#but based on those few songs i know they ARE good and i do like them
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lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar · 11 months ago
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i feel like you would be a big the guess who fan
I
WAS JUST
WATCHING/LISTENING
TO
ONE
OF
THEIR
SONGS
YESTERDAY
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munson-blurbs · 3 months ago
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Summary: Your rockstar boyfriend comes home early and finds you very needy. But he already knows that, doesn't he?
WC: 1.9k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), pure breeding kink, unprotected p in v, masturbation (m & f), mention of ovulation and periods, voyeurism if you squint, rockstar!Eddie Munson, established relationship
A/N: a collaboration with the love of my life @corroded-hellfire, based on the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter.
--
Eddie Munson may have failed a few classes—there was a reason he had three senior years—but sex ed wasn’t one of them. He learned how to use a condom, that girls could get pregnant their first time, and the difference between a pad and a tampon (living with his Uncle Wayne kept that conversation at bay.)
But the lesson Eddie recalls now is that ovulation occurs about seven days after your last period. Which, according to the pocket calendar he keeps stashed away during touring, is today. 
It isn’t like he asks about your cycle, but when he calls from the road, you’ll mention when you have cramps or you’ve just taken a Midol. At first, he tracked your periods so he could make sure the house had a plethora of chocolate during that awful week, but then he began noticing…other patterns. 
Two months ago, you’d initiated phone sex, whining about how badly you needed him inside you, needed his cum, needed his cum inside you. Last month, you’d cheekily informed him that you’d snapped some Polaroids earlier that day and had express-mailed them to his hotel room—photos that were for his eyes only. Both of those instances occurred two weeks after your period ended. 
This month, Eddie refused to be apart from you when your desire took over. 
That’s how he finds himself ditching the End of Tour party, coming home a day early to surprise you. It’s been months without you, months stuck in close proximity with Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. If Eddie doesn’t get his hands on you soon, he might implode. 
“Babe?”
No answer. 
Eddie frowns, taking the winding stairs two at a time. The light in your bedroom is on, the door slightly ajar. A soft humming comes from inside, the noise interrupted every so often with your unrestrained moans. 
He can’t help but listen for a moment. 
“Eddie…f-fuck…right there…”
If he hadn’t been away for so long, he might have let you enjoy your solo time. Maybe he’d secretly rub one out to your sweet sounds. A high keening sound robs Eddie of his thoughts as he slips his own hand into his pants. 
His mind is blank, no memory of the thoughts that were just floating through his consciousness. Now, there’s only the sound of your breathy moans and the way his fingers wrap around the base of his cock. 
“Eddie,” you whine pathetically, “need you to fill me up, baby. Please, please, please.”
As if his body is running on autopilot in response to what you just said, Eddie removes his hand from his pants and pushes the bedroom door fully open. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed in pleasure so you don’t see your boyfriend as he stalks closer to the bed.
“Need your cum, Eddie,” you whimper, body trembling with want. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eddie coos softly, loud enough so you know he’s there, but not enough to scare you or ruin the mood. “I’ll give you everything you want.”
Your eyes fly open at the sound of that sultry voice. The mood in the room begs for you to keep going, to keep working your fingers in and out of your needy hole as Eddie rips his shirt off over his head. But your curiosity is too strong to keep at bay, even with the neediness surging through you.
“E-Eddie?” you ask through labored breath. “What’re you doing home?”
“Skipped out early so I could be with my girl.”
Eddie undoes the buckle on his belt, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. “And it’s a good thing I did. I can’t have my pretty princess all needy for me like this. Let me help you, baby.” Eddie gets the handcuffs off his belt and hangs them on his index finger as he approaches the door of the bed. A dark eyebrow quirks up as he gives you a smirk. “Now that I’m home with these, sweetheart, you don’t need to use those pink fuzzy ones you keep in the drawer.”
“Please,” you whimper.
That one little word is all Eddie needs to hear before he kicks his jeans off and quickly shuffles out of his boxers. He kicks them somewhere to be found at a later time and kneels on the foot of the bed. 
Your dark, lust filled eyes follow his every movement. 
“Eds, can you—”
Eddie grins, already pressing kisses along your inner thighs to your core. “Baby, you don’t gotta tell me what to do. I know this body better than I know my own.”
With that, his tongue finds your clit, licking and sucking with excruciating precision. His ringed fingers wrap around your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders and tugging you close. 
He breathes in, inhaling your scent like it’s a god-sent nectar. 
“Missed my pretty girl and her pretty pussy,” he mumbles into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
Your leg twitches as he laps at you, a mixture of his saliva and your arousal pooling beneath you. The noises you’re making are involuntary and straight up obscene. 
“Eddie…Eddie…oh my god, Eddie!” Throwing your head back, you feel your body tense in anticipation of that delicious release. Your orgasm is a tidal wave, crashing over you in a way you hadn’t experienced since Eddie had left for the tour. 
Eddie sits back now, rocking on his heels. “Still got it, huh?” His grin is proud and slick with your sheen. 
“Definitely.”
“Good.” He presses his palms to his thighs and stands up, giving you a better view of his own desire. 
Pre-cum leaks from his tip, his cock rock-hard just from eating you out. You have a strong suspicion that if you’d taken any longer to finish, he would’ve busted before you. 
You want to take him in your mouth, to glide your tongue over the prominent vein and knead his balls until you’re swallowing his load. 
Eddie, however, can only focus on one thing. 
“Heard my pretty girl wants me to fill her up,” he coos. “Is that true? Do you want me to fill you up until my cum drips out of you?”
To his surprise, you shake your head no. 
“Don’t want it to drip out of me. I want to keep all of it inside.”
The groan that emanates from Eddie’s throat fuels a fire in your belly. His cock twitches, the head tapping against his navel. 
“Sounds like you want me to claim you. Permanently.” Not just the hickeys that fade within a few days. No, you want him to—
Without hesitating, Eddie climbs onto the bed and positions himself on top of you. 
“Allow me the honors, sweetheart.” Eddie drags the tip of his cock through your wet center and pushes in with a groan. “Fuck, thassit. Feels even better than I remember.”
You gripped his biceps, relishing in the gentle stretch of him within you. Every tour felt like an eternity, but that first time together each time he came home was worth the wait. 
“Now,” Eddie growled into your ear as he found his pace, “tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me.”
You scrounge up a reply with the sliver of your mental capacity that isn’t focused on him. “Your baby.”
Eddie smiles, kissing down your jawline. “You need my baby, huh? Need me to put a baby in this cute belly of yours?”
“Mhm. Need that s-so bad, Eddie. Please.” The words tumble from your lips in utter desperation. All you can think about is having his baby, his hands caressing your bump, knowing that he’s the reason you’re pregnant. 
“Goddamn,” Eddie hisses. He buries his head in your neck. “Beg for my baby some more.”
You arch your back, letting him wrap his arm around your waist. “Please give me your baby. Pleasepleaseplease—”
His fingers grip you harder, his movements becoming more erratic with each thrust. You can feel his fingernails digging crescents into your skin. 
“There we go, sweet girl. Fuck, ‘m close…”
You nod, too enraptured in him to even utter the words ‘me, too.’ All you can manage are a few strangled moans as your orgasm washes over you. Your body is light with pleasure, drifting away on a cloud of contentment. 
“Eddie.” The sound of his name on your lips tips him over the edge. It’s just the way you say it, all breathy and soft, that drives him wild. 
With a final groan, Eddie spills into you. “Oh, sh-shit…that’s it. Take it. Take my cum, baby.” There was a primal edge to every word. 
Both spent from all your exertion, Eddie flops down next to you and the only sounds are two ragged breaths as you both attempt to control your breathing. 
Once your bodies have calmed down a bit, Eddie turns on his side and splays one large hand across your lower abdomen. His warm palm is a comforting weight, one that has your eyes slipping closed and a smile coming to your face. 
“You’re home early,” you finally say.
Eddie chuckles and leans in to press a lingering kiss to your shoulder.
“Missed you. Didn’t wanna go to some dumb party if you weren’t going to be there.” He presses another kiss a little higher on your shoulder. “Especially not when you’re ovulating.”
Your heavy eyes open and you let your head fall to the side, coming face to face with your boyfriend.
“How’d you know I was ovulating?”
“I remember when you got your period,” he says. “Just some simple math. I may not have been able to pass geometry, but this kind of math I can do.”
A soft chuckle emanates from your chest and you fully turn on your side to face him. Eddie wastes no time pulling you flush up against his chest, his strong arms winding around you.
“Came here with a mission to knock me up, huh?” you tease, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. 
“Seemed like an easy decision.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You want to be carrying my baby. I want to get you pregnant. Little Munson Junior wants to be born. Everyone wins.”
You laugh as you bury your face against his shoulder. 
“Would love to have a little you,” you say. 
“Nah, I hope they look like you,” Eddie says. “One of you is already unbearably cute, I can’t wait to have two.”
“Can’t wait to snuggle them,” you say, a lazy smile spreading on your face at the thought. “You, me, and a little baby.”
“Our little baby,” Eddie adds.
“Hopefully this one took,” you say.
“Either way I’m prepared. If you’re not, I’m more than willing to fuck you every waking moment until it sticks. If you are…well, I may have picked up a few pregnancy tests on the way home,” Eddie admits.
“You didn’t.” You look up at your boyfriend, a gleeful chuckle following your words.
“Hell yeah, I did. Corroded Coffin’s latest album and tour are over and done with. It’s time you and I had our own little collaboration.”
“I like the sound of that,” you hum. “We make pretty sweet music together.”
“Oh, we absolutely do.” 
Eddie waggles his eyebrows roguishly before resting his forehead against yours. “But tonight,” he murmurs mischievously, “I’m hoping to hear some screamo.” 
--
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chosows · 6 months ago
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"AM I DOING GOOD?"
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YOUR OBSESSED LOSER BOYFRIEND
Choso x Fem Reader
Summary: Choso just can’t seem to get enough of you. To him, you’re the only woman worthy of his time—the only woman he’ll ever look at so intimately. When you’re at work, he struggles to cope with your lack of company, becoming desperate for your attention when you aren’t around. Every day he awaits your return impatiently—craving your familiar touch.
Word count: 2.5k
Contains: Submissive Choso, established relationship, masturbation, interrupted masturbation, begging, teasing, no protection, penetrative, cowgirl, missionary, cumshots, creampie
Audio: i based this on this audio from a request. full credits to the VA for inspo
Note: need to write more one shots like this ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
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Left alone in the bedroom, Choso grumbles. The past few hours have been spent aimlessly flipping through TV stations; there is nothing to satiate his boredom. He wants one thing and one thing only—you. He flooded your phone with messages, receiving no response since you’re likely making your way home from work. Time couldn’t tick by any slower.
Rolling onto his side, the open drawer full of your panties catches his attention. Choso pierces his lips together, his mind wandering to picture you in your lingerie—thinking about how sexy you look when you tease him, sending him all those naughty pictures when he’s the one at work. The ones he saves to his gallery in a special folder just for you; two albums have your name, one inaccessible without a passcode.
Grabbing a pair, he balls them up into his hand and throws himself back on the mattress, admiring them in the air. A black lace set, simple but equally as seductive. He lowers them to his face, cursing himself for his perverted ways as he sniffs, only to be disappointed by the smell of laundry detergent. No one could miss pussy more than he does; his dick throbs at the thought of your taste when you guide his head, holding him down while he eats you out.
Unable to contain himself, he fumbles with his zipper and pulls his dick from his underpants, his tip sensitive to the touch. Using your panties for added stimulation, he begins stroking himself, wishing it were you touching him. Sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you—it’s beginning to interfere with his life; deep down, he knows he’d live no other way. You’re the only thought in his head; he’d do anything for you—the possibilities are endless.
Since you’re not home, he’s free to be as loud as he wants. His moans leave his mouth as his head lolled back, letting himself get lost in the endless fantasies his mind curated of you. You enter through the door and take your shoes off, humming the tune to the song playing through your headphones while you walk through to the living room. When you call Choso’s name, he doesn’t reply and your brows pinch together.
“Baby? Are you home?” You call out again, hearing clattering coming from the bedroom.
“M’ here. Wait—” The floorboards creak as you approach the bedroom and he panics, covering himself carelessly as the door swings open.
“I missed you so much!” You beam at him and walk over, holding his head in your hands while cuddling him to your chest.
“Missed you too.” He mumbles, his dick twitching from the material of the blanket rubbing him the wrong way.
“Are you okay? You look pale.” You pull your lips to one side and put your hand on his forehead, slicking his hair back, “You don’t have a fever.”
“I’m okay, just sleepy.” He smiles, his eyes innocent despite the deceit—he’s not tired at all.
“You’re always sleepy.” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. Your gaze lowers, noticing him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.
“Not always.”
“Your cheeks are rosy.” Your thumb strokes over his smooth skin, unaware of the situation under the blanket that he is desperately attempting to conceal.
“You’re so beautiful.” He chokes on his words when you straddle him, your ass directly on top of his hardly-covered dick.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It’s—” He grits his teeth, turning his head to the side, “—Nothing. I told you I’m fine.”
“What’s this?” Underneath the blanket covering him is a slip of fabric. Before he could stop you, you reel it out and reveal your panties.
“I swear I can explain, please.” He whines, grabbing your hand while you stare down at him. You don’t speak, giving him the approval to justify his actions.
“I just wanted to feel you. I missed you so much; I need you so fucking bad.” His eyes were wide, a soft glimmer possessing them while his hands rubbed up and down your hips.
“How long have you been jerking off in my panties?”
“A few weeks—”
You flash a stern glare at him and he huffs, squeezing your fingers while they intertwine with his.
“I know, I’m sorry. Please, I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“You’re so needy, you know?” Your voice lowers, bundling his shirt as you draw him closer to you. He couldn’t handle being touch-starved for much longer and cracked, connecting his lips with yours.
While you intended to go for a controlled approach, Choso was sloppy, dragging you down with him while his lips assaulted yours. All his pent-up sexual frustration is revealing itself, his tongue meeting with yours in an instant. Despite not being touched, this was all he needed to orgasm, whimpering pathetically into your mouth as he cums all over himself. You pull back and remove the blanket, seeing the trail shot up his lower abdomen and shirt.
“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” He murmurs, grabbing onto your face with both hands, “I’ve been a good boy for you.”
“You’ve been perfect.” Your lips twist up, “Only you could cum all over yourself like this. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”
“All yours. Only yours.” He hastily replies, grinning right back at you.
“I think it’s only right that a good boyfriend deserves a treat, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“You’ve made such a mess.” You toss the now dirty blanket onto the floor, helping him out of his shirt and boxers.
“I’ll clean it all up later, I promise.”
“Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, only to feel his grip on your forearm tighten.
“Where are you going?” He whines, tugging you back as you stumble forward.
“I’m going to get changed.”
“No.” He lets his head roll back, his cheeks lit with a red flush, highlighting his dire need for your attention, “I need you now.”
“No?” You cock your head slightly askew, his demanding words catching you off guard.
“You haven’t touched me in ages.”
“You’re going to have to wait, Choso. I won’t be long.”
“Please don’t leave the room; you can do it here. I want to see your pretty body.”
“Let’s make a deal, okay?” You brush your hair away from your face and he nods, “I want you to get yourself off until I’m ready and I’ll stay in the room. Can you do that for me?”
“Am I allowed to cum?”
“What fun would it be if you cum again before I get my hands on you?”
“Okay, I won’t. Don’t make me wait forever.” Choso lets go of you, watching you waltz over to the laundry basket.
His eyes linger on your figure as you strip out of your clothes, using his previous spill of cum as lubricant. It was hard to remain silent, his moans muffled due to him forcing his mouth shut. There is no shame left in him as his body twitches, the sight of you from behind leaving him tearing at the skin on his lips. He was overstimulated, hornier than he was previously—but he never gave up. His body knew you were what he craved—likely the only thing providing him the stamina to keep going.
You grin while your back is facing him, hearing the soft noises he makes while he strokes himself to the thoughts playing in his mind. You glance back, noticing him divert his eyes, his hand trembling due to the repeated motions. Though cruel, you want to see how long you can make him wait. Choso always cums quickly, but he’s the type of man that wants to cum multiple times until he gets everything out of his system—until he knows that he has pleased you. If necessary, he’d continue until his eyes are forced shut.
His heavy breathing increases, his big amber eyes begging you to turn around and place your hands all over him. Under the muffled sounds of his whimpers, he calls for you, his voice too weak for you to register from the distance you’re at. He knows you’re doing this to him on purpose, turning him on as his pitch rises an octave, his whines now desperate cries for attention. You unclasp your bra, slinging it aside, then slowly step out of your panties. His face lights up, a gleaming smile displayed as his hands proceed to tremble.
“Are you ready?” He gasps in between his words, eagerly awaiting you to spin around and join him on the mattress.
“Not yet.”
“You said— We had a deal.” He almost sounds hurt, as if he took the betrayal to heart, “I’m going to cum— You know I can’t last—”
“Relax, Choso. I’m teasing.” You chuckle, spinning around and closing the distance, “You can stop now. You did so well.”
“Did I?” His sticky hand leeches onto yours, “I thought you’d be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because I keep sending you inappropriate messages while you’re at work and I steal your panties.” He utters. He feels ashamed at how attached he is to you—many of your friends have commented on his clingy behaviour.
“I like your little messages; I think they’re cute—the pictures too.”
“Yeah? You like them?”
“I love them; you look so pretty in the videos. Got the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, haven’t you?”
“I’ll send you more. You make me this way—I’m so horny. I get so excited for you to come home every day.”
“I can see that.” Your eyes drift down to his dick, wrapping your hand around it, grazing against the veins that decorate it. “All of this because of me, I’m flattered.”
“All for you. I love you so much.” Choso tugs you forward, making sure he’s able to hold you in the kiss so you can’t break free this time.
His lips were soft; you could feel his smirk pressed against you while you shuffled closer. He adored kissing you; exploring every inch of you is a blessing to him. He pulls back and shifts your hips, lining his tip up with your entrance. The moment he’s been waiting for all day is finally in his hands, the greatest privilege he has been gifted in life.
“I can’t wait to feel you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He mutters, dotting kisses down your arm while you lower yourself onto him, “So good. I’ll make you cum, I swear.”
“Quiet down, Choso.” You snicker, his pupils blown out as he bottoms out inside of you.
“Oh fuck, ‘so tight,” Since he can’t tone it down, you put your hand over his mouth. You silence his moans, barely doing enough to dull the volume.
Your day at work drained you; you don’t have enough energy to remain on top for long, growing exhausted only after the first few minutes have passed. Choso recognises your lack of energy and rolls over, allowing you to lie down. When you give him this opportunity, he makes sure he doesn’t disappoint you. He inches back into you, setting the pace to his liking, carefully analysing your facial expressions.
“Please talk to me.” He grunts, reaching forward to stroke your face.
“You’re doing so well—just like that.” Your eyes flutter shut as his tip massages a point deep within you, stimulating your G-spot. From the look on his face, it’s as though he is awestruck by you; none of this is new to him, he just can’t get over how gorgeous you are.
“Are you close?” He’s aware that it’s early on, but this has been prolonged for him—he’s already at his point of release.
“Not yet.”
“Fuck— I don’t know how much longer I can last.”
“You can do it, Choso. Do it for me.”
“I’m trying. M’ trying, but it’s so hard—”
“Keep yourself there.” You readjust your position, raising your hips slightly while he secures you in place.
“Here? Should I press down?” He rubs his hand on your lower abdomen, applying pressure to aid your pleasure, “Look at you— You’re so pretty. You’re going to be mine forever, aren’t you?”
“Forever.” You mumble your words, repeating them as the satisfaction begins to take over your rational thinking.
“Can you feel this?” He says in a proud tone while his fingers circle around your clit, building your climax rapidly, “Am I doing it right?”
“Mhm’, that’s it.” Your breath hitches, muscles tightening due to the stimulation, “That’s it, Choso.”
“I’m holding out for you,” The atmosphere was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping, “Please don’t be mad if I cum.”
“Just a little more.”
“I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” His voice was raspy, barely able to get his words out. “I love how you take care of me. I love how good our sex is—”
“And— Those other people,” He pants, glaring directly into your eyes, “Who said I wasn’t enough for you were wrong, weren't they? I’m so good for you.”
“You’re more than enough for me.”
“Not every man has to pretend to be emotionless. They’re so jealous because I’m the one you wanted.” He plants his lips on your neck, leaving a soft trail of pecks leading down to your chest, “I’m going to give you everything, going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
Choso comes undone inside of you, his whimpers flowing while his cum spurts out, filling you up just as he had anticipated. He continues to thrust, making sure you have the opportunity to finish despite him being close to passing out from the overstimulation. His hands are groping your breasts, sliding all over your body, doing anything he can to help you.
“Please cum, please,” He whispers his plea, his breath fanning onto your neck, “I want you to cum for me.”
“Yes— Oh shit,” He laughs in between gasps, not expecting his words to have an effect, “You’re so tight around me.”
Locking with his innocent eyes, you break, losing your composure as your orgasm reigns over your body. Choso is struggling to speak, his words coming out in hiccups while he continues—unable to stop himself. He pulls out of you and shoots cum all over your stomach, letting his drained body fall beside yours. Tonight, he made a mess much bigger than he ever had before, his head spinning while his body regains energy.
“I really needed this.” Choso turns, noticing the sweet expression on your face as you gaze at him.
“I love you too; I forgot to say it back.” You beam over at him while your chest heaves, your body sticky with both sweat and cum, a combination that becomes irritating as time passes.
“Give me a minute and I’ll clean everything up like I promised.” He pecks your cheek, pleased with himself for the state you’re in. Usually, you prefer to be the one in charge of aftercare—you don’t have the heart to stop him as he seems so ecstatic with his performance. “Do you want a fresh set of lingerie or my boxers and a shirt?”
“Boxers and a shirt, please.”
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intheholler · 8 months ago
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the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!
my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.
nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned
so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).
they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!
as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.
the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.
they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.
naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.
so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.
305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.
while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.
perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).
but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.
(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)
so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.
it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.
but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.
a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.
in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.
men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.
her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.
as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.
meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.
but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting
i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.
(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)
in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.
anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.
it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.
but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."
in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.
how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?
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letsbangts · 27 days ago
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tell me what to do || jjk
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⤷ summary: when the familiar becomes unfamiliar what do you do
⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ word count: 3.4k
⟶ genre: angst, established relationship au, breakup au
⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, big argument, talking about breaking up, the blame game, basically misunderstanding due to miscommunication
⟶ warnings: explicit language
↬ a/n: once again, this a very old piece I polished up, okay so this was my second piece of work so read with caution. as you can guess it is based on 'tell me what to do by shinee' because I was absolutely obsessed with the song so I used the lyrics as a guideline for writing, I incorporated the lyrics into the story. let me know what you think i really appreciate feedback :) & recommend a song if you’d like and i’ll write a scenario with it like i did with this song xx angel ♡
masterlist
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these days, i don’t know, i don’t know you. you look like you gave up on a lot of things but i hear your silent scream
I sit at the dining table drinking tea in my home - our home but lately nothing seems like ours anymore. It feels like there never was an ours, never an us. I don’t even need to sense it, I can see it. It’s as though I don’t know him anymore. He looks like he gave up on a lot of things, and like he gave up on us. I can almost hear him silently screaming for an end, our end.
lovers without extreme development is this the losing hand that time has placed? we haven’t ended it but it’s already over
He walks through the doorframe fully dressed ready for his day while still sporting his messy bedhead that he somehow manages to make look angelic. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, I still see his beauty and that’s something I don’t think could ever change. Because that is what he is a beauty inside and out and that can’t simply disappear.
He greets me with a gentle kiss on the forehead, a soft “good morning” and a soft smile. We’ve been like this for a while now, stuck in this certain level of interaction almost a routine. Like lovers without any extreme development, without any growth in our relationship if you can even call it that anymore.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask a bit apprehensively.
He picks up the coffeepot, while avoiding any slight piece of eye contact and pours himself a cup with the coffee I made for him, just another part of our routine. I’ve always hated coffee, its dull blackness, the bitter taste, the way it leaves a stain, how the smell lingers, and how it keeps you awake. But after Jungkook that view changed for me, its dull blackness suddenly started reminding me of Jungkook’s dark dreamy eyes, the bitter taste of it reminded me of his lips as that was my only intake of it, and those stains it left was warmth around my heart, the smell was like being engulfed in his arms, and it allowed me and him to be up spending more hours together. In a way, coffee was like a representation of our love.
However, that love has turned black and bitter just like the coffee in his mug. The sweet smiles we always shared and the bright laughs that used to be heard between us vanished. He vanished, pulled away and it was too late to try to pull him back.
“Mhm,” he replies nodding while taking a sip, and like our love, it disappears as he swallows it down.
I nod with him and look down at my hands wrapped around my mug. Is this the losing hand that time has placed? Were we just doomed to keep repeating the same routine with each other in denial, in silence similar to the one we are currently sitting in a few metres apart while we are living in different worlds away from one another?  We haven’t ended it but it’s already over. We were already over.
He refuses to have conversations with me when before no one could ever shut us up. Instead of constantly messing around to get a smile out of each other, he always seems to be at a safe distance away from me.
there’s a knot that can’t be untied in front of us
As the bottoms of both our cups are revealed, so is our obvious stunt to keep a conversation from starting. Jungkook sets his mug in the sink and approaches me, and with just those movements my heart races.
“Well I’m going to head off okay?”, he stares at me with an expression I struggle to read…it’s almost…apologetic.
“Yeah, I need to start getting ready anyway,” I say.
“Okay then I guess I’ll see you later,” he says like it's a question while picking up his keys and approaching the door. As if he is unsure we will return to each other as if we are not one another's home.
I hum in agreement and just as his hand is about to touch the knob. I realise he forgot, one of the things that I assumed had turned into second nature for us has slipped out of his head. Now fearing that I could be the next thing to slip out of his head or even worse slip out of his life.
“Jungkook?” I call out.
He turns almost too quickly like he has been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
“Yeah?” he turns with wide eyes.
I give him a look, a look that speaks words only he could understand.
“Ah,” he sighs approaching me.
He cups my face with two hands, hands that are all too familiar but feel like they belong to a stranger at the same time.
He gives me the kiss I had reminded him of. It isn't necessarily part of our routine but something we have always done. It was always our sign of love to the other before we headed out into the world, a reminder of our love.
A reminder I think is much needed for us both.
He pulls away still holding my face “Sorry” he says and this time the apologetic look in his eyes is all too clear matching his voice.
But as I hear his words his ‘sorry’ seems to be for a different reason than just forgetting to kiss me before leaving the house. But without thinking more I just let it go.
“It’s okay. Get going now or you’ll be late.” I laugh softly and with one last kiss, he’s out the door.
There’s a knot that can’t be untied in front of us, both knowing that we should let go, that we should kiss goodbye one last time and both walk out of that door and go our separate ways for good. But that is easier said than done.
Jungkook and I both well aware of the fall in our relationship are also conscious of the love that will forever remain between us. The history between us is far too much for us to walk away. To take five years of memories and experiences with a person you’ve grown with so much that they have become an attachment to your life, to you as a person is an unimaginable pain that we would both rather avoid.
It is also scary, Jungkook is the one thing I remember having through everything, he is essentially a part of me. The thought of becoming one person again is something I never pictured having to do again. In all of my plans for myself, and for the future he is right there beside me. I have become accustomed to considering things for two people I couldn’t imagine just worrying about me, one person.
But as I consider what is right for the two of us all I can think of is that maybe we were better off as two separate people.
you don’t tell me but you want me to know you think that you only gave the words you threw at me because you’re too used to me
As the day comes to a close I hear the door open and footsteps follow. The sound I used to anticipate now makes me tense. Nevertheless, once the owner of those steps and so much more turns the corner, my lips can’t help but leap into a smile that’s both relieved and nervous.
Jungkook takes off his shoes and takes a seat beside me, with yet a space once again between us.
“Hey,” he breathes out as he settles into the couch.
I slightly hesitate, “Hey”
We sit in silence but hear everything that wants to be said. An invisible weight piling up on our shoulders, an awkwardness that has become usual between us. So I finally broke it and said it. The moment we never believed would come or tried to avoid finally came.
“L-look Jungkook," I take a deep breath and continue, "we both know what has happened between us-“
“Ye-Wait, what?” he interrupts, eyebrows furrowed.
“No, it's time we finally faced it, we’ve run our course. I supposed our time together was only supposed to be this long.”
“What are you talking about?-“
This time it is me who interrupts.
“It's just hard for me to let go of you, you just mean so much to me but I can’t control how you feel.”
“Huh? How do I feel? What do you mean? What are you even talking about right now?" he rushes out.
“It's okay you don’t have to keep silent like you’re keeping some secret from me, I know. You’ve lost feelings for me”
“No, you’re not listening to me-“
“Kookie, it's okay I’m a big girl I’ve broken up with a guy before.”
“Break up?", his voice panicked, "Woah just listen to me for one second, will you? Holy shit!”
Once again we sit in silence except this time I can’t hear the silent words waiting to be said.
He shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You think you know but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about not even close.”
“I-I thought-“ I stutter out eyes widened.
“Yeah exactly, you thought. Or is that what you want? Do you want to break up?” he asks staring me directly in my eyes, his voice much softer with apprehension.
“I want to make things easier for you,” I reply in a whisper head lowered as I fiddle with my hands in my lap.
He gives me a look, a look as if I have just said something impossible to comprehend. We were both unaware of what had been happening between us for months. It's like he has become so used to the act we put on to ignore our downfall that he forgot it was an act.
“Easier? " he scoffs a laugh with zero humour, "Is breaking up something easy for you?” he argues back.
The fact that he was going to sit there and continue to play this game even after I called it out sparked an emotion inside of me and the one that decided to come out was anger.
“Oh, come on Jungkook! We both know you checked out on us a long time ago.”
His eyes widen and then he also snaps.
“Me? I checked out, are you being fucking serious right now? I know I have pulled away a bit but you didn’t give me any sign to do otherwise!”
“Are you seriously turning this on me right now?” I snapped back with a newfound boldness to defend myself instead of my initial plan to make this an easy conversation for him. For us.
“Well, I’m not going to blame myself, even though that’s what you’re trying to do. Just because you know me, you think that means you know all my inner fucking feelings. When it's clear you don’t know mine or your own!” He says in a stern and loud tone that I have heard him use in the past…. just never to me.
indifferent and painful words left deep scars on that day words that made me realize that i’m still a fool
“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so easy for me to read your feelings if it wasn’t so blatantly obvious on your face and the way you act differently around me now!”
“And you think I started acting the way I did simply because I suddenly just lost all my feelings for you? You can’t be that clueless!”
The words being thrown between us were indifferent and painful which had already left their mark on both of us and only made us more frustrated. At this point, the distance between us seems bigger than the couch itself and my heart feels heavier than when I thought we were about to break up.
“No, you can’t be this low into making this seem like it’s all on me! And not knowing my feelings how does that even make sense?” I blurt out.
“Seriously, I know when we first started having problems we both started acting slightly different towards each other but it was never this bad…” voice much calmer and less tense than it was a few seconds ago as he continued.
“But it was after my birthday, you know after what happened, you just changed how you acted toward me -with me completely.” His tone turned the air serious almost still. I felt it slap me right across my face, run right into my chest knocking the air out of me.
“I-I did?", making my way full circle back to stuttering.
The next words that come out of his mouth make me realize the fool that I am. And at this realization, I could only tear up. Choked up it is my eyes this time that turn apologetic, while his eyes look at the floor before us.
He nods.
“You did. At first, it was just little things like not asking me to pick you up on my way home or not asking for my shirt to wear to bed. But then it turned into so much more.”
I looked down filled with a bit of shame. Until I heard a sound from him I didn’t expect, a chuckle.
“Just like that. You didn’t even look at me anymore. At the table, in the car, you even turn your back to me when we’re in bed. I used to catch you staring at me even when I wasn’t looking at you.” He smiles fondly at the memory and it’s his turn to look down at his hands.
He plays with his bracelet, one I got for him two years ago for his birthday. He shakes his head, ”It’s as if my presence makes you completely uncomfortable now.” his voice cracks.
And it is right then when I do too.
if only i can erase it if only i can
At that moment I wished I had done the exact thing he told me I always did. Because once I did look up at him what I saw broke me. His eyes filled with tears he is trying to hold back, a few escaping but he is quick to wipe them away. It was the worst thing I could see besides looking at me driving him away. It was me hurting him. If I could erase everything I did to make him think that I didn't love being around him I would, and now I could.
i took you for granted but just thinking of you not being there i don’t want to go through that my world would crumble
Although I may not be able to erase everything I can change everything from here on to prove to him he has the wrong view of what he is to me. He is the furthest thing than just an uncomfortable presence. He is my best friend, my roommate, my chauffeur, my home, my family, and my lover. My everything. Even the thought of him not being in my life…my whole world would fall apart.
am i the one for you at some point, you were keeping me in check i said you changed a lot but i changed the most the one for me, i didn’t know but that promise keeps suffocating us time keeps lingering but our time keeps getting destroyed
The tears running down his face make me think he feels the same, that he doesn’t want us to end like this. It assures me of us, that he is the one for me and I am the one for him.
“I’m sorry,” he looks at me and for the first time in a while we both look into each other’s eyes with hopefulness, “I said you changed a lot, but I was the one who changed the most. And I kept acting that way because I had made myself think that was what you wanted. I didn’t want to let you go so I thought by doing that I would hold onto you longer but that very thing is what suffocated us. It's what wrecked our relationship and sent it down even further. We had so much time to fix it but it just kept getting destroyed.” I say with two streams running one under each eye.
He finally speaks after what to me feels like a whole lifetime.
“It's okay, I mean, it's both our faults though,” he sniffs, “We should have had this conversation a long time ago.” He has gone back to fiddling with his bracelet this time him being the one to break eye contact.
He laughs, again catching me off guard with the unexpected reaction.
“It’s funny, the one thing we did the most even when we didn’t need to or weren’t even supposed to do, is what we failed to do when we needed to the most…talk.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as well at the irony.
“I guess we took all those times we told each other to shut up when watching movies to heart.” I chuckle out and he laughs at my response.
that smile came to me, more brightly the cold hands became more warm two lonely souls met not lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely i’ll look into you again, i’ll place your breathing in my ears even if everything but us changes
His smile seemed brighter now more than ever. At that moment the room seemed to be glowing.
I reached out and grabbed his hands,
“I love you, I have always and will always. I don’t want to give us up, I never have. We’ve been together for too long to go back to being lonely and I’d be an idiot to pick loneliness over you.”
I looked at him the whole time watching his expression with every word. I look through the tears in my eyes at him and when I feel him squeeze my hands in his the tears spill over all over again.
“You are the only girl who has had my heart for years. I’ve never debated giving it to anyone else. I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll get us back to the good place where we were before. Even if something has to change I don’t care as long as we are the only thing that doesn’t.”
His words were exactly what I wanted and needed to hear, enabling my tears to keep falling down my face but now out of pure happiness, the pure bliss of us finally back to one another. We were finally back to being us.
I pull him towards me by the nape of his neck, foreheads resting against each other. With our lips brushing,
“I love you” I whisper to him.
He lovingly smiles back.
“I have always loved you too.”
And those were the only words I ever needed to hear from him.
i hope you’ll tell me first don’t cry no more if your heart can see me don’t cry no more
He pulls me onto his lap, legs dangling over his. I bury my head in his chest, my arms wrapping around his strong torso. His arms pull me into a tight embrace, one that signifies neither of us is about to go anywhere.
“Now stop crying, baby.” He teases me, the only evidence of his tears is the red in his eyes.
“I can’t they won’t stop now.” I giggle out past my sobs.
“It’s okay now, we know our feelings are on the same page.”
i’ll go to you first at the end of a different road i’ll wipe your cheeks that are wet with tears and ask you
“Now we just need to figure out where to start where do we go from here,” he continues as he holds my face again as he did hours ago but now the gesture felt completely different as he used his thumbs to wipe my cheeks that were wet with tears, I look into those dreamy coffee coloured eyes of his as I listen to the next words that came out of his bitter coffee flavoured lips that I can already taste,
“Tell me what to do”
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lxclerc · 9 months ago
Text
𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏
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summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo
note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.
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dailyynupdates
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liked by user33, user4, user16 and others
dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen
view all 104,210 comments...
user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected
user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across
user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people
user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?
user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job
user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over
user93 dare i say...they're adorable
user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come
user74 we won for real 🥹🫶
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dailyynupdates
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liked by user23, user31, user69 and others
dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭
view all 59,129 comments...
user93 oh my god look at them 😭
user81 they look so in love i want to cry
user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭
user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week
user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken
user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me
user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀
sincerelyyn ✓
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liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others
sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you
view all 402,452 comments...
yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒
sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu
taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️
sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved
conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶
sincerelyyn die 🫶
user92 their friendship is everything to me
user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭
user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️
user65 you're so right
user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭
user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭
maxverstappen1
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liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷
view all 308,291 comments...
charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening
maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid
landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭
user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed
user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in
user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭
sincerelyyn love youuuu
maxverstappen1 love you more
sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3
maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭
danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous
maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us
sincerelyyn
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liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others
sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️
view all 592,649 comments...
maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️
sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)
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i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶
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emmyrosee · 5 months ago
Note
 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫
THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-
Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-
I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!
—-
Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.
He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.
You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.
“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”
Yeah. Real close.
Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.
And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.
“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.
“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.
She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.
“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.
“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”
You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”
Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.
You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.
But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.
Until-
“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”
There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.
You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”
“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”
You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”
“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”
“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”
“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”
“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.
“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”
“I am!” You sing.
You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.
Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.
It’s only lunch.
You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.
“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.
“I just don’t feel well.”
“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”
Tomorrow night.
Prom is tomorrow night.
You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.
The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.
Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”
“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”
The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.
“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”
Your heart stops completely.
The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.
“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”
“Hey! Why don’t you!”
“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”
From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.
How pretty.
“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.
Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.
“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”
“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.
Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”
“Yuuji.”
“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“
“ITADORI!”
Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.
Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”
“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”
“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”
“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”
“She’s fine. Shoo.”
“Kugisaki-“
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”
You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.
“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”
“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”
“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.
She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”
You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”
Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”
You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”
“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”
“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”
“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”
“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.
Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“
“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”
“But-“
“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”
“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.
Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.
Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.
Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.
The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.
sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?
No seriously wtf
This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?
Why’d you even leave?
You think you can ignore me?
This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?
I’m hunting you down.
You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.
After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.
You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.
If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.
But you don’t care. Not anymore.
There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.
Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.
“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”
“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”
“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”
“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”
“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”
“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”
This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“
“Fuck. You.”
“Look-“
“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”
“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”
“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”
“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”
“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”
His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”
“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”
“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.
“What…?”
He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”
“Sukuna-“
“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”
“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“
“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”
“Then why have you been ignoring me!”
Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.
He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.
“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”
“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”
“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.
“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”
“You want to match with me?” You whimper.
He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”
“You’re so right.”
770 notes · View notes
bloodibambiidoll · 10 months ago
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There’s No Such Thing As Purity
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(Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You and Rafe are childhood best friends and as far as he’s concerned you’re an innocent angel he needs to protect from the world. But he discovers a whole other side of you when you accidentally send him nudes that were meant for someone else. Wk: 4.9k
Warnings: Drinking/smoking weed, jealous!Rafe, posessive!Rafe, minor Jj x reader, brat taming, choking, spanking, spit kink, tiddy slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy kink, unprotected sex.18+MDNI!!!
A/N: this is only my second Rafe fic so pls be niiicee to me. But I love this man. I need him to own me and put me in my place. Thank you to my sweet angel @babygorewhore for listening to me rant about this, and for beta reading for me. Ilysm. Also this is based off the song “Purity” by Lilyisthatyou.
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You’re not necessarily faded, but you’ve had a couple drinks and you smoked a blunt with a few of your friends when you first got here so you’re feeling a little buzzed. You check your phone and to your delight your sneaky link that you asked to meet you here had responded that he would be on his way soon. You smirk down at the screen, excusing yourself to the bathroom so you could respond to him how you really wanted to.
You close the bathroom door and pull your little crop top over your head, leaving you in just your low waisted mini skirt that you push down even further so your thong straps are on display. You stand in front of the large full length mirror on the bathroom wall, holding your phone camera up while you pose. You take a few shots, then a few more, until you're satisfied that at least a couple of them will be good enough to send. You spend a few minutes going through them before deciding on two.
One is straight on, your tits fully on display, your free hand pulling one of your thong straps up even further, and your tongue is sticking out. The second is from the side, showing the curve of your back and the top of your ass sticking out of your skirt, two fingers between your lips. You smirk, satisfied with your work. You select the two photos before typing out the text to accompany them.
“When are you getting here?😉”
In your somewhat hazy, horny state you click the most recent contact on your list and hit send. You didn’t think anything of it, since as far as you know he’s the last person that texted you. But what you failed to realize is during your little photoshoot your best friend had texted you, and you sent them to him instead. Seconds later your phone starts to ring, Rafe’s contact and a goofy photo of the two of you popping up on the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” You answer cheerfully.
“What's up? What’s up with you? What’s up with those photos?” Rafe sounds pissed, which isn’t unlike him, but it’s very rarely directed at you.
“Photos? What’re you-?” It takes your slightly inebriated mind a second to catch up but when it does you gasp, pulling the phone away from your ear to pull up your texts. Your entire body warms and your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass when you realize you sent him the photos, and not the intended recipient. “Oh god… fuck. Rafe listen, can we not make this a thing? Those weren’t for you, just delete them so we can forget this ever happened.”
“Who were they for then, huh? Also where the hell are you? I thought you were staying home tonight.” This was not good. You and Rafe have been best friends since you were kids, and he’s always been extremely protective of you, some may say overprotective. So things like guys and hookups? You keep them to yourself when it comes to him.
“Uh - I don’t see why that really matters? Can you just fucking delete them? Also I was going to stay home but then the girls convinced me to come with them to this party. You’re busy tonight anyways? I don’t know why it’s a big deal.” You huff in annoyance.
“It fucking matters because what if something happened to you? Since when do you go to parties without me anyways? You could’ve at least told me you decided to go out. Also you’re sending guys nudes now? Since when? Who is this fucker?”
“Rafe!!! You need to calm down. Seriously, we don’t have to make this a thing, okay? Just fucking delete them and go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Please.” Your voice comes out more whiny than you mean it to, but you know he’s a sucker for your pouting so you're hoping it will calm him down a bit.
“No, seriously, answer my fucking questions.” He sneers your name into the phone and it sends chills down your spine. He’s been irritated with you before, of course. But never talked to you like this and you have to admit that it’s doing something to you. You’ve always wanted him, but he’s always seen you as this precious angel he needs to protect, innocent. When truly? You’re anything but. You go to parties without him when he’s busy all the time, and as far as your innocence? That was long gone.
“Oh my god. I already told you, I’m at a fucking party, okay? I’m here with my friends. You’re acting like I’ve never gone to a party without you or like I’m a child that needs to be watched and you’re honestly being really dramatic.” Rafe is taken back by your tone. You’re normally so soft and cheerful with him. But right now? You were acting like a fucking brat.
“At a party, where? And you still didn’t answer my other question. Who. Were. The. Pictures. For?” You can tell he’s pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair with his nostrils flared. The image makes your thighs clench. You’ve always fantasized about Rafe putting you in your place, he treats you like a princess, lets you do whatever you want. Granted you’re usually very sweet to him, but tonight? You’re wondering how far you can push him before he finally snaps. “You know you share your location with me, right? I can just fucking look myself if you don’t wanna tell me.”
“Jesus Christ, Rafe! It’s at Matt’s house! Are you happy? I’m still on figure 8, literally a few blocks from my house!! And as far as who the pictures were for? Just a guy, okay? I don’t know why the specifics matter. It’s almost like you’re jealous or something.” You tried to hold it in, you really did, but you’ve been holding back from saying that for years. It was like he didn’t want any guys near you, but he never did anything about it himself and you were over it.
“What if I am?” He practically growls into the phone and that wasn’t the response you were expecting. You had never brought up his possessiveness until now, but other people had and he always said something along the lines of ‘I’m not fuckin’ jealous, it’s just no man is good enough for my best friend’ and it always made your heart deflate, just a bit.
“Are you?”
“Just fucking stay there, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, the line going dead. Your text notification goes off, the guy who you meant to send the photos to letting you know he arrived at the party. Suddenly you feel shockingly sober.
You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. You have two options here. Option one, hide in the bathroom until Rafe gets here and then leave with him, totally avoiding any further drama for the night. Or, option two, you could go out there, and when Rafe gets here, you could see if he really is jealous… Fuck it. You pull your shirt over your head, look in the mirror to check your hair, and exit the bathroom.
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You weave through the sweaty bodies in the living room and head out back to where your date said he would be waiting for you. Your eye’s scan the patio, searching for those blonde locks. Your eye’s meet smug blue ones, a cocky smirk on his lips. Yeah, Rafe was absolutely going to lose his shit when he found out those photos were meant for none other than Jj Maybank. Probably one of the last people on earth he would want you fucking around with. But you ran into him at a party a few weeks ago, hooked up with him in a random bedroom, and you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gone back for seconds. And thirds. And forths too. It’s not your fault it was the best dick you’ve ever had in your life.
“Hey princess, how’s a goin’?” He approaches you, his eyes unabashedly roaming your curves in your little party outfit. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running across it before leaning in close so his lips brush your ear. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Yeah? Maybe you’ll get to try a bite later.” You lean back so you can look up into his eyes, biting your lip. For a second you almost forget all about the Rafe dibocle, getting lost in Jj’s now familiar, fresh, but still somehow musky scent and those eyes that remind you of the ocean water that surrounds your home. But you couldn’t forget about Rafe for long. Your feelings for Jj are so incredibly surface level compared to the feelings you have for him. “You wanna get a drink? And dance?”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” He winks at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
After you take a shot together you drag him out onto the makeshift dance floor Matt set up on his parents back patio. You start to sway your hips to the music that booms from the large speakers that were set up around the area and Jj hungrily eyes your curves. He pulls a joint from behind his ear, raising it between the two of you with his eyebrow cocked and you nod in response.
You continue to sway, turning your back towards Jj so you can rub your ass against him. He pops the joint in his mouth, turning his head to the side so he can use one hand to light it, his other hand coming down to grab onto your hip. His fingertips graze the skin above your skirt and it gives you goosebumps. After he takes a few puffs off the joint he holds it to your mouth, his skin grazing your soft lips. You turn your head over your shoulder to blow the smoke in his mouth and he takes the hint immediately connecting his lips with yours. But before you can even fully shotgun the hit to him your entire body is suddenly ripped away from his, a large hand pulling you by your forearm.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DOING?” Rafe’s voice bellows over the music as he pulls you towards him, causing you to trip and fall into his chest.
“Rafe, I’m just having fun, you need to chill. Seriously.” You push against him but he uses the hold he still has on your arm to pull you closer. His free hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to look up at him.
“I need to chill? Are you fuckin’ joking? Is this who those pictures were for? This dirty fuckin’ pouge? Are you fucking him?” His eyes hold a fire that’s never been directed towards you, and logically you should be pissed, you should slap him across the face for acting like this. But instead you feel your panties get even wetter under his angry gaze, the feeling of his hand on your jaw making your knees weak.
“Hey bro, you need to back the fuck off! She told you to chill, get off her!” Jj tries to grab onto your free hand but Rafe doesn’t allow it, he grips onto your hips, using his hold on you to push you to the other side of him, away from Jj.
“You’re the one that needs to fuck off bro.” Rafe gets in his face, his nostrils flared, his eyes filled with rage. “Keep your dirty fuckin hands off my girl, fuckin’ pouge trash.”
“Your girl, huh? She didn’t seem like she was your girl when she was beggin’ me to let her cum last weekend.” Jj smirks, his eyes boring right back into the taller man’s. Rafe growls, using all his force to push him so hard he falls to the ground.
“Yeah bitch, my fucking girl. Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass so bad they won’t be able to identify you when you get to the fucking hospital.” He spits on the ground in front of the blonde’s feet before turning back to you with his jaw and fists clenched. “Bathroom. Now.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, speechless. My girl. My girl. My girl. Replaying like a mantra in your head. After a few seconds of you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Rafe lost his patience. He swiftly closed the few foot gap between you, his large ringed hand gripping the back of your neck. He bends down so his face is level with yours, blue eyes filled with fire staring down at you.
“I said. Bathroom. Now. Start fucking walking.” He practically growls when he says it and you have to hold in a whimper. The hand on your neck glides down to your shoulder, turning you away from him without giving you a chance to respond. You have half a mind to talk back to him. But he seems like he’s two seconds away from turning around and taking his anger out on Jj and you’ve definitely done enough damage in that department for the night, so you start walking.
“Take me to the bathroom you took those little pictures in.” You squeal when halfway down the hall Rafe grabs onto your hair from behind you, pulling your head back against his chest. He’s looking down at you hungrily, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “I wanna take some pictures of my own.”
As soon as the bathroom door is shut he’s on you, shoving you up against it by your throat, his lips smashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth using it to dominate your own. Just when you feel yourself start to get lost in it he pulls away, a pout forming in your lips.
“Seriously, what the hell has gotten into, Bunny? Where’s my sweet little innocent best friend? Cause this girl I’ve seen tonight, she’s certainly not her.” He looms over you, the look in his eyes is wild, he looks like he wants to devour you and god you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let him do just about anything to you right now.
“Maybe there’s a side of me you don’t know about, ever thought of that?” The smirk that spreads across your lips is seductive, the look in your eyes mischievous. “You do know I have a life outside of you, right?”
“No fucking shit, I know that. But this is not something I’d expect out of you. Going to parties dressed like that, smoking weed, grinding on pouges.” He snarls at the last part, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. He pushes your legs apart with his foot and shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it up against your wet clothed core. You try to hold in the moan that escapes you but your body betrays you. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time, was he bullshitting me out there or did you fuck him?”
“Yeah I fucked him, more than once.” That Cheshire smirk reappears on your lips and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off. He releases your throat to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together.
“You lost your virginity to a fuckin’ pouge? You let him inside of you? When I’m the only one who's supposed to touch you? Bet he didn’t even make you cum.” He shakes your head from side to side, grinding his knee up into your cunt. You really don’t want to give into him just yet, but you’re losing your resolve quicker with every passing minute.
“HA! My virginity? I hate to break it to you Rafey, but that ship sailed back in highschool. And as far as him making me cum? Say what you want about the pouges but that’s the best dick I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah? Not for fuckin’ long.” He walks over to stand in front of the mirror you had your impromptu photoshoot in. He turns to the side, looking you dead in the eyes as snaps his fingers, his long pointer finger directed towards the ground.
“Are you serious?” You scoff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not sucking you off.”
You absolutely were going to suck him off, but he didn’t need to know that, yet. You were having fun toying with him and getting him worked up.
“Really? Cause I think you want to. I think you did all of this on fuckin purpose to get me going. Come over here and get on your fucking knees for me, bunny. I know you want it.” He smirks, his hands reaching for the button on his shorts. He pulls his cock out and your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open. You can’t even hide the look of awe on your face at the sight of his thick cock. It’s almost subconscious the way your feet carry you forward towards him. You approach him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees in front of him. “Take that fucking shirt off.”
You rip your shirt over your head and as soon as it’s off he leans down to grab onto your tits, squeezing them roughly.
“Perfect fuckin’ tits, and they’re all mine huh?” He pulls back and abruptly his large hands smack down on both your tits causing you to let out a yelp. “Say it, say they’re mine.” Two more smacks come in succession.
“They’re yours Rafe, always been yours.” You look at him with big wide eyes and your lips set into a pout. You almost look like his innocent best friend again, but he knows better now.
“Open your fucking mouth, slut. Stick your tongue out.” He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it.
As soon as your tongue leaves your mouth Rafe is smacking the tip of his cock against it. Salty precum hits your tongue and you moan at the taste. His free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrenching your head back so you’re looking at him.
“You done being a fuckin’ brat now? Gonna let me show you who you really belong to?”
“Uh-huh, yeah.” You nod to the best of your ability, all resolve you had left leaving your body. You’re already starting to feel fucked out and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.
“Did I say you could close your mouth? Open.” You stick your tongue out for him again and he leans down to spit on it. “Swallow… Good bunny.”
He pats your cheek and tilts your head back towards his cock. You immediately take his head into your awaiting mouth. You start to swirl your tongue around the tip but Rafe isn’t having it, he’s done with your teasing.
“Just fuckin’ sit still and relax your throat, let me use you like the whore you’ve been acting like all night.” He takes both sides of your head in his hands and thrusts deep into your throat, causing you to gag. “That's it baby, fucking choke on it.”
He starts to fuck into your mouth deep and hard, giving you no time to adjust. You look up at him and his head is thrown back, feral moans leave his lips and his chest is heaving. He pulls your head back, looking down at you. He feels like he’s gonna cum when he does. There’s a string of spit connected from your mouth to his cock, your mascara is running, more drool is dripping down your chin and onto your tits.
“Where’s your phone?” He growls.
“In my purse, probably on the floor by the door where I dropped it when you jumped me.” He rolls his eyes at your attitude, walking over to your purse to pull your phone out. He stands over you again, opening the camera.
“Keep sucking.”
You lean forward and take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on his dick. You decide you’re going to show him what you’re really made of. One of your hands grabs the base of his cock, stroking what isn’t down your throat, the other comes up to his spit slick balls, rolling them in your palm.
“Fuck. You really are a little slut, sucking me off like it’s your fuckin’ job. You wanna act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one. You wanna send out slutty little pictures to trash from the cut? I’ll help you out with that.” He turns the camera toward the mirror adjacent to where you were standing and snaps a picture of the two of you. Then he flips it towards your face and takes another. “Alright. Get up. Bend your ass over the sink.”
You scramble to your feet and lean down so your upper half is against the counter, your ass and hips in the air. The marble countertop is cool against your bare tits and your skirt rides up over your ass, revealing your little lilac colored thong with a dark spot right in the middle. Rafe groans at the sight, walking up behind you while he pulls his shirt over his head. You tilt your chin up so you can lock eyes with him in the mirror, clenching around nothing at the sight of him standing over your shirtless.
“Look how wet that slutty little pussy is already, all this just from sucking my cock?” He grabs the bottom hem of your skirt forcefully pushing it up over your hips. His hands grip the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks. One of his long fingers hooks under the thin lace that sits snugly between your ass, pulling it back as far as it can go before letting go. It snaps against your pussy deliciously, making you whimper. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this ass. Never thought it’d be like this though, not the first time at least.”
“How’d you think it would be then?” You look over your shoulder at him and he looks like a lion that caught its prey. He doesn’t break eye contact with you when his hand comes down on your ass, once, twice, three times.
“For one, I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking brat. My sweet little bunny. Always acting so innocent. Thought I’d have to be all gentle with you and shit. If I knew you were such a little cock slut I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He spanks you again, but this time it comes from below, the smack hitting your wet lace covered cunt. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them down your legs. He runs his fingers through your slit, circling around your clit but not never actually touching it. “Look at this fucking pussy, looks so fucking sweet.”
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” You whine.
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” He mocks, and you think he’s going to keep torturing you but two thick fingers are suddenly being shoved knuckle deep inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” His fingers start fucking you at a brutal pace, this thumb coming down to finally circle your slick covered clit. His free hand comes down on your ass again and it makes you clench around him.
“Whose pussy is this?” Rafe leans over you, his large frame caging your smaller one against the counter top, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Tell me who fucking owns you.”
“You, you own me, daddy. I’m all yours.” He straight up growls in response, his fingers fuck into you impossibly faster and his lips latch onto your neck, surely sucking a bruise into it. Marking his territory. Your walls start to pulse around him and he can tell you’re getting close.
“You gonna cum? Gonna be a good little girl and cum for your daddy?”
“Yeah I’m gonna - I’m gonna fucking cum.” You push your hips back, fucking yourself against his hand. You're about to tumble over the edge when it’s suddenly ripped away from you, Rafe pulling his fingers out of you.
“Rafe! What the fuck! I was about to cum!” You push yourself up on your hands so you can glare at him in the mirror. He smirks back at you, taking the fingers that were inside you into his mouth with a groan.
“That’s what you get for acting like a fucking brat. Besides, if you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my fuckin’ cock.” He pushes you back down by the back of your head, smushing your cheek against the counter. He lines his cock up with your entrance, fully inserting himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh shiiiit, you’re so fuckin’ tight bunny. Always knew you would be.”
“Oh my goddddd.” Your eyes roll back and drool drips down the corner of your mouth onto the marble from the way he has your cheeks pressed together with his hand. He’s huge and the stretch burns so good.
“Yeah, that’s a good little slut, take this fuckin’ dick baby.” His hand travels down your back, gripping your ass harshly before gripping onto your hips. He’s fucking you so hard the sound of your hips slapping together echoes through the large bathroom and his balls are hitting your clit with every thrust. “Your little pouge still the best dick you ever had?”
“N - no, you’re the best I’ve ever had daddy, you’re filling me up so good, feels so good.” Rafe reaches into his back pocket for your phone, using his other hand to pull your ass apart for the perfect view of his cock buried deep inside you.
“I think we should show him how good I make you feel, baby. Show him you really are my girl. From now on the only slutty pictures of you are either going to be taken for me or by me, got it?”
“Yes daddy, I got it. I’m yours, only yours.” He snaps a few photos before setting the phone down on the counter. He grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you can see in the mirror.
“Look at yourself, look at what a little slut you are for my cock. Is that fucking drool?” He laughs condescendingly, a smug smirk spread across his lips.
You look at yourself in the mirror, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is a disaster from how Rafe had been tugging on it, and there was in fact, drool dripping down your chin to your chest. Your eyes travel up to Rafe and you feel like you’re going to cum right then and there. His hair is hanging in his eyes slightly but you can see them enough that the look he gives you in the mirror makes your head spin. His toned chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and the feral moans leaving him are your new favorite sound. His hand grabs onto the front of your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. The new angel has him hitting deeper and you feel that coil in your belly starting to wind up again.
“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, feels so good, please let me cum.” You reach behind you, threading your fingers into his hair while you push your hips back against his.
“Look who can be a good girl after all, asking me to cum without me even having to tell you? That’s such a good little bunny. Go on then, cum for daddy.” His fingers find your clit and it sends you over the edge, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, fuckin’ cum on my cock.”
He fucks you through it before chasing his own high. Pushing you back down on the counter by your lower back, he grips onto your hips, and drills into you harder than ever.
“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had, this is my fucking pussy, you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full of my cum you’re going to have to walk out of this party with it dripping down your legs.”
“Fuck yes daddy, fucking fill me up, please? Want your cum.” The sound of you begging for his release does him in. Just a few more rough thrusts and he’s pushing his hips flush against your own, pumping his cum deep inside of you. He pulls out and grabs onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart so some of the cum would seep out.
“Don’t fucking move.” He grabs your phone off the counter and takes a few shots of your puffy pussy dripping with his cum. “Good girl.”
He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you towards him in one swift motion. He grips your face in his hands, kissing you rough and wet and possessively. He pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts before looking at your phone again, he goes into your texts with Jj and selects the photos he just took, typing out a message and hitting send with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Told you she was my girl.”
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rafesangelita · 4 months ago
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hey sweetie, can i request please [🍪] chocolate chip cookie with rafe cameron and based on the song " hard times" by ethel cain. you know how much i like her (both of you are so talented). you're free with the plot, you can make it angst, fluff, smut, whatever you want with a soft or a dark!rafe. as you please. tysm for considerate it and also congrats on your 5k. so proud of you. and take your time !! so excited <3
₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬
pairing: dark!dealer!rafe x pogue!sweetheart!reader
summary: ❝i’m tired of you still tied to me, it’s just the way that you are. i’m tired of you, too tired to leave.❞ — the never ending cycle of rafe causing you pain and making you feel better.
warnings: a lot of angst, barry being the mediator, crying, shouting, description of unprotected sex, emotional abuse (?)
word count: 0.5k
a/n: i won’t lie, i hadn’t really given ethel cain a chance but when i was reading the lyrics to base this fic off of- MY HEART. i related to this song so much, it shocked me how i never gave it a try. thank you for participating and sending in this request :( i love you so much!! @nemesyaaa
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you were everything rafe wasn’t. sweet, gentle, nurturing, patient. surely you two couldn’t work, right? instead of your differences driving you two apart, it drew you closer like the pieces of a puzzle. you filled his voids while he filled yours. maybe you were too young, but you couldn’t recognize that love, this love, could be bad. you clung onto the remnants of rafe that was good, to you it overshadowed everything else. the rage, the cruelty, the possessiveness, the pain. it was who he was, and you were okay with that.
“why are you cryin’? i told you about that shit already!” you jumped when rafe slammed his fist down on the table, his knuckles already split and bruised. “you’re shouting at me, what do you expect?” you cried more, your pink nails glittering under the light of barry’s dingy trailer. barry cleared his throat awkwardly, flashing you an apologetic look as you rushed to wipe your eyes. rafe ignored your sniffles while he sorted out his product. “do you really ‘gotta make her cry bruh?” barry took a seat after you left the kitchen.
rafe was quiet for a moment, eyes trailing up to look at your curled up form on the worn out couch. he saw the shake in your shoulders, the ruffles of your long skirt disheveled from laying on the thin fabric. you didn’t ask to be here. you didn’t ask for any of this. rafe’s jaw clenched as he handed the scale over to barry. “weight this out, i’ll be right back.” he grumbled, walking over to you. rafe was terrible at comforting people, let alone you who just happened to be the most sensitive person in the world. “hey..” his voice was low as he squatted down.
you took a breath, moving your hair away from your face as rafe turned you around. your skin was flushed, your cheeks hot while your lips swelled from biting on them so hard. “you look pretty.” he wiped a stray tear from your cheek before pressing a kiss to your temple. “you scare me sometimes.” you rasped, tracing his jaw as he picked you up, scooping you in his arms as your head rested on his chest. rafe walked you two down the dark hallway, and entered a bedroom where he laid you down.
you knew what was coming, your hand finding rafe’s as he hiked your skirt up around your hips. rafe knew you wanted intimacy, unfortunately this was the only way he knew how to give it to you. with every thrust of his hips bringing you closer and closer to that peak, you watched his expression morph into one of confliction. like he was sorry for doing this, but also on the edge of pure euphoria himself. you came with a cry of his name, your fingers wrapping around his digits while you felt him empty himself inside of you.
in those few minutes of post orgasm bliss, he held onto you and kissed you like you were the only thing that existed. it was pure heaven. and like always, just when you think you can stay like this forever, he gets up and leaves you naked and vulnerable. “me and barry got some stuff to do. we’ll be back later.” he stroked your cheek before shutting the door. there, in the pitch black darkness, you listened as the engines of rafe and his business partner’s dirt bikes roared to life, the sound fading away as he left you again.
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reidrum · 5 months ago
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surprise songs | s.r.
A/N: okay listen i am not a fan of unrealistic professions for reader who’s dating reid, BUT i just totally know penelope is one to hyper analyze every surprise song and definitely has theories for when rep tv is coming. it’s canon idk. enjoy this silly little thing it’s just for funsies <3 (not proofread im lazy)
spencer reid x popstar!reader
cw: literally none, reader is basically taylor swift for convenience purposes, angry penelope?
summary: garcia yells at reid because you sang sad songs on tour, how could you do that reid
wc: 0.5k
——————————————————————————
Penelope’s heels clack through the bullpen with a vengeful mission to find a certain stupid boy genius. She walks past Derek’s desk who lets out an amused whistle and turns his chair to watch her wreak her wrath.
Hell hath no fury like a Penelope scorned.
“What the hell did you do?” She exclaims, lightly smacking the back of Spencer’s head.
Spencer reacts in shock, “Hey! What was that for?” He tries to rack his brain for what Penelope could be upset about. Did he miss her birthday? An event?
She pulls out her phone and shows the screen to Spencer, who leans closer and strains to read it.
[“SURPRISE PIANO SONG N1 WEMBLEY: Teardrops On My Guitar/The Last Time!”]
Oh.
You and Spencer had been dating for a year now, a little before you embarked on your world tour. Every night you would perform a few acoustic songs that differed each show, and some fans liked to read into the diabolical combinations you’d come up with.
“Garcia, I didn’t do anything!”
“Then why, would she sing those together! Do you not understand how insane those choices are? Together?! You obviously did something to make her do that, and as the only person close enough to you to do something it’s my job to reprimand you.” She huffs.
Spencer chuckled to himself, he knew Penelope was a huge fan of his girlfriend but he found it amusing that she was analyzing their relationship from song choices.
She playfully thwacks his forehead again. Spencer shouts, “Maybe she just wanted to sing sad songs, I don’t know!”
“Bullshit, Reid.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He held his hands up in mock surrender, “Do you want me to ask her?”
“Oh my god, no! You dummy, don’t do that. I don’t want her to think I’m like, a crazy fan or something.”
Derek snorts from the back of the bullpen, Spencer shakes his head, “Okay, would you prefer I sit in a corner and think about my actions?”
“Actually, yes that would be nice.”
He raises his eyebrows in amusement and stands up, walking to an unoccupied corner of the bullpen and sits down, looking back at Garcia with a faux sad look on his face, “This good?”
Penelope nods triumphantly and clacks back to her cave. Spencer laughs to himself as he pulls his phone out, opening up a flower delivery website.
It can’t hurt to cover his bases, right?
The next day Spencer gets a text from you,
Thank you for the flowers, my love. They’re almost as pretty as you. Can’t wait to see you soon, love you :)
He smiles and replies lovingly to you, and sets his phone back down to finish the rest of his work.
Later that day Penelope comes back into the bullpen to deliver something to Hotch, and passes Spencer’s desk, and before he has time to brace for impact she gives him a cautionary smile, “You did good, but you’re still on thin ice, Reid. “
Happily confused, Reid pulls out his phone again to google search what you sang today, piecing together the obvious reason for Penelope’s change in attitude towards him.
[SURPRISE SONG PIANO N2 WEMBLEY: This Love/Ours!]
His cheeks rise in a blush, feeling bashful and loved. He sends you another loving text with a promise to call you tonight.
Safe to say, Penelope is more than pleased with the following surprise song choices in the next shows.
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whatifitis · 2 months ago
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♡ I knew it, I know you - FC 43 ♡
Based off the song: I knew it, I know you by Gracie Abrams
Summary: You and Franco dated but when things took a turn with your career, your world got turned upside down.
Author's note: i was told i should add additional parts to this plot so lmk if that's something you guys would like to see <3
WC: 3309
CW: fights, brief mention of a car crash, a bit of angst i think
You swore to god, you hadn’t thought of him in ages. But there he was, plastered all over social media as a driver for Williams for the remainder of the season in F1. The man who absolutely destroyed you. But you had also destroyed him. You had destroyed each other towards the end of your relationship. 
You and Franco dated back when the two of you were in F2 and F3. The two of you had hit it off almost instantly, already so drawn to each other. You weren’t gonna lie, the two of you almost weren’t a thing. You are terrible at not only initiating, but also keeping conversations going. But the fact that Franco was so bold and carefree, he was able to stick with you till you opened up out of your shell, which was truly insane to you. And you’re grateful for him and everything he has done for you, no matter what went down all that time ago. 
The two of you were always there for eachother, whether one was winning races or not. You would always scream the loudest when he won. Every single time he was on the podium, you’d be so incredibly proud of him, standing there watching in awe, tears streaming down your face. You’d never met someone so perfect. 
He was so different from anyone you’d ever met. He was valiant, hilarious, strong, and so beautiful, on the inside and out. He knew you’d often struggled with your mental health and maintaining relationships, whether platonic or romantic. But he stayed, he actually stayed, through all your faults. He loved you anyway. He was the best thing that ever was yours. 
But now it’s like he’s on another planet, you wonder how the weather is there. 
While you were proud of him for making it to F1, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit of annoyance. The two of you would often talk about the future together. The plan was always to work your asses off and make it to F1 together. He was gonna be the first Argentinian driver in ages, and you were gonna be the first woman in ages to drive in F1. During this time, you guys were gonna save money and buy your dream home together. He’d always wanted a big patio where you two could do barbeques together, where he could bring his family. He also wanted a pool where everyone could enjoy their time together, away from the cameras and chaos. 
But now those dreams are just that. Dreams. 
The breakup wasn’t necessarily mutual or on good terms. Franco initially wanted to work things out and talk but you didn’t think it’d fix anything. Things were already getting rocky as your racing career was coming to an end. After a bad accident all those years ago, you weren’t able to get back in the car. And for that, you were so angry. Racing was all you could do, you didn’t have a backup plan. Your anger got the best of you and you were taking it out on those around you. Franco got the worst of it though wanting to do his best to help you, but all it did was make you feel pitied. 
Things just kept spiraling from there, til you officially ended things with him. 
It was the night after the F2 race in Monaco. You had been there the whole weekend, cheering on all your friends. You were making your way to see Franco but you were stopped by a journalist. You weren’t really in the mood to speak to a stranger but you decided it wouldn’t do any harm to stop for a minute or two. 
The journalist was a young man, about your age and a bit taller than you. 
“Hello, thanks for taking a moment to speak with me.”
You simply smile at him, still not feeling all that sociallike. 
“I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”“Sure. Hit me.”
“My first question is, how does it feel to have had to drop out of racing due to your crash back in Australia?”“Oh well, you know, it didn’t feel great. I’m super disappointed in my performance from that day and of course not being able to race again has been a big struggle. I miss it a lot, but there’s nothing I can do now besides keep going. I’m still gonna come to some of the races and cheer on and support my friends.”
“Amazing. Now, how does it feel to know you won’t be the next woman in Formula 1? To know that you’ve essentially let down so many women, young and old, with you leaving the sport?”
You were honestly baffled by that question. Why the fuck would he ask that? Who in their right mind asks that? 
You seriously had no words, so you simply nodded your head and walked away. 
When you reached Franco, he could practically smell the rage emanating from you. 
“Amor, what’s wrong?” going to touch your arm, before you quickly pull away.
“Nothing. Let’s go.” 
Your shortness with him wasn’t new at this point, so he stayed quiet till you guys reached your flat.
Once you guys had walked in, he was quick to ask what happened at the track that led you to be stomping around with smoke coming out your ears. You told him everything that happened with the journalist, and he was nothing but sorry that something like that had happened to you. He knew how hard your transition was into a life without racing. 
“Baby, I know things are hard right now, but we can figure it out. This isn’t the end.” Franco tried to reason with you. But all you could see was red, feeling an intense pressure and heat in your chest. 
“You don’t even get it. My career is over, everything I’ve worked towards is gone. I have nothing left.”
Your words hit Franco, like a knife. You had nothing left? What about him?
“There are so many things you can do. We’ll find something that works for you. Stop being negative and actually try.” 
“Fuck you. I am trying, you don’t understand how hard this is. Everything’s working for you. Your life is perfect and amazing. Stop pitying me. I’m not a child.”
Somewhere in the chaos in your mind, you had lost all sense of where you were and who you were talking to. All you knew was that you were screaming everything you felt. 
Your mind was racing, you weren’t making total sense. 
After the race today and having dealt with you these past few months, he was tired. He wasn’t gonna coddle you and go easy on you anymore. 
“Well you’re sure acting like one. You need to grow up. Shit happens and you have to deal with it. Not everything will work out in life, you just have to deal with it.”
“Easy for you to say. Your life is perfect and you have everything you want.”
“If I had everything I wanted, then I wouldn’t have a girlfriend who’s giving up. I’d have a better girlfriend.” 
What? Did he really just say that? I hate when we fight, sucks when we fight. 
“I can’t pretend I’m sorry, when I’m not sorry. All I’ve ever done was my best when it comes to you and us. Unfortunately your girlfriend is awful.” 
You looked him in the eye one final time, “Get out. We’re done.” 
“That’s it? You’re gonna give up so easily?” he lets out a huff, “Typical of you to give up, again. Let me know when you’ve grown up.” 
With the slamming of the door, he was gone. That was the last time you saw him.
After a few days of radio silence from you, Franco felt abandoned. He’d already felt lost when you told him to leave, the second the door slammed closed, he almost went back in through the door to fix everything. It felt as if you didn’t care about his feelings, like he’d been cut a thousand times. Franco actually struggled to keep it together. He didn’t realize how much he needed you in his life. He didn’t realize how he depended on you, on your support, your touch and how it kept him sane and stable when everything around him was just pure chaos. 
It was hard for him to race after that day. And words could never describe how his heart hurt when he got called up to F1, when he got a seat. He immediately thought of you, he was living your dream after all - he couldn’t even share the experience with you, you weren’t by his side anymore. You were gone. 
Until now. 
Since that day, you have been working on yourself. You were in therapy now and continuing school to become an engineer. You thought, maybe since you can’t be in the car, you could work around it or with it. Things had been looking better. You started to surround yourself with love and support from your friends and family. 
You were on a work trip in Texas, helping a company work on a new up and coming project that could be innovative, when you got a call from an old friend. Oscar had seen through social media that you were in Texas, and invited you to see the race at COTA. When he initially offered the invitation, you almost didn’t go since you didn’t think it’d be a good idea, considering how you and Franco had left off. But it had been years, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You would be able to go and support the rookies and maybe make up with Franco. 
It’s not like you didn’t feel love for him anymore. Maybe you two could work things out and get back to where you were. So you told Oscar you’d be at COTA. 
“That’s great! I’m so glad you’ll be able to make it. It’s been so long and I’m sure Lily would love to see you too.” “Omg, I’m so excited to see her again! I’ve missed her so much.” “Yeah. So, I’m sure you’ve heard. Franco is driving for Williams for the rest of the season, so he’ll be at COTA. Will you guys be able to keep it civil if you run into each other?”
“I can. I’ve lived a lot and I’ve let the rain in since everything. It’s just a matter of how he’ll react.” “I’m not gonna lie, I think he’s been waiting for an apology from you. Er, at least he did for a while.” “Yeah, he deserves one from me. I was pretty shitty to him, I know that now.” 
“I’m glad you were able to sort everything out on your end, hopefully you two can be friendly again.” “Maybe. I gotta go, Osc. Talk soon.”
“Talk soon.”
The amount of various feelings flowing through your body was making you physically shake. You were excited, nervous, happy, and everything mixed into one. 
You pull up Franco’s contact, thinking it’d be better to reach out and arrange a meeting rather than bombarding him at the track. 
You must have typed and deleted about 50 messages before settling on a simple “hey”
Franco didn’t expect to see your name show up on his screen. He chuckled bitterly at the irony of life, bringing you back onto his path after being the one to send him away. He doesn’t even know how he feels about you anymore. 
“Hey” he replied
“How are you?”
“I’m okay. You?”
“I’m okay”
Three minutes pass, you simply just stare at the screen, not knowing how to proceed. You watch as three dots float on the corner of your screen. 
“What do you want?”
Damn, harsh much?
“I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime this weekend? Oscar invited me to watch the race and I thought maybe we could talk. I think I’ve calmed down since the last time we spoke.”
“Sure. I don't know when exactly I’ll be available but I can text you closer to the weekend”
“That sounds good. Thanks for being cool about this.”
“No problem, see you soon.”
He was quick to cut the conversation. Maybe he's just busy. You decide to put your phone away and focus on some work stuff. 
The weekend comes around quickly and you find yourself wandering around the paddock alone. You weren’t able to make it Friday, but at least you’re here for qualifying. You managed to get a few minutes with Oscar and Lando, catching up a bit before they had to get ready for qualis. You made your way to where you were gonna watch the race, texting Franco at the same time. 
He was letting you know he’ll be able to meet up with you after the race today. You were so incredibly nervous because you wanted things to work out between the two of you. You missed him. He was your best friend, and you guess that was the worst part of losing him. If he just said when, you’d play again because you felt more in brief moments with him, than with anyone else. 
You sat down and watched the qualifiers, screaming and cheering everytime one of your boys passed someone or did something impressive. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this. Watching and cheering on your friends from the sidelines. It felt good to watch them achieve their dreams, even if you couldn’t reach yours. Franco ended up in P6, which was impressive considering he’s only raced a few times in an F1 car, and he’s in a Williams car. 
After about 20 minutes, Franco texted you, letting you know to meet him in his driver's room. You made your way to his room after getting lost for about 8 minutes, when someone eventually felt bad for you and pointed you in the right direction. 
You walked up the steps to his room, standing there for a minute, nervous about seeing him. It’s been about 2 years since you last saw each other. You wonder if he looks any different now. Of course you’d seen his pictures around, but sometimes the cameras don’t catch certain things. Like how his eyes are essentially a kaleidoscope of everything you’ve ever loved, how his nose crinkles a bit at the bridge when he’s happy. 
Fuck it, enough stalling. You knock on the door and wait there for a response. After a minute, you don’t hear one so you assume you didn’t knock loud enough. You raise your hand to knock again when the door swings open. When it opens, your eyes quickly find his. 
He looks deep in your eyes, trying to find a glimpse of the past in them, a recollection of the memories you shared together, but it’s like you’re not there anymore. Sure, you’re standing right infront of him, but the you that he knew, the one he fell in love with, is missing. 
“Hey” he said softly. 
“Hey” 
You two stood there in silence for a moment, sort of processing that you’re seeing eachother again in person. As if your brains are trying to decipher whether this is real or a hallucination. 
The silence breaks when Franco shakes his head and clears his throat, 
“Come in.” he says, holding the door open for you. 
You walk in, brushing past him. 
The room is spacious, quiet, yet suffocating. 
You walk to the middle of the room, feeling a bit self-conscious. Turning back to face Franco, you watch as he closes the door and turns his body to you. 
“So’’ he says. 
“So”
“What did you want to talk about?” 
“I wanted to catch up, see how you’re doing. A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other.” you look down, swallowing a gulp before continuing, wringing your hands together, “I also wanted to apologize, for everything. The way I had acted all those years ago, especially towards the end. I wasn’t being fair to you and all you wanted to do was be there for me.”
“It’s fine.” he replies, leaning against a counter, crossing his arms over his chest, not giving you an ounce of emotion.
The burning sensation he feels in his chest now isn’t love anymore - instead it’s a mixture of pain and anger, feeling a riot form in his emotions. He’s wasting time on listening to someone who kicked him to the side without caring about how you had let him down when he needed you the most. 
Well, you didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t that dry and short answer. 
“That’s it? I came all this way to come and see you and apologize, and all I get is ‘fine’?!”
“I said ‘it’s fine’ actually.” 
Why was he being like this? You get that you fucked up a lot and that you had hurt him, but if this was how he was going to act, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue this conversation. 
“Why did you even agree to talking to me, if this is how you’re gonna act?”
“How am I acting?” “Like you don’t give a fuck. Like you just wanna gloat, see how badly I was doing. You don’t know how to step outside yourself.” “You think so little of me? It’s not my fault you can’t sit with the hard thing.”
“Well when the proof is in the pudding then yeah. Are you even sad about the fact that we don’t talk anymore? That all we had is gone?”
“I’m not the one who ended things, you were. You’re the one who ruined us.” 
“I blew all my plans, just to get to talk to you today. I’m trying to fix everything that I broke but you’re not letting me.” “Maybe you aren’t trying enough.” he says as he pushes off the counter and walks towards you, stopping a few inches from you. Close enough that you can feel each other's breathing. 
“Not trying enough? Or not enough for you? For your deluded self?”
“I’m not the problem here, especially considering I’m the one driving in F1.”
“I should be the one with this chance, not you! All you have is an inflated ego and your shallow thinking.”
“I was the one who worked my ass off to get here. I’m sorry you couldn’t join me in this like we had planned, but it’s not my fault that things fell this way.”
“I should be in your seat, not you!” 
“No, you don’t deserve this seat. I actually put in the work to be here.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I earned my way through those races. I was one of the best.”
“Keyword: was.”
“You know that crash stopped me from driving. I can’t get back in the car.” “Can’t or won’t” 
“Can’t”
“No, you’re just a fucking pussy. You’re too scared to get back in the car cause you know you can’t do it. You can’t amount to anything.You know that even if you get back in the car, you’ll never get a seat in F1.”
You stand there for a beat. You never knew he could be so mean. Maybe you brought it out of him. 
It’s all your fault. You’re the problem. 
You feel the tears threatening to spill. You take a breath before saying, “I thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.”
He looks you up and down, lip twitching, “I guess I lied. I had the wrong idea about you.”
An all too familiar sight, his back, as he walks out the door, again, because of you. 
You really thought you would get what you wanted. But what did you want?
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twstedreamweaver · 7 months ago
Text
Missing Magazines
Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader
How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?
Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd
The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.
With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.
And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.
Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.
"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"
"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"
Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?
"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."
"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"
You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.
"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.
"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"
"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.
"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?
You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.
"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.
"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.
No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!
But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.
You sighed; you'll figure this out later.
"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.
"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.
God, was there a single good person in this school??
Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-
——-
You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.
You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.
The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.
"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."
"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.
"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."
"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.
You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.
"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.
"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.
Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.
For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.
You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.
Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.
"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"
Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.
You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.
"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."
For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.
Weirdos. What is up with them today?
"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.
A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.
"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."
"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.
Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.
"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."
The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.
"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."
"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.
The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.
Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.
While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.
You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.
Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."
"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.
"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.
"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."
"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."
"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.
Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.
"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.
"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"
Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.
------
"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"
"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.
"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."
"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"
"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."
Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"
"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.
"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.
"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.
Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.
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livingdeadgirlflorette · 1 month ago
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YOUR FACE ⟡₊⋆∘ carl grimes x fem!reader
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summary : with this weird dynamic between helping Carl smoke, tension-filled silence, and longing looks— maybe this time together might be where unspoken words aren't left unsaid.
word count : 4.9k
tags / rundown : fluff, slightly suggestive, smoking, awkward first kiss, confessions, kissing, inaccurate depiction of how smoking affects people, reader isn't good at feelings
a / n : This was in my drafts for such a long time oml! anyways the tile is based of the song "your face" by wisp, I just really liked the song with this :3 this isn't as long as my other fics but I hope you enjoy just as equally <3
dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
PART 1: SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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The smoke that fills Carl's lungs from your mouth gives him another familiar hazy feeling. It's been an unarguable routine from the two of you— whenever you guys get too overstimulated from the Alexandrian kids or just from the adults, you both go to the same clearing you guys met, sit down next to each other, Carl brings his comics to read and you bring your cigarettes.
And something that he'll always look forward to is you helping him smoke. The feeling of your hand holding his face, keeping him steady and blowing the puff you took into his mouth, him taking it in and breathing it out— all the while you both stare into each other's gaze. But as soon as he's done with the drag, you're eyes leave his— going back to your own devices.
your character had bemused him; how one second you both are sharing an intimate moment, holding him softly and with a fondness, and the next you're behaving like nothing had ever even happened.
Carl wanted to dispel that indifference you'd been feigning— that stoic face you'd been masquerading in and out of the walls. He desired to know what was behind all those barriers of distance you'd made to keep yourself safe. He wanted to know you. The real you.
"You know, I think you're ready to take off your training wheels and do it yourself, cowboy." If it wasn't already evident in the sluggish tone, you were relaxed from the amount of puffs you'd been doing already. Lifting your hand and pulling yourself away from him, he stops you by gripping your forearm. He had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of it had startled you— but then registering his touch had your mind involuntary give you chills in your spine. It felt good, him holding you.
Carl didn't want you to pull away; he wanted to stay forever like this, with your face close and in his space. But he'd have to start saying it before he loses the chance.
"I think I'll need a few more practice runs." He stated boldly. Carl didn't really know what he was trying to say when he blurted that out. All he knew was that he wanted to keep your face close to his. He tilted his head and looked at your lips, before looking back to meet your startled gaze— but as quickly as it had shown on your face, you painted over a mask of nonchalance.
You let out a chuckle. Carl was always one to speak his mind about things, but he always seemed timid when approaching this. You like this side of him. With your free hand, you take another drag of the cigarette before putting in out. With his gaze studying you close, you blow the smoke in his face.
He definitely didn't expect that, because he let go of you forearm and waved his hands in front of his hands to get rid of the waft of smoke from his face. Despite all of this, he still managed to laugh at it.
"Maybe another time." You dismissed. You stand up and look down at him, clueless that he'd been left in the dust. "We gotta get back before they notice, remember?" You finish fixing yourself up before reaching out a hand at his still sat position.
". . ." Carl didn't know how to feel, he looks at the hand reaching out to him and back at you. ". . .Right." He finishes his contemplation and grabs your hand, getting support from you to stand up. He pats himself down to get rid of the dirt on his pants and flannel.
"I'll start walking back. Stay close, okay?" Your voice lets out a stable tone. Hesitant, he nods and goes back to tidy himself up and the comics strewn about on the grass. With that, you turn to the direction of Alexandria and start your walk.
With you figure walking away, Carl was left to drown in his own thoughts. He felt. . . dismayed? All you did was dismiss him but he felt like you threw his heart away doing it. He knew he shouldn't feel like this. He didn't have any right to, you guys weren't anything— You guys were just friends who helped the other smoke, but he didn't want just that. He wanted more. Carl looks back at your decreasing figure before finishing up and jogging to you, matching your pace and falling in step next to you.
He's gonna say something to you about it. He doesn't know when, but he will. He can't stand just being smoking buddies with you— he wants more.
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"So. . . do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice cuts the silence of the dinner table, overpowering the clanking and screeching of utensils against the plates. Carl's movement of taking a spoon of his food slows with his gaze locking with his father's—but then, just as swiftly, he goes back to his normal act, breaking the eye contact.
"I don't know what you mean." He tries to act and put on an air of nonchalance, playing up an act and pretending nothing had happened—just like you do when you and him are in the forest clearing. Carl had never intended for you and him hanging out outside the walls a secret; however, with the fact that his father wanted the best for his son and still tries to show good towards him, he feels like Rick wouldn't be too happy if he found out his son was going outside the gates and smoking—maybe even worse when he finds out he's doing all of that for a girl.
". . ." Rick's eyes are trained on his son in contemplation quietly, watching every calculated movement his son does to see any tick of movement that would give him the assumption of nervousness. He already knew his son was hiding something—but he didn't take him as the type to lie about it; he just wanted to see if he'd tell him the truth.
"Sure then," Rick said. "If that's the case, I guess you wouldn't mind telling me about that girl you go on prancing around outside with?" And with the question alone, Carl stops his next move and fully becomes attentive.
How did his father know? He thought he was good at keeping up his face, but that inquiry from his father left his vocabulary in shambles.
"There's no—what? I don't know what you're—listen, whatever you're trying to say, I— . . . Okay, how did you find out?" Carl blurts out before he deadpans before dropping his utensils in defeat. He figured that trying to defend himself would make things worse, so he'd rather get straight to the point. He isn't going to get anything good out of dodging his dad's interrogation, but he needs to know how he knew first before he tells him.
"It was Tara's turn to keep watch in the tower," Carl should've known. With all the teasing looks he got from her whenever she talked about girls to him and how he would listen intently, he figured maybe Tara was just in a chipper mood these days, but he guessed he was wrong.
"She saw you and the other kid climb the back walls and walk away." His father finished. Carl didn't want to explain to his father why he did it; it'll just send him into a pit of shame. But he figures he'll have to cross that bridge when his father gets to it.
"Now I'm going to ask you this again, and don't lie to me," Rick leans back in his chair, a domineering aura surrounding him. You'd think he'd look all serious and stern—but with Judith squirming and cooing in his lap, it made him less authoritarian and more father-like.
"Do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice lowered, wanting an actual direct answer from Carl, not the 'I don't know what-you're-talking-about' bullshit he was spewing earlier.Carl didn't know what to say. If he was going to tell his father the truth, he'd have to open up to him about you. And that's hard enough on his own, but to his dad? He doesn't know how that'll go. But it's better now than never. So with a deep, defeated sigh—he starts.
"There's a girl I hang out with, just a few minutes outside the walls from here," Carl recalls the first time you'd met each other and how he told you how smoking was going to kill you. Oh, how much he laughs in his head at the thought of that, especially since he smokes with you now. With Carl finally confessing what Rick wanted him to say, his domineering stance softens, and he adjusts Judith on his lap—who was still moving around, now trying to grab his father's finger using her hands.
"We go to a clearing, and just talk there. She's—. . ." Carl's words pause. He was unsure what to call her; it would be weird calling her an acquaintance since they know each other more than that, and it would be even more peculiar to come out of his mouth calling her a friend—knowing what they've done together.
"She's something else." He finished. There wasn't a word that they could call what they were, and Carl couldn't think of one for the life of him. She really was something else.
"Well—I thank you for being honest with me that time," Rick adjusts himself to help Judith sit properly. "But I wanna know something else." He breathes softly through his nose, readying himself to ask.
"Why?" From the start, when the world fell to shit, Rick knew his son wouldn't be the same as he was before—his character would grow up to be more mature and stoic, having to leave the childlike nature he shortly had and take over this stone-faced disposition. He was forced to forget he was just a boy.
But, with the time that he'd been with that girl, Rick noticed Carl would be less tense, he'd laugh more, and he'd even let out a genuine smile without worry. Something that you had whenever you were with him had turned him back and made him experience what it felt like just to be a teenager. What it felt like to not be always vigilant, just relaxed and content.Carl was left speechless. Just like he couldn't think of what to call what you and him were, he didn't know why he was hanging out with you. Well, he did know; he just didn't want to say it. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge how all of your experiences with him in the forest were something more for him.
"I—I just, like her. She's good company." That was all Carl could say, before scooping another morsel of food and eating it. One confession mixed with another and a half-assed excuse. He knew his father was better to believe just that, but he also knew he wouldn't prod at him anymore.
Rick could read his son like a book. He knew that wasn't just the reason; that girl had done so much for him that Carl didn't even realize it, and he knew his son would think much more about what she was to him, but he knew Carl should let him figure it out himself—rather than condemning him for it. With a fatherly chuckle, he leans a little with the toddler in his arms to pat his son on the shoulder, letting a gentle squeeze.
"I bet she is. But tell her something before you do something stupid." That was all his father said before standing up and bringing Judith with him, walking up to the front door—presumably to sit on the porch with her. Carl seemed to notice that. With the amount of walls they were in, he saw his father felt safe enough to just enjoy the smallest of things, like how he'd just enjoy being with his daughter.
But after finishing his pondering about his father, his father's words rang in his head. 'Tell her something.' Should he? One side of his heart that still believed there was good in this world—how there is still hope in this—told him he should; he should tell her everything he wanted to let out—how entrancing her lips were when they were inches apart from his, how her presence alone could calm all the thundering thoughts pounding in his brain.
But the other side of his that was marred, cynical, and closed-off tells him he shouldn't; well, everything was going great for them, so why should he have the audacity to let himself ruin it? If he did something to shatter that with you, ruin the experiences you already had with him and in the future that you'd have with him just because he decided to do something he wasn't even sure if you'd reciprocate—he'd never forgive himself.
Carl was a mess, and he knew he was. All his thoughts were drowning in confusion just because your person was so enthralling. Your carefree personality and how you let him do the things he thought he could've never done—you were everything he wanted. He wanted you so badly.
But how would he tell you? You seemed so close, yet so distant. All those memories of being close with him and talking about the most nonsensical topics just for the sake of keeping the conversation going were layered on by the other set of events that follow—how after everything you've been through with him, you seemed to shut down—how you didn't allow yourself to get too comfortable with anyone, even him. How whenever you and him pause to get lost in each other's gaze, you flutter your eyes and pull away.
You looked afraid—you seemed to abhor letting people in, seeing who you were when you were vulnerable. Carl despised it. How it felt like you were close and far at the same time, all together. It was like you guys were at a standstill, and he wanted to stop the limbo your character put your relationship in. He needed an answer from you, even if it had the chance of breaking whatever you guys had with each other.
He dropped his fork. God damn it, with all the brainstorming in his mind about how to approach the thought of telling you, he had lost the appetite to eat. With a frustrated sigh, he picks up both his and his father's plates to put in the sink—going to wash it. He'll have to dwell on it later. Right now, he needs to distract himself from the mindless routine of washing the dishes—just to take his mind off it, off of you.
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With the passing of the cigarette smoke, Carl looks back at your face. He wonders if he should listen to the wise words of his father and tell her the truth. But he's scared. He laughs at the thought; after all these years of living and surviving through this wretched apocalypse and off all things, the one thing he was most scared of was losing you. It was ridiculous to him; he's done heinous acts just to keep going in this cycle of life—yet he thinks that confessing what he felt to you would be the end of his world.
"What's wrong, you look?" You tilt your head in inquiry, visibly confused. Carl didn't even notice that you'd seen him staring at you, observing you like this would be the last time he'd ever see you.
"Sad. Or you could just be constipated with how concentrated you look."
Even with the amount of things he's been feeling about you and pondering the aftermath of what could happen if he told you—you still managed to make him let out a chuckle.
"I was thinking." Carl huffs a breath out. He was thinking, thinking of what you'd say. Without skipping a beat, you follow up on what he had said. "Thinking about what?"
As you ask, you take a drag of the lit stick of tobacco and gently grab his chin, just like you always did. No matter the repetitiveness, he'll always welcome that hazy feeling of you getting close.
But before you get to exchange the smoke in your mouth, he places his hand over yours that was holding him, looking at you with such a focus that could burn through your eyes. With his action, your movements halt from being startled, and you involuntarily let the puff in your mouth out slowly.
"This." Carl looked into your gaze. Just like the last time you were this close, you had pulled away. But you aren't sure if you'd like that. "I was thinking about you."
With the confession leaving the tip of his tongue, your face formed a light flush. Carl was always forward with you about things, but never this upfront about his feelings for you. Contrary to his belief, you know. You knew what he felt, ever since he had started to smoke with you.
Even though he was going through the same burden as you, he felt like he had to be there with you first. You hated it. You didn't hate Carl; you hated how you felt about it and how it felt with him. How you let the walls of your heart come down when it came to him, even after everything that you swore would never break. With a doubtful look slowly painting your face, you can't help but try to distance yourself from him.
"Oh. That's. . . interesting." With a heavy feeling, your vision goes to anywhere but his, finally breaking the chain of eye contact you'd been sharing in the blanket of silence. "I've been thinking too, about— stuff." You had muttered awkwardly, saying anything that comes out of your mind, just to fill the awkward silence.
"You think you can tell me?" Even with your eyes off him, you can still feel his perceptive gaze. Carl didn't want you to crawl back into that timid disposition you always had put up; he wanted you to open up to him—let him in that mind of yours.
"If I say it," you paused. "It's going to ruin everything." Your voice had barely let out the last sentence, your tone trembling. Your heart wanted to tell Carl everything—how your body felt flush whenever he did something to gauge a reaction from you, how you wanted his body near you—not just from helping him smoke—but more than that.
But would saying what you had wanted ruin the relationship that was one of the only highlights of surviving in this apocalypse? Will saying what you had dreamed of saying destroy what he had thought of you?
But with your self-doubt clouding your mind and making your body still, you had barely registered the warmth of Carl's hand on yours, holding it with such care you'd think of it more of an intimate gesture. With a gentle call of your name, he assures you.
"Hey, nothing you do will ruin—" Carl paused, unsure if he should state it as what they are. Friends? He isn't even sure at this point. "-will ruin us, okay? I won't get mad."
"I'm not expecting you to be mad," you counter. "I expect that you'll feel betrayed." You finished. If Carl didn't reciprocate what you felt, you were sure he'd be confused. Would he think that all you did with him was just an elaborate ruse to get him closer to you? You weren't certain, but you had an idea it would go down that route if he did.
"If you aren't sure how to tell me, then show me." Carl tilts his head, coyly lacing his time. Whenever he does those mannerisms, you always thought he looked cute. He didn't look like a stone-faced killer that was brought upon this apocalypse anymore, but just a teenager going through regular stuff, feeling normal things.
With that, you contemplate. You were irritated at yourself for not saying anything; it was as if your heart was in your mouth—disabling you from telling what you desired. But with a deep breath, you lean in close to Carl—his eyes going wide for a second, then adjusting to this newfound distance.
Carl knows he shouldn't be nervous; you've been in his vicinity close to him like this dozens of times. But with this unexplored feeling brewing in his stomach, he feels like he should be—because you were going to do something else.
"Don't—don't freak out, okay?" Your voice is so close to him, it makes his ears flush red. He's lucky he had long hair; he was sure you'd tease him for it if you had seen them.
The tension felt thick, just like all the times you had been close to his lips, mere centimeters away. Sometimes you wish that the times you were that close you'd just lean in and kiss him, but inevitably you always pull away.
And just like that, you realize that your embarrassment gets the better of you again. You pull away slowly; you think this is stupid. You shouldn't have done that. You turn away, one of your hands covering your face that was starting to burn up.
"I-uh, sorry, I think I should go back, yeah. I'm sorry—" Your face turned back to his. But before you could let out another apology, a pair of soft lips had met yours, your eyes fluttering shut.
Carl had kissed you. You had dreamt of what it felt like to kiss him. But now that it was actually happening, you felt so surreal. With a hesitant state, you tested the waters and kissed him back, a light push to see what it felt. His lips were chapped, understandable since chapstick didn't seem like a necessity in the apocalypse, but his lips felt gentle.
When you felt the absence of soft pressure on your lips, you fluttered your eyes at him. You were sure your cheeks were burning at this point; it was uncontrollable. Once you guys were at a normal sitting distance from one another, you finally piped up.
"That was, uh, good." Your voice barely above a whisper. Both your gazes found one another, and then, with heat creeping up your neck, you had looked away.
"Thank you, I guess...?" Confusion had still not left your tone. With this, you were also perplexed by your own words. What were you thankful for?
"Why are you thanking me?" Carl's voice didn't seem to miss a beat, going back to his playful self. You were thankful for this—how he could always help lighten your guys' mood even when it was awkward.
"I don't know, okay!" You let out a genuine laugh. "I've never had to think about what to say after. . . that." Your eyes met his. He seemed to have a glint in his eye, telling you all you needed to know that he was planning something mischievous.
"Well. . ."
"Yeah. . ."
This was one of the things that made you abhor having to actually commit to kissing him—the aftermath. What would become of you and Carl? Would it be just unbearably awkward, and you'd never have enough courage to look him in the face again? Or would it help express your blossoming feelings towards you and him?
"I've always liked you, y'know?" Carl speaks up first—his tone soft and careful, breaking the silence you both have been dreading. But with just a few words of confession, he seemed to melt through that weird tension that had permeated through the space between you.
"I know—or like I. . . knew, I guess?" Your voice comes out meek, nervous about what was still happening.
His face went slack—his face contorting to shock and embarrassment, with a noticeable flush of red rising up his ears.
"Wait wha-? How did you even-what. . .?!" His voice was getting higher, something you picked up on when he was getting nervous.
With a small giggle, you answer his question. "It doesn't take a detective to find out you like me, Carl. You were quite obvious." Your face grows a smirk, creating a playful atmosphere.
He looks away with another wave of shyness. This was disastrous. Was he really that obvious? "It couldn't have been that obvious." With a slow turn, he looks back at you. ". . .right?"
"Do you really think you were that slick? You looked." You paused, unsure whether to say what actually was on your mind. He looked in love, but you figured you shouldn't—it would be too fast.
". . . nevermind. It's just that eyes don't lie, Carl, and the way you look at me—it seems very telling." You end your sentence with a smile. With everything out of the bag, you felt light as a feather—with nothing left to hide from him.
"If you knew then, why did you stop?"
"What?" His question seemed vague, out of nowhere.
"Why didn't you kiss me?" Carl was sure you could tell his heartbeat going haywire, feeling the vibration of it beating up to the tips of his ears. He sounded so desperate, but he didn't care. All he wanted right now was an answer.
"Oh! Uh. . ." You didn't expect how much he looked like he was yearning, waiting for something, anything from you. Saying you were scared would be embarrassing, but with everything you and Carl already did, there didn't seem like anything else to do but go forward and be honest with him.
"It's a stupid reason," you say, looking up at him, with bashfulness filling your face.
Without skipping a beat, Carl's hand had already gone to yours to intertwine. He didn't seem to know it, but that simple gesture was already melting away that air of dread that was coercing you to not say it.
"If what you're going to say is stupid, then what does that make what we did?" His eye had a glint of wit that he always had when he wanted to cheer you up, encouraging you to go on.
With your free hand and the still-lit cigarette in hand, you take a long drag. It was funny to you how this small stick of nicotine used to be the only thing of happiness that helped you get through it—to go on and keep living. But now, the thing that was your hope and joy in this world was right next to you. 
"A bad idea?" You finally answer his rhetorical question.
With a dry chuckle, he looks to you and just gazes. He never thought that you'd feel the same way, let alone reciprocate kissing him. He felt like the happiest he's ever been since coming to Alexandria.
"I felt," Your mouth opens to let out another word, but you shut it quickly. Taking a deep breath and looking at the sky. "Afraid and. . . guilty is what I'd put as how I felt about you, I guess."
"Why would you feel that way?"
"'Cause it's you!" You look back at him, incredulous, and your hands gesture to his whole character.
"You and me, we were cool, y'know? And we just hung out; everything was going fine, and I didn't want to ruin. . ." You then gestured to both of you. "This, I suppose."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. I told you it was stupid." You look back at the golden hour of the sky, then just slump. It felt freeing telling him that, but it also filled you with shyness. This whole situation just made you want to get eaten by walkers alive and just sink into the world.
"I don't think it's stupid." His free hand goes to fix the loose hair that fell to your face and tuck it to your ear. The fact that his hand was ever so close to your face had your skin burn up so fast you're sure he already sees your skin blushing.
"I think it's cute."
Your eyes went shocked, but then quickly roll your eyes at the cheesy reply.
"Oh, just shut it already." You both giggle and simply bask in the playful mood that was created.
"No, I'm c'mon seriously!"
"You being 'serious' isn't you laughing, Carl." You smile and laugh as you say your quip. With a smile on his face and a shake of his head, you continue your tyrant of laughter.
But your laughter had come to a halt when he had lifted his head and held both your wrists, and he had said your name. "I like you, okay? You're so good to me, and you're such a comfort to come to when I need solace, and I just. . ."
As if the tables had turned, now he was the one losing his words, them dying at his throat.
"I just need you; is that enough? Can I please be with you?"
"If I ever say no to that, I think I'd need a checkup from our clinic."
Your response went out as fast as he had asked, eager and happy that he had finally decided that he wanted to be with you.
"Yes, I mean." With a final look from one another just looking into each other's gaze full of love and admiration, you both take a shy push in and finally kiss again, something you think you'll never grow tired of. But Carl pulls away just a breath away from your lips, wanting to get one last word in that he knows you won't ever forget—before he goes back in for more.
"I'm never gonna let you go."
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woowee!! it's been a hot minute since I've posted! sorry guys for all of the people that were waiting for me to post when I never did, right now I've been really into my academics and I'm elbow deep into like 4 pending submissions to pass next week lolol!!11 anyways sorry for the rambling, I hope you enjoyed reading! ✮⋆˙ what did you think of this? don't be a silent reader and let me know ⭑.ᐟ
tags: @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle @kawliflo @xictoriiaa
wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? tell me so I can ꩜ .ᐟ
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legendofmorons · 5 months ago
Note
Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.
Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.
When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.
Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.
That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.
They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.
In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.
A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.
As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.
How do you think the boys would move forward from this?
-VS Anon
Dreamscape
Pairing: Chain & reader
Rating: G
Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.
Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.
Warnings: none.
Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know
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You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.
You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.
Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.
Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.
So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.
A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.
You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.
In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.
A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.
A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think
A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.
Even the small flute from your travels.
"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.
You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.
This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.
Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.
The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.
A river runs through it.
Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.
You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.
-------
After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.
First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.
Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.
And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.
You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.
The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.
You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.
Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.
With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.
You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.
Okay, this is a lot.
"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.
"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.
"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.
You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.
"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.
"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."
"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.
"Yeah... Why?"
"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.
"Maybe."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.
"I'm Time."
"Legend."
"Hi, I'm Wind!"
"Wild."
"I'm Warriors."
"Hyrule!"
"I'm Sky."
"Four."
You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.
"I'm (Y/n/n)."
-------
Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.
The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.
He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.
"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."
"What?" Hyrule chokes.
"You're name is (Y/n)?"
About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.
"Uh- yeah?"
"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.
"Oh stars." Time mutters.
"I mean, maybe?"
"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.
"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."
"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.
"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."
"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.
"Yeah?"
"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"
"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"
"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.
"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.
This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.
"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.
"Glad I helped?"
"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.
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canthelpit0 · 8 months ago
Text
Cry Baby
Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader
Wordcount : 3.3K+
Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.
Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n
(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)
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You had always been a bit of a crybaby.
You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.
So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.
But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.
You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.
You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.
So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.
Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.
Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.
It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.
But you were also easy to break.
You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.
Emma stuck with you though.
Until, middle school.
In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.
Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.
And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.
You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.
And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.
Your heart’s too big for your body.
You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.
Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.
A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.
So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.
You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.
Somehow it worked.
You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.
Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.
You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.
Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.
You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.
Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.
Matt’s PoV
I watch in horror.
Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.
I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.
Both of them are currently not with me.
Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.
I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.
The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.
She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.
But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.
The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.
But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.
I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.
I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.
The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.
Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.
I drown out most of the insults-
“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.
The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.
It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.
To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.
So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.
“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.
She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.
“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.
“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.
It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.
Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.
I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.
Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.
Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.
Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.
She huffs a laugh through a sob.
“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.
The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles
“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.
“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.
“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.
Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.
I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.
Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.
By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.
With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.
The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.
I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.
I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.
I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.
There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,
Or her car.
She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.
I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.
I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.
She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.
Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.
I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.
I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.
“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.
We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.
“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.
“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”
I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?
“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.
I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.
“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.
I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.
“My reputation”
I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.
“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.
“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”
I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.
“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.
In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.
Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.
But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.
I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.
But I was right.
As much as I wish I wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.
She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.
Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.
Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.
But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.
She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.
I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.
My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.
I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.
For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.
I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.
I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.
I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.
I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.
She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.
It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.
“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.
She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.
She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.
I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.
“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.
Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.
I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.
“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.
“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.
Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.
“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.
“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.
“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.
My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.
I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.
I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”
She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.
I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.
“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.
Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.
My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.
I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.
“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.
Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.
She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.
Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.
I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.
She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.
I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.
“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.
Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.
“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.
I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.
After all we were still in the school parking lot.
“Please.”
Masterlist
A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh
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unknownati · 12 days ago
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heyy hope you’re doing well! requests r open & i was wondering if you could do a stm w ekko evolving him and his s/o or a friends to lovers trope going roller skating ? :!!
like pls tell me you’ve seen those videos of ppl roller skating .. anyways thxs for the consideration, i luv your work <3
ix. skate to me!
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a/n: TY!!! THIS IS SO CUTE LOLOLOL
dance based of this tiktok, idk if i'm feeling that song for this fic tho 🤔 imagine whatever song you want
*the song i attached was also not the song i imagined for the dance but it fit the fic...if u ask me i was thinking abt drugs n hella melodies by don toliver
guys iwas reading my old writing from like my notes app n why am i kinda getting worse at it LMAOOO
warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, fluff + suggestive (really it's just the dance but i dont see it as THAT sexual 🌚), reader is a beginner roller skater, modern!au, teaching you how to skate 🥹, friends to lovers, slow dancing (backpacking is the actual term...whoops), ekko locking tf in, to fw this fic or not fw this fic...good question!
_______________________________________________
ekko regularly went roller skating with powder, vi, claggor and mylo. and lord, was he a show off.
powder would be skating around in her own world, humming to the music, then here comes ekko zooming by backwards, crouching down, AND on his phone.
he acted humble about it, but humility only goes so far when you're two steps from doing a backflip on the floor. regulars started to build a reputation up for him as "the trick guy" because of it.
anyway, one day the six of you were hanging around in powder's room when you overheard mylo ask, "we still on for thursday?"
you perked up. "what's on thursday?"
"oh," vi shrugged, pink locks brushing against her brow. "we're all going skating together."
powder's arms draped around your shoulder. "hey, you should come with. you busy?"
"no," you hummed, "but i don't know how to skate."
the weight of knowing glances being shot around the room smacked you like a ton of bricks, and once again you felt left out. you opened your mouth to speak up but claggor, wearing a smug grin, cut you off.
"ekko'll teach you."
ekko fumbled with his pen, spinning to face the group. "huh?"
"yeah," vi chips in. "you'll teach them, won't you?"
ekko's eyes land on you, his lips tugging into a sheepish smile without even knowing it. "of course!"
͙͘͡★
the first time you joined them was the first time you'd ever skated, ever.
low neon lights paint the room, flicking through hues with each beat that pounded through the speakers. a glimmering disco ball spun lazily at the center of the skating rink.
ekko stepped on the slippery floor backwards, hands cupping yours. he pulled you forward and your upper half moved, but your legs didn't.
"c'mon!" he urged, drawing you closer so you didn't fall.
"i'm coming..." you croaked, trying to convince yourself more than him. your eyes remained glued to your feet.
he raised a brow and he leaned into your space. "hey," his breath tickled your ear. "i've got you."
you swallowed and awkwardly stepped onto the floor. wobbling legs mimicked those of a newborn fawn, your body lurching forward to find its balance. embarrassing, a voice rung in your mind. you heard laugh above you and it irritated you.
"ekko, help me! don't just stand there!" you scolded. ekko's fingers began to ache from how tight you gripped onto them.
"you won't learn!" he insisted. "listen, if you lean forward, all your weight will move forward. stand up straight!"
yeah, fuck all of that.
your hands abandoned his, desperately searching for a sturdier anchor. his shoulders, of course! you braced yourself on them, propelling yourself upright. every limb in your body grows stiff, your gaze meeting ekko's.
at no point did you register how close you were to him. chest to chest, nails clawing at his hoodie, faces only a few inches apart.
ekko however, was violently aware.
ekko cleared his throat, hands awkwardly floating at his side. his gaze darts everywhere except for towards you. he didn't wanna just grab on you, not without asking first—fuck, you looked amazing under the lights—but you needed help and you wanted to learn and—
"ekko?" you called for the third time.
"sorry. we'll, um, take it slow, okay? i won't let you fall. i promise."
you've only realized this now, but ekko was...kinda cute.
͙͘͡★
you attended the skating sessions more frequently after that. a quick learner, you were. after a few weeks you started to get the hang of skating on your own without clutching onto ekko like your life depended on it.
he'll never admit it, but he missed having you so close.
the distance had you two constantly staring at each other on the floor, shooting each other smiles. they were flirtatious and shy, too nervous to go any further.
with you starting to separate on the floor came you seeing just how much of a show off ekko was. backwards, sliding on the floor, speeding around the rink, twisting with vi to create some insane shape—didn't matter. it was for fun, sure, but he loved seeing the impressed look on your face more than anything.
͙͘͡★
you trail far behind ekko on the rink, still not quite as fast as him. he twists around to face you, arms open, beckoning you over.
pushing off the ground, you speed up to him, barely avoiding a collision. your body clashes with his, almost sending you both tumbling down. you erupt in laughter after finding your balance.
"i knew you'd learn," he comments, the distance between you two growing ever so slightly. your hip bumps his.
"all thanks to you," you coo. his lips press into a line, slipping against each other. should he just tell you? he's been holding it in way too long, now would be the best time, right?
"☆, i—"
"this next song's for all my couples on the floor," the dj's voice boomed out in the speaker. ekko looked around in confusion, looking at the dj booth near the front, lo and behold, powder was behind it, her hand covering her mouth as she spoke to him.
you moved with the threat of departure, then paused once you heard the slow intro to the song. "oh, but i love this song," you murmur in disappointment. once the dj played a song during a session, he would not play it again.
ekko hesitates to speak. "we could...dance anyway?" you glance over at him, glassy umber eyes begging you to not skate away. "...can we?" he tacks on.
you'd be crazy to say no.
your foot makes its turn, wheels sliding across the floor as you faced ekko. it starts casual; just skating, swaying to the music, eyes closed while you just let you and the music get comfortable.
ekko, on the other hand? a wreck. he could only keep his cool for so long. with you moving closer, closer, closer, he was about to fall apart. he kept glancing behind him to 'make sure he didn't crash into someone' but if he had the choice he'd keep his eyes fixed on you forever.
you caught on to ekko's feelings for you a while ago. albeit, it took multiple teasing glances from the rest of the group for it to start to click, but once you realized that you had him wrapped around your finger, that chance was taken and ran, no, sprinted with it.
your hands finally met, which is when you opened your eyes.
"hi," you chirp.
"hi," he parrots, tone dripping with something you can't quite place.
half-lidded eyes watch in awe of how effortless you made everything look. he needed to catch up, couldn't leave you dancing on your own.
as the song started to build into the chorus, ekko started to follow your lead. a lazy game of cat and mouse—chasing the direction of your body. his arm raised, readying you for a twirl that you were waiting for.
your fingers rotate between his and you make it halfway through the spin before you trip on your front wheel. your back lands on his chest.
"sorry," you gasp, heart racing from almost falling. his heartbeat drums against your shoulder.
"no, it's okay," he reassures. his wrists perch atop your hip bone, your arms crossed in front of you.
your eyes meet his above you shoulder. smooth, brown skin tinted a deep red over the lights, small twinkles curving around the planes of his face. slowly, your hips grind back into his. it was impossible to feign innocence at this point.
ekko almost chokes on his spit, but by no means is he against it. the slow wind of your body against his had the room spinning around him. it takes him...multiple seconds, but he starts to move with you, stretching your arms into the air, exposing the fluidity of your movements.
although his anxiety was eating him alive, he rocked with you ever so slowly, arms swishing back down. his hand glides on your upper thigh, chin resting on your shoulder. you crane back on his opposite shoulder, free hand raising to cup the back of his neck.
it felt like nobody else was in the building at that moment, music drowning out behind your heartbeats thumping in your ears.
you lock eyes, both of you stealing glances at the other's lips.
ekko was frozen, caught in the intricacies of your facial features. to be fair, you were losing the ability to breathe the more you stared into his eyes, but it seems ekko is losing brain cells. so, fine. you'd do it.
your noses collide at first, sending you back to his shoulder. like two teenagers. no time was set aside for any apology from either of you after you finished snickering, guiding him by his neck to finally let your lips meet.
the rhythmic beats in your chests synced, the world blurring around you as your movements slowed to a near stop. with each presage of the kiss stopping, your brows knit together and the hand cradling his neck pressed ever-so-slightly down. urging, pleading him not to let the moment end.
it was delicate, and maybe lasted longer than it should have, but it spoke every word that the two of you were too scared to say.
͙͘͡★
during your dance, mylo's mouth flew open with a yawn.
"man, i just wish they'd get it over with and kiss."
"be patient!" powder snapped, leaning on the table, anticipation literally having her at the edge of her seat. she's been waiting for this moment for months, praying for the day that you two just suck it up and admit it.
vi leaned across the table to whisper to claggor, eyes remained fixed on the two of you. she chuckled. "ekko's too nervous to—holy shit."
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