott's your friend not stiles', protected p-in-v, blowjob, slight mutual masturbation, nicknames "princess" and "daddy" but not the actual ddlg dynamic

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

“alright, huddle up ladies!” leslie, the cheer captain exclaims. the group of girls in ponytails and athletic shorts break from their formation on the mat to form a tight-knit group around her.

“first off; great practice. we just need to make sure we’re remembering our facials, ok, not getting too lost in the routine to actually perform and we will be fucking golden tomorrow night!” she praises, and a round of whoops and applause ripples through the cheer squad.

“now since tomorrow is the first game of the season, we need to go over some ground rules,” her tone becomes more serious but most of the girls around her roll their eyes. 

“number one: if you choose to drink at any of the parties this season, do not post about it. i don’t want to have to ban y’all from games but coach does so please, just keep it off socials,” she pleads and the girls nod reluctantly.

“basically just don’t get sloshed around anyone that might film you. especially not the team,” the brunette co-captain to leslie’s right pipes up in a dry tone.

“yeah, exactly, thank you, megan,” leslie concurs and continues her list.

“number two: do not neglect your schoolwork,” the group lets out a groan, “i’m serious! we study as a team in the library every tuesday night for a reason. you don’t get to be a cheerleader if you’re not at least a decent student,” she scolds.

“and lastly and most importantly, number three: do not sleep with any of the players,” leslie states and an awkward silence falls over the team.

“seriously it’s not worth it. don’t believe the stereotype of the athlete/cheerleader golden couple. all high school guys are douchebags, even if they can shoot a ball into a net good,” megan continues, backing leslie up to a soundtrack of giggles from the squad.

“yes, yes. but there is one player in particular that’s been a…” she pauses, exchanging a knowing look with her co-captain, “problem in previous years. whatever you do, avoid number twenty-four at all costs,”

“who’s twenty-four?” an olive-skinned girl with matching jet-black pigtails inquires with a raise of her perfectly manicured hand.

megan smiles mischievously but leslie keeps a steely look on her poreless face.

“stiles stilinski,” leslie spits out, accenting the syllables of his name with sharp staccato pauses.

“he’s relentless,” megan remarks in an almost awestruck tone.

“yes, he is, and cheerleaders are like pokemon to him; he tries to collect them all,” the captain continues, bristling at the laughter her comment elicits from the girls.

“what’s so bad about him sleeping with cheerleaders?” a blonde girl with pink lips smothered in gloss asks rather mockingly.

“he just drives girls crazy. once he sleeps with him, they like, totally lose all focus and become obsessed with him,” you respond with contempt, having heard this warning many times. several girls around you nod in agreement, having witnessed this phenomenon firsthand.

“yes and i need my team focused, ok. so don’t go anywhere near him. if he offers you a ride in his jeep, call one of us to drive you instead. if he invites you to a party, bring a buddy and don’t let her out of your sight. and if he asks for your number, so help me god; give him a fake one,” she lists, her tone getting more desperate as she goes on.

“and remember; stilinski’s a whore, but he’s an ethical whore,” megan chimes in, matter-of-factly, wagging a finger, “he always has a condom, he’s very open about getting tested every couple of months, and he is surprisingly respectful. none of those are reasons to sleep with him,” she reiterates, letting her blue-eyed gaze pierce through each and every one of her teammates.

“yes, just because he’s not a teen dad and he’s not rapey doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. don’t let him pull you in with the bare fucking minimum. higher standards ladies, please!” leslie finishes and she takes in the expressions on the faces of her team. 

some are shocked, some annoyed, and some are confused, which worries her the most. confusion leads to curiosity which leads to learning this lesson the hard way, something she’s expressly trying to avoid.

“alright, practice dismissed, cyclones on three,” leslie pivots, putting her hand in the center of the circle, the rest of the team’s soon following, “one, two, three,”

“cyclones!” the team shouts and disperses into lively conversing groups in a matter of seconds. megan hangs back, grabbing her water bottle from the ground and putting an arm over leslie’s shoulders as they walk back to the locker room to change.

“so how many victims do you think stilinski will claim this year?” she asks with a grin. megan takes a sick pleasure in the star player’s slutty antics and almost bet money on who he’d end up taking down last year, which leslie had scolded her severely for.

“optimistically, none. realistically, a few,” she sighs, and then remembers, “but he’s a senior. one more season of this madness and then beacon hills cheerleaders will be free of him,”

“we’re lucky he’s an only child. i bet he’d train his little brother if he had one,” megan jokes.

“no shit,” leslie agrees, horrified at the concept of another stilinski terrorizing the female population of beacon hills high school. the one they have is plenty chaotic already.

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

your locker opens with a metallic clang and you deposit your heavy history textbook inside of it, since you won’t need it until the last period. your best friend scott slides into the peripheral vision on your left side, a cheery expression on his face.

“morning. got you a matcha,” he greets, handing you the warm paper cup with tendrils of steam escaping the plastic lid from his right hand, keeping his left clutching his own drink.

“oh my god, thank you so much,” you respond gratefully, turning to face him as you take a generous sip.

“game day makeup already?” he asks, his dark-brown eyes scanning your overlined maroon lips, heavily blushed cheeks and sparkly eyelids.

“yeah, we’ve got the assembly after fifth period,” you remind him, taking off in the direction of your shared homeroom.

“oh right. is this one gonna go better than last years?” scott asks, sidestepping a group of guys that rudely decided to walk directly down the middle of the hallway.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, accusatory. 

“didn’t you give paige body dysmorphia or whatever last year?” your friend asks with an overexaggerated smile.

“oh my god, my hand slipped! i didn’t even know she’d gained weight, jesus,” you shoot back, referencing an unfortunate fall that paige the flier had experienced at last year’s assembly that may, (or may not), have been your fault. leave it to scott to always remember your worst moments better than you do.

“it was a whole three pounds, y/n,” he responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “everyone was saying you gave an eating disorder,”

“yeah, well, if i did she should thank me. i’m pretty sure eating disorders are a requirement to become a flier,” you respond, knowing scott won’t take your dark humor seriously. the hallway narrows into a smaller corridor and your friend squeezes closer to you as you walk.

“did leslie mention that in her big speech at practice yesterday?” he asks, taking a hearty swig from his coffee cup.

“ok you know way too much about how the cheer team operates,” you retort.

“you’re my friend, i know about your stuff,” he counters warmly.

“that’s not why you know so much. you’re hoping that all these years of friendship will lead to me hooking you up with one of my teammates,” you bite back. as if on cue, a gaggle of cheerleaders wearing the same gaudy makeup as you round the corner and walk past both of you. you smile and wave and scott’s eyes follow them eagerly.

“no i gave up on that being a possibility like, two years ago. but a guy can dream,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly to break his gaze from the girls.

“gross, don’t,” you say, being unfortunately reminded of your friend’s sexuality every time your squad comes around, “and for the record, all leslie really did was give the ol’ “stay away from stilinski” speech,”

“you better have listened,” scott retorts, holding the door to the classroom open for you, “if you text him again i will have zero sympathy left,”

“listen, issac dumped me right in the middle of last season so i tried to hop on some community dick. it happens, we all make mistakes and-

“pretty fucking massive mistake, y/n” scott responds, setting his backpack down next to his desk.

“-now i know better and it won’t happen this year, ok. you live and learn,” you list calmly, removing a notebook and pencil from your bag as you sit down.

“at least he didn’t fuck you,” scott responds, dryly finding the positive of your lapse in judgement.

“thank fucking god for that,” you respond through gritted teeth as the bell rings.

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

the harsh led lights illuminate the lacrosse field for the crowd packed in the metal risers surrounding it. the material creaks and groans under the weight of their stamping and cheering.

you stand in formation, shivering slightly with the chilly breeze. the game has been going well, but the opposing team took a late lead in the third quarter, leaving the cyclones down by one. there’s a minute and ten seconds left in the game and all eyes are glued on the infamous number twenty-four. they wait with baited breath for stiles stilinski to keep the cyclone’s near perfect record intact.

you watch his movements from the sidelines, relying on muscle memory to guide you through the routines you’ve spent three years performing.

he seems like more than an athlete when he’s playing. there’s a certain grace about him that’s more comparable to a dancer than a lacrosse player. he shoots the ball with laser precision into the net, tying the game. thirty-five seconds left.

“ending on a tie isn’t bad for the first game,” a dark-skinned girl with a high ponytail of tight braids mutters to your left as she shakes her poms furiously.

“stilinski never ties. they’ll get one more goal,” a girl behind you responds, her voice raspy from cheering.

when play resumes, it is as if someone lit a fire beneath stiles’ feet. he races with vigor towards the opposing net, bodying several players on his way. the impact barely seems to phase him as he hauls the ball into the net for the upteenth time tonight to uproarious applause. the cyclones win, 8-9.

you watch him get smothered by the testosterone-fueled mob of his teammates. you can almost see the flash of his cocky grin from all the way across the field.

great, he’ll be in rare form tonight, you think, reminding yourself once again to avoid him at tonight’s party.

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

stiles crosses the crowded living room, getting several pats on his back and encouraging cheers as he goes. red solo cups litter whoever’s house this is and the music seems to shake the very foundation. a nice buzz courses through his body, not enough to make him stumble but enough to bring a flush to his mole-littered cheeks.

“hey,” he says almost innocently as he reaches the couch you’re lounging on.

“nope,” you say abruptly, rising from your spot and walking away. stiles stands with his lips slightly parted and his eyebrows furrowed for several uninterrupted seconds.

“um, excuse me?” he calls after you, following somewhat clumsily behind.

“i’m not doing this tonight, stilinski. the season just started for god’s sake,” you respond firmly, weaving through the crowd to get to the kitchen.

“i’m not doing anything!” stiles defends.

“you’re talking to me and that means you’ve marked me and that’s a fucking problem,” you rant, pouring yourself a heavy-handed vodka redbull. it’s more the former than the latter.

“‘marked’ you? what am i, a fucking hunter?” he snorts, grabbing a bottle of smirnoff and refilling his own cup.

“yes, and i will not be your prey tonight. find some other girl, stilinski,” you smirk, intentionally bumping his shoulder on your way back out of the kitchen. stiles continues his pursuit, taking a swig of liquid courage as he does.

“hey, i just wanted to talk. i thought you liked talking to me,” he smirks, referencing last season’s indiscretion. he jogs slightly beside you as you make your way to the pool outside.

“i did,” you correct forcefully, “i had a severe and continuous lapse in judgement. it won’t happen again,” you reassure sarcastically, flopping down on an open pool chair. he stands over you, his toned form all-too-apparent under his tight white t-shirt.

“i don’t bite, y/n” he coos suggestively, “unless you want me too,” he adds, eliciting an eye roll from you that’s so forceful it threatens to detach your retinas.

“go take a bite out of lydia, i hear she’s your squeeze of the week,” you retort, recalling the image of him kissing the red-head on the cheek as he entered the party. stiles nudges your legs to the side, taking a seat on the edge of your pool chair. he deliberately ignores the deep sigh you exhale.

“nah she’s back with jackson,” he replies easily. you furrow your brow in confusion.

“dude you made out with her in your car in the school parking lot like, four days ago,” you reply bluntly, remembering your teammates scoffs of disgust when you’d discovered them after practice one night.

“yeah. she wasn’t with him then,” he responds cooly, not at all phased by your confusion.

“so what, she just flip flops between you two?” you ask sarcastically.

“yeah,” stiles responds earnestly, “we have a system. she breaks up with him on the last day of winter break, gets with me,” he smirks and your eye roll plagues you once more, “then if the first game goes well, she gets back together with him,” 

“i-” you falter, mind reeling at that information, “-have so many questions,”

“ask away,” stiles invites, the smile not leaving his face even as he takes another swig from his cup.

“why the fuck would jackson be ok with you fucking lydia while they’re broken up?” you blurt out and stiles chuckles.

“it’s uh, like a motivation thing. he plays better when he’s jealous, i guess,” he shrugs his shoulders and places a hand on your shin. you shake your leg as if you’re trying to get a bug off and he quickly removes it.

“that’s psychotic,” you scold.

“maybe. but he has four d1 offers so it definitely works for him,” stiles responds. he’s eerily ok with this objectively insane arrangement. 

“what if this first game doesn’t go well? would she just stay with you?” you continue your questioning, morbid curiosity replacing disgust with each answer stiles gives.

“i don’t know,” he responds with a far off gaze, “it’s never happened so i’ve never had to find out,”

“so what does lydia get out of this?” you ask, trying to resist the urge to call him a cocky asshole for the “it’s never happened” comment. as egotistical as stilinski is, he’s not unrealistic; the cyclones have only lost one game since he joined the varsity team his sophomore year.

“well, a girl’s got needs,” he smiles mischievously and your disgust returns ten-fold, “that and uh, she likes to be earned,” he finishes, looking down at the ground.

“earned?” you clarify.

“yeah, she wants jackson to put in effort to keep her. she also wants him to know that she’s got options,” he motions to himself with his free hand.

“does no one know how to maintain a normal fucking relationship around here?” you ask, your eyes searching wildly as if the answer will appear before you.

“guess not,” stiles laughs, maintaining eye contact for a little too long. his eyes are pitch-black in the low light of the porchlights and carry an oddly sincere gaze. 

“so what do you get out of this arrangement?” you ask dryly and the boy hesitates, despite leaning in closer.

“i feel like if i tell you, you’re gonna hit me,” he whispers, his eyes glinting and his lips curling into yet another punchable smirk. you swing your legs out to the other side of the pool chair that he’s not blocking and slug him in the shoulder as you stand up, fulfilling his prophecy. 

“where are you going?” he asks, a twinge of disappointment coloring his tone.

“away from here. i’ve had enough stilinski charm for one night, thank you,” you respond smartly, not turning to face him as you walk back towards the sliding glass doors. in a matter of seconds, stiles is standing in front of you, a strong hand gripping your left wrist. not hard enough to be threatening but just hard enough to keep you in place.

“hey, you can lie to your friends and your squad, but i saw you looking at me tonight,” he mutters gruffly and you blush crimson. he leans down to whisper in your ear, “when you’re ready to act on that, meet me upstairs,” he lets go of your wrist, turning his body to let you pass.

“you’re a fucking asshole, stilinski,” you snap, trying to clear the dry lump that’s formed in your throat as you walk past.

“i know, sweetheart,” he purrs, gratuitously observing the way your hips sway from side to side as you saunter back through the sliding glass doors.

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

“so…” stiles whispers, letting both of his calloused hands slide up your torso to grip your tits, “does this count as the same lapse in judgement as last year…” he lets both hands travel to your nipples, where he pinches them gently, “...or is this a new one?”

“i don’t know…” your voice flutters back, your mind too preoccupied with the feeling of your core dampening in response to his gentle touch to be properly sarcastic, “...you should ask my friend scott, right after he-” you stop your sentence to moan slightly as stiles rolls both nipples between his nimble fingers. “-kills me for sleeping with you,”

“oh please…” stiles scoffs, smirking as you writhe beneath him. both sets of clothes have been lost to the floor of whoever’s bedroom this is and the door has been carefully locked behind you two. you lie on your back on the bed, your legs spread all-too-willing as stiles kneels between them, his knees low to the bed and his hard cock resting gently on your groan, agonizingly far from your pulsating opening.

“...scott probably wants to fuck you just as bad as i do,” stiles smirks, reveling in your pleasure as you buck your hips upwards. the blood throbs in his cock, as if begging him to insert himself into you, but this is the part he really gets off on; getting you wet with just his fingers on your hardened nipples.

“gross,” you moan, partly with pleasure, partly with disgust at the sudden image of your friend’s face while you’re in such a compromising position.

“i’m just saying…” he reaches his right hand down to stroke his cock gently, keeping himself as hard as possible for you, “...i don’t think any guy could be friends with someone as hot as you and not want to fuck you,” he states, almost matter-of-factly as he pulls a nipple upwards with his left hand and then releases his grip suddenly, eliciting an undignified whine from you. 

“you like that, baby?” he coos and your stomach twists.

“don’t call me that,” you mutter tersely, not acknowledging the question. you don’t have to anyways; stiles can see by the way you puff your chest forwards into his hands that you need his touch more than you’d care to admit right now.

“sorry, what would you prefer? sweetheart?” he asks, pushing your tits together with both hands and using just his thumbs to swipe at them, “angel? princess?” he asks and watches intently as you snake your right hand down to your core, inserting several fingers and begin to pump them desperately. you are in dire need of some friction down there as stiles still refuses to put his dick to good use yet.

“oh, i think we have a winner,” he coos suggestively, sitting back slightly to watch your fingers slide in and out of your core with a hungry look in his eyes. “are you getting yourself ready for me, princess?” he asks in a sugary-sweet tone, placing his left hand on your hip and his right back on his member, where he begins to pleasure himself to the sounds of your moans.

“mhm,” you groan, adding another finger to stretch your walls further. stiles quickens the pace of his strokes, the soft slapping sound of skin on skin filling the warm room. after losing himself in the friction for a moment, he remembers his task, forcing himself to let go of his leaking cock. several drops of precum drip onto the grey duvet cover as he grabs your rapidly moving right hand.

“may i?” he asks in a husky voice. you nod vigorously, unsheathing your hand. he flips his palm upwards and inserts his two middle fingers to the hilt, using his free thumb to rub uniform circles over your clit. a jolt of pleasure seizes your stomach and you push your hips forwards. he keeps his fingers still, letting you fuck yourself on them in a steady rythm and admiring the desperation on your face, as its clear you need more stimulation.

he shifts slightly and lowers his mouth to one of your nipples, taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it slowly. your whimpers are completely undignified now and you don’t have enough cognitive function to care.

“fuck that feels good,” you mewl, your eyes shut tight now.

“really?” stiles questions mockingly, removing his lips from your nipple. “what happened to “you’re a fucking asshole, stilinski”?”

“you are…” you whisper breathlessly, “...but you’re good for certain things,”. stiles insert a third finger as you continue thrusting yourself upon them.

“y/n, you’re so desperate for me that you’re fucking yourself on my fingers…” he teases darkly, straightening up and once again bringing his left hand to his cock, “...i think we can move past insults,”

“yeah, cause you’re not enjoying this at all, stiles,” you moan sarcastically, lifting your head to see him once again stroke himself with a needy look in his eyes.

“i’m just waiting,” he groans, trying and failing to keep the pleasure from warping his tone.

“for what?” you ask, dropping your head to the pillow again.

“for you to beg,” he whispers ominously and you let out a barking laugh.

“in your wet fucking dreams, stilinski,” you spit back, aware that the euphoric sensation you feel from his fingers stretching you out deliciously directly contradicts your mocking tone. he removes his hand abruptly and your breath hitches in your throat. 

stiles disappears to the bedroom floor, rustling the belt of his jeans slightly as he searches for something and reappears between your thighs, ripping a small foil packet between his teeth. he removes the thin latex ring and slides it easily over his shaft without missing a beat.

“you are way too quick at that,” you remark, almost in awe at his swift contraception skills. the other guys you’ve slept with, (and to be fair, there’s only been two), had struggled greatly with condoms, clumsily opening the packages and never rolling it over themselves on the first try.

“lots of practice,” stiles mutters and you find yourself rolling your eyes but keeping the sarcastic comment to yourself. he grabs his cock and begins rubbing it exceptionally slowly up and down your folds.

“now, what was it you were saying about not begging?” he asks gently, watching your face contort with annoyance at his teasing. your inner walls are practically pulsing his name in morse code but you choose to keep up your aloof cover.

“i don’t fucking beg,” you spit out, mustering a great deal of mental power to be able to get that sentence out. 

“come on, y/n,” stiles coos, rubbing your clit with his free hand, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body, “you know you want this….i know you want this…” he pushes his tip forwards, expanding your opening for just a moment before pulling it back out to your disgruntled whimper, “...why lie to me?”

“you don’t…” you pause to bite your bottom lip, not wanting your moan to escape, “...deserve the…satisfaction,”

“but you do, princess,” he retorts back, once again inserting himself a few centimeters and then promptly pulling his cock back out and rubbing your glistening pleats.

“ugh,” you huff, every inch of your body craving his. you cannot stand another second of stiles taunting you with his agonizingly brief friction so you finally cave. you make a mental note to threaten him with bodily harm should he ever attempt to divulge the following words that fall from your lips.

“just fuck me, stiles; please?”

“deal,” he mutters under his breath, lining himself up eagerly, and thrusting his throbbing tip into your willing hole. he slides himself slowly inside, reveling at how tightly you remain wrapped around him. he lets out a moan of his own as he bottoms out, his pelvic bone meeting yours with a soft bump.

he stops moving for a moment, remaining fully sheathed inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his large size. white spots burst in the corners of your vision but dissipate as you get used to the feeling of him filling your cavity so nicely.

“wow,” he marvels, his voice hushed as if he didn’t actually mean to say that out loud, “you took me really well,”

you focus your blown pupils on his, taking in the thin layer of sweat on his brow and his quivering pink lips.

“are you surprised?” you ask in a daze.

“kinda,” he admits sheepishly, “i’ve been told i’m kind of big,”

he is. you thought you were being spoiled in your last relationship by your boyfriend’s five-incher but stiles has to be over seven, with girth to boot. a distant part of your mind finally connects the dots that this may be why girls go a little nuts after sleeping with him. you hope you won’t go too insane after tonight but the way he so easily spreads your walls further apart with practically no effort at all has you internally screaming for more.

as if stiles could hear your thoughts, he begins to deliver you some pleasant friction, rolling his hips forwards and backwards slowly, watching your face contort in ecstasy. his own pleasure swells in his groin as your pussy grips his cock with a great deal of suction.

“fuck, you’re really tight,” he murmurs, again more to himself than you. he’s enjoying the pressure of your enclosure wrapped around him, but he’s almost finding it hard to move. it’s as if your body refuses to release him. 

he tentatively pulls most of his length out of you and rams it back harder, hitting your cervix with a soft thump that causes your hips to buck in response. almost immediately your pussy ensnares him once more, constricting around his manhood tighter than before. it’s stiles’ turn to see spots in his vision that briefly distract him from his mission.

“jesus, y/n, where have you been all my life?” he mewls in a low tone full of lust. 

“i feel good, stiles?” you ask in a breathy tone that somehow increases his arousal even further. you’ve given up on fighting him. however cocky he is about his sexual prowess, he deserves it. you find every fiber of your resolve loosening with each jab of his shaft.

“good?” he asks, quickening his thrusts and gripping the plush of your thighs with his large hands, “you fucking…ungh,” he groans, only half aware that his jaw has gone slack and he looks completely entranced, “...fit me like a glove. i…” he stares down at where his cock disappears inside you, marveling at your wetness, “...could get used to this,”

“me too,” you mutter against your better judgement, reaching your hands out to grab his hips as his thrusts become sloppier, “stiles you’re huuuuuuge,” you moan out, extending the word into a high pitch squeal that falters with each thrust.

“you take me so well…most girls can’t handle all of me right away…but you…fuck���y/n,” his voice becomes needier with each passing syllable. stiles is slowly unraveling inside you. his body count is in the dozens and he’s done it in just about every imaginable position and location but missionary with you is topping nearly every sexual encounter he’s ever had.

“stiles, i wanna switch,” you breathlessly request, remembering your favorite position through your dick-induced brain fog. stiles forces himself to slow his hips, almost whimpering in pain at the loss of his beautiful momentum.

“what do you mean?” he asks, taking the moment of pause to caress your thighs. you pull yourself off of him and sit up.

“i want you from behind,” you order, pushing his sweaty chest out of the way and positioning yourself on your hands and knees. stiles nearly drools at the sight of your pretty cunt from this new angle and can’t help himself from kneeling down and running his tongue across your clit for a moment. your knees buckle slightly at the touch of his mouth, but he straightens up quickly, pumping his cock as he brings himself to your opening.

“you can have me wherever you want me, princess,” he coos, shoving his tip inside you and groaning at the renewed contact. “you’re fucking dripping for me, ugh you feel so good,”

this new position was exactly what you needed. stiles’ massive cock slamming you from behind slowly works your body into a writhing mess. you grip the sheets on either side of you, letting every moan that forms in your throat to fall, no longer feeling embarrassed at showing him that you’re enjoying yourself. stiles’ hands grab your hips, stopping the movement of his own in favor of slamming yours back and forth.

“stiles just like that,” you moan, feeling your pleasure build in your core. you force your knees even farther apart, desperate to get all of him as deep as he can possibly go. your arms buckle beneath you, sending you face down, ass up as you take all seven and a half inches of stiles’ throbbing cock.

“aw princess, are you gonna cum?” he asks, trying for an almost mocking tone but failing as a whimper escapes him.

“mhm daddy,” you whine and stiles’ thrust pause for a millisecond.

“did you-did you just call me “daddy”?” he clarifies in a stunned tone, resuming his rhythm.

“too much?” you ask through your pleasure-filled vocalizations.

“fuck no,” he exhales, gripping your hips harder, a deep flush coloring his sweaty face that he’s grateful you can’t see.

“then fuck me harder, daddy,” you whine. the pet name sends stiles into a frenzy all over again and his load threatens to spill itself into the condom buried in your heat. he musters every bit of stamina he possesses and rails you even harder, his soft tip sending shockwaves of pleasure through you every time it slams into your cervix.

the euphoria builds until your knees are shaking and you’ve gone lightheaded. you feel the brink of your orgasm teeter in your core, fresh white sparks exploding in your spotty vision.

“come on y/n, cum for daddy. cum on my cock, princess, i wanna feel it,” he grunts out, his short fingernails digging into your hips as his rhythm continues.

“stiles…i-” is all you can choke out before it finally comes. your orgasm wracks your body with spasms that threatens to collapse your position entirely. stiles holds your body in place as your walls constrict even further, leaking your white liquids all over his rock-hard dick.

“oh, good girl, y/n,” stiles praises, rubbing a hand over your stomach gently. “did you have fun?” he asks in a tone bordering between condescending and sincere.

“yes,” you whisper, utterly dick-matized.

“good, good, you felt fucking amazing, princess,” he pulls himself out of your pussy, watching your cum slowly leak out of your swollen hole as he removes the soiled condom, “fuck, you came hard,” he marvels, reaching his fingers forward to feel your wetness as you lay yourself flat on the bed. you twitch slightly at the contact of his fingers on your too-sensitive cunt.

“i-i kinda needed that,” you confess sheepishly, your cheek still flat on the mattress.

“oh, trust me; i know,” stiles reassures in a knowing tone, sitting at the head of the bed next to your prone form. he places a warm hand on your back, drawing small circles on your flesh with his thumb. many minutes of silence only punctuated by the background music of the party on the floor below you pass until you realize something.

“wait, did you cum?” you ask, lifting your head. stiles laughs gingerly.

“uh, no,” he admits quietly.

“wait, what??” you ask, more incredulous this time. you push yourself upwards and turn to face him, “how the fuck did you not cum?” you demand.

“what the fuck do you mean?” he responds, his tone slightly bewildered.

“you’re a teenage boy and you just railed me for like,” you check the alarm clock on the bedside table and realize you have no idea how long you’ve been laying face down so the time doesn’t help you. you decide to make a rough guesstimate of, “twenty minutes and you’re telling me you didn’t cum?”

“i have incredible stamina,” he smirks, amused at your shock.

“what are you, god? i mean i used to think i was lucky if i could get my ex to fuck me for five minutes without busting. i mean, your dopamine receptors must be fucking fried or something,” you mutter intensely, getting off the bed and kneeling beside it, using your hands to pull stiles knees towards you. he chuckles with a far-off look in his eyes and then realizes what you’re doing.

“wait, what’s happening?” he questions, his tone suddenly uneasy.

“i’m gonna suck your dick, lucky you,” you mutter sarcastically, moving your hand to grab stiles’ manhood.

“uhhh,” he mutters, his facial expression slightly panicked.

“you good? sorry i thought you’d want this,” you ask concerned, removing your hand swiftly.

“no i do! trust me, y/n, i really,” he leans forward, maintaining his burning eye contact, “really do. i just-um,” he falters again, his unflappable confidence failing him.

“stiles it’s fine, i’ll leave, i get it,” you respond, going to stand up.

“no no, wait, please, uh, please don’t leave,” he pleads, guilt coloring his tone as he scrunches up his face in discomfort, “i really want that, i just don’t think it’ll work,” you lower yourself back to your knees.

“‘don’t think it’ll work’? it’s not rocket science, stilinski,” you mutter incredulously and stiles rolls his eyes. 

you keep yours fixed on his face as your hands find his shaft once more. you watch his face go from concerned to at ease as you stroke him slowly, feeling the blood rush back in as he once again becomes stiff from arousal. stiles slides his knees slightly further apart and when you lower your head you look up into his eyes. he meets yours with a lustful gaze and gives a small nod, which you take as your cue to take him in your mouth.

stiles’ breath hitches in his throat and his right hand easily threads its slightly shaking fingers through your hair. you meticulously swirl your tongue over his shaft, feeling the subtle twitches of his body as he reacts to you hitting the sweet spot of nerves right under the tip. you look up at his face to see he’s once again gone red in the face, his pink lips parted slightly.

once you feel he’s nice and warmed up, you begin slowly sucking on his shaft, taking him deeper and deeper down your throat. 

“fucking hell, y/n,” stiles can’t help but mutter and you wink up at him with watery eyes. the knot in stiles stomach begins to unravel and arousal overtakes him. whimpers fall from his lips as you take his entire length, your lips brushing slightly against his well-groomed pubic hair. he feels his orgasm teetering precariously, growing closer with every slight jab to the back of your throat.

“jesus, princess, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans, bucking his hips forward slightly. but as soon as the wave of pleasure washes over him, it soon subsides, and stiles finds himself feeling slightly empty as you continue your task so earnestly it almost makes him feel guilty. he positions both his hands on your cheeks and gingerly pulls your mouth off his cock.

“what happened?” you ask, wiping your mouth quickly, disappointed at the sudden disconnect.

“nothing, y/n, nothing. i’m just kinda drunk and also exhausted and i just don’t think it’s gonna happen,” stiles explains carefully, almost as if he’s rehearsed this exact speech before. the words sound hollow as they leave his throat. he grabs his boxers from the ground and pulls them up himself hastily. “i’m sorry,” he mutters in a tone that’s much more genuine.

“you’re fine,” you say reflexively, kneeling on the ground to locate your own clothes. you then realize you should probably be more reassuring. “but like, i mean it. like it’s all good, that’s understandable,” you continue, your voice warmer as you pull your own underwear back on. “i’d say call me, but we both know you won’t,” you add and stiles smiles knowingly as he pulls his t-shirt on.

“i will,” he nods slightly as his head reappears.

“come the fuck on, stilinski. i’m cheerleader number-what number are you on now? like, thirty-five?” you ask incredulously and stiles remains completely unbothered by your comment.

“something like that,” he confesses easily, reaching down to pull his jeans up as you hook your bra behind your back.

“so i am not at all special and you don’t need to pretend you’re going to call,” you finish with bravado and stiles grin deepens.

“i will call you…” he starts earnestly. he buckles his belt easily, the muscles in his hands flexing rather devilishly as he takes several steps towards you. you straighten out the dress you just pulled over your head and meet his eyeline, “...the question is whether you’re going to pick up,” he finishes, pointing a finger lazily in your face.

“you take care of the first part and i’ll see what i can do about the second,” you retort quickly, your tone completely aloof now. stiles sticks out his right hand and you reluctantly give him yours, shaking it in one quick motion.

“deal, princess,” he coos and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as he unlocks and opens the bedroom door for you, once again watching your hips sway as you exit.

~~~~~~~~(<-*->)~~~~~~~~

[pyxxiestyxx]

Tears

The group of feralists sat huddled together in the room, a pack of frightened beasts more than a group of hardened warriors. The room was ringed by affini after affini in nearly every shape and size you could imagine. None of them have moved, save to gently push Old Tom back when he tried to book it out the only exit.

So we sat in our "defensive formation" for almost half an hour before the leader came. Introduced herself as Captain Arythis, Twenty-Seventh Bloom.

Unfortunately, by the time she finished introducing herself, you had been roughly shoved out of the group, falling to your hands and knees in front of her. The terrified voice of your Captain rang out shortly after, a single sentence:

"You can take them to eat, just let the rest of us go!"

Your mind spun on itself, realizing the crew you had dutifully served on for years had just literally thrown you to your doom. You weren't sure what else to do…it was all too overwhelming.

So you cried.

You hadn't cried since you were sixteen, when your friends had abandoned you for being too "different" than them. You had vowed never to show that weakness again, and it had carried you far. But this was just too damn much. It wasn't…it wasn't fair, damnit!

You didn't want to die! And you didn't want to die….alone.

And then you heard a soft exhale, almost a sigh but with compassion instead of annoyance. You were scooped up carefully, too exhausted to even wriggle, as you looked into the much closer face of the Captain. She began to pet you, carding her fingers through your hair…and shifting your wails of fear to moans of comfort.

"Awww, poor thing. Don't worry little one, I have you. Let's go get you some food. Would you like some cookies and milk? Here, lets get you a blankie, too. We can go sit somewhere quiet while you get things all out."

It wasn't the last time you cried that night, or that week, or even that month. But it was the last time you had to cry alone.

[tgcg]

happy day of egbert

CG: DON'T YOU JUST HAVE THE MANUAL SOMEWHERE?

TG: dude its the most overwhelmingly basic thing on the planet trust me i literally did all the other settings for you

TG: all you gotta do is point the thing at egbert

TG: half press to focus subject

TG: press down fully and bam done the shit is shot

CG: BUT --

TG: i know youre desperate for this to be rocket science but its genuinely like first grade biz i promise whatever pic you take is gonna be fine

===

EB: yeah, come on karkat!

EB: i am only going to be the birthday bad ass for like, 24 hours total you know.

EB: longest birthday of my LIIIIIIIIFE. haha.

EB: oh hey, from one birthday-dooms day guy to another…

EB: i am pretty sure you understand the magnitude of what i just said!

===

CG: OH HEY. FUCK YOU.

CG: I'M JUST ACCOUNTING FOR THE LITERAL FUCKING INEVITABILITY THAT WHEN I TAKE THIS PHOTO, SOME INSIDIOUS LITTLE KARMA GNOME WILL FROLIC ONTO THE SCENE IN AN UNBELIEVABLE STROKE OF LOATHSOME SERENDIPITY TO BURY ME IN 12 CUBIC METERS OF FOOL-GRADE FUCKING IDIOT POWDER.

CG: AT WHICH POINT ANOTHER HEFTY BOULDER WILL BE ADDED TO THE BULGING MACRO-BINDLE OF SHAME YOU PEOPLE HAVE FORCED ME INTO CARRYING MY WHOLE LIFE.

CG: SHIT, SOMEONE HAS GOTTA LOOK OUT FOR MY ASS.

TG: alright give us a sec

TG: huddle formation

EB: psssshhh, alright.

===

TG: youre not gonna fuck this up

TG: your ass is completely secure dude

TG: i got the double foam padded booster seat and you know that shit is strapped on this 5mph drive through quaint ol piss-easyville

EB: you know if it really is so bad you can just re-take it, right?

EB: it is really not worth aggravationing your sponge over.

TG: 'xactly

TG: knights honor that shit isnt hooked up to my ishades and will not instantly forward me a copy in crisp HD of whatever blunder youre cooking in your beautiful nugbone

===

CG: IT'S NOT JUST THAT.

CG: HAVEN'T I SHADOWED YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY SHENANIGANS LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU TO TOSS ME A GODDAM BONE?

CG: I MEAN. I FEEL LIKE I'M READY FOR THIS. I'VE BEEN PRIMED FOR THIS BULLSHIT FOR EQUINOXES AT THIS POINT, WATCHING YOU PRANCE AROUND WITH THIS FUCKING THING.

TG: woah wait youre legit into it?

CG: YES, I AM LEGIT FUCKING INTO IT.

CG: AND I KNOW IT HAS SETTINGS YOU'RE HIDING FROM ME. WHAT IF I WANT TO TAKE A BLACK AND WHITE SHOT, HUH? WHAT IF I WANT TO ADJUST THE "APERTURE" OR THE "EXPOSURE" OR SOMETHING.

TG: alright i dig the enthusiasm but maybe we can unwrap that shit when we dont have someone waiting for us

TG: i didnt know you were scoping photography man you shoulda said something!

CG: I WAS PLANNING TO! I DIDN'T ENVISION IT COMING UP SO FRIGGIN SUDDENLY MAN.

TG: i promise ill open the pandoras fuckin box of snap addicts anonymous afterwards alright

===

CG: OK, FINE. BUT I AM HOLDING YOU TO THA --

===

CG: HA HA EGBERT. VERY FUCKING FUNNY.

CG: FOR YOUR SAKE I SERIOUSLY HOPE THIS IS JUST AN EMBARRASSING NOSTALGIA-DRIVEN LAPSE IN HUMOR AND NOT A GENUINE ATTEMPT TO "PRANK" ME. I REALLY DO!

EB: huh? who is this "egbert" you speak of? i have never heard of such a character.

CG: OH, JUST THIS BULGECRUD-HUFFING IMBECILE THAT FALLS BACK ON SHITTY PRACTICAL JOKES SO PLAYED-OUT THAT THEY PHYSICALLY HURT TO BEAR WITNESS TO.

CG: MY LOWER JAW IS THREATENING TO REVERSE-DROP WITH ENOUGH VELOCITY TO BURROW DIRECTLY INTO MY THOUGHT SPONGE, KILLING ME INSTANTLY.

CG: SO EITHER GET SOME NEW MATERIAL OR GET ME TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM, YOUR PICK.

EB: damn, ok. that does sound like some pretty serious bullshit, but…

===

EB: whoever that weirdo next to you is kind of seems like he needs medical resistance more than you do!

CG: WHAT

[nyxxxatnite]

Part 2 for poison??? Where he goes back to reader for another hook up but this time he needs to be close to her. Like legs wrapped around him and her hands in his hair while he practically latches himself onto you. Smut smut smut. He secretly really likes her but doesn’t want anyone to know yk keeping up with his asshole facade

antidote (poison pt2)

Plot: last time should have been the last time, just like he said. But when he comes crawling back, needier than ever you can’t help but come back pt.1

Pairings: asshole!Wally Clark x loner!fem!reader, alive!wally x alive!reader

warning(s): the obvious SMUT!, fluffy end, wally actually ends up being nice and in love? Characters are 18!!! Unprotected sex (WRAP IT), public sex!! Creampie!! Fucking POORLY written. NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: HI GUYS. okay so ik its been a minute 💀 im sorry i usually pump these out and get serious writers block but im TRYING. okay i also know you said to keep him an asshole but i NEEDED fluff!! Enjoy!

Finding yourself at the schools Friday night football game was NOT on your agenda, but you couldn’t help it. You felt drawn in and one of your newer friends BEGGED you to go with her so you did, reluctantly. The stands were PACKED with parents, siblings and other family members along with almost ALL of your classmates. Had football really been THIS popular?

you gave a low groan as you ducked and weaved through the crowd, trying not to get hit or bumped into. It wasn’t working out very well. Small sorry’s left your mouth as you finally wormed your way into your seat next to Julie, who was already teeming with energy.

“ i’m so excited. Monrovia has ALWAYS been a tougher team to beat, hopefully this year with Wally we can beat them. ”

At the mention of his name you tensed, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in what seemed like months (more so a week or two). A part of you, deep down ached for him, while the other part tried to keep you reasoned that he was the one that ended everything, he wanted nothing to do with you. And yet…somehow it felt like he still wanted you. None of the athletics (cheerleaders and football players) even stopped to say anything to you, or tease you about something so small. They just went on their merry way. Had he said something to them?

“ uh hello? Did you hear me? Wally’s looking at you! "

a small shake to your shoulders finally snapped you from your thoughts as your eyes moved to finally make eye contact with said football player. He was finally on the field after their introduction and was staring right at you from his huddle with his team. Once the both of you made eye contact he quickly looked away and popped his helmet on.

you shook your head, blinking yourself back to reality. What was his deal? The buzzers from the score board sounded, commencing the start of the first quarter of the game. The crowd around you buzzed to life in cheers as the boys got into formation after the coin toss, cementing that Monrovia would be starting with the ball. The first kick off was a strong one, sending the ball soaring to the back of the split river formation.

and like that the game set off into a very close, neck to neck game. One team would score and then the other would quickly swoop in and tie with their own touchdown. Everyone around you was on edge, Julie was screaming chants with the student section, making fun of the team and the other student section. You just sat quiet and cheered quietly when your team would score, trying not to burn in embarrassment. But slowly got into the energy of it all, starting to cheer in the last quarter of the game.

within the last few seconds of the game you shot up from your seat, cupping your hands around your mouth as you shouted.

“ GET THAT BALL TO THE END ZONE, WALLY! ”

His attention turned to you for only a second before something inside him amped up, making him sprint and dodge around the other team a bit faster. within the last second his feet finally landed in the end zone, signifying that they had scored the winning points and FINALLY got their hands on the win over Monrovia after years of losing. Loud screams and cheers erupted from the stands around you, the band immediately kicked in with their anthem as the team on the field flocked the quarter back in the end zone.

loud whoops and chants sounded from the boys as they hopped and shook with Wally in their arms, the other team standing dejectedly to the side, feeling the stab of loss from years of winning. You cheered loudly with your classmates, laughing happily as your friend latched onto you.

“ its like he HEARD you! You’re a fucking lucky charm! ”

she squealed happily and shook you, excitement bubbling from her as she darted off to some of her other friends to talk to them. Your attention finally turned back to the football team, seeing the ever happy Wally grinning and congratulating his teammates. His eyes then turned to you, a smirk playing at his lips as he sent you a wink. Butterflies seemed to spring from nowhere in your stomach at the motion, turning to look and see if he was sending it to anyone else, but no one else was paying any attention to the team. You looked back at him again and watched him mouth “stay after”, seeming to mean after the stadium cleared out.

After about an hour of waiting, almost everyone was cleared out of the stadium, lights beginning to shut off. You slowly started to lose hope he’d actually come talk to you, or even if he was still there. You carefully tossed your hood up as it started to drizzle, then pour. You sighed and turned, starting to walk toward the gates when a loud whistle echoed from the dressing rooms. Your head snapped to the source, seeing Wally walk out of the building. He was in his after game attire, hair in messy curls atop his head from the sweat and rain finally hitting his head.

you paused and crossed your arms, trying to keep up your “i hate you” mindset. But seeing him there after weeks made your knees feel like jello. What the fuck was going on in your head?! You tilted your head and watched as he got closer, making you step back

“ didn’t think you’d come to a game. But then i saw you in the stands, dressed in the schools colors with MY number of all numbers painted on your cheek. ”

you scoffed as he finally stopped before you, rolling your eyes as you looked away from him. She painted his number on your cheek? Did she know about you two hooking up or was this one of her dumb “he’s cute” things.

“ yeah, i didn’t paint this on, Julie did. Like hell id risk getting made fun of just to wear your number, Clark. "

He hissed in fake pain as you snapped at him, scrunching his face a bit to add to it. He chuckled and without a word tugged you close but your waist. You gasped in surprise as your chest collided with his, feeling the clothing start to get soaked from the heavy rain. What the hell was he doing?

“ you should wear it more often. Fuck all the time actually. Look..i was a fucking dumbass for pushing you away. Not being able to be near you drove me mad and made me realize some shit that i didn’t want to face. ”

your eyes widened as you realized he was about to confess his feelings. Were you even ready for that? Before he could even say another word you pushed yourself up and kissed him roughly, cupping the back of his head as you tried to keep him from saying anything. A small grunt sounded from the other as he immediately held onto your waist, keeping you close to his body.

the kiss started heated and just continued to stay that way, tongues meshing together in the middle as hands wondered each others bodys. And with hands wandering, came clothes starting to be removed. Were you about to fuck on the football field? You couldn’t really care less, you just needed him now. Moving yourself down onto the soaking grass, you felt him moved between your legs and carefully slip a hand between the two of you.

a small gasp leaves your mouth as he rubs at your clit for a moment, letting you get adjusted and wet enough for him to slip his fingers into your soaking center. Your eyes rolled back a bit from the stretch of his long fingers. Thank fuck for this lanky man, being blessed EVERYWHERE. small moans slipped from your lips as he pumped and curled his fingers in and out of you. Getting you nice and stretched was something he’s never done so it was a nice little change, it made your heart flutter in an odd way?

after a few minutes of prepping you he pulled his fingers out and used whatever wetness he had to lube himself just enough to carefully slip into your awaiting cunt, his eyes rolling back at the hug of your walls. Another gasp came from your throat as he slid inside of you, your hands clambering to grip onto his back to have some sort of tether to earth. He grunted and held still for a second, kissing along your neck and throat, arms winding around your middle to keep you close to him.

As much as your mind was SCREAMING at you to get the hell off the ground, you felt like you were in heaven. Especially when he started to finally fuck his cock in and out of your hot cunt. Moans and groans intertwined from the two of you as you fucked on the football field, rain poured around the two of you, drowning out your sounds so only the two of you could hear. You made an attempt to open your eyes, only to be met with Wally already looking at you. You whimpered softly and drew your eyebrows together, keeping eye contact as you moaned louder. Watching his face morph with pleasure at your sounds, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

He carefully reached between the two of you, rubbing at your clit as he continued to pound into you. The knot in your stomach starting to tighten, feeling it start to verge on snapping. Your eyes rolled back a bit as it all began to be too much for you to even handle.

“ thats it baby, cum for me. Fuck, please cum. ”

he groaned out and placed his forehead to yours, feeling himself near his end as well. With a few final snaps into you, he was releasing everything he had into your awaiting cunt. And once you felt his load fill you, you threw your head back into the ground and cried out as you came not to far behind him. He kept his hips rocking, just to ride out your highs before slowly pulling out of you. He pushed himself up a bit and panted, looking at the absolute mess you were below him making him give a breathy chuckle.

“ we should probably hit the showers, babe. Were an absolute mess. ”

you slowly nodded your head, the after sex high still buzzing in your brain. You let him do what he needed, meaning letting him carry your naked form into the locker rooms to wash the both of you off. It was absolute silence as you stood under the water, somehow more awkward than the times before. Was it because of what he was going to say?

after washing off, you held the towel you were offered tight to your body. Finally registering that your clothes were out on the field still, ruined by the rain and the mud. But it was like Wally read your mind, carefully pulling out some extra clothes he had stuff away in his locker. You tugged on the sweat pants and the hoodie he offered you, humming softly at the warmth of them. He tugged on his own pair of sweats and a tank top, slowly turning to you as he shrugged on his letterman.

“ look…i..fuck. Okay so..i really like you. And i know saying that doesn’t really make up for how i treated you, but it just happened. I realized it when we fucked in the supply closet. And i understand if you don’t feel the same, i just really wanted to tell you. ”

you threw your hand up and covered his mouth to keep him from sputtering on anymore than he was, watching his cheeks and ears go red from embarrassment. You gave a soft giggle as you stared up at him, tilting your head a bit.

“ i like you too dumbass. As much as i hate that i fell for you, i did. ”

he visibly relaxed and moved your hand, tugging you closer as he carefully kissed you. This time keeping it gentle, full of passion. You could really get used to this sweet side Wally had hid away.

[fairygodsystem]

Do you have any system names for just the grouping that aren't system or collective?

We are really wanting a one worded collective name

♡ Alternatives to "system" or "collective" Master-list ♡

Association　　Assembly　　Aggregation　　Assemblage　　Assortment　　Array　　Alliance

Band　　Body　　Batch　　Battery　　Bunch　　Bundle　　Battalion　　Bracket　　Brigade

Class　　Club　　Chain　　Circle　　Crew　　Collection　　Cluster　　Clutch　　Clique　　Clump　　Clot　　Combine　　Conglomerate　　Congregation　　Crew　　Crowd　　Company　　Collaborative　　Communal　　Cooperative　　Common　　Corporation　　Compilation　　Collation　　Caboodle　　Convocation　　Cumulation　　Constellation　　Clan　　Consort　　Crop　　Coalition　　Classification　　Conspiracy　　Cabal　　Coven　　Corps

Division

Establishment　　Enterprise

Faction　　Function　　Formation　　Foundation　　Fellows　　Fellowship　　Family　　Force

Group　　Gathering　　Grade　　Gaggle　　Grouping　　Gild　　Guild　　Genus　　Generation

Herd　　Horde　　Hoard　　Heap　　Huddle　　Hodgepodge

Institute　　Institution

Lot　　League　　Legion　　Layout　　Lads

Mass　　Medley　　Mess　　Miscellany　　Mobilization　　Muster　　Mess　　Melt　　Mutual　　Mob

Number　　Network

Operation　　Outfit　　Order

Platoon　　Party　　Parcel　　Posse　　Phalanx　　Pack　　Personnel　　Pile

Round　　Ring

School　　Squad　　Squadron　　Set　　Species　　Syndicate　　Staff　　Stack　　Stock　　Suite

Team　　Troop　　Trust

Union

Variety

[kxsagi]

Hey kxsagi😜😘

Out of all the Football clubs in the NEL arc I think Ubers is on the very top for me b/c I just LOVEEEE the way they play against their opponents and the relationship and dynamics they have with each other! Aiku and Sendou are such a duo, my boy niko is such a little brother coded in the team, Don Lorenzo is such an underrated character frfr and also him and Snuffy's father and son like dynamic is so adorable🥺🥺 I'd love to hear your hcs on them.

Ty in advance😘😘💥

“𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬”

a/n: YESSS ubers supremacy!!! as much as i love bastard munchen, you have absolutely elite taste because ubers has so much heart, honestly it’s like mafia tactics meet found family. their loyalty, structure, and the way they all look out for each other (while still playing to win) makes them so unique compared to the other teams and i am so here for it 🫡

also decided to do this in a different format! 

(their team name ubers reminds me of that one meme where it’s like “uh i never went to oovoo javer” 💀)

ubers team general headcanons

everyone on the team secretly knows they’re the “organized crime” themed squad. they lean into it. their pre-game huddles sound like mafia sitdowns. “you don’t go down unless i say so,” aiku announces, while sendou nods like he’s his consultant. niko has no idea what that means but he goes, “got it, boss.” 

snuffy runs a tight ship, but never disrespects anyone. his “fatherly” energy isn’t loud – it’s quiet, composed, and deeply respectful. he cooks post-match meals like a literal dad. big “who wants more steak?” energy. the boys make fun of him but never to his face because they all lowkey adore him. 

when it comes to chores, niko does the dishes. reluctantly. because the last time sendou did them, aiku got food poisoning + lorenzo is banned from the kitchen because he once tried to make “gains ramen” which was just protein powder, boiled chicken, and pre-workout. snuffy had to call poison control. 

their team group chat is horrific. aiku sends gym thirst traps with captions like “morning motivation.” sendou sends cursed memes at 3 AM (niko replies with “please stop”). snuffy sends quotes from philosophers like “a man who conquers himself is mightier than he who conquers a city.” everyone reacts with 🫡. lorenzo only sends selfies and flex pics with random motivational phrases like “get money, stay jacked.” 

aiku oliver & sendou daiya – the menace duo

literally the worst pair to be seated near on team trips. they will prank everyone. lorenzo once woke up with his chains braided. niko caught it on camera and it went viral in the ubers gc. 

sendou tries to act cool around girls but somehow always fumbles. aiku lets him crash and burn every time. “you’re doing amazing, sweetie,” he deadpans as sendou gets rejected for calling someone “m’lady.” 

despite their chaos, they always have each other’s backs on the field. aiku trusts sendou’s instincts, and sendou follows aiku’s leads without question. it’s instinctual, like they’re synced. they don’t even need to talk sometimes, they just know. 

niko ikki – baby of the team

everyone thinks niko’s this quiet little strategist, but he’s also the most chronically online member of ubers. he runs their meme account anonymously. only snuffy knows. snuffy lets it slide because niko always includes respectful captions under snuffy edits like “our king 🫡” 

lorenzo calls him “kid.” sendou calls him “baby bro.” aiku once called him “squirt” and niko didn’t speak to him for a week. but deep down he’s grateful because he’s never had this kind of camaraderie before. 

sometimes he’ll be sulking in a corner after a rough game and snuffy just walks over, sits down beside him, and hands him a juice box. “you did good, kid.” niko cries. silently. every time. 

don lorenzo – chaos incarnate, misunderstood legend

he eats protein powder raw. sendou dared him once to snort it. he did. it was not a good day. 

he’s rich. obscenely so. he always flashes his gold teeth and quotes, “i only trust two things: muscle and money.” he funds team bonding trips without blinking. his idea of bonding? paintball war in the woods. 

has the softest spot for niko and treats him like a tiny feral cat he found outside and adopted. “he’s scrappy. he’s got instincts. he’s family now.” niko just blinks like 🧍🏻 

snuffy and lorenzo have a dad and rebellious teen son energy. snuffy’s constantly like “don’t do anything stupid,” and lorenzo’s like “no promises, papà.” but whenever snuffy’s serious, lorenzo listens like a soldier. no matter how wild he acts, he respects snuffy like a father figure. 

snuffy – the dad of the year

gives out the gentlest life lectures. “football’s like pasta, boys. you gotta boil under pressure to get good.” everyone’s like “… what?” but then they do get good. 

refuses to raise his voice. instead, he lowers it. when he’s disappointed, everyone feels like they just let down their entire lineage. 

he makes each player write down their goals and reviews them monthly. lorenzo once wrote “get more gains and less enemies.” snuffy nodded like that was a valid mission statement. 

if you cry in front of him, he’ll give you a side hug and pat your back once. just once. but it’ll heal you emotionally. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ party 4 u ⋆⭒˚.⋆

a/n: bit of a weird format here, but basically every little blurb starting with "party on you" is an extension/new version of Jaehyun's POV of angsty and cute moments from the linked fics (except for one) set pre-official relationship

-

I'm about to party on you

watch me, watch me, party on you

yeah

party on you

(extra from when the fratboy falls)

It's the first time fratboy!Jaehyun has even talked to you. He's just chased you through the library to beg for your help in a class he didn't even want to take. His phone is back in his own hand and you're still standing in front of him.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what or why, but there's just something keeping him from walking away immediately. Jaehyun can't pull his eyes away from yours. He's entranced by the way they sparkle and gleam in the low light of the slowly sinking sun. You look like you're glowing.

You smile shyly, nodding slowly, almost awkwardly, "I guess I'll talk to you soon."

He gulps and nods silently, lifting his hand in what has to be the lamest and saddest wave goodbye.

You wave at him from over your shoulder with a soft smile as you walk away. Jaehyun stands there at the foot of the stairs feeling his heart pound in his chest and a shortness of breath he's never felt before.

party on you

(extra from when the fratboy falls)

It's Taeyong who comes rushing into the backyard, grabbing his phone while he mumbles on about getting you home. Jaehyun is on his feet the second he hears your name. It's like nothing else matters when he hears that you're leaving.

He can't even remember what he asks when he sees you standing in the front yard with tears in your eyes. Then you're walking away and he feels his heart stop. He doesn't know what he did, but he knows he needs to fix it. Fast

Then you're turning to look at him and you look angry and your words aren't fully registering in his mind. He's really trying to understand your anger and where you're coming from but he's never been more lost in his life.

But then you're asking him why he never told you and your eyes are filled with tears again. Jaehyun is just wondering what is so wrong about what the guys could have told you? Did they tell you that he likes you? You're mad about him liking you? Is that a bad thing?

Now you're yelling about his girlfriend and he just stops, wrapping his hand around your wrist as he asks, "at the risk of sounding like a dick, who is she?”

You throw your hands up and yell something about him having a girlfriend again and then you yell something about having feelings for him and he chokes, "you like me back?"

party on-party on you

The lights are flashing around the party and Jaehyun immediately regrets allowing Jungwoo to gets his hands on a fog machine. The air is already thick from people refusing to smoke outside and the thick crowd of people.

Jaehyun waits in the opening from the living room to the hallway with a drink in his hand. Johnny stands beside him talking about something... maybe something about someone spiking the punch. Jaehyun really can't even be sure if he's being honest, his eyes are focused on the hazy crowd keeping an eye out for something specific. Someone. You.

Then he sees it. He sees the sea of gyrating bodies parting as you elbow your way through. There's a can in one hand and a cup in the other. You have a focused look on your face as you try your best to keep yourself from knocking into anyone too harshly.

There's a buzzing in his brain that calms immediately at the sight of you. You're not even walking to him directly. Ari and Kira are just a few feet away, head huddled in their own conversation, but you're here because of him. You're here because he invited you.

He can feel a smile spread across his lips at the memory of you greeting him with a hug and a shy kiss on the cheek. A kiss that he turned into a kiss on the lips. He'd cupped your cheek and drawn you in for a short, but sweet press of your lips. He liked being able to kiss you any time he wanted now. He loved it.

He can see you exhale in relief as you finally make your way through the crowd and over to the hang out area. The lights are strobing. Blue to green and back.

It's like it happens in slow motion as you walk past him. Your eyes meet, his breath catches at the all new dimensions that the colored lights reveal. There's a whole new depth of beauty to you under the lights that he once thought were stupid.

Kira takes the can from your hand and you break away from her to find Jaehyun's side. You press a hand to his chest and wrap your other arm around his neck. He shivers as a drop of condensation drips onto the back of his neck.

Your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, "this is really fun! Thanks for inviting us."

He turns his head to look at you with a smile that anyone else would describe as lovestruck. He smooths a hand over the back of your head to flatten your hair that was tussled by the mob of party-goers. "Yeah," he nods, pressing his lips to your forehead, "it is really fun."

party on you

(extra from this)

Jaehyun knows that he's slept with a good amount of people. A lot of people, most would say. He's changed because of you, though. He hasn't so much as looked at another woman since you and him decided to embark on your relationship together, well, not official relationship together.

He ignores all his former partners, he doesn't text anyone back, he ignores his DMs, and he shuts down any form of flirting. That doesn't mean that you won't hear about it though. He hates that trudge over to him with a pout on your face and how you refuse to meet his eye.

He doesn't know what happened, but he knows he doesn't like it, "tell me what you're thinking of, sweet girl."

Your next words hit him like a punch to the gut: "how many girls have you slept with here?"

The argument that follows isn't one that feels good, but it's an argument that needed to happen. He needed to reassure you and you needed to get there worries off your chest. He knows he's being stubborn about the titles and the state of your relationship, but that doesn't mean that he's ready to lose you. If an argument is whats needed to show you that he'll fight for you, then that's what he'll do.

He feels rush of relief as you sigh and then laugh. His heart stutters right in his chest as he feels the warmth of your hand on his shoulder, even if it's just a shove, "you better pull some new tricks out of your sleeve when we finally sleep together, and I want to see that tongue thing!”

He laughs it off, pulling you into his embrace as he feels his heart rate finally start to slow down and return to normal, "whatever you want, sweetheart, whatever you want.”

party on-party on you

(extra from when the party's over)

Jaehyun stands eerily still as you gather your things. You're reaching for every trace of you that your tear filled eyes can find with shaky hands. You're grabbing your backpack and slipping on your shoes.

He hates himself. He fucking hates the person he's become and the words that came out of his mouth. There's a bitter taste in his mouth like the words that he just spoke are poisonous.

The door slams shut and he hunches over, his eyes filling with tears and he clutches a hand right over his heart. His words hurt you, his words cause him pain, but knowing that he's the cause of your anguish and your distress hurts even more.

He holds his hands over his face as he slides down the wall of his room. His room that feels too cold, too small, too suffocating. His room that he now hates because it's the place where he fucked it all up. He wishes it were further, he wishes he couldn't hear your choked sobs as you ran down the hallway. But he can hear it and it's the last confirmation he needs to know that he's the worst man who has ever existed.

[bartxnhood]

blown away | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Is it possible to request a Tyler fic where he and reader are in an established relationship, she knows what his job is like. And they get separated during the big tornado that blows through at the end of the movie. Desperate for a toothrotting soft and angsty reunion.

warnings: depictions of tornado, reader gets a few cuts a scrapes, maybe a swear word or two.

w/c: 823

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

“okay, baby” tyler begins, shutting the back door on the passenger side of his truck. “we’re headin out”

he turns around to face you, his hands resting on your hips. you frown as you drape your arms over his shoulders. “m’gonna miss you” you say. tyler smiles, “i’ll be back, promise” he said, then leaned in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “always come back to you” he says in between the kiss.

“m’gonna go to the farmers market later, call me when yer comin home. kay?” your hands intertwined with the hair on the naps of his neck.

“mhm” he hums, leaning in to kiss you again. his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

you giggle in between the kisses, his hands squeeze your ass in a playful manner. “ty!” you pull away, face red.

“what? can’t i show a little appreciation?” he teases, raising his eyebrows. you shake your head, “you’re something else.”

“you be safe, kay?” tyler asks, and you nod. “i always am, babe.” you assure with a peck on his cheek.

“don’t keep the crew waitin.”

the small town was bustling with activity as the farmers market was in full swing. the town square was filled with stands selling fresh produce, handcrafted goods, and home-cooked food.

farmers and merchants from neighboring towns had set up stands to sell their goods. the air was filled with the sound of people bartering and chatting with each other.

children squealed and ran around, playing games and sampling treats from the vendors. the small town was a picturesque scene of rural life on a beautiful spring day.

but, it changed in an instant.

the fierce winds howled like an angry beast as the destructive tornado ripped through the town, leaving a path of destruction and chaos in its wake. the twister tore through buildings, uprooted trees, and sent debris flying through the air.

amidst the chaos, you found ducked into the theater as the tornado roared towards the town. the doors slammed shut behind you, cutting you off from the outside world. you looked around, seeing people huddled together, kids crying, and people crying and screaming.

the only light coming from the emergency lights that faintly illuminated the aisles. as the wind howled outside, you could hear the windows of the theater crack and break, and the sound of chairs and other objects being tossed about.

in the distance, you could hear the sound of people calling out names, no doubt other people who had sought shelter in the theater.

the stormed roared like some sort of beast, ripping the foundations from the theater.

it was truly a horrific sight, people were getting swept away from their loved ones. ear piercing screams and wailing accompanied the roaring storm.

you watched the scene unfold, unsure if you’d be walking out of there alive. you peer your head above one of the theater seats and watch as the wall was ripped away, swallowed by the storm.

“oh, mygod..” you breathe and hunker back down and cover your head with your arms. just like tyler had taught you to do.

tyler finally arrived in the midst of a chaotic situation. he knew you were somewhere nearby. despite the chaos and danger all around, his focus was on only one thing: finding you.

he navigated through the debris-filled streets, scanning the surroundings for any sign of you.

the roaring wind and ominous darkness made it difficult to see anything clearly, but he pushed forward, determined to find you.

tyler knew he was too late, the town was almost flattened. trees uprooted, buildings gone, debris littered the streets.

he hopped out of his truck, the crew following behind him to help the people who fell victim to the storm.

“y/n?!” he hollers, watching people slowly emerge from the rubble.

“baby?!”

tyler finally spotted you walking out of what once was the theater. you look around, your face smeared with dirt and clothes torn, shivering slightly as you tried to regain your composure.

you look around the state of the city, hugging yourself and sniffling.

as he made his way towards you, he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. you looked up at him as he approached, and hour eyes widened in recognition before you stood up, launching yourself into his arms.

“oh, thank god.” he breaths, wrapping his arms around you. “you okay?” he pulls back to push some hair from your face to examine for any injuries.

“m’fine..” you nod. your eyes begin to water as you look up at him. “there was no warning..”

“i know, i know” he hushes your worries and pulls you back to your chest. “it’s okay, you’re okay now” he runs his fingers through your hair, swaying you two back and forth.

“we’ll get you checked out and then go home, kay?” he suggests and you nod. “mmkay.”

[nolovelingers]

I love ur writing sm. Could you please write a Billy or Stu fic? Thank u sm!

PUSH AND PULL, BABY! ⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧ stu macher

⠀⠀⠀ ︵ requested 𓈒 𓄧

⋆ ★ ex lovers rekindle their (constantly flickering) flame after stu is pushed towards confronting you upon seeing you with someone new.

cw ᝰ .ᐟ sfw ,, jealous!stu ,, ghostface!stu and billy ,, stu is intoxicated ,, several mentions of alc

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone sorry if funky format =)

in the dimly lit, smoke-filled living room, the atmosphere was electric with the energy of dozens of young, carefree souls lost in the throes of music and alcohol. the air hung heavy with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat and the tang of burning cigarettes. bodies swayed to the beat pulsing from the speakers, a mass of limbs and laughter in the flickering glow of the disco ball spinning lazily overhead.

the house was a sprawling two-story affair, its once-pristine walls now adorned with band posters, graffiti art, and the occasional drunken scrawl. the hardwood floors, long since stripped of their varnish, creaked and groaned beneath the weight of the revelers. the kitchen counters were littered with the night's worth of drinking - empty bottles, overflowing ashtrays, and the remnants of half-eaten snacks scattered across.

cordless lights strung haphazardly from the corners of the house and the still of the windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the scene below. the light played across the faces of the dancers; painting them in shades of blue, green and purple, their eyes reflecting the pulsing glow as they moved in time to the music. the air was thick with the acrid tang of marijuana that clung stubbornly to the life within the home.

groups huddled together, engaged in loud conversations. the distant sound of laughter and the occasional shout of drunken revelry; coming from two boys in particular.

stu, his eyes glazed and twitchy from god knows what, sidled up to billy amidst the writhing throng of bodies, pressing up (in billy’s opinion) way closer than he needed to be. he leaned in close, invading his personal space as macher tends to do, shouting over the cacophony of the party to be heard.

his eyes, bloodshot and manic in the disco lights, flicked over to billy with a drunken, lopsided grin. he had to grab billys shoulder to steady himself.

macher grinned maniacally, his eyes darting. "dude!" he hollered, slapping billy hard on the back, nearly knocking the shorter boy off balance. "this parties a fucking BLASTTTTTT! i fuckin' just- i fucking love these things, ya know?!" he gestured vaguely at the gyrating crowd, nearly tripping over his words.

billy scowled, stepping away from stu’s proximity. "jesus, macher. could you not breathe down my neck? and watch the fuckin' hands." he glared at stu’s grinning face.

stu giggled, a high pitched noise that cut through the thumping bass. “my bad, bro.” his grin doesn’t falter, if anything it seems to widen, hardly a trace of a thought behind his eyes. he held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like an idiot. "im just tryin' to spread the love, ya know?"

billy rolled his eyes, "more like spread the creep, you fuckin' weirdo." he shook his head in exasperation.

stu laughed, a high-pitched, almost hysterical sound. "creep? man, im just a lover, not a fighter." he punctuated his words with a clumsy, off-beat dance move, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. when he caught himself, he wound up swaying around in one place, his eyes stuck on the floor.

he seemed out of it all of a sudden, like he was reminded of something. “im a lover, bro.” his eyes stayed stuck on the floor for a while, dissociated in place.

billy eyed him in suspicion. "you dumbass." he crossed his arms. "what's the deal with you tonight, stu? you snort a whole fuckin' bag of crazy or somethin'?"

stu giggled again, a bit too loudly and with an edge that was almost unsettling. "nah man, just the usual shit. ya know, same as always." he waved a hand dismissively, but his grin was starting to look more like a grimace.

he was trying too hard, billy could tell. stu was always a bit of a wild card, sure, but this was different. he was acting even more erratically than usual, his eyes too wide and his laughter too high-pitched. billy had known stu for long enough to recognize the signs of something being off.

he was trying to distract himself, that much was clear. but from what? loomis’ brow furrowed as he studied his friend's stretched smile.

he was trying to act casual, but his body was coiled tight, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"you're being a fuckin' weirdo. more than normal. somethin's up with you." billy's voice was low and serious, his eyes narrowing as he studied stu's twitching face. he followed the way stu's gaze kept flicking to the doorway, to the spot where his (freshly) ex - y/n - had been standing by with a guy.

stu licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. he needed to change the subject. fast. "who, me? man, im just fuckin' lit, ya know?" he forced out another giggle, but it sounded hollow and false even to his own ears.

he was trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest, the way his skin felt too tight and too hot. he was trying to ignore the way his mind kept flashing back to the sight of you, all over that fuckin' prick's arm. that fuckin' prick who wasn't him. thatstupidfuckingprickwhothefuckevenisthisfuckingguywhyshisfacelooksofuckingstupidijustwanttofuckingkillhimwhatkindofoutfitevenisthat

stu could feel a pressure building in his chest, a tightness that had nothing to do with the beer he'd guzzled or the joints he'd smoked (or the things he’d snorted). it was a different kind of tightness. a squeezing, churning sensation that made it hard to breathe. he pressed a hand to his sternum, trying to will the feeling away, but it only seemed to intensify.

his hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as he pressed it harder against his chest. the pressure inside him was building to a crescendo. he could physically feel it pulsing through his veins, setting his nerve endings alight with a unstable energy.

"fuck, i can't stand seeing them together." stu’s voice was low and guttural, barely audible over the pounding bass. he completely seemed to forget about the fact that he was meant to be covering his jealousy in front of his friend. "it makes me wanna...fuck. I dunno what i wanna do to him exactly, but it's definitely bad." he laughed, but it was a harsh, bitter sound that had no joy in it whatsoever.

“i just wanna- i just wanna kill him. billy, let’s fucking kill him. should- should i talk to them? i should talk to them. i should go over there. billy, i gotta get over there.”

“take it easy, man, that’s a terrible idea, y’gotta chill the hell out first.”

he watched them from across the room, watched as you threw your head back and laughed at something your new boy toy had said. watched as you touched his arm, your fingers lingering on his bicep in a way that made stu's blood boil in his veins. he watched as you leaned in close, your faces inches apart as you whispered and flirted with each other.

it was too much. it was more than he could take. stu felt like he was going to explode, like he was going to tear apart at the seams from the force of his own rage and anguish. he couldn't stand it anymore. he couldn't watch you together, couldn't see you touching someone else, couldn't bear the thought of you smiling at anyone but him.

“fuck it,”

without thinking, stu pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes laser-focused on the ‘couple’ across the room. he marched up to you, his steps heavy , the manic and unstable ear to ear grin that had always lingered on his face returned.

stu sidled up to you, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light, smile eerie as ever. "hey there, lovebirds," he drawled, his voice dripping with false cheer. "having fun, are ya?"

he looked the guy dead in the eye, his gaze intense and unblinking. "i gotta say, man, it's pretty fuckin' ballsy of you to be all over my partner like this." stu’s voice took on a mocking, incredulous tone.

behind stu, billy rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head at his friend's reckless behavior. he knew stu was just trying to cover his jealousy with his typical macho bullshit, but he couldn't understand why he had to be so fuckin' obvious about it.

stu watched with a sense of grim satisfaction as the other guys face paled, realization dawning in his eyes. "what the fuck?" he sputtered, taking a step back from you. "you didn't mention anything about having a fucking boyfriend."

stu smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he loomed over the shorter man. "oh, didn't tell you that little detail, huh?" he snorted, making sure to speak louder than you were trying to, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“fuck this, and fuck you too."

with that, he turned on his heel and stormed off, shouldering his way through the crowd and disappearing into the night. stu watched him go, a laugh bubbling up from his chest as the realization that his plan had worked sank in.

and just like that, it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of the writhing mass of partygoers. the air between you was thick with tension, the silence stretching out for a long drawn-out moment as you stared each other down.

stu's grin softened, taking on a more genuine, almost tender quality as he looked at your beautiful, angry face. "guess it's just you and me now, babe," he said softly, "just like old times, huh? fuck that guy." he had no guilt or remorse displayed as he spoke.

he reeled back slightly, his grin turning impish as he took in the exasperated expression on your face. "what, you're not happy to see me?" he clutched at his chest in mock distress, his eyes wide and wounded. "im hurt, y/n. i thought we had something special, you and me."

despite your annoyance, you could feel a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. stu's playfulness was infectious. you shook your head, trying to maintain your irritation even as his grin threatened to chip away at it.

"you're such a fuckin' idiot," you muttered, "i can't believe you just did that. what if i really liked that guy?”

stu's eyes lit up with a eager gleam as your words sank in. "wait, so you didn't like that asshole?" he grinned widely, his face splitting into a triumphant, feral smile. "i knew it."

he stepped even closer, backing you up against the nearby wall and trapping you there with his body. his hands came up to rest on either side of your head, caging you in as he leaned down to murmur in your ear.

"tell me you don't still think of me. tell me you don't miss the way i make you feel. you know nobody can love you as good as i can, baby." his voice was low and intense, breath hot against your skin.

you could feel a shiver running down your spine at the proximity from the heat of his body being so close to yours. his eyes were dark and intense, boring into your own with an almost hypnotic force. you swallowed hard, heart starting to race in your chest.

"stu..." you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. "we can't...i mean, we're not...you can't just..." but even as you protested, you could feel your resolve starting to crumble, the old feelings rising up to the surface like a tidal wave threatening to drown you at his intrusion of space.

his grin turned wolfish, eyes glinting with a predatory light as he watched you struggle to find the words.

"c'mon, baby," he purred, his voice a low, silky rumble. "use your words."

one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her bottom lip. "tell me you don't want me to kiss you right now."

his other hand drifted down to your waist, pressing his body closer to yours and causing you to feel the cool hard wall behind you.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, making you look up at the whopping 6’3 man.

stu's grin turned absolutely wicked as your breathless words reached his ears. "kiss me.”

“i thought youd never ask, babe.”

and with that, he closed the distance between you, capturing your mouth in a searing, hungry kiss. it was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing and aching need.

his lips moved demandingly against yours. one hand fisted in your hair, holding you in place, while the other slid down to grip your hip, pulling you impossibly closer.

he kissed you like a man starved, like a man who had been wandering in the desert for fifty years and had finally found water.

he kissed you like he never wanted to let you go, like he wanted to devour you whole and make you a part of him forever.

after a long, heated moment, stu finally pulled back, a smug grin spreading across his face as he took in your kiss-swollen lips and dazed expression. "fuck, i missed that," he murmured, "i missed you."

you blinked up at him, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. you couldn't help but grin back. "youre still a fuckin' idiot. i can't believe i fell for that. again. this is seriously the third time youve pulled this exact stunt with different guys."

stu just laughed, a sound that seemed to rumble through his chest. "aw, but you love it, baby." he leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours as he murmured, "don’t you?" his eyes had a sort of soft look in them, like he was looking for your approval. like he’d resemble a kicked puppy if you told him otherwise.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up in your throat. "youre impossible," you said, shaking your head in exasperation. "seriously, who teaches you your moves? some shitty rom-com?"

"nah, im a natural born lover, baby. its all me." stu's grin was positively sinful, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement.

his grin softened into a more genuine smile as he gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours with a newfound sincerity. "y’know, i’been thinkin'..." he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "what the hell were we thinkin' when we broke up in the first place, huh?"

you giggled, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall, your eyes sparkling with a hint of nostalgia. "i don't even remember anymore," you admitted, your smile turning a bit wistful. "does it really matter?"

stu's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a playful, mischievous light. "nah, i guess it doesn't," he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

he leaned in closer. "soo.. you wanna get back together?"

and then you smiled. a slow, soft smile that lit up your whole face. "yeah," you whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding music. "i do."

stu's face split into a wide, joyful grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed softly. "hell yeah, baby," he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. "welcome back."

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : HI ANON thank you sm for the compliment btw ^_^ ill probably get a billy fic pumped out soon i just gotta think of a plot or smth . i feel like this was short idk :? im sorry

started 1.15.2025. finished 1.15.2025.

( scream masterlist )

©️ nolovelingers 2025

[valentiyne]

𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 716 ❀ 𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader Summary: Paper-thin walls and numerous noise complaints.

FULL BOOK: MIDNIGHT | L.R.H Warnings: None! Slight swearing if you squint hard enough Word Count: 2.8k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Game Night was hosted every third Friday of the month. Cramped in the new tiny apartment, 7 friends and their significant others wound up on my shitty couch shouting nonsense at each other.

The living room consisted of the old couch, my TV on top of a cardboard box I hadn't quite unpacked yet, and numerous card games.

Holding the slip in my hand, I eye the timer in front of me on the makeshift coffee table My eyes scanned the paper quickly before jumping up and snapping my fingers, "Okay okay, it's born in the water but moves onto land when older."

My friends stare at me dumbfounded, their minds elsewhere as I furrow my brows and tap my feet numerous times. "Come on guys, it's what a tadpole turns into when it's older!" I'm practically yelling now, eyes darting between my friends sitting down and the tiny timer on the table.

"A baby turtle?"

"Andddd time"

I groan in annoyance, dropping the slip of paper while walking back to the spot on the couch, and plopping down with a huff.

"A baby turtle? Seriously?' I scoff, rolling my eyes at my friends who couldn't contain their laughter at my obvious annoyance.

"Okay I'll go nex-", My friend Abby was cut short by a knock on the door. It wasn't necessarily a pound, but it definitely made all of us go silent.

We all look at each other quickly, almost mentally counting everyone to make sure it wasn't an expected visitor.

I slide off the couch, my eyebrows raised for a moment before I walk towards the door. Standing on my tiptoes, I look through the peephole to see my next-door neighbor, Lucas, standing there with an annoyed expression painted on his face. I sigh and unlock the door, poking my head out with a smile.

"Are we too loud?", I ask with innocent eyes, my bottom lip tugged into my teeth as I speak quietly. Lucas gave a friendly smile, his eyebags hidden behind his eyeglasses as he turned to point at his door, "I know it's a Friday night but I'm really busy in the studio tonight... kind of hard to concentrate when there's a bunch of girls next door squealing over....?"

I finish the sentence for him, "If tadpoles are baby turtles." I rub the back of my neck shyly, laughing almost to myself.

"Right yeah, is there any way to keep it down just a tad?"

I give him a thumbs up before we part ways- him rubbing his eyes and kicking his door shut with his bare foot and me turning around and closing it softly. My friends all huddled up behind the door, eavesdropping on our conversation, and as soon as the door shut, they all squealed quietly.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!", My friend Abby gushing, nudging me with her shoulder harshly. "You never told me you have huge chemistry with your neighbor?"

My eyes grow wide and my hands shoot up in defense, "Oh no- Lucas? He's just a neighbor"

All of my friends' eyes were on me now, and an awkward silence fell upon us. I give a mere shrug before walking back over to the coffee table to scoop up all the cards spawled across it.

"Game night at mine next time?", Abby asks from beside me, picking up the numerous cups with mysterious liquids in them with a disgusted look on her face.

I just nod in response, shoving the cards in their rightful places before sighing softly. We said our goodbyes with platonic kisses on the cheeks and dramatic waves before I was left alone in my apartment again.

It was cold, empty, and dead silent in here- completely opposite of the neighbor beside me I'd assume. My bedroom was similar to the living room- a tiny mattress rested on the floor and my toiletries were packed away in numerous boxes I was too lazy to unbox. My head hits the stiff pillow below me and I could hear Lucas in his bedroom strumming his guitar, humming to himself lowly.

It was a little after one o'clock in the morning, but he seemed to be wide awake singing.

"some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard"

It had officially been two weeks since the game night and two weeks since he came to my door. Lucas and I would occasionally make eye contact on the way to the mailboxes or even hold the elevator for one another- but not a single word was shared between us. He was always in his own world, his head bobbing to an imaginary beat inside his head.

Every night I could hear him singing to himself softly, the wall dividing our bedrooms was as thin as paper. The occasional groan and the sound of notebooks hitting the wall distracted me on nights I needed to sleep, but I never once said anything to him. He was a musician- and a very good one to say the least. I didn't want to be the annoying next-door neighbor.

I swing my door open, looking out into the hallway and scanning each door before finally averting my eyes to his own. The wrench in one hand was held on with a tight grip while the other hand carried the TV mount at my side. I could hear the sounds of various instruments being played from behind his door, his voice clearing every few moments to restart a lyric if it didn't sound right the first time.

The hand that held the wrench swung up, knocking on his door a few times before I took a step back and awkwardly looked around the hallway once again. The sounds from behind his door abruptly stopped and I could hear his heavy footsteps making their way towards the door now. Taking one more step back, I watched as Lucas opened the door and looked down at me,

"I'm sorry, am I being too loud?", He cheekily asked, a smile painted on his lips.

"No no, you're fine.", I laugh at his innocent teasing, quoting our most recent encounter. "I was actually coming over to see if you knew how to mount a TV", I poke my head around his figure and motion towards his apartment, "but seeing as you're busy-"

"I'm not busy." He corrects me, leaning inside his door to grab his keys before turning back towards me and grabbing the box from my hand. "Let me help you out, it'll take 10 minutes tops."

It didn't take 10 minutes. Hell, It didn't even take 30 minutes.

There Lucas and I both were, tools of various shapes and sizes sprawled out across my apartment floor and a cheap bottle of wine I found at the back of my fridge.

"Lucas are you sure you know how to-"

"It's Luke and yes, I know how to do this", he grumbles nonsense to himself as he flips through the instruction manual for the third time tonight. I sighed to myself slightly, trying to keep myself from laughing by taking a swig of the wine.

"Could always just use thumbtacks"

This makes Luke laugh, his eyebrows relaxing on his face and cheeks going bright red. He tosses the manual at me, and I put my hands up to defend myself.

"I'm pretty sure some thumbtacks couldnt hold a 35 pound Tv," He holds his stomach as he rolls around my floor, laughing loudly. I roll my eyes at this, groaning and tossing the screwdriver on the floor.

"Look, it's getting late. I'll just have you come over and do it another time.", I point towards the clock, which was held up with thumbtacks, that read two o'clock in the morning.

"Oh shit, sorry I totally spaced it," Luke stands up now, gathering up his tools quickly and giving me a crooked smile. "I'll swing by sometime this week to help you, I promise." I'm smiling now, shooing him out the door quickly.

"Yeah yeah see you later, rockstar", I tease and close the door abruptly, only to be stopped by a foot in the way.

"What are you doing tomorrow?", The way his eyes glimmered in the hallway light, his hair slicked back from sweat and cheeky dimples appeared as he smiled at me.

"I have finals tomorrow morning, and I'll probably be dead by the time its over- anytime after that I'm free.", I groan dramatically and push my palm into my forehead.

Luke just nods, freeing his foot from the doorway, and gives me a thumbs up, "I'll be sure to be quiet tonight so you can get your rest." I thank him kindly and give him a soft wave before closing the door behind him.

Luke was anything but quiet. I tossed and turned throughout the night, pushing the pillow closer to my ears as I heard him attempting to sing a lyric he wasn't even finished with. if there's one thing I've learned about him in the month and a half I've known him- he was a perfectionist. He sang the same things over and over countless times making sure it was absolutely perfect.

"Cause all these bodies are hoping to get addicted-"

I swing my arm up, smacking on the wall a couple times before groaning and letting it fall to my side once again. His side of the wall went silent immediately, the shuffling of papers and a small mumbled "sorry" was heard.

Luke had avoided me from that point forward: he didn't hold the elevator for me nor did he come and check his overflowing mailbox.

I found myself at his door once again, knocking in one swift movement before clearing my throat. I could hear him shuffling around his apartment, a loud thud followed by a "shit, one second!".

The door opens and a dripping-wet Luke is before me, a towel tightly wrapped around his waist. I blink a few times, holding my gaze above his shoulders out of respect.

"Why are you avoiding me", I ask in a monotone voice, cutting straight to the point. He raises his eyebrows at this now, one hand sassily on his hip.

"Who said I was avoiding you?", He chuckles lightly and opens the door wider, motioning for me to enter. My nose is filled with the smell of the oven baking something sweet mixed with his charcoal body wash. I step inside with a smile, closing the door behind me.

Luke wipes the water from his face and turns away from me, entering his bathroom for a split second, leaving me standing in his kitchen.

I glance around his living room: Pictures of his friends and family are hung up neatly on the wall, his instruments are laid out on the floor around his couch, and his bookshelf is overflowing with numerous copies of musical books.

He emerges from the bathroom once again, now clothed in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts and the towel that was once wrapped around his waist was now encased in his curls.

"I was just going to invite you over actually," He laughs again, flashing me his million-dollar smile before pointing at his dining table. It was decorated with a lace tablecloth, a small bouquet of flowers sitting in a glass-decorated vase, and a plate of steaming hot pasta was laid out. I smile to myself slightly, looking back up at him before taking my seat at the table, he rushes forward, scooting my chair in for me before taking his own seat across from me.

"What's the occasion?" I ask while picking up my fork, poking at the seafood pasta that was professionally plated. If you would've told me he hired a chef to make dinner- I would've believed you.

"I was loud on the night of your finals and I felt horrible knowing I kept you up all night", He picks up his napkin and places it neatly on his lap, "I wanted to make it up to you after I mounted your TV buttt you showed up a little early", He teases.

I take a bite of my food, groaning into the fork with a muffled giggle as my eyes look up at his. The food was amazing, and the flavor was intricately picked out to perfection.

Going back, this perfectly proved my point that Luke was a perfectionist.

We found small talk, conversing over what I was majoring in and what he was busy working on.

"So the album is almost done, I just need to finish this last song," He shrugs his shoulders and scrapes at the remains off his plate. I smile to myself, looking up now with innocent eyes, "Maybe I can help?"

He stands up abruptly, turning around and opening the oven to reveal the freshly baked brownies he had made- from scratch may I add. I groan in anticipation and rub my hands together dramatically. He grabs the brownies with oven mitts, turning around and facing me.

"If you want to help me, I'll allow it", he laughs and places the pan down gently and walks towards his living room, picking up a notebook that was previously thrown across the room.

"Here", he places it in front of me, removing my empty plate and walking

The notebook was written in barely eligible handwriting, with numerous words crossed out and mental notes scribbled on the sides.

Some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard so if I tell you, just keep it and don't say a word. when the doors are all closing.....It's bound to get ?? all these bodies are hoping to get addicted to

The rest of the page was scribbled out, lyrics that never made the cut. I snatch the pen from the metal spiral holding the pages together and click it once.

"it's bound to get.... loud?" I scribble it down next to the question marks and look up at him, scratching his chin with a nod. His cheeks were red now, the wine flushing through his body.

"What rhymes with loud?"

I look up at him now, as he scoots his chair right up next to me to the point our legs are touching.

"Cloud, hmmm,"

"Sound," we both say in unison.

Luke claps his hands together and grabs the pen from my hands, opening the notebook to a new page and scribbling down the new and improved lyrics. I watch him closely, the way his eyes twinkled and dimples poked through when he was concentrating.

I was so screwed. I was falling for my next door neighbor.

I didn't see him for another two weeks, his side of the wall seemed eerily vacant and completely silent. I even knocked a few times in hopes he'd knock back in some sort of rhythm, but there was no response.

Hearing the knock on my door shot my body out of bed, sweat dripping down my neck and sides. I groan and tap on my phone to check the time, blinding myself in the process. The pounding never stopped, not until I stumbled out of bed and opened my door. My heart skipped a beat, praying that the blonde would be on the other side with that cheeky smile I adored.

"Hello?", I ask in a groggy voice whilst rubbing my eyes and squinting up at the person who disturbed my slumber- at 2 a.m. may I add.

Instead of a person, I was met with an empty cold hallway. I avert my gaze down and towards my door mat. There, set up neatly was a bouquet of flowers with a note tied to the front with white lace.

I smile at myself and crouch down, picking up the thoughtful gift and looking down the hallway one last time before kicking my door shut.

Y/n,

I'm sorry I didn't see you before I left. Our album releases at 2:30am today and I was supposed to leave at 2... I just knew I had to leave you something on my way out. I hope you like the flowers I picked out my mom helped me.

I'd have probably sent you the link to the album by the time you finish reading this note.

I'm going to be all over the world, touring and doing what I love. I can't wait to be back home and see you again, i'll make sure to facetime every change I get.

love,

your rockstar

I could hear the familiar ringtone from my bedroom, alerting me that Luke was a man of his word. I wipe a few stray tears and make my way to the bedroom, snatching my phone up with my free hand and clicking the link he had sent me.

This is the song I spent the last 3 months working on, keeping you tossing and turning until finally you perfected it.

Mp3.ifwallscouldtalk.demo

[moonysbookshelves]

Kill Your Darlings by @sophsicle (MesserMoon)

Ohhhh this fic. What can I say? I cried a lot but I loved every word ◡̈

Myself and @avisbindery commissioned the cover art from @/kovacseemma (ig) and she nailed it, we wanted the scene between Regulus and Sirius when they are huddled in the closet together :”) Black Brothers angst 🔛🔝

I really loved the anxiety inducing thought special text formatting throughout the fic, so I tried to carry that into the designs for the typeset and end pages too. Got carried away putting most of the intrusive thoughts into red text as well because I love to be sad and red always achieves that feeling lol. Butterflies on the book cloth for my love, Barty.

“You are the story” is a line that crosses through my mind more often than is probably healthy.

Special shoutout to the man at the printshop who— when I took this text block in to get trimmed because it was too thick for my personal guillotine— began to flip through the pages and then wouldn’t make eye contact with me after 🥰 You don’t know what you’re missing out on sir!!

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 4

Masterpost

"Okay, so like. We start with this video." Bernard says, bumping Tim's shoulder lightly. Huddling over a laptop together is a familiar experience; before they actually started dating they both regularly used laptop videos as an excuse to get close. It's a memory that Tim sort of cringes at, because now it seems so silly to be scared of Bernard not liking him back, and yet now he finds himself thinking back to those early days. The thrill of huddling together to solve a mystery is a little different from the thrill of being around your crush, but there's something there, a sort of excitement in questions yet to be answered.

"All right, hit me." And as Tim leans into Bernard a little harder, his boyfriend presses play.

The video is definitely weird. That much is immediately obvious. It seems to be a slideshow of pictures, complete with audio, but the pictures just seem off in a way that Tim can't describe and the audio is - it's a little sticky, but that is definitely Space Oddity, only it sounds kind of wrong like somebody's playing certain notes off key.

"Oh, that is definitely a Caesar cipher, huh?" Tim mutters. There's a line of text written beneath every photo in the little slideshow, but they're all garbled nonsense - it would seem entirely random, but Tim can already see a touch of pattern, some of the letters definitely appearing more common than others.

"Spy phase, huh?" Bernard teases. "I should've known you would already be on this stuff."

Tim grins and does his best to pretend he's not blushing. He's never been more grateful for his tendency to go overboard with his interests. The last thing he needs right now is Bernard asking questions about why he knows so much about code-breaking. Sure, he wants desperately to tell him all about Red Robin, but it's complicated with the rest of the family being implicated in your own identity.

The video continues in the same line for the whole duration of the song, then abruptly cuts off the second the last note of the song plays.

"Well, my first thought is that it seems kind of basic." Tim offers, at Bernard's expectant look.

"Right? Like when I first watched it I was kind of like what's the hype even about? But like, every video follows this general format, but the gradient of apparent code just keeps increasing, and it's like. What if there's more here and nobody ever realized they needed to look for it?"

"Okay well, the text has already been deciphered, right? So what does it say, and how'd they decode it."

"Here," Bernard switches tabs, to a document with screenshots of the various images. The first image was a simple photograph of a man, with the translated text reading Jonathan, January Thirteenth. The next photo, which was of an empty street, dusted with snow, read Hawthorn Way, Johnny's birthday. The rest of the photos followed in the same line. Simple labels describing who or what the photo showed and when they had been taken. None of the information seemed odd or suspicious, just the kind of photos that a family might take.

"Okay, it's a Caesar cipher, but each time the alphabet is being shifted a different amount."

"Yeah. And I already tried writing down the amounts in order to see if that meant anything but like.... No luck." Bernard gestures to his notes, where there is indeed a long number sequence.

"Okay, but how'd you solve it? Did anybody look for a clue to imply the shift or did they just brute force it?"

"I mean, there's literally websites that will run it for you, so I think people just did that." Tim hums, tapping his pen against his ear. The number sequence Bernard had shown him -

"None of the shifts are greater than eleven." Tim says. Bernard blinks, and glances back over his list.

"Huh. You're right, but what does that mean?"

"Means we need to figure out what's eleven." Tim reaches out and switches back the video and starts it again. The music still seems weird to him. He's no expert musician by any means, but he did take piano lessons for a bit when he was little, and more than that, he trusts his instincts. "There's only seven notes in a scale so it's not that..."

"A scale? Do you think there's something in the music? I mean other than it just being creepy?" Tim stares at Bernard.

"Bernard, you literally told me that you think it's all been more intentional than anyone realized. If that's true then the music definitely means something."

"Huh. Yeah, that is. Oh, we definitely needed new eyes on this, huh?" Bernard's huffs, then leans into Tim. "Okay well some the notes in the song are just straight up rank so maybe it's something to do with that?"

Tim hits play on the video again, focusing on the music. Six seconds in, a note hits, sounding very off.

"See?" Bernard says hitting pause. "It does that sometimes. Just plays a wrong note. I thought it was just to fuck with us, make us on edge, but maybe it means something?"

"We need the sheet music on this."

"Yeah? Do you know how to transcribe it?"

"Not reliably enough. But I know how to find someone who can."

"Babe, you're doing it again." Bernard laughs. "That could not have sounded more like Mafia energy if you tried."

"Oh my god, shut up."

[zeroseuniverse]

Covered

Word Count: 1.1K Summary: “You’re blowing your cover!” she yelled, her voice sharp with both fear and frustration. “It doesn’t matter,” Mingyu said, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the corridor. “You’re what matters.” Pairing: Mingyu X Fem Reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

Navigation

The air reeked of rain and burnt wood, the acrid tang of ozone cutting through the dampness. Smoke curled lazily from broken windows as the Corps moved in formation, their boots pounding like a drumbeat against the hollow floors. Mingyu followed close behind, his rifle slung low, his expression a carefully crafted mask of indifference.

The comms in his earpiece crackled to life.

“First floor clear.”

“Third floor secure. No hostiles.”

Mingyu’s chest tightened, though his breathing remained steady. He could imagine the terror etched into the faces of those they would find—families clutching one another, their eyes wide with dread as they huddled together in the shadows. The Corps called them insurgents, but Mingyu had seen the truth. These weren’t rebels or fighters; they were victims. Unarmed. Unwanted. Unforgiven.

“Kim!” the squad leader barked, his tone sharp enough to cut through Mingyu’s thoughts.

“On it,” Mingyu replied, his voice smooth and unshaken.

As he climbed the creaking stairs, the sound of hurried footsteps reached his ears. He adjusted his grip on his weapon, every muscle taut with expectation. A sharp click echoed from down the hallway—the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

He turned his head, slowly, deliberately.

At the far end of the corridor stood a young woman, her frame framed by the erratic flicker of a dying lightbulb. She was a fortress of defiance, her body positioned protectively in front of a makeshift barricade. Overturned furniture and broken crates separated her from Mingyu and his squad. But her eyes, fierce and unwavering, told him she was ready to defend her ground with every ounce of strength she had.

Behind her, three children cowered, their small forms trembling as they clung to one another. She glanced back at them for the briefest moment before shifting her gaze to Mingyu. Her grip on her weapon tightened, but he saw it—the flicker of uncertainty, the barely concealed fear she refused to let show.

“Agent Kim,” the squad leader’s voice crackled through the comms, cutting through the tension. “Take the shot.”

Mingyu’s rifle rose, his movements fluid and precise. His aim shifted, not to her, but slightly to the right. He squeezed the trigger, the bullet burying itself into the wooden paneling just behind her.

The sound was deafening in the small space, and the children whimpered, clutching at her legs.

“Go,” Mingyu mouthed, the movement so subtle it was nearly imperceptible.

Her brow furrowed in suspicion, her body hesitating for a heartbeat too long. Then, as if deciding to trust him against her better judgment, she grabbed the smallest child and began ushering them toward the hidden staircase behind the barricade.

“Targets fled,” Mingyu said aloud, lowering his weapon. His voice was calm, neutral. “Must’ve slipped through the cracks.”

The squad leader let out a string of curses. “Sweep the perimeter! They couldn’t have gone far!”

As the soldiers scattered to follow orders, Mingyu allowed himself a quiet, measured exhale. He didn’t look back at the empty hallway, knowing the image of her fierce gaze would remain burned into his mind.

The alley was bathed in muted amber light, the rain-soaked pavement shimmering as the night wind stirred. Mingyu leaned casually against a brick wall, his arms crossed and his demeanor so relaxed it bordered on arrogance.

He didn’t flinch when she stepped out of the shadows.

Her gaze was sharp as broken glass, her figure framed by the dim halo of a distant streetlight. The dampness in the air had left her hair clinging to her forehead, but she didn’t seem to care.

“You’re either brave or stupid,” she said, her voice low and edged with suspicion.

Mingyu smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Neither. I’m just resourceful.”

She didn’t laugh. Instead, she crossed her arms, her stance unyielding. “Why did you save us?”

Straightening, Mingyu’s smile faded, replaced by something more sincere. “Because you weren’t the enemy.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her wariness unwavering. “And how do I know this isn’t some elaborate trap? Maybe you’re just playing the long game, waiting for me to slip up.”

He raised his hands, palms open in a gesture of surrender. “Fair question. But if I wanted to capture you, I wouldn’t have let you go earlier. And I certainly wouldn’t be standing here now. Alone. Unarmed.”

The silence between them stretched, tension crackling like a live wire.

“What do you want, then?” she finally asked.

Mingyu took a step closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I want out. The Corps doesn’t care who they hurt. I’m done being their weapon.” He met her gaze, his expression steady. “I think we can help each other.”

In the weeks that followed, Mingyu’s dual life became even more precarious. He fed her carefully curated bits of intel, knowing every piece of information he leaked could bring him closer to exposure. But with every mission she carried out, with every group of mutants she saved, he felt a little less like a cog in the corps machine.

She, for the most part, remained cautious. She questioned everything he gave her, testing his motives with sharp words and probing stares. But beneath her guarded exterior, Mingyu began to see glimpses of the person she truly was—fiercely loyal, deeply compassionate, and unrelenting in her fight for justice.

One evening, after narrowly escaping a botched operation, they sat together in a dimly lit safehouse.

“Why do you act like this is all a joke?” she asked, her tone biting but not unkind.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Because if I don’t, I’ll lose my mind. You try juggling two lives and see how fun it is.”

For a moment, her expression softened. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

The vulnerability in her voice caught him off guard, and for the first time, his mask slipped. The weight of his double life was etched into his features, the exhaustion in his eyes unmissable.

“Maybe,” he murmured, looking away.

When the alarm blared during their final mission, red lights pulsing in rhythmic flashes, Mingyu knew they were out of time.

“Stay down!” he shouted as he took down two guards with practiced precision.

“You’re blowing your cover!” she yelled, her voice sharp with both fear and frustration.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mingyu said, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the corridor. “You’re what matters.”

When they finally burst into the cool night air, she spun to face him, her chest heaving.

“You didn’t have to do that!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking.

Mingyu’s expression was unreadable as he stepped closer. “I wasn’t going to let them take you.”

Before she could respond, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. It was desperate and raw, a culmination of weeks of tension, unspoken words, and stolen glances.

When they pulled apart, her breath caught.

“You’re insane,” she muttered, though her voice held no bite.

“Probably,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile.