#and then it spiralled all the way away from me

[tsunaso]

Hi!!

Could I get Zenitsu from demon slayer that swears he straight start to fall for male reader? Like maybe reader is confident and flirty/make dirty jokes with him but he is so deep in denial that he’s always refusing and stuff until he realizes he’s daydreaming of reader and wanting to go along with it?

Not sure if I’m describing it well, and you’re welcome to take the concept and run with it however you like but I thought bi disaster would be funny and a cute bottom

“IN A FLASH”

pairing. “Straight”!Zenitsu Agatsuma x Top!male reader

synopsis. Zenitsu is 100% straight—or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself. But between your constant flirting, your cocky smirks, and the unwelcome daydreams about being pinned against a wall, he’s starting to lose his mind. And maybe, just maybe… he likes it. — 1.7k

warnings. mdni, nsfw, amab reader, dirty jokes, tiniest bit of power play, first time (with a man), overstimulation, handjob, aftercare

a/n: You did a great job describing what you wanted! Thank you for sending in my first request!

Zenitsu was not in love with you.

Nope. Not a chance. Absolutely not.

It didn’t matter that you were tall, confident, and smirked like you owned the place. It didn’t matter that you rolled up your sleeves during training, your arms a little too toned, a little too veiny for him to not notice. And it especially didn’t matter that you had a habit of leaning in too close, whispering dirty jokes just low enough for only him to hear.

Because Zenitsu?

Zenitsu liked women.

He loved women. Soft hands, long hair, big br—

"Are you blushing?"

The sound of your smooth, teasing voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Zenitsu immediately flinched, whipping around to see you grinning down at him, elbow resting on his shoulder.

His stomach flipped.

"No! I—Why would I—?! I AM NOT BLUSHING!"

In his panic, he stumbled backward—tripping over absolutely nothing—and fell flat onto his ass.

You burst out laughing, loud and shameless, crossing your arms as you watched him writhe in his own embarrassment.

"You totally were," you smirked. "What’s the matter? My rugged good looks getting to you?"

Zenitsu felt his entire soul leave his body.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" He practically threw himself back to his feet, pointing at you in a wild panic. "I AM 100% STRAIGHT, OKAY?! I LOVE WOMEN! BIG BOOBS! SOFT HANDS! LONG HAIR!"

You just raised an eyebrow.

"...Alright, bro. You want a medal or something?"

Zenitsu twitched violently.

This was your fault.

For months, you'd been torturing him.

The casual hand on his shoulder. The way you'd sit too close, your thigh pressed against his. The way your gravelly, stupidly deep voice sounded whenever you murmured some filthy joke into his ear, leaving him to short-circuit in real-time.

He hated it.

He hated you.

He was definitely not going to start thinking about it later.

Absolutely not.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

It started small. Little things.

Like how your voice was kind of deep.

Not too deep—but just enough to make his stomach flip when you said his name.

Or how your hands were huge.

Not that he was paying attention to them. Not that he was imagining how they’d feel gripping his waist, holding his wrists, pinning him—

WAIT, BAD. BAD THOUGHT.

Zenitsu shook his head violently, slapping his own cheeks.

He was just tired. That was all. He needed to train more.

…But training wasn’t exactly helping.

Because lately, you were standing too damn close.

"Need help with your stance?" you murmured from behind him, your chest almost pressed to his back.

Zenitsu froze.

His entire body locked up as your hands brushed over his hips, adjusting him like it was nothing.

Like you weren’t completely ruining his life.

"I—I GOT IT!" he shrieked, flailing away from you like you were on fire. "THANKS, NO NEED TO TOUCH ME, I’M PERFECTLY FINE—!!"

You just blinked at him, amused. "Dude, chill."

Zenitsu was not chilling.

He was losing his fucking mind.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

It got worse.

He started having thoughts.

Thoughts like, "What if he pushed me against a wall?"

Or "What if he held me down?"

Or "What if I just… let him?"

"NOOOOOOO—!!!" Zenitsu bolted upright in bed, screaming into his pillow.

What the hell was that dream?!

WHY WAS IT KINDA GOOD?!!

He buried his face in his hands, rocking back and forth in despair.

"This isn’t happening," he whispered. "I love women. BIG BOOBS. SOFT HANDS. LONG HAIR."

…Your hair didn’t look like a womans, but it always looked kinda nice.

WAIT, NO, STOP—!!!

Zenitsu launched himself out of bed. He needed a distraction. Immediately.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu was determined to prove his 100% absolute heterosexuality.

Which is why, the next morning, he could be found on his knees in front of a random woman, gripping her hands, screaming into the sky.

"HELLO, BEAUTIFUL LADY! HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE WOMEN?!"

The woman blinked. "…Are you okay?"

"I’M SO OKAY!" Zenitsu laughed, manic and desperate. "SO, SO, SO OKAY! WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL! GORGEOUS! PLEASE MARRY ME!"

You watched from a distance, arms crossed, fighting back a smirk.

"He’s been acting weird lately," Tanjiro mumbled beside you.

You chuckled. "Yeah. I noticed."

Zenitsu’s entire body stiffened.

Because your voice—your deep, amused, cocky voice—was right behind him.

He turned slowly, staring up at you with wide, panicked eyes.

"Yo," you grinned.

Zenitsu squeaked.

Just straight-up made a noise like a fucking chew toy and bolted in the opposite direction.

You laughed.

Because oh yeah.

You definitely knew what this was.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu’s back hit the wall, his breath coming in ragged, uneven pants.

His whole body was shaking, his hands gripping at nothing, his legs weak beneath him.

This was your fault.

You were too close.

You had him trapped, one hand flat against the wall beside his head, your strong, calloused fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

He tried to glare.

Tried to resist.

But his face was burning, his eyes were wide and panicked, his chest rising and falling way too fast.

This was wrong.

This was not supposed to happen.

"I—I don’t—” Zenitsu stammered, but his hips twitched forward, betraying him instantly.

You smirked. "Not like what?"

Your voice was too deep, too smooth, too much.

Zenitsu let out a sharp, shaky breath, his fingertips digging into the wall behind him.

"I—I'm not—"

He cut himself off, biting his lip hard, his eyes squeezing shut.

Because if he looked at you any longer, he was going to break.

And then—

You grabbed his chin, tilted his face up, and kissed him.

Zenitsu shattered.

A sharp, wrecked little noise escaped him, somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, his body going stiff—then melting completely.

His hands shot up to grip your shirt, his fingers fisting the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t pull away.

He couldn’t.

His whole body was burning, his mind spinning, his lips parting helplessly as you deepened the kiss, teasing, taking your time breaking him apart.

Zenitsu’s legs gave out.

You caught him instantly, one strong arm wrapping around his waist, keeping him pinned against you.

He hated how good it felt.

He hated how easily you overpowered him.

He hated that his dick was aching, twitching, throbbing, already soaked with precum—

But most of all?

He hated how much he loved it.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu didn’t remember how you got him to bed.

All he knew was that he was on his back, his clothes half-off, his skin burning, and your hands were on him.

Too much.

Too good.

Too overwhelming.

His breath was shaky, his legs spread open beneath you, his whole body trembling like a leaf. He should’ve been embarrassed—should’ve pushed you away, should’ve pretended he didn’t want this.

But when you dragged your palm up his inner thigh, tracing over sensitive, untouched skin, his whole body jerked violently, a shocked little whimper spilling from his lips.

His hands shot up to cover his mouth, his fingers pressing against his own lips as if that could stop the noises from escaping.

You smirked.

“Oh? You like that?”

Zenitsu furiously shook his head, eyes blown wide, face burning.

"NO—"

You hummed, dragging your fingers up his trembling stomach, stopping just at the waistband of his underwear.

"You sure?"

Zenitsu bit his lip hard, his whole body twitching in anticipation.

He could feel himself leaking, soaking the fabric, his thighs clenched but trembling, struggling to stay still.

He was too sensitive.

Too needy.

And when you finally hooked your fingers into his waistband and tugged his underwear down—

Zenitsu gasped, his breath catching, his dick twitching against his stomach.

Fuck.

He looked away immediately, his chest rising and falling way too fast.

He couldn’t do this.

He wasn’t supposed to like this.

Then your fingers wrapped around him, slow, teasing, barely applying any pressure.

And Zenitsu cried out.

A sharp, wrecked moan slipped past his lips, his hips jerking forward before he could stop himself.

"S-Shit—"

You chuckled. "You're shaking."

"Sh-Shut up," he whined, his voice cracking, his fingers digging into the sheets.

He was burning up.

He felt too hot, too exposed, too weak.

But it felt good.

Way too fucking good.

Your grip tightened just slightly, your thumb swiping over his leaking tip, and Zenitsu’s whole body twitched.

His breath hitched, a choked moan spilling out.

"I-I—oh fuck—"

You smirked. "Already close?"

"NO—" Zenitsu’s voice cracked, his cheeks burning.

He was not going to cum just from this.

He was not going to embarrass himself like that.

He was not going to—

You leaned down, dragged your tongue over his tip, and Zenitsu screamed.

His fingers fisted the sheets, his whole body seizing up, his dick twitching violently.

And then—

He broke.

"OH—OH FUCK—"

His back arched sharply, his hips bucking up, his breath stuttering, and then he let out a wrecked little sob, cumming way too fast, way too hard.

His chest heaved, his legs shaking, his body completely wrecked beneath you.

You pulled back slightly, grinning down at him.

"That fast?" your voice was low, amused, teasing. "Thought you had more stamina, Thunder Boy."

Zenitsu whined into his hands, his whole body trembling, his mind completely blank.

He should’ve been mortified.

But then—

Your hand wrapped around him again.

And Zenitsu twitched violently.

"H-Hah—w-wait, I just—"

Your grip tightened slightly, stroking him slow, teasing, letting him feel the overstimulation creep in.

Zenitsu gasped, his hips jerking forward weakly, his thighs trembling.

"You're still hard," you murmured, voice silky smooth. "Guess that wasn't enough for you, huh?"

Zenitsu let out a broken little noise, his nails digging into your arms.

He couldn’t handle this.

He was too sensitive.

Too fucking weak.

"B-Be gentle," he whispered, his voice tiny.

You smirked, kissing his heated skin.

"No."

Then you kept going.

And Zenitsu?

Zenitsu didn’t stand a chance.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu refused to let go of you.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your chest, his breath still shaky.

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair.

"You okay?"

Zenitsu huffed weakly, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

"I still like girls," he mumbled into your skin. "I just… really like you too."

You chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

Zenitsu whined. "Don’t make me say it again—!"

You grinned. "So you liked it?"

Zenitsu froze.

Then, with a mortified little whimper, he hid his face in your chest.

"D-Don’t say it out loud, idiot!"

You laughed, holding him tighter.

[luckykiwiii101]

THE DEVIL DOESN’T WEAR SUBMISSION! SHE WEARS PRADA, OH!- AND NARCISSISM!

| | THE 411 ON HOW TO MANIFEST YOUR DREAM LIFE! | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི keep your head & heels high, and your middle finger higher ཋྀ

ཐི TABLE OF CONTENTS ཋྀ

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

p.s. psssst!! hey “void” worshippers, this is also for you. so read it. To everyone, take a day off to let all this information settle, it’s quite a lot!!

Welcome back Upper East Siders.

It’s often said that, no matter the truth, people see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out that they’ve been looking at the same big picture all along. Some people see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

But because you’ve fallen to submission, chances are that you’re blinded from the things that are right in-front of you. I’d call you legally blind but it’s a different type of law that you’re breaking.

Talk about secrets of the universe, but you’re living proof that knowledge doesn’t always mean wisdom, and that money can’t buy style, or class.

And if there’s one thing we all know about fashion, it’s that before putting an article of clothing on, you have to take one off, usually with the intention of putting another one back on. Or you’ll end up looking like a complete mess! or under your best friend’s BF! I hope S is taking notes…but even the biggest superstars need a stylist. And luckily for you, I have a friend who’s into fashion, and not just any fashion, high fashion, Little J, come out, come out wherever you are…

Oh wait! Almost lost track of my endless talents but i’m also great at fashion, and i’m simply just better. You can go back to crashing runways little J, and also just…running away.

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

First of all, I want you to know that all your dreams are possible and very easy. So this is for those doubtful upper east siders who forgot that the law of assumption is actually real, and not some joke made up by teenagers online.

Spend some time going through my law of assumption proof gallery to help clear your doubts in the law -> CLICK ME!

Now that you’ve boosted your faith in the law of assumption, of course you can believe 99%, but you’re going to have to fill that 1% on your own, through your own success.

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

Do you understand the law of assumption? -> CLICK ME

And do you understand who you actually are? Cause when someone asks, your only response should be “god”. -> CLICK ME

So how does “the void state” & “reality” work? In your favour, as usual -> CLICK ME

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

Spotted: Lonely boy’s rude awakening. Upper East Side Queens arent born at the top. They climb their way up in heels, no matter who they have to tread on to do it. Now what to wear with those heels…

Well, we hear narcissism’s in fashion, and rumour has it, she’s here to stay. But as I said before, putting a new outfit on requires taking the other off, and I ask disrespectfully, WHAT is that outfit!? You need a serious makeover! -> CLICK ME

A wise woman once said, the most dangerous enemies are the ones we never knew we had. And then there are those assumptions you never knew you held.

Now that you know why you kept failing previously, it’s time for your new self concept! And your permanent self concept. I promise, you’ll never fail again. You can’t do something impossible like failure. And since you understand the law and who you are (I AM) you know that failure simply isn’t possible.

What to wear? Failure? No. Narcissism. She looks much better on you anyway. Choose to wear the ugly outfit? Well I’ve got a friend on cyberspace who knows exactly what to do. And those flashes of clicked pics definitely aren’t coming from the paparazzi.

But I know, I know. “Narcissism” Isn’t that a bad thing? Not when it comes to being who you want. And all I mean is putting yourself on the highest pedestal. You’re going to completely fall in love with yourself, by becoming your desired self. That includes you void worshippers! Stop being submissive to the outer self. You dictate her, not the other way around. You’re going to be your desired self who has their dream life, no matter what. You’re above everyone and everything! Narcissistic, I like it.

First of all, remind yourself of what your dream life is and who you’re going to dedicate yourself to being. All good? Perfect! So here’s your new self concept & reminders to self -> CLICK ME

With this, what you’re going to do, is make your own personalised self concept guide. The one i’ve given you is only generalised to everyone’s use. I’ve given “directions” on where to add your own ideas, but don’t remove my ones because they’re extremely important and shouldn’t be ignored!! To make your own personalised self concept guide, just copy & paste the text on the template, and add your own ideas to your heart’s content, and decorate it to your liking & aesthetic. No harm in making it look pretty. Use pretty colours, pretty pics of your dream life etc. I recommend making yours on either notion, or tumblr. If you do end up making yours on tumblr, make it a private & pinned post so that you’ll see it on your front page and remember to come back to it. The only time you should ever open tumblr is to view your self concept guide or this post or the other ones i’ve made!!

Get into the state of being your desired self. Because that IS you. Embody your new self concept. Relish in it. Love it. You are going to fully immerse yourself into your new self concept. Finally, once and for all, be the real you. She’s been waiting for you.

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

A lot of upper east siders have been wondering. “What’s the right way to manifest?” Your way. Your way and only your way. Whatever you want is the right thing to do. You should already understand that from “enter the god state” post. That’s why it’s important that you personalise your own self concept guide!! YOU make the rules!

I hope you like the self concept template i’ve given you, and now you’re going to embody your dream self.

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

Need a wake up call? CLICK ME! They don’t call New York “the city that never sleeps” for nothing.

The purpose of the self concept guide and why it’s so important is to stop you from spiralling. Need guidance? Go back to the self concept guide and remind yourself of who you are.

Also, I have a post that really helps with spiralling. Come back to this every time you feel like spiralling -> CLICK ME

And don’t forget upper east siders, if you won’t do it out of love, do it out of spite. And you’re going to be bitch, at-least do it the right way. You’re the boss. The devil doesn’t wear submission, she wears prada, oh!- and narcissism. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[hoe4hotchner]

maybe some aaron angst with an s/o that's insecure about her discomfort with physical intimacy

Fault Lines | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: angst, hurt/comfort?ish, insecurity, self-doubt, and discomfort with physical intimacy, spiralling, feelings of inadequacy.

The apartment was dimly lit, the glow from the floor lamp casting shadows across the walls.

You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest beneath a throw blanket that felt more like armor than comfort. The air felt heavier than usual, pressing down on your chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

It had been such a small thing. Aaron had reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as you sat beside him. But that simple act had sent you spiraling.

Did he want more? Did he expect more? The thought clawed at your mind, sending panic flaring through your veins. You could feel the pressure building, your chest tightening as your thoughts spiraled deeper.

He’s been so patient. Too patient. What if he’s tired of waiting? What if this was his way of testing the waters, trying to see if you were ready to give him more? You weren’t sure you could. No, you knew you couldn’t.

The weight of your inadequacy crashed over you like a wave, pulling you under. He deserved better. He deserved someone who didn't freeze every time he reached out. Someone who wasn't too broken to love him the way he deserved. He deserved more.

The couch felt impossibly small, the walls too close, and most of all — he was too close. The thought of his disappointment—of failing him—was like a knife to your chest.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been silent until Aaron’s voice broke through your haze.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said gently glancing up from the newspaper in his hands, his tone was laced with concern but somehow it sounded like an accusation in your ears.

You blinked, his words pulling you out of the swirling storm in your head, though the remnants of it still clung to you. Your gaze darted to him, and you immediately regretted it. He looked worried. Of course, he did. Aaron wasn’t the type to miss things like this. He was a profiler after all.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice so small it barely carried through the space between you. You turned your eyes away, casting them to the ground, unable to face the kindness you knew was there. “I don’t mean to be like this.”

“Like what?” he asked softly, the question gentle but you knew he was trying to coax the answer out of you.

“Like… broken.” The word made bile rise in your throat, bitter and toxic. “You’re so patient with me, and I—I can’t even—” Your voice broke, your insecurity pressing down harder. You squeezed your eyes shut, a tear slipping free despite your best efforts. “It’s not fair to you.”

Aaron didn’t respond right away, and the silence stretched just long enough for the panic to start creeping back in.

He’s going to agree. He’s going to realize I’m right, and he’s going to leave—

“You’re not broken,” he said firmly, cutting through the noise in your head. His voice was steady, grounding even, and you could feel his eyes on you even though you couldn’t bring yourself to meet them.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, your words trembling. “It’s not just that I can’t—I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. And you shouldn’t have to wait for me to figure that out. You deserve someone who can—who will—” Your breath hitched, and you buried your face in your hands. “Someone better.”

Aaron shifted slightly, his movements careful, trying his best not to touch you. He didn’t reach for your hand like earlier, and he didn’t close the distance. He just stayed where he was, despite wanting to pull you into his embrace, to push your head into the crook of his neck as he cooed sweet nothings into your ear.

“I don’t love you because of what you think you should be able to give me,” he said, his voice low and even. “I love you because of who you are.”

The words hit you like a blow, stealing the air from your lungs. You shook your head, the shame and doubt too deeply rooted to let go so easily.

“But what if that’s not enough?” you whispered, becoming even quieter.

“It is,” he said simply, as if it were the most undeniable truth in the world. It was to him. “You are enough. And if you need time, or space, or anything else to feel comfortable, I will give you that. This isn’t something we need to fix—it’s something we navigate together.”

Tears blurred your vision as his words settled over you like a warm blanket. You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to. But the voice in your head was louder, sharper, telling you that you weren’t worth this.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

“I know,” Aaron said softly, his tone almost breaking. “And it’s okay to be scared. But you’re not doing this alone. I’m here, no matter how long it takes. No matter what you feel comfortable with or not, I will be here.”

You finally looked at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But there was none—just the intensity of his love and adoration for you, unshaken by your fears.

It didn’t erase the ache in your chest or the weight of your insecurities. But it made them feel a little less suffocating.

Aaron didn’t push for more. He stayed exactly where he was, steady and patient, waiting for you to come to him when you were ready.

And for now, that was enough.

[vettelsvee]

Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏

END GAME | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader

SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT

WORD COUNT: 2745

WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."

You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.

You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.

However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.

"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."

You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.

Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.

That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.

"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."

You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.

With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.

As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.

Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.

Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.

You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.

When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.

He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.

"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.

You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"

"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."

"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."

"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"

His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.

For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.

"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.

Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.

"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.

"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."

"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."

Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.

"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.

"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.

You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.

"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.

"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.

But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.

"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."

"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."

"Lando…"

"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."

His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.

You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.

When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.

"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."

Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.

Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.

"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.

"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."

He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.

Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.

But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.

"Lando…"

"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."

"It’s just…"

Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.

"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"

Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."

"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"

Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.

"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.

"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."

"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.

"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."

Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.

"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."

"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.

"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"

"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.

"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"

This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.

"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.

"Then prove it."

"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.

"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"

"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"

[moonchild1]

can i just say how i am totally captivated by this fic once again just going back and reading everything again had me mesmerized by this plot line, seriously it is so good you guy have no idea, it's written to perfection that you are completely be drawn into the story, just like a movie it plays out in front of your eyes as you read the words i am not even joking it's literally the best part about it that you get drawn into the fic like that it's magical I tell you... sorry for the babbling on but i can't fully express how much i love this fic and i can't not mention the prince and me because it just reminds me of it especially oc's personality and how she works so hard to achieve her goals i love it so much, yoon your words, how you describe oc passion and jungkook's desires it's just beautiful you build the scenes so well and not only that the emotions, their thoughts it's like you are one with the character and this world you have build it sometimes brings me to tears to read the way your wrote their thoughts like in chapter 3 I literally had tears in my eyes... I was honestly blown away and that scene in the at the cafe when they are truly just themselves, i can't stop saying this but they way you write is pure gold and i hang on all of your words, the way oc and jungkook conversations just flow and holds so much meaningful moments like i can't describe it but it feels more like just a conversation for a story it just latches on to my heart and i feel like your words have so much meaning behind them, the placement of certain words, what they talk about it's like poetry if i am being honest i feel like there should be an analysis of each line or thought that they have that's the best way I can describe it...

jumping into ch. 5 can i just say i love oc's spirals about the jungkook dating news i don't wanna spoil it but gosh i love her trying to decipher why it's that girl, why out of the people in the world it's her i really enjoyed that and her subtle inclusion of herself in the comparisons hehehehe oc i see you, also i am with Yuri and oc on the hate train, oc's just hilarious in that conversation i love it.. so the slow ass burn warning was very much needed hey wow no I still can't believe jk did a whole post with that girl and didn't tell oc, i somewhat get where his coming from but cmon how did he think she would react especially since their friendship is so strong and they clearly care about one another hehehe and jk's spiral after she confronts him ouch the slowest burn ever and the angst got me hooked, i am absolutely looking forward to how things proceed between jk and this girl and oc's take on everything will she be able to focus on her time with nel i'm pretty sure she's gonna have jk on the brain (also not sure if i mentioned it but I am sooooo not team this girl she's clearly soaking up all the influence jk brings and the complete opposite of what jk needs and she's oc's nemesis so not my vibe i can only imagine a scene where this girl just says the wrong thing in oc's presence and oc just flips and gives her a piece of her mind oooohh I hope that (also the giggle /eye roll, which i totally blame on oc by the way, that i let out when i read this man was at a party making out with this girl, jk whatcha doing my guy??????) lemme hop on into the next chapter and see jk's thought this man better explain himself 😉🤭🖤

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 5

Title: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Explanations

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: I'm sorry the prince is dating WHO?

Warnings: PG16, swearing, drinking, pining, angsssttttttttt, Jk has a lot of feelings, and so does Reader. Yuri being Yuri. Adaline being Adaline. TOUCH of fluff.

Word Count: 6,006

Release Date: October 20, 2023, 2:00PM

A/N 1: brain mush. finally out. Thank you for understanding. Already working on 6.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before fall reading week. 

Saturday’s looking so beautiful. Sunny skies and comfortable temperatures. 

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before the Friday you get to see Nel for the first time since August. 

And by god you can’t wait. You’re counting the days, minutes and seconds till he’s in front of you again. 

But it’s also 2:30pm on the Wednesday after you mysteriously woke up in your bed after movie night.  And that thought alone has been in the back of your mind since you opened your eyes Monday morning. 

You’d thought about asking Jungkook what happened, but also didn’t think you could face the mortification if his answer was the one you almost 100% knew it was going to be. Hell, you could already feel the nose dive your stomach would make towards pavement the second you got confirmation. 

So instead, like any other rational person, you shelved it away in the back corner of your brain. Far, far back, hopefully being covered with dirt and cobwebs and lint as the days pass on. 

Though you have a nagging feeling that someone or something keeps dusting—anyways, there are much more important things to be focusing on. 

Currently at the greenhouse cafe, you’re sipping on hot chocolate and painting this week's florals on a canvas almost half the size of you. Perched onto an easel, a bunch of sunflowers is beginning to take shape when your phone dings so many times you're worried someone’s dead. 

Dropping your brush, you scoop it up from its place on the edge of the table, only to see a series of texts from Yuri, and you loose a worried breath.

Her contact name is the same from when you two went to a party the first night of freshman year. While you were sipping from your first and only drink that night, Yuri was sloshed out her mind and slurring her words. And thus, SlurryYuri was born.

She whines every time she sees you still haven’t changed it. You were never going to, of course.

SlurryYuri [2:32pm]: BITCH

Oh, here we go. 

SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHO WENT SOCIAL MEDIA OFFICIAL TODAY SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: BABE ANSWER SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: ANSWER ANSWER ANSWERRRRR SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: YNNNNNNNN

You [2:34pm]: Take a breath why dont you

SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: FINALLY.  SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: By the gods YN…  SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: ANYWAY SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: JUNGKOOK SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: as in PRINCE Jungkook SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: is dating ADALINE. SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: as in #1 ENEMY OF THE STATE EVIL BITCH ADALINE.

You spit out what was left of the hot chocolate in your mouth. 

Thankfully, you had some of your mind about you and managed not to ruin your painting by turning your head…couldn’t say the same for the cafe wall though. Rustic brick now splattered with a lovely, Pollock-esque spray of brown.

Oops.

But Jungkook and…Adaline? That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

He hasn’t mentioned anything about this to you. You speak to him every day, see him almost every day, and nothing? Not a peep? A morsel? A hint? Nothing?

Maybe you two aren’t as close as you thought you were.

To be fair, you didn’t tell him about Nel. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen or heard much from Jungkook since Sunday, which is unusual. He’s normally stuffing your inbox full of messages as the sun rises and sets, yet he’s sent maybe two a day since then.

You thought he was just busy with schoolwork.

Spiraling, you can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been seeing one another. How long he’s kept this little secret—not that it’s any of your business anyway, but he’s always seemed so open with you, with just about everything. So the fact that he kept this from you? What does that say? 

Does he think you’d react like any other girl? That you would scream and cry and mourn and tell him he’s making a mistake, that you’re his true love? Like Adaline would if he weren’t dating her? 

As if! And he knows that.

He knows that…right?

Doesn’t matter. Yes it does. No it doesn’t. 

Ugh! Whatever!

Does he even know who Adaline really is? Or does she put on a mask in front of him too, like she does everyone else. She must because now you wonder how he could even possibly like someone like her, knowing…well her! 

Bitchiness and duchess-ness aside, you and Adaline are incredibly similar, and Jungkook has never had any interest in you whatsoever, thank god. You and Adaline are both fine arts majors, both top of your class, talented, driven. You both work tirelessly for what you want, and don’t let others get in your way to success. Though only one of you will cheat if you have too, morals be damned. You both want your lives to yourself, to make your own path, to be trailblazers in your chosen fields.  

That kind of woman doesn’t seem like Jungkook's type. 

He needs someone who will follow him, and allow him to lead the nation. Someone who is okay submitting to him and his needs for the good of the people and the betterment of the Western Shores. He needs a politically inclined cheerleader, for lack of better phrasing. And that isn’t Adaline at all…or you, if you're still putting yourself in this conversation, which you’re not.  

Also, wasn’t it a rule that princes could only marry princesses? Or was it that nice, genuine people shouldn’t end up with assholes who use and abuse those around them for social status and power? And isn’t that a thing for him too—that he hates when people use him for his name?

So how could he go for her? You can’t fathom a goddamn reason as to why—

Ah…Well.

You can, but you hate it. 

Adaline is beautiful, and while no, not a princess, she does have a title the prince can be seen with in public without ridicule, friend or more than. Someone who wouldn’t be looked at like a charity case or a flavour of the week. Someone who’s used to the media. Adaline doesn’t have to hide from them. Isn’t scared to be seen by them with him. It wouldn’t ruin her future. It’ll only add to i—Wait.

Holy shit.

Adaline comes from one of the most influential families on the Eastern Shores. One with a lot of political power. Like, best friends with the Queen of the Eastern Shores, political power. Though she was only ever graced with sons. Adaline’s probably the closest thing she has to a daughter.

A marriage between Jungkook and Adaline could potentially unify the two sides again. 

Jungkook and Adaline could re-unite the East and West after centuries of war and separation, and current amicable co-existence.

Now that’s a reason he would date her. to become power couple of the century.

The next step in history. 

The whole idea of them makes more and more sense the more you think about it. Adaline, darling of the East marrying the future King of the West. And your stomach curls in on itself. 

Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

And you pray to whatever god or gods there are in this universe that he keeps her away from you and out of your conversations. Jungkook’s relationship isn’t any of your business, nor your interest, but you don’t know how well you’d be able to keep your mouth shut about her if he asks anything. 

You know he likes that you’re honest. That you don’t hide things from him others would just to please him. But at what point do you put that aside to keep the peace in an otherwise very comfortable and still blossoming friendship? At what point does honesty become an obstacle rather than a building block?

You know that if Jungkook ever meets Nel and happens not to like him he would keep his mouth shut, mostly. Hopefully. He may give you a hard time but that’s just him. Jungkook knows your relationship is important to you, that it and Nel, make you happy. He would respect that.

So again, who are you to speak ill of the person he’s chosen for himself? Maybe he knows something you don’t, sees something in her that you haven’t.

Just…Why did it have to be Adaline?

He could have anyone, anyone—on campus, in the West, the East, for the love of god, he could have anyone in the entire ass realm he wants! It’s easy to forget when he speaks with his mouth full, dresses in baggy, comfy clothes, and whines about movie choices, but Jungkook is still Prince of the Western Shores. 

He’s still the most eligible bachelor on the continent.  

Yet somehow he chose the one person you can’t stand to be within 1000 feet of. He chose the one person you never thought he would’ve liked for himself because underneath everything, she is everything he claims to hate. 

He chose Adaline Dupree. 

So yeah, you wonder why he hid it from you. Why he felt like he couldn’t tell you. Sure, you hated her, but he doesn’t know that. Probably.

Maybe his love life is something he keeps private? Everyone has that right, and maybe that’s what he’s used to doing due to his every choice being splashed on every news and media outlet there is. 

You roll your eyes. Merciless vultures. 

So maybe he’s not used to sharing this side of himself with others. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you anything. 

And with all of this chaos now flitting around your brain, you failed to notice the little slice of pain behind your sternum the more they ricochet around up there. You’re hurt. 

You didn’t expect it to hurt. 

Out of everything you could feel about this: confusion, anger, exasperation, annoyance, you don’t feel any of them. You just feel upset that he didn’t come to you about it. Didn’t feel like he could discuss it with you. 

You are the person your friends—old and new—come to talk to. Always have been. You’re the one who has the rational, well thought out advice. The common sense distributor. The one sought out to help, regardless of the situation. 

And you love it. You love that you’re able to help your friends. Love that they trust you with such things. That you’re the person they seek assistance and guidance from. The ear they bounce their thoughts off of. You’ve always been told you have ‘knowledge beyond your years’ as your mother says. You take pride in that. It gives your life that much more meaning. 

So even though you don’t want to, and know you shouldn’t, because it has nothing to do with you and you know that…you’re taking this as somewhat of a personal blow. 

Maybe you’re losing your touch. You hope not.

But, you need to react like you normally would. Like you still hate the prince for how he humiliated Yuri, just like she hates Adaline for you. Solidarity between best friends, even if it’s fake.

Come on YN you got this, you think to yourself.

You [2:40pm]: I almost feel sorry for him. After how he treated you tho? They deserve each other

No they don’t, no they don’t, no they don’t. 

He deserves so much better.

SlurryYuri [2:40pm]: I’m just surprised he went for her tbh SlurryYuri [2:41pm]:  isnt she like a total bitch? To you at least?  SlurryYuri [2:41pm]: like just knowing what I do from the tiny bit of time I spent with him, she doesn’t really seem to be his type

Vindication!

You [2:42pm]: uh yeah, like 100% yes. Shes a rich party girl who doesnt know the word punishment, always gets what she wants, regardless if she works for it or not. And takes it when she especially doesnt deserve it You [2:43pm]: probably explains how she got him 🙄

Vivian pops outside to check in, and takes the couple steps to reach your table, some napkins and a large cup of water in hand.

“Hey! Are you okay? I saw that spit take and one; wow, that was impressive. But two; is everything alright?” she asks, passing you the napkins. The water gets thrown on the wall to wash off the splatter.

You wipe up your chin and remnants of projected hot chocolate on the table.

“Sorry, thank you. Yes, I’m fine,” you lie easily. A little scared of how easy it’s becoming. “I just learned some really shocking news is all. I shouldn’t have read it with a full mouth.”

“Oh! That makes sense. I hope whatever it is turns out fine.” 

“Thanks, me too.” 

You know Vivian means well, but she doesn’t know that that is the very last thing you want. You want Adaline’s corruptive, cutthroat, cruel nature away from Jungkook. 

But is he just Jungkook anymore?  

You’ve spent enough time together to consider him a friend, a close friend even. You’ve grown to care for him, platonically, similar to the way you do Yuri. And the fact that you want Adaline as far away from him as she can get so he doesn't go through whatever shit she’ll inevitably get him wrapped up in, definitely says something.

Adaline loves many things—art, fashion, publicity—but the thing she likes better than anything else? 

Attention.

She thrives on it. The more eyes on her the better. She’s a ‘there’s no such thing as bad press’ type, and you worry what that means for him.

Especially now that she’s taken them public—because you know it was her that did it, he would have never—and she’s going to be the hottest topic in all of the newest news cycles. 

Say they’ve been seeing one another since the beginning of the school year? Just a guess, but a likely correct one—you shiver at the thought. That’s less than seven weeks to get to know one another before camera crews and reporters start breathing down their necks. They’ll ask and comment on everything you thought you might go through at one point. But unlike you, Adaline will face it head on with a smile and win them over. Gladly welcome them with open arms.

Because exactly like Jungkook fears with everyone new, she desires everything a relationship with him would give her. 

Status, fame, power, wealth, brand sponsorships, popularity, jealousy, people wishing they could be her. You couldn’t build a better trap to lure her into if you tried. 

Jungkook is potentially unknowingly feeding her already enormous ego simply by publicly dating her. And it dawns on you that your classes with her are going to become even more insufferable.

Great. 

You don’t even know if she’s going to care that she has him. As wonderful, kind and talented as Jungkook is, you have a very good sense that she’ll be just like rest; happy to receive what he can give her, and not a damn to be given about him.

So now you worry. You worry for him and for his safety and for his feelings.

Because that’s what friends do. 

Right?

“Hey.”

You look up to see Jungkook rounding the back corner to the cafe, backpack slung over a shoulder, mask, hat and hoodie all too familiar. You’d be able to spot him a mile away now, it’s all in his posture and eyes. 

Maybe he should invest in some sunglasses. 

And slouch.

You’re elbows deep in yellow and brown paint from the sunflowers that now fill the canvas in front of you. You’ve been experimenting with texture, oil paint thicker in some places to give off a more 3D effect. Stripes of green carved into the medium by the edge of a long palette knife mimic stems, and fat leaves placed with precision also riddle the cloth. 

As he nears, you try your best not to come off as upset, pissed off or worried when you reply.

“Hey,” you fail miserably, sounding exactly like you’re all kinds of upset, and pissed off, and worried. 

Shit.

Like always, he notices immediately.

“Everything okay?” he’s taking his spot at the table beside you, the one that seats four, having abandoned his original one weeks ago. 

You two both found yourselves here so frequently that over time, he started sitting next to you without asking. Always in the same spots. Always side by side. Him at the closest chair to you, you at the same one you always have.

Sure, you two shared movie nights and fun messages, you talk everyday and pretty much talk about whatever you want. But when it comes to academics, he knows he has to tread water a little differently around you. He can’t constantly start conversations the way he would at movie night when you’re at the greenhouse cafe. You’re here to work and to study, and if he wants to be there too, he has to respect that about you, and know not to take it personally. 

So you work together in comfortable silence most of the time, occasionally breaking it to have a conversation, get snacks, or pose for one another’s homework. It’s become another routine you share, an unspoken agreement that when you were both there at the same time, you worked together. 

And you haven’t minded since that first time. The one when you decided to say yes to your friendship. 

You welcome it. Welcome him. His presence. 

Company’s nice to have when it’s wanted. 

When it’s him.

And whether you know it or not, you seem to work better when you are in each other's immediate orbit. You work better when he works alongside you, able to focus better due to body doubling and  to have a second opinion at the ready when you need it. Just like he worked better when you worked alongside him, a willing model any time he needed, and an open ear when he wanted to work something out.  

You two just work. And because of this, he also picks up when something isn’t quite right with the atmosphere you two have created. 

Play it off YN.

“Yeah, just focused. Sorry.”

He doesn’t believe you for a second. When you focus you have a very distinct look on your face, eyes clearer, an eyebrow constantly quirked in self reflection, and that isn’t the one you have on right now. 

But he lets it slide. For now. Somethings up with you, and he knows better than to push you before you’re ready.

“That’s okay. I’m running in, need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you go back to painting, barely acknowledging him and shutting out the outside world. 

Yeah, something’s definitely up.

You’re ignoring him so hard you don’t notice Jungkook lifting your hot chocolate just enough to feel it’s empty. 

Vivian’s behind the counter as he enters and takes off his mask to flash her a wide smile.

“Hey Vivian, how are you today?”

She blushes like she does every time he comes in, hands slowing in their task. 

“Hey JK, I’m good. You?” He had to ask her about a hundred times to drop the ‘your highnesses,’ ‘you majesty’s,’ and ‘prince’s.’ Telling her it really was okay, and that no, she wasn’t going to get in trouble for it. It took her some time, but eventually she came around and it’s made his experience here so much better. So much more normal.

She’d settled on JK because ‘it makes me feel like I’m listening to what you want while also not feeling guilty and weird about calling you Jungkook without the prince part.’

He could work with that logic.

“I’m alright, could I get my usual and a hot chocolate for YN? With a little extra secret ingredient if you're so inclined?” You shared the not so secret stash secret with Jungkook about a week after you said yes.  “She seems upset. Have you noticed anything off lately? Has she said anything to you?”

Jungkook peruses the pastry display while Vivian starts on his drink.

“Not really, she did a wicked spit take earlier about some news her friend told her, but said she was fine, just surprised. Besides that, focused maybe? Or maybe the opposite of that and a little distracted?” She thinks for a second. “Does she have an exam coming up that you know about? She gets a little weird before those.”

He knows exactly what’s meant by that. Witnessed it himself, bunny slippers and all.

But no, you don’t. Your midterms aren’t until the first week of November, nearly two weeks away. You started studying for them last week.

He spots egg tarts in the back corner of the pastry display, hiding. Perfect.

“I don’t think that’s it, but thanks though. I’ll get it out of her eventually, especially if I have one of those egg tarts to butter her up first,” he says in a questioning tone to ask for one while pointing at them.

Vivian smiles a knowing smile. He wants to know what it means because she’s worn it around him for a while now, and he’s half tempted to ask at this point. 

“I think that could be arranged.”

Jungkook pays and heads to your tables again. You’re still locked into your own world of colour and canvas. He subtly sets down the hot chocolate and bagged tart so that you won’t notice until you pop the bubble you’re in.

Halfway through a business assignment he hears your surprise. The weird look on your face finally breaking, a grateful one taking its place as you peek at him.

A soft, genuine, “thank you,” finds his ears as your lips meet lid, and you can’t meet his eye. He knows you often forget to drink or eat when you’re in the zone. 

Maybe now with a warm drink and some goodies in your belly, you’re willing to talk about it.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks again.

Your deep sigh and unfocused gaze says enough to him. 

You are willing to talk.

Quietly, almost ashamed sounding, you ask, “Why didn't you tell me about her?”

Her? 

Oh.

Oh… 

You meant Adaline. Why hadn’t he told you about Adaline. 

“Why did I find out an hour ago from Yuri screaming at me through text messages and not from you? Is it something you’re private about? Do you not trust me?”

The truth was that he was hoping to keep it under wraps for a bit longer, actually, hoping you never found out so he wouldn’t have to explain the reason why. 

He still doesn’t have too, and he won’t. Not the real reason.

He won’t ruin things. He can’t.

But he also should have known better. Should have known that not telling you would hurt you instead. Of course he trusted you.

You talk everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes just to check in. You hang out during the week, whether it be at the cafe like you are right now, or for Sunday movie night. 

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it was plenty when he thinks about how much time you two have already spent together, how much you’ve gotten to know one another. 

How comfortable you are in each other’s presence. 

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it feels like you’ve always been there with him, listening, cheering, supporting.

Six weeks isn't a long time, and yet it feels like it’s been forever.

Of course you’re hurt he didn’t tell you. So he doesn’t lie to you, but he also doesn’t tell you the full truth.

“Oh…uh, that.” He rubs a hand at the nape of his neck. “That just kind of happened recently actually, like Monday recently. My father’s been really pressuring me to find someone to court,” and I couldn’t go with my first choice. “So I did.”

“And you went with Adaline?” You ask carefully.

“Uh, yeah? Is there something wrong with her?”

Adaline isn’t his first, second or tenth choice. She's his father’s choice. Might as well appease him and at least try with this girl. It’s going…fine, so far. 

Adaline wanted to make it social media official as soon as possible, wanted what he could give her, like everyone else. Like he expected. And so he willingly suffered through a photo session where she staged everything to make it look perfectly unposed and natural. Even though none of it was. 

She’d told him to put his arms around her waist and kiss her forehead, and it worked. The picture wasn’t bad, they both looked great. But he hated it anyway. It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, or sincere. It wasn’t a picture of two fools drunk on love, wanting to capture something beautiful for their future selves to look back on to reminisce over.

It was an uncomfortable hour and a half of touching and kissing a complete stranger, and it is the complete opposite of what he wants in a relationship. 

He wants genuine and carefree and candid. He wants honest, true feelings and social media posts saved for anniversaries and birthdays instead of using them as a mini documentary of every part of his life through pictures. 

He wants shitty birthday cakes made from scratch, and blurry polaroid pictures of kisses in the rain to put in his wallet when he’s away from them. He wants silly nicknames and inside jokes no one else will understand. 

He wants midnight walks hand in hand under moonlight and quirky habits he picks up from them. He wants pictures of precious moments and holidays celebrated between just the two of you and movie nights under blanket forts with popcorn and hot chocolate and egg tarts. 

He wants real.

He wants authentic. 

He wants love.

Not some staged artificial bullshit for an online presence that means nothing once you’re dead. 

But this is new and exciting for Adaline. He understands that a relationship with him is a very big deal, that she’s not used to it yet, and that it hasn’t been nearly long enough for him to see the true her yet. 

It’s only been 44 hours. Not that he’s counting.

So he’s going to give her some time, and have some faith that maybe she shows him that side of herself if it exists. He doesn't think she's going to change all that much for several reasons, the first being her enormous reputation, and the second being that she’s a politician's daughter, but he’s going to at least try. The way he hopes she will.

And if nothing does change, and she stays the exact same, at least she’s pretty enough to distract him. 

He knows that’s not the most mature or princely thing to do or think. In fact, he knows it’s quite asshole-ish of him, but if Adaline’s going to openly use him for her own personal gain, why shouldn’t he be able to use her just a little bit too? 

She isn’t unfamiliar with political relationships, having been born from one, so he doesn’t think she would be against it either. And it’s not like he’ll be mistreating her, quite the opposite in fact.

He’ll shower her with expensive gifts and happily take however many pictures she wants. He’ll smother her in physical affection and get or do whatever she needs in order to make her happy. 

Because as much as she clearly wants this relationship with him for whatever reason, he desperately needs it more with every passing day. He needs somewhere to put everything he’s feeling. And if that happens to be in a beautiful woman his father approves of who he could possibly, eventually grow feelings for? It’s a win-win in his book.

But at the same time, sometimes he really hates the shit he has to navigate in his Royal Life.

While Jungkook is caught in his thought spiral, you bite your tongue. Like actually bite your tongue. 

Don’t say shit Y/N. 

Don't say anything.

It’s not your business. What they have together and what’s between you and Adaline are completely separate, unrelated things. One’s a rivalry and one's a relationship. Those are not the same. 

At. All. 

So, still untrusting of your mouth, you shake your head and dodge his question by changing the direction of the conversation.

“Why did you go public so quickly?” you ask, feeling like it’s the safest question you can muster. “It’s literally only been two days.”

He shrugs. “She wanted to, and I didn’t say no.”

“Courseshedid,” you mutter under your breath. That should’ve been red flag number one. Two days? Who goes social media official after two days!?

“What?”

“Nothing,” you try your best to give him the closest thing to a smile you can currently muster, forcibly removing any acid from every word. “I hope she makes you happy.”

He doesn’t tell you she was hand picked by the king for him.

That at twenty-four, he still isn’t pulling all of his own strings. It’s pathetic.

“Me too.” 

He hopes she’ll help more than anything. Even if it’s just for a little while. “I’ve never been in a public relationship before. But the kingdom and my father seem to like her, so I’m sure I will too, with time.” 

It takes all of your focus not to roll your eyes.

Of course they do. Of course the King already likes her, she’s got the attitude and knowledge for politics, so she’s perfect! Strong potential to be the heartless, ruthless Queen to what you already know will be Jungkook's kind and giving King. 

Great! Just great. That’s just…great…

Maybe you’re biased. Maybe there’s something in her that you can’t see because of your past with her. 

Maybe they really are perfect for one another and you just refuse to see it. Opposites attract, isn’t that what they say? Well Jungkook and Adaline couldn’t be more opposite of one another.

So you decide that you won’t let your personal feelings get in the way. That you’ll keep the peace and support his choice, regardless of your opinion of her, even if you hate his choice. 

And you really hate his choice.

“I have no doubt.”

The seat heater in the car you rented to pick Nel up from the airport keeps your tush toasty while you drive. 

Friday night has never felt so exciting!

You can barely sit still, the leg not pressing the pedals won’t stop bouncing and you have to sit on your hands at stop lights to try and keep calm.

God you missed him, it's only been two months since you last saw him, and yet it feels like forever. 

You have the piece of printer paper with ‘Smoosh’ printed on it in the biggest font you could have horizontally. It’s something you do every year, and every year it never fails to bring the biggest smile to Nel’s face when you wave it wildly the second you see him.

Pulling up to the terminal you keep your eyes peeled for the first parking spot you can find. Never an easy feat at this particular airport but you manage to find one somewhere in the J lot under section 1, whatever that meant. All you care about right now is that you’re decently close to the doors as you grab your phone, bag, sign, and that you’re perfectly on time.

Entering through sliding doors, you find the waiting area mostly empty, so you pick the best place to sit as you wait for his flight to land: dead center and up front. 

You can’t wait. Just a few more minutes and you’ll see him. 

You can’t wait. You can’t wait. You can't wait!

Your phone dings and you jump at it, looking for the ‘I’ve landed’ text from Nel, but it’s not from Nel.

It’s from Jungkook.

Me [10:42pm]: See you in a week. I hope you enjoy your time with Nel.

That sounds okay, right? It sounds neutral? Safe?

Like he hasn’t been dreading this week since that day you told him about it?

Jungkook hopes so. Because he wants you to enjoy your week off.

Your week off with Nel. 

And not him. 

That’s normal, he has to remind himself. That he’s not anyone particularly special to you, just a friend. Not someone you would go out of your way for to spend all your free time with over break. Not even for two hours on Sunday nights.

Just a regular, average, nothing important about him…

Friend. 

He doesn’t want to feel like this. Doesn’t want to have all of these… whatever these feelings are, about and for you.

He really doesn’t want to. But more than that, he can’t. 

He can’t have any sort of non-platonic feelings for the first person who didn’t give a shit about who he was. For the person who makes him feel more like himself than anyone else. 

For the person who has a boyfriend. 

For the person who isn’t his girlfriend.

For the person who’s you.

But he can’t fucking help it!

So he’s been shoving them down, down, down. So far down that he’s able to function around you. 

Because it’s you. 

You’re kind, and caring. Talented, beautiful, giving. Driven, smart. You respect what he asks for and what he wants for himself, not because he's the Prince demanding, but because it's him—because it’s Jungkook—that asks you, and you liste–

No! Stop it. He can’t. He can’t!

Stop, stop, stop—

You have Nel! 5 years in, loving, loyal boyfriend, probably soon to be more after graduation, Nel.

It’s expected that you would spend what little time off you have with the boyfriend you barely get to see, wouldn’t it? Makes sense that every second you have, is saved for him? 

For being happy with who makes you happy? 

Jungkook wants to see you happy. And Nel makes you happier than he’s ever seen you before, so he can’t be too upset with the guy, even though he wants to be. He wants to hate him. But how could he hate someone that gave you the smile that completely shatters his heart. 

Picasso [10:43pm]: Thanks! I will. See you soon😊

With a broken smile, he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket.

He’s up against a wall, red cup in his hand filled with something that he’s barely touched yet, trying not to be too noticeable.

Adaline’s dragged him to some party on campus he really doesn't care about. But she said it would be good to be seen out together now that things are official. 

Out in the open, for everyone to see. For everyone to talk about.

So he went, because she asked him to. 

And now he’s regretting it. The music is shit, the people smell and everything he touches is damp or sweaty. This isn’t a part of the university experience he ever intended on participating in, but here he is. 

Adaline appears from the crowd, walking over to where he stands, a cup of her own in one hand and the other finding its way to his neck. 

One thing Jungkook’s glad for is the alcohol. Something to help his racing thoughts, pounding heart, and roiling gut. Something to drown out the world. Even if he’s only had two gulps so far. 

More, then. 

Taking a hefty swig he revels in the burn that crawls down his throat. It feels good, it makes him feel less. So he takes another one and another, and then pours his turmoiled feelings about you and Nel into Adaline’s lips. Shoving them down, further and further, until it’s like they were never even there in the first place.

The only thing that's there now is the fire in his stomach, Adaline, and her cherry flavoured lip gloss.

Chapter Six: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

A/N 2: I'm so sorry this took for literal ever. I never intend on taking forever but unfortunately real life gets in the way and I'm left with no creative energy to output writing I'm proud of.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[shimmernspice]

Heartbeats and Hockey Pucks

Pairing: Hockey!Vi x reader

Request: anything with loser!vi like idk maybe college au and like reader is popular rich kid and shes something with sports honestly idc i j need loser vi.

Warnings: 18+, clumsy Vi, major pining

You're not sure when Vi started hovering around you like an eager, oversized puppy, but you've learned to expect it. At parties, in the dining hall, hell even between classes - you catch glimpses of her, always too aware of your presence. Always looking like she's debating whether to say something. It would be creepy if she wasn't so utterly terrible at hiding it.

She's on the hockey team, one of the best players, from what Caitlyn says. But she carries herself with the kind of awkwardness that you wouldn't expect for someone so athletically gifted. She could bodycheck someone into the boards without hesitation, but holding a conversation with you? That's where she stumbles.

It's almost endearing.

Almost.

You're halfway through your iced coffee, scrolling mindlessly through your phone when a shadow falls over your table. Looking up, you find Vi standing there, shifting her weight like she's preparing for impact.

"Hey," she says, gripping the strap of her hockey bag like it's the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. "Uh. You busy Friday night?"

You blink. "Depends. Why?"

She glances away, then back to you, then away again, like she's running through a dozen different exit strategies but forcing herself to stay put. You caught a glimpse of her reddening ears every time she turned.

"We've got a game. It's uh, a pretty big one if you wanna come. Or like, Y'know. If you don't have anything better to do. Which you probably do. Obviously."

It's kind of impressive how she manages to make an invitation sound like an emergency.

You tilt your head, considering her. "You want me to come?"

She makes an aggressively strangled noise and clears her throat. "I mean yeah but like- not in a weird way! Just support. For the team..."

You sip your coffee, watching her squirm. "Right. The team."

She nods too fast. "Yeah exactly, the team."

Her ears are bright red now, fingers flex nervously around the strap. She looks like she's about five seconds away from melting into a puddle on the floor. You should let her off the hook, you really should.

But where's the fun in that?

"Yeah for sure," you say, standing as your next class approaches. You let your hand brush her arms as you pass. 'See you later, Vi."

She doesn't respond immediately, and when you glance back over she's standing still, staring at the spot where your skin touched hers.

Absolutely doomed.

────────────────────────────────────────────

The locker room smells like sweat and cheap deodorant. The kind that only barely masks the stench of hockey gear that's been through too many games and not enough washes. Vi sits on the bench, hunched over as she laces up her skates, hyperfocused like it's the only thing keeping her from spiraling.

"You good, champ?" Sevika drawls from the other side of the room.

Vi grunts.

"Sure about that?" Sevika's smile is razor-sharp. "You've been tying that same lace for the past three minutes."

Vi yanks it tighter than necessary, nearly cutting off the circulation to her foot. "I'm all good."

Sevika raises her right brow. "Right. Nothing to do with a certain rich kid sitting up in the stands right now, watching your every move?"

"Not judging," Sevika continues. "I mean, if I had someone that pretty coming to my game I'd wanna impress them too. Shame if, I dunno, you made an ass of yourself out there."

"Sevika," Vi warns.

"Don't worry," Sevika slaps Vi's back hard enough to jostle her forward. "Just play the game. And if you embarass yourself then at least she'll remember you for something."

Vi mutters a string of curses to herself as she stands, shaking her nerves out. It's fine. It's just a game, just like any other one.

Except it isn't because you're there. And Vi is completely, irreversibly skewed.

────────────────────────────────────────────

You settle into your seat trying to ignore the knot of tension in your stomach. You're not nervous for the game, you're just...feeling something. It's probably nothing.

Caitlyn nudges you with her elbow, leaning in with a teasing smile. "You know, it's kind of cute how you keep staring at her," she says, nodding to the rink.

You roll your eyes, but she's not wrong. After months of Vi's very obvious pinning you were completely surprised that she even invited you to the game.

Vi's team takes the ice, and the sight of her in her full gear, skating with purpose and precision, makes your heart skip a beat. You can't deny it- there's something magnetic about her. Her awkwardness was part of the charm, but on ice it's like she's in her element.

At least, that's what you think until she spots you.

From across the rink Vi's eyes catch yours. There's a brief moment in Vi's mind where she's trying to convince herself that you being here changes nothing. The game, focus on the game, she reminds herself. This is totally a normal game and I'm not trying to impress her.

You arch your brow, raising a hand to wave. Caitlyn watches you with a grin tugging on her lips. "Ooh she noticed," she whispered, leaning closer to you. "Bet you she gets nervous and messes up."

You throw her a glance, half-exasperated, but deep down you're hoping she's wrong.

But of course, Caitlyn's right.

And just as you thought it - Vi tries something dumb.

During a break in the action, Vi glides to the center of the rink, glancing at the crowd with a hopeful look in her eyes. You can practically hear her mentally chanting, "This is it, this is the moment."

She goes for a trick.

A simple one. She's going to spin, toss the puck in the air, and catch it on her stick with a flourish. It's a move she's pulled off in practice a dozen times.

Except the universe has other plans today.

Vi spins, but the puck slips from her stick, sailing through the air and landing smack in the ice in front of her. She slips and lands flat on her back. The crowd erupts into a mix of groans and chuckles, but all you can focus on it the sound of her muffled cursing.

Caitlyn bursts out laughing, leaning to whisper, "You were saying?"

You throw her a glare but your heart squeezes in sympathy for Vi. You wonder if she'll get up. She does, and then - Vi does the most Vi thing ever.

She shoots up with the speed of someone trying to outrun a mistake, face flushed but stubborn. She gives the crowd a sheepish grin, raising her hand like she planned the entire disaster. "Totally meant to do that," she says, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Her words came out like a half-joke half-apology.

You feel a wave of affection for her awkwardness. It's like she's been shot out of a cannon and is trying to recover mid-air. You can't help it, you laugh too even though you're trying to keep it down.

"She's something," you say, watching Caitlyn from the corner of your eye. She nudges you, "I swear if you don't ask her out after this she's going to go crazy."

You roll your eyes but your chest tightens. You don't need Caitlyn to point it out - you know your heart racing in your chest isn't for nothing. You don't know how you never realized, but after months of her awkwardness and stumbling you grew curious.

But watching Vi stand there, owning her mistake like it's part of the plan, made you realize something else.

As if she senses it, Vi looks up to meet your gaze. Vi's breath catches, her lips curling into the brightest smile you've ever seen. And there's something in the way she holds your gaze that makes your heart skip.

She knows.

You don't have to say anything; she already recognizes the shift in your eyes - the way you're looking at her, something more than the fleeting gazes you've passed her way.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the moment she's been waiting for.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 29: Ghosts of the Past

Rating: Teen Audiences

Warnings: Protective!Paige, Azzi, Ice, Mentions of Y/N’s Ex, Panic Attacks

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x !Photographer Fem Reader

Fandom: Women’s Basketball

Summary: Why now...

Welcome to the chapter 29 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Shopping trips with the team were always filled with laughter, banter, and an unrelenting amount of teasing. It was one of those things that felt like a welcome distraction from everything else. Today was no different. Paige, Azzi, Ice, and I were in our usual group, having fun as we made our way through the aisles. The others had split off to check out a sneaker store just a few blocks down, leaving the four of us to do a little damage in a nearby boutique.

"Are you seriously trying to convince me that green looks good on everyone?" Azzi asked, holding up a neon green hoodie, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

I snorted, glancing over at Paige, who was smirking at me. "I’m just saying," Paige teased. "Some of us can pull it off better than others."

"You mean like you?" Ice chimed in, causing Paige to give a dramatic shrug.

"Obviously," Paige responded, looking pleased with herself.

Azzi rolled her eyes. "Let’s get this over with before Paige starts modeling for us."

The lighthearted atmosphere filled the space, and for a moment, I felt the weight of the past few weeks lift. Between school, practice, and my constant juggling act, I hadn’t realized how much I needed this—just the simple joy of being with people I cared about.

But then, as I turned a corner of the store, the world seemed to freeze. My heart stuttered in my chest.

Standing just a few feet away, browsing through a rack of jackets, was someone I thought I’d never have to see again. My ex.

I froze, the blood draining from my face. The warmth that had settled in me moments ago disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in my bones.

Paige’s voice broke through my panic. "Y/N?" she asked softly, stepping closer. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, my eyes locked on the figure in front of me. I could feel my hands begin to shake as memories from that toxic relationship flooded my mind. The manipulation, the gaslighting, the verbal jabs—everything that once felt suffocating was suddenly there, fresh and painful.

"Why are you back here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice unsteady. I could barely even hear it over the roar of my heartbeat.

Azzi, noticing my sudden shift in energy, stepped up to my other side. "Who’s this?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Before I could answer, the guy turned, his eyes locking with mine. "Y/N? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here!" He said, his tone too casual, too comfortable for someone who had hurt me so badly.

Azzi's arms crossed as she shot a glare at him. "Who’s this?" she repeated, her voice laced with protectiveness.

"I’m her ex," the guy replied, his eyes flicking between Azzi and Paige. He was trying to figure out the situation. "We dated her freshman year."

I felt my knees go weak as the walls I had built so carefully around my past began to crumble. Paige immediately noticed the change in me, her hand instinctively finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice quiet but firm.

I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short bursts, my chest tight with anxiety. My ex’s presence alone was enough to send me spiraling.

Azzi’s voice was sharp and commanding as she addressed him. "Maybe you should leave."

"What? I’m not doing anything wrong," he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You’re making her uncomfortable," Paige said, her voice steely and authoritative.

His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the confusion on his face. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi, and now bye," Ice’s voice rang out from behind us, her words leaving no room for argument.

Azzi and Ice stood like a wall between me and my ex, their eyes fixed on him with a glare that would make anyone back off. In a matter of seconds, they had him out of the store, leaving me surrounded by the people who would always have my back.

I was still trembling, my breath uneven as I tried to regain control of my racing heart. Paige stepped closer, her hands cupping my face, her touch gentle yet firm. "Hey, hey," she whispered softly. "Look at me."

I couldn’t help it—tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, but everything came flooding back. "I... I didn’t want to see him again, Paige," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Why now? Why here?"

Paige’s hands rubbed comforting circles on my arms as she leaned her forehead against mine. "You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore." Her words were calm, soothing, like a balm on the wounds I didn’t even realize were still raw.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, the tears breaking free.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Paige said gently, brushing away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. "You’ve been through a lot, and you don’t owe him or anyone anything."

The rest of the team returned, the air filled with quiet tension. Ice, Azzi, and KK had made sure my ex was gone, but the damage lingered in the pit of my stomach. KK was the first to speak up. "What happened?" Her voice was laced with concern.

"Her ex showed up," Ice muttered, her tone sharp. "Total creep."

Paige wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "We’re going back to my dorm," she said firmly, her protective instincts flaring. "We’ll figure this out there."

At the dorm, things felt a little calmer, though my nerves were still shot. I sat curled up on Paige’s bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders, sipping on a cup of tea she had made for me. I didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. The memories were still too fresh, too painful.

Paige sat beside me, her presence calming, her fingers gently lacing through mine. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice quiet, giving me the space I needed.

I shook my head. "Not right now. But…thank you. For everything."

"You don’t have to thank me," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I’ll always protect you."

I leaned into her, letting her warmth and comfort settle me. "I know," I whispered. "I know."

Later that night, after I had finally managed to sleep, the nightmares came.

I woke up, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as though I was back in that dark, toxic relationship. I gasped for air, feeling trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. The panic rose in my chest, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

I tried to calm myself down, but the images were still there, haunting me—his face, the way he used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, that I was nothing.

But then, suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped my face. Paige was there, her voice soft and steady as she whispered, "Hey, look at me. You’re safe."

I turned into her, the tears falling freely now. "I can’t breathe, Paige. I can’t—"

"Shh," Paige soothed, her hands running down my back as she gently rocked me. "Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."

I followed her lead, focusing on her voice, her presence, the way she always seemed to ground me when everything else fell apart.

"I’ve got you," she whispered. "You’re safe. You’re here with me, and no one can hurt you. Not anymore."

Slowly, I felt my breathing steady, the panic that had gripped me loosening its hold.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky. "I’m sorry for waking you."

Paige smiled softly, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always."

I snuggled closer to her, my heart finally beginning to settle. "I’m lucky to have you," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of the girl who would always protect me.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @elalfywhore .... (more to be added)

[boybandbaby]

Start Over (Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader)

word count: 2233

warnings/tags: exes to lovers, alcohol, being half naked, flirting, tears, as always if i missed anything let me know

note: do yall prefer when writers add summaries or without?

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You’re stood outside Buck’s apartment in a warm colored dress, heels in your hand and jacket lost somewhere at the reception.

It’s been four months since the breakup and you haven't been to his apartment since you came by to collect your things three months ago.

You’ve knocked twice already and a third time would only make you feel more sad and pathetic. Your cousin’s beautiful but extravagant wedding had only added to the months of heartbreak.

Buck was supposed to be there at your side tonight. Instead of dancing with your family and having a good time, you answered too many questions about where Buck was or how he was doing. You lied to everyone stating that he just couldn’t make it due to work.

Only your close family knew that you weren’t together anymore. You wanted to keep it that way. But what you really wanted was to be with Buck, back in his beefy arms and kissing his pretty lips.

After your third drink and no luck warming up in crisp the fall air, you’d made the slightly drunken decision to see him. Though you lost your jacket, you still had the important items in your purse including your phone. With sloppy thumbs, you’d called an Uber and landed at Buck’s apartment.

It’s two am and you’re not sure why you thought he would be up or even home. He’d either be at work or out with friends and family or worse, on a date.

You shake the thought from your head and take a deep breath. Pulling out your phone and opening the Uber app again, you feel tears in your eyes. You should’ve called him first instead of showing up. Would he have even answered or wanted to see you?

Your bare feet stick to the hallway floor, grounding you as you sway. You’re able to use this as an excuse as to why you haven’t left his doorstep yet.

You hear two noises at the same time, the sound of the Uber app notifying you that a driver has accepted your ride request and another chime signaling someone has exited the elevator on your current floor.

You’re already embarrassed and don’t want one of Buck’s neighbors seeing you camped outside his apartment. You finally find the strength to pull yourself away from his door, telling yourself you don’t get a second chance with him.

“Y/n?” His voice is slurred and his cheeks are flushed. He’s stumbling as quietly as he can towards you and his door. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” You point to his shirt. It’s wet around the neck line and chest. You’re not sure if it’s sweat, alcohol or both.

He looks down, laughs, one of your favorite things about him, and runs his hands over his wet shirt. “Yeah, too many shots, I think.” He hiccups and burps.

“I was just leaving, I’m s-sorry for showing up like this.” You apologetically smile and wave bye as you begin to pass him.

“Hey, don’t go.” His fingers brush your bare arms. “You look really pretty. How was the wedding?”

“You remember?” Your hand covers his as he holds onto your bicep.

“Yeah, of course. I still had it in my calendar. I kind of spiraled when I got the notification this morning.” He shrugs. “Do you want to come in? Sober up, warm up? Are you hungry?”

“Yes please, to all three.” You nod and let your hand fall.

Buck's hand caresses your arm, down to your fingers and grabs the heels from your hands like he always used to on date nights. He searches his pockets for his keys and jingles them around his pointer finger when he does.

“Please excuse the mess.” He fumbles to open the door and ushers you in.

“Wow, so messy Buckley.” You laugh, looking around the familiar apartment.

“I think I still have a shirt or two of yours if you want to get changed. You know where everything’s at.” He sets your heels down by the door and locks it behind him.

“I thought you returned everything back to me?” You turn to him, rubbing your arms up and down as he flicks the kitchen light on.

“Did you? I seem to be missing the bracelet I got you for Valentine’s Day last year.” He raises a brow before pulling out a pot and filling it with water.

“That was a gift! That was not going to be returned to you and please don’t tell me you have the black shirt with the embroidered frog on it from that one trip to the zoo." You defend.

“I do.” He smirks.

“I’ve been looking for that everywhere!” You gasp, laughing as you approach him in the kitchen.

“I figured once you couldn’t find it you’d come back and we’d work things out.” He reveals.

“You always could’ve dropped it off at my apartment if you wanted to see me so bad.” You nudge his shoulder.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” His tone is not joking anymore and he quiets down. The apartment is quiet save for the traffic outside and the slow rising boil of the water on the stove.

“I would’ve.” You admit.

“You could have it back?" He says, voice lifting at the end.

You can tell he doesn't want you to have it back by the way he offers it. “No, no. You keep it.”

“What are you going to wear then?”

“This.” You look down at your dress.

“As pretty as you look in that it’s not practical to sleep in.”

“When have I ever been practical.” You both laugh.

“I miss this, I miss us.” He admits.

“Me too.” You sigh. You're not ready to dive into your breakup. At least not yet. “Hey, can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, of course. You need any help in there or?”

“Real cute, Buckley. You can help me up the stairs to get my shirt.”

Buck nods and sets the box of pasta down on the counter. His hands find your hips as he helps you up the steps. “You sit.”

He rummages through his drawer before tossing the shirt to you and a pair of sock. “Do you want a pair of sweats or something?”

“No, this is good. Thanks, Buck.” You’re not moving to head back down stairs so he sits beside you. “New bed set?”

“Yeah. Story is too long and gross to discuss.” He shrugs. It’s too embarrassing he thinks. He made himself so sick the first couple of weeks apart, he had no choice but to throw away the bed set. It was one you’d bought him anyway and it hurt to much to sleep in.

“It’s okay if I stay the night, right?” You hope he says yes. Cuddling with him would make everything okay again even just for the night.

Buck normally would be a gentleman and offer you the bed while he took the couch but he misses you too much. He does turn his back as you strip out of your dress and stays that way when you're ready to head downstairs.

Buck stands two steps below you as you hold onto his shoulders. You guys guide each other back downstairs and he helps you start the shower. “Food should be done by the time you get out. We’ll eat then sleep?” You nod and smile up at him as you sit on the toilet seat. “Call me if you need anything okay?”

You nod and wait for him to exit before peeling the towel off of your body and then your undergarments. You step into the warm water and rinse everything from the night and past 4 months away.

Buck settles in the kitchen, stirring the noodles as the water boils. He hopes this isn’t a one night event and that you’ll leave his life after this. He sees it in your eyes though. You long for him the way he does for you. He feels it in the way you're still comfortable around him and the way you don't hold any malice after your rough breakup.

You’d both ended things as they just got too hard. Busy schedules, too many fights, not enough time spent together creating good memories. He thinks that things can be different this time. He knows the mistakes and how he can try to help prevent them this time.

You’re out before he realizes, padding towards him. He can’t keep his eyes off your bare legs as you approach the kitchen and sit at the counter.

He begins to drain the noodles. “Do you want something to drink?” He calls out.

“Can we share?” You answer his question with a question. He laughs and nods.

“You gonna come and help me carry these up?"

“I’m half naked.” You point out.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He smiles.

“Fine but no peeking.” You hop off the stool and attempt to pull your shirt down.

Buck has already served two bowls of pasta and the biggest cup of water he could find. He stabs the pasta with forks and hands you a bowl. “You go up first mister. I don’t need you looking at my butt.”

“How am I going to make sure you don’t fall?” He cheekily states.

“I’ll hold onto you with my free hand.”

“Okay, fine, that works.” He grumbles, you having bested him.

You hold onto his waistband as you follow him up the steps. He turns around as you run under the covers to cover your legs. He really is a gentleman.

You both sit in silence as you eat, sharing small glances and giggling when you meet each other’s eyes. It’s almost as if you’d never broken up.

You yawn and place your half eaten bowl onto the nightstand. Buck holds the cup of water to your lips and watches the way you gulp the liquid down. You wipe your chin with the back of your hand. “Can we cuddle?”

“Of course.” He smiles and sets the bowl and cup on the nightstand, quickly. He's just as eager to be in your arms as you are his.

You shuffle under the covers as he stands to undress. The damp shirt is pulled from his body and he shuffles out of his jeans. It’s not long before he’s under the covers with you.

His heart is pounding the more he realizes he’s going to be this close to you again. You’re already turned to face his side and watching his every move.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He whispers.

“Night Buck, thank you for letting me in.” You whisper back.

“Thank you for coming by.” He smiles.

Your hands find his under the covers and you give them a quick squeeze.

His eyes squeeze shut as he can feel your breath on his face. It's a mix of alcohol and pasta sauce, matching his. He's straining himself so he doesn’t try to kiss you. He’s wanted to kiss you the moment he saw you at his doorstep. Your eyes are open and you watch to see if he’s sleeping. He’s not and you can tell by the way his eyelids twitch.

“Buck?” You mumble.

“Mhm?” He hums back.

“I miss you.” You confess. “A lot.”

He opens one eye, “yeah? I miss you too.”

“Do you even think we could be together again?” Your voice is small and it breaks his heart but your words give him hope.

“I do.”

“What do I need to do to make things work again?” You bring his knuckles to your lips.

“I think we need to work together to make things work this time." He emphasizes the we. He doesn't want you blaming yourself for the fallout.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.” You sigh, words coming out wobbly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better.” He supplies.

“I know I made a lot of mistakes. I don’t want to do that again.” You cry.

“We both made a lot of mistakes but if we’re both willing to not make them again, I think we could work.”

“I think so too." He wipes the tear from your cheek and traces his finger down to your lips.

"Can I kiss you now?" He shyly asks. You laugh all watery and snotty while nodding. Buck pulls you into him. You're both hot under the covers as your bodies mold together. The kiss is hard and desperate but it's perfect. You lay quietly in each other's arm until you both fall asleep. By then it's nearly 4 in the morning and you're knocked out cold.

You're both so slumped that you don't hear the key in the lock downstairs. “Buck, you forgot your damn phone in my car.” Eddie calls out, closing the door behind him. The apartment is quiet as he enters and he shoves his key in his pocket.

He trudges up the stairs to bother a sleeping Buck but freezes in his tracks when he sees you two curled up with each other. His eyes widen and he wonders how this came about considering Buck didn’t have his phone.

He settles on the idea that you’d come to see Buck on your own. His worries from last night of his broken hearted best friend are gone as he sees that he’s right where he’s supposed to be. With you.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[fake-mouthstatic]

moving in together

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 9. rated G.

💕

"Okay, yeah. Thanks for letting me know."

Buck ends the call, staring blankly at his phone as he tries to figure out how he feels about the news that his apartment is habitable again.

He knows he should be happy.

And yet.

Buck hears the shower shut off and Tommy enters the room a few moments later, a towel wrapped low around his hips as his damp skin steams gently in the cool morning air.

"You okay?" he asks, frowning gently as he moves closer.

"My super just called," Buck says, finally tearing his gaze away from his phone. "My kitchen is done being repaired."

Buck doesn't miss the way Tommy's face goes carefully blank.

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

"That's great," he says, turning away from Buck and towards the dresser.

"Yeah," Buck says evenly, flipping his phone nervously over and over in his hands.

The thing is, as unexpected as it was, he's loved living with Tommy the past three weeks.

Even before temporarily moving in, Buck had spent enough time at Tommy's place that it already felt like home, and that was before the fact that he loved coming home to Tommy, loved sleeping beside him every night and waking up beside him every morning, mismatched shifts notwithstanding.

He loved the silly things too, like seeing their shoes side by side in the hall. Brushing his teeth as Tommy showered. Arguing good-naturedly over how to load the dishwasher.

All the little, domestic things that Buck had worried it might be too soon for that had turned out to be his favourite things about living with Tommy.

Well, almost his favourite; the extremely frequent sex was a tough one to beat in that department.

He'd thought that Tommy felt the same about him being here but his carefully blank expression suddenly has Buck a little worried.

"So uh, I guess I can be out of your hair tomorrow," Buck says, thoughts gently spiralling; of course Tommy didn't want him here. "Once I finish work I can-"

"Or," Tommy interrupts, frowning as he turns around with a pair of socks in one hand and underwear in the other, "you could not."

It's Buck's turn to frown then.

"Not what, go to work?"

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches as if he's holding back a smile.

"Not get out of my hair."

Buck doesn't reply, too busy trying not to let himself get too excited.

"Maybe I don't want you out of my hair," Tommy continues, waving his socks around. "In fact, maybe I kinda like having you in my hair."

Buck's heart flips a somersault in his chest as Tommy steps closer.

"Maybe I'd really like it if you didn't go back to your apartment and moved in here instead. Permanently," he adds, as if to make sure there's no confusion.

He looks adorably nervous, as if Buck would ever say anything but yes to such a suggestion.

"Yes," Buck says, a wide grin splitting his face. "Absolutely yes, I'll move in with you."

[witheringflowr]

Read this if you are struggling with b!ngeing.

** This type of mindset has personally worked for me **

Maybe it is easy to avoid binge urges by distracting and removing yourself from your home to prevent temptation. Maybe it is easy to just walk away and pretend the food never existed. But the problem with that is that you're only putting a band-aid over a bigger issue.

It's only a temporary fix for a short distraction that could potentially spiral into something uncontrollable; out of your reach. You won't be fixing anything. You're only running away from your triggers, but they'll still be there regardless if you're at home or not.

[ THINK OF IT THIS WAY ]

Food can't just grow legs and walk away, nor can it grow wings and fly out the window. It will always be there.

Always.

At the grocery store, in your pantry, wherever it is, food isn't going anywhere, so take a breath and relax. You don't need to binge on it all at once because what's the rush? You can still eat it tomorrow, the day after, or even months or years from now.

There's so much of that same food in stores. Loads of it. The food industry will keep producing it as long as it's around. There's an endless supply, an infinity of it. So, take a step back and remember, your feelings are valid, and food does not have control over you.

YOUR MINDSET IS THE MOST POWERFUL TOOL YOU HAVE. HARNESS IT.

[owensbabygirl]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 °●.○•°●.. 𝐌.𝐒

warnings: smut, heavy?-plot, kissing, cursing, counter- unprotected sex, p in v, pet names (baby), marking up, tell me if there's more. dividers by @issysh3ll

english is not my first language.

the sound of the spiraling mixer kept humming in the background as you added the eggs into the batter, the thick mixture looks almost cartoon-ish to your eyes.

you couldn't sleep, no matter how much you tried to turn and find the cooler side of the pillow, your eyes won't rest, your cold, goosebumped dermis won't stop sending shivers through you, keeping you awake until the late hours of the night.

it was annoying since it wasn't the first time this happened; it's the third night in a row that you needed to take a pill to sleep, which didn't really halped either.

such as matt, but he was more used to it, it was like his little nightly routine. he was scrolling endlessly on his phone, and when that became boring- he threw himself over the couch and watched some trashy action movies from the 80s.

it wasn’t hard to hear the fake gunshots and overly dramatic grunts coming from the TV. when you turned to the other side again, the flickering light seeped through the small crack in the door.

you slid out the sheets, walking out the door to see matt sitting there, casually man-spreading on the couch. "why are you up?" he asked while you walked closer to sit next to him. "couldn't sleep," you exhaled, leaning your head on his chest, your eyes relaxing a bit from his calm breathing.

you sure 'bout that? kid u're almost droolin' over me" matt observed, wrapping his hand around your shoulder as he brought you closer to him "I know" you whined "I'm so tired but I just can't sleep".

matt stayed quiet, continued looking around the house until his eyes locked on it, the little recipe book collecting dust in the corner of the kitchen. "you hungry?" he queried, you looked up at him, where did that come from? "hungry?" you repeated questionly. "it's a yes or no question".

that wasn't wired, but the way he said it- he didn't asked, he knew what he wanted. you shifted away from his chest to sit properly. "what were you thinking 'bout?".

you didn't know how that happened, how you ended up getting ingredients out the fridge on fucking 3am to make blueberry muffins, "" matt licked his lips while looking at the blend.

"y'know, you could help making instead staring at it," you said as you took the baking pan and other ingredients out the drawer, by the time you set then all up you still heard no answer, not hearing anything actually, matt was quiet, too quiet. "matt,...matt?....matt!?"

"yeah" he muttered quietly, his mind too focused on the way the blueberries sank into the dough, not hearing that this is the third time you called for his name

"are you eve- MATT!" You groned, taking a small amount of flour in your hand and throwing it in his face, giggling softly to yourself.

"UAH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, taking a step back as he tried to get rid of the white powder scattered all over his face.

(charli xcx sneezed on him type shit)

"Come on matt" you continued giggling. "it's not that bad." "are you fucking kidding me!? YOU GOT IT IN MY EYES!" he angered, blinking a little to see what's around him. He wanted to slid that off and laugh, but when you continued tittering and pointed out at him, he needed to give back.

He looked around, he saw the flour, but it was too boring to "revange" the same way, but then he saw the blueberries, those old, sweet, skin sticking blueberries.

Before you could even say something or hide he grabbed then in his hand and threw then all over you, the little fruits hitting your face and body, their purple-y juice splashing all over you amd made your skin be so...sticky.

You let out a gasp and looked up to meet his eyes "oh you are so dead" you smirked, amd within a second, both of you held random components and started to throw them on each other.

All of matt’s hair went shiny from oil and yours looked like it aged a few years from the flour. Since you also forgot to turn the mixer off, the batter became overloaded and chunks of dough flew out and got sticked on you two, and the walls, and the counters, and the drawers, and the floor, and everything.

Both of you quickly rushed to turn it off, your pasty skins touching which made matt let out a disgusted giggle, and when he turned the mixer off, you both just bursted out in laughter for all what just happened, standing there, gross then ever, as matt hugged your waist and you balanced yourself with a hand on his upper chest.

You took a few steps back to lean against the island counter, matt still hugging you as the laughs started to fade. It was fun, sure- but matt couldn't give up without saying the last word.

So after you thought this whole "fight" was over, you heard an egg crack, and before you coukd understand why matt smiled this wildly, you felt this disgusting, nauseating texture of the raw egg sliding down your head and back, which made you whine an "ewwwugh".

You threw your head back, trying to make it slide away faster, you didn't gave back, you knew you practically started all this so this is your payment, but whike you did so, matt just kept smiling. "who's laughing now, huh?" He teased.

Lowering your head, now level with his eyes as you sighed. "Matt, you need to learn when to shut up."

"Oh really? Look who's talking, " he remarked, moving his hands up from your waist to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with that knowing smirk.

You leaned closer too, so close that you could feel his warm breath, but not enough to close the gap between your faces. You knew this was another some kind of a game, of who is going to give in first, matt alwyes liked that shit, but you weren't to give in, not now.

Just like you knew about this game, matt knew you won't give in. So if you won't give in for a kiss, you would give in for something else.

Matt hauled down his head, letting his tongue lick the spurts of blueberry juice who sticked there from beforehand

"m-matt, what are you doing?" You probed.

this was from the kinds of things matt didn't like, or did he? He never really tried to do (so-called) wired things, but now when he did, it didn't look like he was going to stop any sooner.

He gently tilted your head, his hands holding you in a more firm grip to keep you in place. There was a moment of pause, like he wanted to sevor the intimate moment, and then, he pressed his lips harder at that spot, his teeth grazing it.

He continued to nip the poor, bitten spot. matt knew you so well, he knew how you acted even when his eyes were closed. He knew you wouldn't want to show you needs, show how much you wanted him.

You bit your lip to quiet the little mewls you wanted to let out so bad, but matt knew better, he moved one hand who held you in place and blindly searched for your lips, bringing his finger to part your lips just at the right time to hear that little whine rolling off your tongue. You tilted your head desperately to the side, exposing more of your neck for him.

"fuck I love blueberries" matt whispered to your ear, but it sounded like he more said to himself.

While you were "busy" tagging your hands in his hair and pull him closer, matts hands lowred to hold your hips, gripping them tightly. He cut the contect with your neck, moving to nip the other side of your neck as he lifted you up and set you on the surprisingly clean part of the counter, not daring to look up at your eyes.

Desperation was at the highest, hands gripping on his hair as your head was fully thrown back right now. Your legs wrapping around him- pulling him closer, needing him close as possible.

Once matt had you where he wanted, he slipped his hands under your top, his cold hands touching your now heated skin- making you hiss a little, but you couldn't give a fuck less. The top quickly found itself thrown on the floor.

Matt wasn't any less desperate- if not more. He couldn't let go of your touch, so he grabbed your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he clumsily unbuckled his belt with his other, eager to feel you.

Unbuttoning his jeans and taking them with his boxers down to his ankles. Matt kept kissing you, you parted your lips farther and drew his face nearer. your thumbs caressing his cheeks to feel the thick bristles, matt's tongue darted into your mouth as you opened your mouth further for him, his tongue immediately going to explore the inside of your mouth. He could feel his mind growing fuzzy with desire and need for you.

Now when kept his face in place and his hands were free he lifted your hip with one hand to take your pants and underwear off from one side and then from the other, throwing the clothes to wherever.

He brought one hand to stroke his aching, tip leaking cock. He wanted to tease you to make you say how much you were trobbing to feel him in you- but couldn't.

The sight of you leaning your forehead against his, dark, now doe eyes staring to his soul, was too much.

He gave no warnings- but singed when he gripped your hip tighter before you felt him inside of you, you letting out a mix of a gasp and a moan as you buried your head in his neck, your hand gripping on his shirt.

Matt's eyes widened as he first felt himself swollen deep in you, exhaling loudly as hus chest raised and falled from over pulse. It felt like something snapped inside of him and all the gentle, feather-light touches were gone.

He trusted into you, his dick being pressed from all sides just the right way. "you feel...fuck...so good" he panted, his hands moving to grip your ass, nails digging at it as his hips slapped against your own, your body bouncing as he picked up the pace.

matt smiled when he saw how quiet you were, gripping on his shoulders and biting your cheek to not let out any sound, honestly, it was amusing for him. "c'mon baby, let me hear you"

all you could let out was a little hum, you knew that your body was going betray you if you'll open your mouth. "let me hear you now or I'll stop." matt demanded, his pace slowing down each trust.

"mm...no!" you mewled "please matt, don't stop."

"why? you want this, huh? go on then baby, say how much you want it" he grunted, his slow trusts pacing up when he saw you freeing your head out his neck "please matt, please" you pined.

"yeah...yeah say m' name name like that" he teased, his hands once again sliding up to find your waist, clutching on it as he trusted into your gloppy walls, and fast, really fast, so much that you couldn't moan to the feeling of him touching a spot since he already touched another delicate one.

a following whimper rolled off your tongue, your legs around him encouraging him to get closer, you needed more. more touch, more of his dick, more.

as much as matt wanted to look up to see your desperate, eager eyes. he couldn't stop staring at your tits, how they bounced so hard theat they almost fell out your bra, like they called for his name.

his hands moved up from your waist to your torso as he lowred his head, shoving his face between them. you reached you a hand to take the bra off but matt pushed it away, he liked how they were put together, so close that matt could just feel his stubble scratching them.

"mm...fuck, so good." you moaned, his lips biting the area around your nipple, leaving a few marks in their awake.

you smiled, your fingers holding on his messed up hair as he worshipped your body, but the ego boost didn't last long when matt lifted you up and set you on your ass instead of the back of your thighs, the new angle letting him hit other cushioned spot "uh-uh fuck....oh my....shiiit" matt moaned.

"matt...f-fuck I'm so close" your eyes rolled back and mouth parted to get more air into your lungs. "me too, hold it." he urged, trusting faster if that was even possible.

"fuck please please please" you begged, even that you didn't knew why for. your moans becoming more frequently, and when matt looked down on the base of his cock he saw the knot of your stomach already started to form. "oww...god, look at that" he admired.

your nails digged to his back through his shirt, dragging them down in a hopeless try to let some of the pressure out. "matt please...aw my god!" his hips pressed against you a few more times before your body clinged to his body, your legs shaking as your release crushed out of you in tender waves.

"fuck" you mewled loudly, matt's climax not far behind. his hips shivred seconds later as he came into your flattering walls, groaning as your pussy milked him dry. your panted, your breathing coming in short pants as he held you close, letting the high wash away from him.

matt stayed still for a few moments before moving his hands to cup your face "you're good? didn't hurt or anything, right?" he asked, a little hint of worry in his eyes "no..that was...it was good." you breathed out.

"well lets get cleaned up...literally, your hair still has that egg smell on it" matt teased "well your hair is full of oil too" you teased back.

yall I wrote this when I was stoned lmao this is just too cute to keep it to myself, reblog if you liked it ig, love yall ass cheeks thx for reading♡

[lululocomo]

The past: Macaque's Reaction

(this is about my Forgotten Wukong au! feel free to look at the masterpost linked at the end if you wanna know more!)

_______________

Liu Er Mihou was the first to notice something happened. 

It’s been some years since his fight against Wukong, in which the Great Sage explained the best he could why he had to go through this pilgrimage and protect this monk. Mihou decided to give him one last chance and Wukong promised he will get home as soon as this Journey ended. Now Macaque is back on Flower Fruit Mountain hoping the King will keep his promise.

Macaque listens now and then in direction to the west, to know if the travel with the monk and the other pilgrims was almost done. The last time he listen what Wukong was up to, he was on his way to get his circlet removed by Guanyin after sealing the brotherhood in a scroll.

Finally! Wukong did kept his promise of getting back home after all of this was done! And about the brotherhood, well, Macaque wasn’t that sad about them. Sure they were friends, but not anymore, not after the fight against heaven and how they completely abandoned Wukong after it. Macaque still did try to find him and talked to him, even if the result was a smashed peach on the ground.

Mihou was still very conflicted about how to feel toward Wukong, they needed to have serious talk as soon as the King will be back on the mountain. But something wasn’t right, something was missing. Macaque couldn’t shake off this feeling of something missing, something big. Then he notice.

Wukong’s magic. He couldn’t feel it anymore.

Minutes ago he could feel it getting closer, feeling Wukong getting closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. But now, nothing. It vanished into thin air. And then he noticed the lack of sounds.

He could no longer hear Wukong's breath, or his heartbeat. Normally Macaque is able to hear it even if he is far away thanks to his six ears.

But now, there was only a deafening silence. He couldn’t understand, what just happened? 

Not wanting to alarm the other demon monkeys on FFM, he continues to listen, to find any hints, anything to ease his mind and to tell him that all of this is a cruel joke. 

His mind went blank. There was no way Wukong just disappeared like that. Yes, he still hasn't forgiven him for going with the pilgrims and how he abandoned him, but he never expected all of this.

_________

No more than an hour later, Nezha was at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain,asking to see Macaque or any monkey in charge of Wukong's kingdom.

Macaque was pulled back from his spiraling of thought when he noticed Nezha's presence.

Using his shadow to teleport to him, he told him he better have a good reason why he's there. 

Nezha told him about all the things the Jade Emperor said; how Wukong died from a powerful curse he got during his journey, that apparently one of the many demons he fought had a cursed weapon capable of slowly killing an immortal being . And now his staff became cursed and is protected by a powerful barrier.

“ …where is he?” Macaque ask. “I- I don’t know. They didn’t answer when I asked, only saying he got disposed of.” “What do you mean disposed of?! You’re telling me it’s only been an hour since he supposedly died and he’s already disposed of??!” Nezha sighed: “Look I know this sounds very bad, and I agree something is awry. That’s why I came here as soon as I could to tell you this. Apparently his body was emanating a cursed energy after dying so that’s why they acted quickly” “... this doesn’t make any sense.." macaque paused "and what do you mean by something is awry? I was sure you would agree to whatever Heaven decided to do”. “I am not completely blind to what they do. Not long before they announced this, I saw that a part of the celestial army left the palace in secret and they got back when the news was spread. Perhaps it is connected, perhaps it is not. But my intuition tells me something is just wrong.”

“...”

“I know we are not on good terms but I thought it would be correct to tell you all this. I need to go now , my condolence for your loss.”

Nezha left the mountain as quickly as he got there to go back to the celestial palace.

Macaque stayed in the same spot,paralysed, still processing all the informations. ________

The news spread like wildfire. And everyone was too scared to go near the mountain with the "cursed magic staff".

Time passed, and Mihou was still looking for Wukong whenever he could, while protecting and taking care of the kingdom left behind after the sudden departure of the King.

Au Masterpost

[cyberesc]

BEST ENEMY. (1/3)

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Villain(?)Reader

synopsis: He's the Number One Hero, you're his greatest enemy, and yet no matter how much blood stains your hands, Izuku can't bring himself to stop loving you.

˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: heavy angst, mentions of blood/violence, mentions of alcoholism, morally grey themes, self-loathing, "if things were different" vibes, unresolved tension

note: I was in the mood for some angst, i wrote this drabble listening to //Ma Meilleure Ennemie// and was inspired by Ekko and Jinxs' relationship

part 2 | part 3

A melody plays in the background as Izuku polishes the armor of his suit, careful with each groove and scratch. His hands are methodical, just like they were the night before when they had closed around your throat.

He’s spent years mastering his self-control, but every time he fights you, it unravels. You make him reckless. Sloppy.

The melody plays on repeat in the dim silence of his apartment, a relic of simpler times. Homecoming. Your hand in his, guiding him through a dance neither of you were particularly good at, but it didn’t matter. You laughed at his awkward footwork, and he swore he’d never felt so warm.

He should stop listening to the song, stop scrubbing away phantom blood that will never truly wash off, stop thinking about the way you smiled at him as he nearly killed you.

You always did have a way of twisting a knife in his heart and making it feel like a lover’s embrace.

Izuku has been in love with you for as long as he’s known what love is.

It was an innocent thing, once. Snot-nosed kids whispering dreams in the dark, two outcasts clinging to each other like lifelines. He wanted to be a hero. You never did.

But you humored him.

You encouraged his dreams, smiled and cheered for him when no one else would, cleaned his wounds when Bakugo shoved him into the dirt. He thought, maybe, if he became strong enough, if he became the kind of hero you could believe in, you wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

He was wrong.

He knows the way your mind works, the cynicism carved into your bones long before you had the words to explain it. Even as a child, you saw the cracks in the system, the hypocrisy in the heroes you were supposed to admire. He wonders if you ever truly believed in him, or if you just didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

He should hate you.

He wants to hate you.

But when you’re standing across from him, bloodied and grinning, taunting him, all he sees is the person who held him together when he was falling apart.

And that’s why it has to be him.

You both know it.

If you ever go down, it’ll be by his hands.

And if anyone is going to break him beyond repair, it’ll be by yours.

You tilt your head, watching him. He feels stripped bare under your gaze, as if you can see the cracks forming in his resolve.

“You tried to kill me.” Your grin widens, something cruel curling at the edges. “How does it feel?”

His stomach churns. You talk about your near death as if it was a good thing, like his fingers hadn’t trembled around your throat, like you hadn’t looked up at him with relief as he nearly ended you.

He turns on his heel.

“Running away so soon?” you call after him, voice laced with disappointment.

Izuku doesn’t answer. If he stays, he’ll do something reckless again. And he’s already drowning in enough guilt to kill him.

He drowns it the only way he knows how.

The burn of alcohol is nothing compared to the memory of you.

Izuku doesn’t drink often, not really. He knows it’s a bad habit, knows he’s letting you win every time he lets himself spiral. But after that night, after nearly killing you...

He needed something to shut you out.

His fingers tighten around his glass, knuckles white. He wonders, bitterly, if you’d laugh at him for this. If you’d be proud of yourself for breaking the Number One Hero down to this.

Somewhere between his third and fourth drink, he stops wondering.

The next morning, he wakes up with a stranger in his bed, someone whose eyes are the wrong color and hair the wrong shade. He feels bad waking them up but not bad enough to let them stay.

You meet again in the ruins of a battlefield, smoke curling in the air, blood staining the ground.

Izuku is breathing hard, hands shaking from exhaustion. You’re grinning like you haven’t just barely escaped death.

He should say something. Should demand answers, should beg you to stop this.

“I hate you,” he breathes instead.

You laugh, head tilting as if he just said something endearing. “I know."

His jaw clenches. “I wish I never met you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, cleaning your knifes on the ledge of the building.

Izuku stares at you with a raw ache in his chest. He should finish this. Right here, right now.

He stares at you for a few moments, watching your fingers clean the metal of your blade. A chill runs down his spine at the familiar routine.

He shouldn’t be happy that you’d kept an eye on him, that you couldn’t stay away even if you tried.

After a long pause of silence, you look up at him with furrowed brows at his inaction, mouth in a firm line. You were giving him a chance. He missed it, again.

You look down at the road below you, not bothering to spare him a glance as you jumped from the ledge.

“See you soon, hero.”

And then you’re gone, disappearing into the foggy night.

Izuku is left standing there, the weight of his own heart suffocating him.

He wants to hate you.

But he never will.

© property of cyberesc 2025. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[blondemrk]

hi ill become an anon 4 u! would you write chenle x reader who's really obvious w their crush? like they make him lil things all the time and gets so blushy around him so lele decides to take matters into his own hands :3 (you can do wtvr you want with the confrontation >_o) okii ty!!

♡ marks wife

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

p chenle x fem!reader g fluff

hi anon!! tysm for req. what do you want ur emoji to be :3

chenle wasn’t stupid.

if anything, he prided himself on being sharp—on reading people well, on picking up things others missed.

so when y/n started acting weird around him—stammering when he got too close, avoiding eye contact, blushing like crazy—he noticed.

and the gifts? yeah, those were hard to miss.

it started small. a neatly wrapped pack of his favorite candy left on his desk one morning. then a custom keychain with his initials, which she shoved into his hands so fast she nearly tripped over her words. then a handwritten note before his basketball game, wishing him luck with a tiny doodle of a dolphin in the corner.

chenle wasn’t dense.

and if y/n thought she was being subtle, she was dead wrong.

which is why, after weeks of watching her fluster herself into oblivion, he decided to do something about it.

the opportunity presented itself after school, when he caught y/n stuffing yet another carefully wrapped gift into his locker.

“you know, most people just say hi when they like someone.”

y/n jumped.

she spun around so fast she nearly knocked herself into the locker, her face instantly going up in flames. “chenle?! what are you—”

chenle grinned, leaning casually against the row of lockers. “what am i doing?” he tilted his head. “the real question is, what are you doing?”

y/n looked horrified.

“i wasn’t doing anything!” she blurted, immediately stepping in front of his locker like she could physically block the evidence.

chenle snorted. “yeah? then move.”

her eyes went wide. “why?”

“because i want to see what you definitely weren’t putting in my locker.”

y/n clamped her hands over her face, groaning. “oh my god.”

chenle just laughed, stepping closer. he didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, the way she gripped the sleeves of her sweater like it might help her survive this.

she was so obvious. and honestly? it was cute.

“i think i get it now,” he mused, tapping a finger against his chin. “you like me, don’t you?”

y/n’s whole body twitched.

“you dont know what you are talking about”

chenle leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to make her squirm. “is that a no?”

she opened her mouth—probably to deny it—but her words got stuck somewhere between her brain and her throat.

chenle grinned. “thought so.”

y/n made a noise that sounded somewhere between a whimper and a cry for help.

“hey,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly. “relax. you don’t have to freak out.”

“this is so embarrassing ,” y/n muttered into her hands.

chenle chuckled, then—before she could spiral any further—reached for her wrist, gently pulling her hands away from her face.

“listen,” he said, softer now, meeting her wide, embarrassed eyes. “if you’re gonna go through all this trouble just to get my attention…”

y/n swallowed hard. “what?”

chenle grinned. “you could’ve just asked me out.”

“what?"

“i’m serious,” he continued, watching her carefully. “you like me, right?”

y/n stared at him, her lips parting slightly.

it took a second, but she nodded.

chenle smirked. “ i like you too.”

for a solid five seconds, y/n didn’t move. didn’t breathe.

chenle laughed, ruffling her hair before turning on his heel. “c’mon, let’s get something to eat. i’ll consider it our first date.”

and with that, he walked off—leaving y/n standing there, still frozen, still reeling, still trying to comprehend what just happened.

@chenlezip @injvns @polarisjisung @narcisstict @mrkified

[ohmanareyoucereal9]

Chris and Matt’s favourite kind of foreplay

chratt blurb whoop whoop

warnings: smut, no actual sex mentioned, just foreplay :p

M.S - Fingering, you see all those beckoning movements he does with his fingers in car videos? That’s muscle memory. He loves sinking his long digits into your soaked folds. The feeling of your sloppy pussy pulsing against his fingers can’t help but make his dick twitch immensely. He curls them all the way up into your g-spot, making you squirm. He absolutely is enamoured by how turned on you get when he prods at that one sweet spot. Your juices run down to his knuckles every time he pushes them in as deep as he can go. He sometimes even puts the soft pad of his thumb right on your clit, rubbing in tight circles over your swollen nub. The strange sensation of cold metal from his rings makes you jolt. Sometimes it gets so messy, he has no choice but to take them off. Matt drilling into your hole with his pretty fingers makes you spiral, it sends you into a trance– another worldly-like experience that regular masturbation on your own could never replicate. He knows exactly how to make you feel good, he knows your insides like the palm of his hand.

"Oh, Matt.."

"Fuckkk, you're so tight sweetheart.."

"Right there, keep going just like that."

"You squeeze around my fingers s'good."

"You're so sensitive for me baby."

"I'm so close.."

C.S - Cunnilingus, he prioritised your pleasure over anything else during sex. Turning you on turned him on. He peppers sweet kisses on your thighs as a way of teasing you, it always makes you more needy. What gets you riled up the most is when he gazes down at your swollen clit, breathing on it lightly. The air makes you tingle, before he goes back to work on your thighs. You whine in impatience when he does this. Once he’s finally done teasing, he starts to kitten lick your slit lazily while his hands grip feverishly at your thighs, his veins in them so prominent they look like they’re going to pop. He likes to roll his hips against your sheets from the immense euphoria he gets from eating you out, he can’t help it. The tension unwinding for him makes him moan into your folds, the vibrations make you shiver and your back arches away from your mattress. You like to sweep your fingers into his brunette curls and grasp at them, guiding him to your most sensitive spots. 

"Chris, just eat me out already.."

"Shh, you're so needy."

"Your pussy is so pretty."

"Chris.."

"I'm gonna cum..!"

"Finish on my tongue for me baby."

divider creds: @/adornedwithlight

comment if u wanna be on my taglist !

a/n: hi cutiesss ik it’s been a while since i wrote smth and posted it on here. might not be a good time to bring up i can’t think of a good enough concept for pt 2 of across the universe. on the bright side, im cooking up a storm for the carpenter!matt au. just give me 4 business days and motivation and ill get there (joking). but yeah ill figure something out one way or another. i was thinking about discontinuing across the universe bc i felt like i rushed into it way too quickly, ill probably be able to revive it and make it better though (i pray) anywayssss hope u enjoyed!!!

[crtakespropogandist]

It's buck wild to me that it's so popular to imagine a Bren-who-didn't-break in a romance with Essek, or in a version of the Blumentrio where Astrid is the worst influence.

When Liam said Shadowgast Killing Eve AU, he wasn't talking about Villanelle and Eve parallels, and he definitely wasn't talking about Darth Bren. When Liam explained Caleb's instinct to manipulate Essek, people somehow took said explanation to mean that Bren was specialized in honeypotting/seduction, which, no. Bren the Volstrucker would be way more inclined towards a different kind of heat.

In the "Waldhexe" narrative, which Liam confirmed was analogous to Trent and the Blumentrio, Astrid lost one eye, whereas Eadwulf lost "much of" his brain, and Bren lost his whole heart. Astrid shared a final meal with her parents, whereas Eadwulf gave his a confrontation, and Bren killed his parents without entering the house, no thought spared for the family cat. Astrid defied Trent during the final battle, whereas Eadwulf had to be neutralized, and Bren would have killed Trent in his sleep for not abdicating to him soon enough. Every bit of content screams that Astrid is the best influence on Volstrucker Blumentrio, ambition and all. Without Caleb's new perspective, Astrid's view of the world is the most nuanced, and she is the most open to change.

I know it's not comfortable to imagine one moment capable of consigning Caleb's character to heartlessness, especially when that moment was sprung on him as an abused child. Especially when Astrid and Eadwulf's experience of that moment didn't define their respective capacities for redemption. Especially when Essek, having committed worse sins under less extenuating circumstances, is easily saved.

But the reality of a disordered mind is far from comfortable, and Caleb's struggle, as per Liam's comments, is one I know well. Caleb's OCD is much milder than mine given how he's now plenty functional and happy ohne Drogen (idk German), but one of the hallmarks of the diagnosis places Caleb "Magical Thinking" Widogast amongst the multiple CR PCs who are also puns*.

"I was so sure, and then I wasn't." OCD made it impossible for Bren to tolerate that whisper of doubt the way Astrid and Eadwulf could. The implications were universal to Bren, all encompassing. He had to embrace that doubt as valid, or reject it as impossible. His mind failed to do either right then and there, and it broke him. When he was restored, that whisper of doubt was confirmed, and an OCD spiral of rumination entrenched in soon-to-be-Caleb the conviction that he is Bad and he deserves Bad. Nothing he does can ever reflect well on his true self, but cognitive dissonance sure rears its head when he joins the Nein, because Caleb is very smart despite OCD not caring about that.

OCD, like the Sith, only deals in absolutes. Bren the Volstrucker would not be among the jaded-but-resigned, morally grey operatives Astrid and Eadwulf became. Bren, having rejected that whisper of doubt, would rationalize away anything incongruent with the conviction that he is Good and he deserves Good. Nothing he does can ever reflect poorly on his true self, and cognitive dissonance would be kept at bay by well-articulated justifications that seamlessly build off of Trent's core teachings, because Bren is still very smart. Essek isn't still that hot, though. Cricks are enemies, and enemies are disgusting. The OCD, however mild, is stronger than the peen.

*Fjord "Texblade" Stone, Ashton "Punk Rock" Greymoore, Fresh "One" Cut "Eyed" Grass "Monster", Imogen "Imagine Tumult" Temult