#we should start a writing club
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science-lings · 1 year ago
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my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually
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queenofbaws · 7 months ago
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Hi! Could I please get Sam going ape shit? I just think she should get to go ape shit.
Everyone was staring - bulging eyes, skin grey with terror, mouths open or hidden behind fingers like this was one of Josh's shitty horror movies - but she was looking, and she was seeing, and that's how she knew he wasn't going to do it.
Sam watched Mike's fingers tremble, watched the way his chest kept moving in great, uneven heaves, and at the very first sign of him faltering, she swooped in from the side and yanked the gun from his hands. There was a flurry of motion then, people shouting her name, Mike making as if to reach for what she'd taken, but for the very first time that night, a calm came over her; she knew what was going on now, she knew what she was doing, she knew precisely how the night was going to end, so long as the rest of them stopped messing things up for one goddamn minute.
That time, she pointed the gun at them - all four of them - ushering them deeper and deeper into the safe room despite their yells, their questions, their pleading eyes. "So here's what's going to happen," she said as she locked the door from the outside, forcing the padlocks unnecessarily if only so they'd all hear them click, "I'm going into the tunnel to get Josh and his key...then, I'm going to keep walking with him until I find Matt and Jess...then, I'm going to come back." She raised her eyes from the lock and, without looking, flicked the gun's safety on and slid it into her hoodie, offering the lot of them a chilly smile as she continued, "Whether or not I let you guys back out is suuuper up in the air right now, so if I were you, I'd sit down in a nice, quiet circle and have a nice, quiet conversation until I got back - sound doable, you think?"
six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!
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madamechrissy · 15 days ago
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Do I wanna know?
Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader
Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count
CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble
Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!
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You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.
It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.
Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.
When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.
That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.
He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.
He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.
But not just yet.
Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.
Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.
Satoru can do that for you.
“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.
“Why live here?”
You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”
“Don’t you make good money?”
“Um
 yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.
“Failed? Didn’t pass?”
“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”
“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.
Satoru can make it happen, surely.
“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.
“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be
” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”
“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”
“What’re you asking, sweets?”
“I
” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.
What’s wrong with you!?
“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.
“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.
“No, um
 ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”
Satoru’s jaw sets, and something
 changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”
“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”
Oh, he does.
He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.
Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.
“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.
“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.
So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.
“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.
Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.
Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.
You: I had fun too
 you didn’t have to leave so early.
Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.
Or will be.
Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?
You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.
Satoru: No problem, love.
Love
 that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.
Satoru Gojo, who was he really?
*****
“Hey, hey
 what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.
“I’m so sorry
 I
 My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.
You’re such a good girl.
“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.
“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I
 I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”
“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”
“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”
“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.
“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”
“I have cleaners. Cooking though
 yeah, you good at it?”
You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”
“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”
“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh
 is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”
“Absolutely.”
You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.
“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.
“I know.”
*****
Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is
 difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.
Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”
Fuck.
You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”
“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.
Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.
All you can think of is him.
Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.
He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.
He needs you to really need him.
“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.
He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.
He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”
“Um
 y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”
“Mind somewhere?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.
Where are you?
He zooms in on the location.
Someone’s house?
Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s
 did I upset you?”
“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”
“I
 I don’t know? Um
” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”
“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.
“Good girl? I
 don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.
“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.
You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?
“I um
 went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.
“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”
“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”
“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.
“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.
“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.
“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.
“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.
Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?
Then why is there this gnawing feeling?
*****
The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.
You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”
“It’s an ancient relic?”
“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”
“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”
“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.
“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.
Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.
“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.
“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.
“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.
“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.
“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.
“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.
“Thank you, Gojo.”
“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.
“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”
“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.
Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.
“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.
“Why not date him?”
“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.
“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.
*****
After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.
You’re wondering about lots of things.
“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.
“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”
“You’re so
 you?” He snorts then.
“What’s that mean?”
“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”
“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”
Yes, yes it would.
“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.
“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”
“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”
He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”
Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but
 I like to
”
“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”
“Yes, I like to. Do you
 play with
”
“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”
You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.
He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.
But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however
 you’re texting him back!?
That just won’t do.
He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.
Maybe a date with someone?
******
You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.
He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.
He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”
How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.
“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with
 friends?”
You know he knows.
You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”
Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”
“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”
“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll
 think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”
“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.
“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”
“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.
“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”
“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”
“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”
“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.
You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.
“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.
“Of course, Satoru.”
“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”
He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.
You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.
The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.
Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?
Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.
Having fun on your date?
Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.
Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.
Satoru panics now.
What’s wrong?
He watches as you type.
I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”
“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?
“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”
“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”
“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”
He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”
Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”
“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”
“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”
Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.
His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”
“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.
“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”
“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.
“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”
“Just touch me, please
” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru
”
“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”
The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.
“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.
“N-no but
 please
” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.
“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”
“My what!?”
“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.
“Where are we going?”
“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”
“Slutty?”
“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”
“Fuck
” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.
“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”
“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.
“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”
“Mmm
” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.
“F-fuck
 you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”
He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.
“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.
“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.
“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”
Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.
You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.
He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”
You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.
“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”
You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.
“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”
“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.
Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.
He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.
“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..
“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.
“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”
Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”
You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.
“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.
“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.
You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.
“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”
“You, jus’ you
 Toru
” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.
“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”
“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.
“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.
“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.
“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”
“You wouldn’t come to me.”
Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.
“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”
Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.
“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”
“Ngh
” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.
“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”
You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.
“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”
“Satoru
 jus’ you
 s’good I
” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.
“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”
“S’all you
” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.
“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”
You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.
“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”
Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.
“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.
“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.
“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”
He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”
“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”
“P-please
 please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.
“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”
After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.
But you feel deliciously fucked out.
You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?
“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.
“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.
“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 
“That sounds so
”
“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy
’
“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”
“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh
”
“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”
You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”
“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.
“Satoru
”
“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”
“Satoru!”
“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”
“I
 you
”
“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”
“Y-yes
 I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru
”
“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”
You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.
He’s got you right where he wants.
And you both know you’re never leaving.
Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)
Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut
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literaryvein-reblogs · 17 days ago
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How to Describe Clothing in Writing
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Creating vivid descriptions for a story or character is a mark of a great writer. One specific form of descriptive writing that particularly affects setting and characterization is the portrayal of characters’ clothing.
Writing Tips: Describing Clothes
Clothing descriptions work best when they appear organically in the course of the narrative. The story should never halt in place so that you can shoehorn in a bunch of sartorial descriptions. Here are some writing tips to help you use clothing descriptions in your creative writing:
Integrate clothing into your initial character description. The first time readers meet a character, they should get a sense of how they dress.
Study articles of clothing to make sure you know what they look like. This will help you choose the right words to describe them. For example, it would be appropriate to describe a chiffon dress as “sheer” or “thin,” but it would be clumsy to describe it as “threadbare” because chiffon is not cheap.
Pick outfits that fit the setting you’re writing about. If you’re describing an elegant ball, you might want to place a character in a form-fitting strapless evening gown, as this is a common piece for formal dances. Describing the clothing reinforces the setting you’ve chosen.
Blend clothing into job descriptions. If you’re describing a monk at work, you could note how the loose-fitting sleeves of his frock draped onto a table. If you’re describing a superhero in an action scene, describe the flow of their cape or the stiffness of their boots.
Let your characters change outfits. Show a character arc by marking how a character’s clothing changes over the course of your story. If a character in a YA novel starts out wearing ill-fitting khaki slacks with enormous pleats and ends that same novel wearing a denim jacket with an “anarchy” pin on the lapel, we know they’ve undergone some major changes.
Use clothing to set characters apart. Represent the difference between two characters by describing the differences in their clothing. Let’s say you’re describing two characters interviewing for the same job: One wears a sporty, ruched, A-line dress, and the other wears jeans and a sweatshirt. The reader can infer aspects of both characters’ personalities and make a comparison between two characters.
Reasons to Describe a Character’s Clothing
A character’s clothing is a window into so many aspects of their lives. From a character’s clothes, readers can make inferences about the following:
Clothing reveals a character’s personality. A knee-length fur coat and a corduroy jacket are both forms of outerwear, but it’s quite unlikely they’d be worn by the same kind of person. Readers can deduce a character’s style and personality from the clothes they wear.
Clothing implies a character’s wealth. Is your novel’s main character comes from a working-class background, it’s more likely they’d wear a t-shirt and jeans than a lavish and expensive piece of clothing. Just as in real life, clothing indicates status and wealth.
Clothing shows a character’s point of view toward the world. Clothing can reveal a character’s views on the world. If someone puts on a graphic t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, it implies that they could hardly care less about offending other people. Meanwhile, a character who wears a dressy button-down shirt with a single-breasted plaid jacket seems like the old-fashioned type. Maybe they’re heading to a mixer at the country club?
Clothing suggests the time and place in which a character exists. As part of your worldbuilding process, you’ll want to be as precise as possible about your book’s setting and time period. This doesn’t just apply to historical fiction; it applies to all forms of writing. For instance, if you’re writing a battle scene set during the Revolutionary War, you might need to study the physical descriptions of britches and pantaloons. But if your scene is set in a present-day battlefield, you might describe a soldier as wearing camouflage with a tag hung from a necklace. Simply by changing the clothing description, you’ve marked a massive distinction between these two war stories.
Source ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ References: Fashion
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birdybellicose · 2 years ago
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Starting to realize I need to start making more nerdier friends....
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monzabee · 6 months ago
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the smallest man who ever lived - cl16
masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||
Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.
Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)
Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  
“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 
“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  
“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 
Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 
Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 
“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 
“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  
“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  
“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  
His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to
 well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 
“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 
“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 
“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 
Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 
“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  
And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 
It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of CafĂ© de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  
“ChĂ©rie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 
“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 
“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  
“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 
“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 
“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  
“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 
You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  
It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  
“I’m
 fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  
“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 
“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  
“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  
You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  
So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  
“Ma chĂ©rie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 
“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 
“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  
“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  
“Mon cƓur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaüt!” 
“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 
You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 
“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  
You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  
“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 
“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  
“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  
“Ma chĂ©rie,” he whispers, “please.” 
“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 
“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 
“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 
“Ma chĂ©rie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  
Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  
“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 
“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 
“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  
His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 
“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 
“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 
“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 
“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 
“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  
“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  
“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 
“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 
“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 
Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 
“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 
“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  
He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 
“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  
For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  
“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  
“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  
The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  
“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  
With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  
“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  
“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  
Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  
Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 
“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 
“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  
“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 
He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  
“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  
Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 
“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 
Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 
Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  
With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 
“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 
“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 
Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 
“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  
You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”
“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 
“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 
“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  
“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  
“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  
Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 
He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  
“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 
“I know you don’t,” he nods.  
“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  
“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  
“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 
The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with clichĂ© phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  
He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  
“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 
“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 
You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 
“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 
And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 
2K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 10 months ago
Note
An idea popped into my head that I feel you would write very well!
Rafe x virgin!reader. They are having a pretty heavy make out sesh, he slips his hand into her pants and then she just blurts it out? Like, "I'm a virgin," and she's like terrified. But rafe doesn't mind at all.
(also, is the đŸȘ© taken.)
oh my goodness!! I’m obsessed with this. no it is not taken omg welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!! ty so much for requesting 😚😚😚😚
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your night with rafe had gone as perfect as any night could have, dinner by the beach, watching the sun go down while you ate dessert, and then heading back to tannyhill with him for the night, like you always did.
your nights with rafe always ended the same day, crawling into bed wearing one of his big shirts and then making out until you were soaking through your panties and rafe was hard beneath you. you're sure that rafe might have guessed you're a virgin by now, from the way everything he does is so new to your body, reacting primally to every touch. the two of you fall asleep like that, and you feel tingly from your head to your toes, waiting for rafe to say something about going further.
you're sure he would. there's no doubt in your mind that he's ready to, and he's probably done this with a million girls before you-a thought that makes you want to cry, but you put that aside. you're rafe's now, and you know that giving him your virginity is part of the deal. you're not sure just when that'll be, since he has you in your panties nearly every night.
maybe it'd be tonight. when the two of you get back to his room, you head for his dresser immediately to pull out a shirt, but rafe pushes you against the door. he leans down into a deep kiss, and you let it progress, hands snaking into his hair while he holds your waist tightly, his own hands running up and down the soft material of your sundress.
it's a little uncomfortable against the door like this, but rafe eases you up immediately, your legs wrapping around him while he pins you in place. you don't mean to start moving your hips, grinding down against him, it's just instinct, chasing that toe-curling feeling that you haven't been able to feel with rafe yet. his hands snake further down to the hem of your dress, and then slide underneath the material to the smooth skin of your legs.
rafe's hands keep traveling, gripping your thighs while he keeps you locked in a kiss that has you feeling dizzy, would have your knees weak if he wasn't holding you up. his tongue pokes into your mouth, and you moan around it, not even wanting to pull away to breathe.
you have to, though. rafe's hands are at the waistband of your panties, and just as he starts to grope, finding where he can yank them down so he can finally do what he wants to you, you pull away, hands resting flat on his chest.
he likes you like this--hair disheveled, lips red and swollen, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and then your collar, then up your neck.
"rafe," you whine, but it's easy to let him keep going. "we should stop-"
his eyes dart up to meet yours, pulling his face away from your neck.
"why would i do that, hm?" he kisses you again, but you turn your head away. "finally got you where i want you."
"i-well, i'm a virgin, rafe." it falls out of your mouth, even though you've spent countless hours thinking about the best way to tell him. you've thought everything through, how to say it, how to reply based on his response, how to deal with the embarrassment you're sure to feel.
"yeah?" he questions, pulling away to look at you in the eyes. still pushed against the wall, you can feel his hard dick pressed against you. the two of you don't move an inch, besides for the nodding of your head to answer his question.
"so, no one else has ever touched you where m'touching you?"
you shake your head.
"and no one's ever seen you like this?"
you shake again, feeling your eyes get watery.
"i'm sorry-"
"why're you saying sorry? told you to stop doin' that."
"because... because it's embarrassing."
"says who? hm?"
"says everyone. right?"
"no, kid. not me. you want me to stop?" your body melts into his grip. you shake your head again. "good girl. c'mon, get on the bed. not taking your virginity against this door."
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2K notes · View notes
celuere · 16 days ago
Text
kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?
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pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader
context: your first time getting dragged into a lesbian bar after you came to therealization that men are simply just not for you. little did you know, your friends already had someone set up for you

cw: modern au, dilf arle, implied age gap, shameless flirting, reader is lowkey inexperienced, strap-on, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, arle introduces you into the world of awesome sesbian lex, body worship, modern arle has her whole arms tattooed and you cannot convince me otherwise, no shade thrown on my bisexual icons, i am one myself pookies
word count: 2.9k
i‘m watching snapcubes sonic fandub while writing so i‘m sorry for any lack of braincells in this one
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 „furina i
 i really don‘t know if this was a good idea
“
it was currently 8:47pm on a saturday night and you were stuck in a lesbian bar  to which your friends furina and navia dragged you to, insisting it‘s a
 great way to get you started!
one hour later navia sneaked off to talk to the purple-haired bartender and furina just nervously checked her phone every few minutes while she seems to be friends with quite a lot of todays visitors.
and you? you just stared holes into your cocktail you didn‘t touch for a single time. debating wether or not you should excuse yourself and drive home. you felt a little out of place here in this small community.
finally, furina‘s phone blinked up and her eyes widened before they found yours, a mischievous grin slowly spreading over her face.
she planned something. no wonder she kept checking her phone every few minutes.
„oh, this was a fantastic idea
 you really thought i‘d just drag you here for fun
? i actually got the perfect match for you.“, patting herself on the shoulder for how good her plan seems to go so far, you wanted to choke her.
„that is not what we talked about-!“
„oh, this is exactly what we talked about! i pinky promise you will like her! she is an entomologist at the nearby institute, can name every insect and spider by a simple look and-“
„o-okay, okay, I get it-! still, i would have liked a little warning!“, you bent over the table to pinch her into the cheek.
„ow-ow-ow!! i-i knew you‘d have dipped if i told you about it-! now let got o-of me-!“, you sighed as you freed furina‘s cheek from your deathgrip and looked back down into the distorted reflection of your face in your drink.
„i‘m still new to all this so-“, you halted mid sentence when you noticed that the seat in front of you was suddenly empty, even her drink was gone.
oh this little-
„furina wasn‘t exaggerating when she told me about you being good on the eyes
“, a rather deep female voice spoke up behind you over the music before she came into view.
and all you wanted to do is get on your knees and thank furina over a million times for forcing you out of your apartment today.
because it was so worth it for the woman currently standing before you.
with her white-black hair being put up into a rather not so tidy bun, down to the fancy silken shirt being half unbuttoned
 and the tattoos running both of her hands up to her forearms before disappearing underneath the fabric.
what in the world.
„i
“, you were forced to clear your throat before answering her, „y-yes
 i think that would happen to be me
“, you looked her down once again. twice again. thrice again.
„sweetheart, if you‘re done undressing me with your eyes, i would love to get us both out of here. i‘m not exactly a fan of bars and clubs
“, flashing you a short smile, she put both her hands into the pockets of her pants.
„i- o-oh, goodness i-i‘m so sorry-! let me just-“, quickly gathering your stuff, you threw your jacket over your shoulder and got up from your seat, „good to go now-!“.
„and i haven‘t even properly introduced myself to you
 a little excited, hm?“, she chuckled lowly before holding our her hand to you, „peruere. and your name is
?“, she couldn‘t help but let a chuckle slip past her lips at your almost humiliated expression.
that smile was driving you fucking insane.
 „my uh name is [name]! it is nice meeting you, peruere-!“, taking her extraordinarily warm hand into yours and giving it a light squeeze, suddenly leaving your apartment for tonight sounded like the best idea ever.
„the pleasure is all mine. now shall we get going
? it is a little too crowded in here for my taste
“.
peruere turned out to be a pleasant conversation partner. whatever topic you choose, she had a vast knowledge on almost everything and a charismatic touch to it too. it also came to your attention that she has three adopted children, a son aged 13 and a set of 16 year old twins.
„may i ask how you realized that just
 men were not for you? that is a huge realization after all, not everyone can so easily come to term with.“, taking a turn with you to the left leading slowly to the exit of the park you were currently strolling around.
„it was
 a little scary to be fair
 but after countless failed relationships and dates, i slowly started to maybe consider that i‘m just not really interested in men. and after i went on yet another date i realized mid conversation that this is just
 not for me? if that makes any sense
 furina and my other friends certainly didn‘t seem surprised at all on the other hand, which was
 a little embarrassing if i am being honest.“, you scratched the back of your head as you nervously laughed your own words off.
but peruere just looked straight down at you, not a hint of amusement in sight at your story, „it‘s not embarrassing at all. sometimes you have to try things out and make a few wrong choices before coming to the conclusion that you maybe have to handle things differently. you are not weird for discovering yourself fully in your mid twenties. look, my youngest son ist 13 years old and just now realized that he in fact does not like his astrology themed bedroom
 after we had it completely decorated from ceiling to floor. guess we have to go for the undersea theme he has been wanting so dearly now. that is just part of growing up.“, she couldn‘t help but shove a few strands of your hair behind you ear.
„just like i am now realizing how beautiful you actually look in this particular light
“.
your body felt suddenly too hot for the clothes you were wearing, you weren‘t used to such
 personal compliments from an almost stranger. even tho you never had as much chemistry with your previous dates as you did with her

„y-you really are too sweet
w-we barely know each other, yet you speak to me as if it were ages
“
„i‘m not a fan of idle chitchat were i‘m simply listing up my favorite colors and how many steps it takes me from my bedroom into the bath.“, she is crossing her arms now and blowing a bit of her own hair out of her face.
„well
 i would still like the answer to both of these things
“
something flashed up in the much taller woman‘s eyes.
„red and 14.“
you didn‘t know how the both of you made it to your apartment complex without clawing your clothes off. as soon as the elevator was closed, she was all over you. hands grabbing onto whatever curve they could as her lips moved against yours in an almost sexual manner. sucking on your tongue before pushing her own inside your mouth, teeth clashing together as if she wanted to eat you right up. your mixed saliva was running down the corner of your mouth when the elevator reached its destination.
„forgive me my
 urgent behavior
 it has been a while since i left the house for something like
 a date
“, she stepped away from you, but not before wiping your chin clean of any spit with her thumb and stepping aside, „be so kind and lead the way, dear.“.
you just laughed her off as you walked into the hallway to your door, already fishing out the keys, „really this long
? i guess coming around is a little difficult with three kids to take care of and a career.“, sticking the key now into the hole and twisting it.
„it‘s not exactly something i mind. i choose to adopt them willingly. sure, a little more time to myself would be nice from time to time
 but being a father has been nothing but fulfilling to me. i just wish lyney would stop setting things on fire for his magical tricks
“, she followed you inside your lofty abode, immediately taking her shoes off.
„that sounds
 not really fun to worry about
“, you barely hung up your jacket when peruere‘s hand wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against her. hot breath hitting your ear as she leaned down to your height.
 „i have something much better on my mind right now anyways.“, pressing a gentle kiss to your ear that sent shivers down your spine, „which way is your bedroom, lovely
?“
„it‘s right at the end of the hallway
 i just
“, you looked completely embarrassed away as you turned around, a light blush adorning your cheeks as you avoided eye contact.
„since i uh
 did not expect this evening to take such a
 turn
 i did not take any appropriate measures beforehand
“
that woman looked never more puzzled in her life.
„as in
?“
„i did not shave
“, it was barely an inaudible mumble.
„excuse me, i did not quite catch that
 try speaking up a little.“, she almost looked a little amused.
repeating yourself never felt more embarrassing, „i
 did not shave
 i‘m sorry
“
silence.
 „get your ass into that bed.“
she might as well just slapped you across the face.
„i- how?? isn‘t that the standard?“, you were literally getting shoved into the direction of your bedroom.
„if you think a bit of body hair is scaring me off, then i must disappoint you.“
as soon as you reached your bedroom, she was already fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.
„i-it‘s just that my previous dates were usually never fond of it-!“, a moan slipped out your mouth as she suddenly found her lips plastered on your neck, licking and sucking and search of your most sensitive spot.
her next words came out slightly muffled against your skin.
„they must have been cowards.“
the next moments were a mess of clothes just getting ripped off of you and herself unti you were left in nothin but half opened bra as peruere left a trail of hot and greedy kisses down your stomach. 
„relax and lay back for me. mhm
 just like that
“, watching you as you laid back on your mattress only to feel her parting your legs and throwing them over her shoulders, you soon felt her lips caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs.
„so beautiful
 all ready for me
 don‘t mind if i do
“, she didn‘t give you the chance to reply before she buried her head between your legs, tongue lapping up and down your folds and making sure to savor every drop of your arousal, prying your lips apart with her two fingers as she plunged her tongue finally into your aching pussy. she had you gripping the sheets with one hand her hair with the other in a matter of seconds. one moan after the other stumbling out of your mouth as quite literally fucked you with her bare tongue, her own groans of pleasure being drowned out by your cunt. she was treating you like a gourmet dinner, and holy mother on earth- you never experienced anything like this. she had technique, rhythm, everything. when she slipped the two fingers that were spreading you apart for her tongue, inside of you, it was as good as over of you. 
it took her merely a few experimental thrusts and curls of her hands before she found an enjoyable rhythm for you, and your g-spot along with it. with her mouth now wrapping around your already sensitive clit, you were hanging by a thread. her name was everything occupying your mind while you were swiped empty of anything else other than the woman feasting on your pussy like she has been starved for the past centuries. 
with the occasional spread of her fingers inside of you and her digits rubbing your sweet spot to mush, it unsurprisingly did not take long for you until your legs were quivering around her head, your juices spilling right over her fingers, you were technically fucking her face.
„mh-“, she allowed you to let you ride out your high on her hand before slowly rising back up from between your legs  and withdrawing her fingers.
„my
 such a good girl
 that certainly looked like it felt good, didnt it?“, licking over her lips before moving her soaked fingers up to her mouth, she didn’t break eye contact when putting her fingers between her lips to lick them clean of any of your remains.
holy mother of god.
you could only stare. panting. leaking. as she swirled her tongue around her fingers, even having the guts to slightly moan at the taste of you.
did she plan on killing you? because it was working.
„my
 out of words, dove
?“, slowly letting her gaze glide over your shaking figure, a slight smirk tugged on the woman‘s lips. she was satisfied with the results of her works.
when you nodded lightly to her question she chuckled, „adorable
 the chances are low, but you don‘t happen to own a strap-on do you?“
another reason to thank furina. she thought it was a funny idea to gift you one as your „coming-out-gift“. you thought she was being ridiculous. now you couldn‘t stop praising her in your mind.
„a-actually I do
 left nightstand, l-lower drawer
“, you watched her hum in delight as she followed your instructions.
„now isn’t that just convenient for the both of us
“, peruere eyed the harness for a few seconds before it was buckled on around her hips with nothing more than a few smart handgrips. this woman couldn’t get any better. right
?
„my love, you are staring again.“, now laughing slightly as she leaned over you, a hand running down your thigh before pushing it up against your chest, you soon felt the tip of the dildo pressing against your drenched entrance.
„i just
 i-i‘m just wondering
 hah
 what about y-your pleasure
? let me return the favor- ah-!“, peruere looked down at you as if you just said the cutest thing in the whole world as she pressed the tip inside.
she only spoke up after grabbing your chin and adding a few more inches into your clenching cunt.
„my pleasure? this. this right here
“, she slowly bends down to your face as you felt the tip kissing your cervix. you were now panting and whining right into her face.
„
is my pleasure.“, dragging her hips back before thrusting them right back into you as the older woman watched you fall apart underneath her with each of her movements, she angled her hips differently with each thrust, trying to see which one you enjoyed most before picking up the pace. 
everything was too much. her hitting your sensitive spot with each fuck of her hips back against yours. the hungry and desperate kisses she was showering you in. her free hand pulling and massaging your tit. it was simply too much for you. you had plenty of men before her but none of them ever cared to make you feel this fucking good. to make you moan right into the kisses she was drowning you in until you were gasping for air, running your hands through her messed up hair. then grabbing onto her toned shoulders when you begged her between soft whines and desperate pleas to fuck you harder. to show you what you have been missing out on with her.
she did not stop after you came a second time. nor after the third time.
you were all sobby and sweaty by the time she had you propped up in her lap, ramming her hips into yours while she gently encouraged you to ride her.
„just like that, doll
 look at how great you are doing for me. does that feel good hm? i‘m sure it does
 just look at how drenched my lap is in your arousal.“, she reached up to pull you into a hot kiss by your neck.
„one more, my pretty thing. you can do that for me. can‘t you?“, whispered words against your lips before pulling you right back against hers. her free had guiding you by your ass over her dick as you poor fucked out thing could do nothing but ride her like a good girl. she is going to have so much fun with you in the future. she still had to show you so many things, you surely want to experience it all with her.
right?
she quickly recognized your body growing shakier and weaker once again „mhm, that‘s right, come all over my lap
“
and you obliged. not like you had any other chance.
she let you calm down first, coming into your ear before carefully lifting you off of her lap.
„so good
 now relax while i am cleaning up our mess, alright?“
you managed a soft smile and thumbs up. you weren’t capable of more right now.
all hail to furina.
743 notes · View notes
ceesimz · 18 days ago
Text
Lavender
A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)
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Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3
“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.
“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”
“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”
“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.
“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”
“For the love of god, yes!”
Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 
These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.
With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.
“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.
“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.
You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.
Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.
The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.
From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.
You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.
This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 
You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.
All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 
Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.
For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 
Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 
Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 
This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 
All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 
The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.
You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.
And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.
Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 
You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.
Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.
Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 
Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.
The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.
You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.
“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 
As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 
You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.
There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 
If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.
The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just
 numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.
Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 
“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 
You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.
It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.
“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”
—
Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.
It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.
You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 
Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 
Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.
The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 
However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.
You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 
The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 
You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.
When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.
For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.
“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.
“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.
“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”
It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was
 very needed.
The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.
“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.
“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.
It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.
“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but
 you changed my life.”
Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.
“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.
“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I
 value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”
The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.
Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 
If only you knew how much you meant to her too.
“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”
—
i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)
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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 days ago
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Unlucky Overtime
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SUMMARY: The Spelldrive game against Royal Sword Academy was very close. But it was in overtime that the teams broke the tie and Night Raven College... lost. They were very upset by this loss and need your comfort even if they deny it.
CHARACTERS: Spelldrive Club đŸ§č (Leona Kingscholar; Ruggie Bucchi; Epel Felmier)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss
WORD COUNT: An average of 780 words per character.
COMMENTS: Following the same premise as what I wrote for Basketball Club and Track and Field Club of "What if they lost?"
When I started writing about comforting them when they lose, I ended up finding it more interesting and cute than celebrating when they win. I think it's in the bad times that feelings are most intimate and honest.
When I wrote Epel's part, I was upset about something IRL and it ended up helping me writing him. 😂
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy 😉
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CONTEXT: If there are competitive players who love to win, they are the members of the NRC Spelldrive Club. Leona, Ruggie and Epel especially. They were playing with everything, especially because of the school they were playing against. The game against Royal Sword Academy was very close, as expected.
When the game ended they needed to break the tie and so the game went into overtime. But unfortunately, this did not give your school the victory.
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Leona seemed upset about losing, as did the other players on his team. But even so, he was the calmest in comparison.
They congratulated the RSA students on their victory (or as close to it as possible, if we ignore the slight growls and murderous looks). They avoided unnecessary interactions until they could leave the field.
You know very well how Leona hates to lose, especially when he tries so hard. And so you knew you had to check on him and try to comfort him, even if he says he doesn't want you to.
You go to the locker rooms exit, but you don't see Leona coming out. Many of the players looked at you angrily when they passed by, but knowing how close you were to Leona, they didn't have the courage to even be rude to you directly.
When you see Ruggie, you ask him about Leona. He tells you that Leona left right after he came in, that he went in, grabbed his things and left. He didn't even change his clothes. This worries you and Ruggie.
“You should go check on him.” Ruggie tells you. “And even if he says he wants to be alone, don't listen, okay? He likes your company even if he doesn't like to admit it. I would also warn you not to pressure him, but you already know that.”
“And where do you think he went?” You ask.
“Where do you think he went? Come on, it's not like we don't know his favorite spots.”
You decided to try your luck at the Botanical Garden, and it looks like you were right, but you didn't realize it right away. You go to one of his favorite spots under a certain tree. You look around, but you don't see anyone, until you suddenly see a tail appearing hanging down beside you. You look up and see Leona lying on a thick branch above you.
“I don't need your comfort.” Leona says, without moving and without looking at you. “Go to your dorm. It's late.”
“You wanted me to see you.” You say. “Otherwise you wouldn't let your tail fall beside me.”
“Believe what you want, herbivore.”
His tail was still there by your side and you don't resist to touch it to mess with him. You reach your hand towards his tail, but at the last second it swings, lightly hits you in the face and returns to Leona's lap, away from you. He finally looks at you, but with an annoyed face and growls.
“I'm not in the mood to play. Go away before I bite you... Don't look at me like that.” He adjusts his head again and stops looking at you.
You sit down against the tree trunk. He growls again, but doesn't move. Just like with cats, you'll just stay there waiting for him to come to you. You use your phone or read a book while you wait.
A few minutes later it starts to get colder, you start to notice it and curl up a little. Suddenly something falls on top of your head, you uncover yourself and see that it is a long coat. Leona's captain's coat. You look up and see him in the same lazy position but without the coat and just with the black clothes and belts. You put it on and you start to warm up right away because it was still warm from him having been wearing it.
A few more minutes later and you are startled again by something that falls right in front of you. Or rather, that lands right in front of you.
“Don't you get tired?” Leona asks you, crouching down and looking you in the eyes. “Of being so stubborn?” He has that unbothered, but still slightly annoyed face.
You put down what you had in your hands and stretch your legs on the floor. He gives you a little throat growl. You smile, but he growls at you more, and suddenly he throws himself at you as if he's going to attack you. But he didn't. He stopped very close to your face.
“Yes. I'm angry that I lost.” He says in a low voice. “And that's why you shouldn't have come to me. I don't need pity or words of comfort.”
“Do you really think I pity you?” You ask. “I wasn't worried about you being angry. I was worried that you would fall back into that depressive state of feeling like life is unfair and it's not worth trying anymore.”
His green eyes remain fixed on yours and suddenly he kisses you eagerly. You already know him well enough to know what truly hides behind those roars and tough guy mask. His instinct was to reward you for it.
After he breaks the kiss he lays his head either on your chest or in your lap and hugs you. You are trapped now until he is willing to let you go.
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Ruggie was so angry that Leona had to calm him down. All the NRC players congratulated the RSA players, but clearly only because it was what they had to do. The tension and animosity could be cut with a knife. After that, the NRC players go straight to the locker rooms. You feel like you should check on Ruggie.
You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. Some of the players who passed you on their way out gave you bad looks, but knowing how close you were to Ruggie, they did nothing more than just grumble into the air.
When Ruggie finally left he was still angry. When he saw you, his expression didn't change much other than being a little embarrassed.
“Hi, sorry, I don't have time.” He apologizes, clearly trying to avoid you, but smiling. “I want to put these clothes in the wash ASAP.” He walks around you and starts going away.
You follow him.
“I was thinking about trying those new donuts from Sam's shop with you.” You say.
You see his ears twitch with interest.
“Yeah... but you know, I'm not really hungry. And since they're new, those donuts are still expensive. I'm waiting for him to lower the price a little.”
“Don't worry, I already bought them for you.”
Ruggie stops! And looks at you in surprise.
“You did?! Why?”
“I wanted to give them to you after the game anyway. You know, for the good game.” You see him pouting. “I didn't buy them as a consolation gift. I did it before the game started. I was going to give them to you even if you had won.”
He seemed more satisfied with that explanation and you took out the box you had in your backpack.
“How come I don't smell it?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise, so I asked Sam if there was a way to hide the scent from you. He used a spell on the box.”
Ruggie asks you if he charged extra for the spell. You said he didn't. Before you open the box, Ruggie suggests that you go to a more chill place. After all, you were still near the locker rooms surrounded by players and spectators.
The Windmill is right behind the coliseum and not many people usually go there. In fact, there was no one else there. The two of you sat on the edge of the stream that surrounded the Windmill. The sound of running water could calm both of you.
You open the box, take out one of the donuts and hold it up to his mouth. He blushes a little, but accepts your offer and takes a bite. You loosen your grip and he takes the donut out of your hand with his mouth.
While he was eating he looked at the water and despite the calming sound his anger returned because of the thoughts that also returned to that game. You could hear him mumbling softly, and see his ears back and his teeth showing.
He finishes eating the donut and stands up abruptly, starting to release his frustration with swearing and cursing to the air, kicking the ground and even pulling up grass. You remain sitting on the floor eating your donut.
As soon as he finishes his emotional outburst, which he always did with his back to you, he finally turns around, dropping his arms and sighing. He kneels down next to you, looks at you with a pout, picks up the box of donuts and takes it from your lap. For a second you think he's going to steal all the donuts for himself, but he sets the box aside and lays his head in your lap as if he's laying it on the pillow after a tantrum. You even hear a dog-like whining. If you pet his head, you might see his tail wagging a little.
The two of you continued eating the donuts as you pet his head and ears to comfort him. When the donuts are gone and the box is empty, he gets up, sitting on the grass next to you. Ruggie looks at you, still a little sad, but calmer and with an affectionate sparkle in his eyes.
He doesn't say anything, he just throws himself into a kiss as a thank you.
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EPEL WAS PISSED!!! Leona and Ruggie had to calm him down. Even RSA players were scared to see someone like Epel like that. Like other NRC players he avoided unnecessary interactions with players from the opposing and winning team.
As soon as they were able to retreat to the locker rooms Epel was one of the quickest to leave the field. You knew you should check on him.
You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. You see the other NRC players walk past you, angry about losing and when you finally see Epel coming out of the locker room, the expression on his face is the same if not worse than that of his other teammates, even the vein in his forehead was bulging.
But that changes completely the moment he sees you. His shoulders, and consequently his posture, relaxed and he smiled slightly at you, knowing he couldn't fool you with a big smile. He had a bandage on his nose because of the injury he suffered when he blocked a shot with his face during the game.
You walk over to him and carefully place your hands on his face, showing your concern for his injury. He blushes!
“D-Don't worry. I'm fine, I promise... Gah, wait! Vil’s gonna kill me when he sees me like this!” He suddenly worries.
You say that Vil doesn't need to see him so soon and suggest that the two of you go for a walk so he can clear his head a bit. He sighs and accepts your offer, you are usually right at these times.
“I really need to go for a walk. Or a run. Dagnabbit, I don't even know if walking around the entire campus is enough. If we could leave the camps whenever we wanted and I had a Blastcycle, or... OH! What if you come with me for a broom ride?”
“But you just finished a game of Spelldrive.” You say “Are you sure getting back on a broomstick will be good for you?”
“Don't worry, I can separate a game from a ride. Trust me, it will be good to feel the fresh wind on my face.” He gives you a reassuring smile.
He goes to get his broom and you climb on it behind him, holding on to his torso. The beginning of the ride is pleasant, but eventually he starts to speed up until he reaches a point where you squeeze him and ask him to slow down.
“AH! Sorry, sorry, sorry! My mind went back to that game and I got angry again. I must have started speeding up by accident because of that. Sorry... I think we should stop somewhere for a break.”
He lands on the roof of Ramshackle Dorm.
“Sorry again if I worried you.” He tells you after you both get off the broom. But the ride actually helped me a bit.” Suddenly he grimaces in pain and puts his fingers to the bandage on his nose, it seems his bad mood was returning.
You cup his face and kiss his nose lightly. He blushes a lot again and look away from you.
“I wanted you to see us win.” He admits. “I was so excited to know you were watching. I really wanted to make you proud.”
You tell him that you're proud of him, just as Ruggie and Leona probably are too. Who wouldn't be? He always works so hard to improve. And he's still just a freshman, there will be more opportunities to win, he's just starting out. And for a start, you're sure he played better than a lot of freshmen. You finish by saying that he should rest, especially with an injury like that, and you even offer to take care of it for him if he needs.
“Thank you so much, (Y/N).” He smiles sweetly at you. “I promise I'll give you a win next time.”
If you say that you would prefer him to be more careful, his smile and gaze will become even more affectionate.
“I'll try. Although... hum, nothing.”
You say that now you want to know and he blushes slightly.
“I... I was just thinking that... it must be nice to be taken care of by you. I wouldn't mind getting a shot in the face again for that. Ha ha ha.”
If you hug him, he will freeze for a second, but then he will hug you back and you will feel a loving squeeze, as he whispers a thank you. If you let him, he will kiss your cheek after the hug. And if you want, he will continue with another type of kiss.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months ago
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pop goes metal
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'
rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together
đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€đŸŽ€
"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"
The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."
"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.
"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."
"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.
"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."
Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.
Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.
He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.
His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.
Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.
Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.
"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."
"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."
"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.
"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.
"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.
"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."
****
Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.
He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.
"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.
Eddie stared.
"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."
Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?
"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"
Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.
"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."
"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.
"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."
But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.
"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.
Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.
"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.
"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."
Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.
"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."
Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.
"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.
"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"
"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.
"Um. No I guess not."
"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?
"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.
"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."
"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.
"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.
"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.
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stop4death · 8 months ago
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confessions
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note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will
pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader
summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.
warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything
word count: 1.9k
posted: may 27th 2024
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It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.
“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.
You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.
“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.
“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.
“Um
 I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.
“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.
The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.
“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.
You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.
“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.
“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just
 been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.
“Can you be serious
 Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”
You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.
“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um
 back in high school, I had this
 huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or
 I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”
You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.
“Why didn’t you tell me before
 that you had a crush on me?”
“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”
“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”
You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.
“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.
You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.
“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.
“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.
“Come sit here.”
He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.
“Such a pretty boy
 you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.
“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.
“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”
You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.
“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.
“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.
“Love hearing your moans
 such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.
“Feels
 so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.
“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.
“Yes, I am
 such a good boy for you.”
You can tell that he’s close to the edge.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?”
“Yes
 yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”
You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.
“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.
“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”
His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”
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csuitebitches · 6 months ago
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Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it
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How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?
How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?
How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?
Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. đŸ€
Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.
First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.
People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?
By knowing how to tell a story.
That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.
Experience 
People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry
 experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.
Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.
Hobbies and interests 
Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 
There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 
Vulnerabilities 
Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 
However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 
Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 
And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 
Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality
Storytelling 
Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.
Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 
Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.
A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.
The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.
For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”
Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”
Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.
Vocabulary 
A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 
Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 
Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 
A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 
Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality
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arahir · 18 days ago
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Real talk..do you have any real advice on how to make friends as an almost 30 year old woman

three easy (coughcough) steps: 1) pick an activity 2) commit to the horror of being known 3) know when you're vibing and know when to pack it up.
pick an activity. mine are gardening, hiking, reading, writing, geology, and chickens, and i've made and kept friends through each of those. make your own list of things you want to do, and want to meet other people who do. you can do it in a structured setting, which i recommend. most cities have clubs, activities, and people who are trying to organize. my city has... regular volunteer clean ups along the river, organized hikes, a few very nice community colleges where you can take random classes, gardening events, silent book clubs, a discord for lonely 30 year olds, etc. likewise, you can meet people online through these activities. writing has got me a lot of great friends! having these activities is also important because it will let you keep the friends you start to make by giving you built in places to show up together.
commit to the horror of being known. i don't know how else to put this. it will be embarrassing. you will say stuff and you will go "why the fuck did i say that?" and they will say stuff and you'll think the same thing. this is, unfortunately, how it works. you have to be a fucking idiot at times, and it's fine, because no one wants to be friends with someone who takes themself too seriously. be embarrassingly into whatever you're into. and then when you meet someone you think could eventually be a friend, you have to put a feeler out there. my favorites are "hey have you been to X on Y? i really want to check it out." "have you seen X and do you want to see it?" "we should grab coffee!" it works a surprising amount of the time. all you really need to make a friend is one good conversation and one person throwing a line to another.
know when to pack it up. okay unfortunately, if you're doing this regularly, you're going to meet people who you do not actually want to be friends with. also unfortunate: it isn't dating, and you can't break up the same way. i met a girl who thought i was her reincarnated lover from the 1300s. i met a girl who tried to recruit me into a sex cult. i met a woman who tried to get me to join a lesbian farming commune. i met a guy who seemed cool and then tried to cheat on his girlfriend with me. we roll. and sometimes, we roll away from people, at extreme speed. guard your time and do not waste it on people you don't want to be friends with.
other points i'll add are: consistently follow up with people (even if that means adding them to a calendar), understand when you are the one not being vibed with and don't take it personally, don't lie to try and be what you think someone wants you to be, and practice. all of this takes practice. i was largely friendless for a lot of years because i didn't like talking to people, couldn't not try to be cool around them, and was a shitty person. you're already ahead on all three counts. and another word of encouragement: making one friend usually means making a half a dozen, because people will bring their own friends with them. i've certainly made a lot that way. it's really only a process you have to go through a few times before it starts coming faster and easier. good luck anon! <333
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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 4 months ago
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Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments  
Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech
Jade Leech 
“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.  
Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.  
“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”  
“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”
If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.  
“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed  
“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”  
Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.  
“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”  
He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.
While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.  
After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.  
Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.  
Rook Hunt
“Rook, can I ask you a question?”  
Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”  
“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-” 
“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”  
Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.  
Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.  
“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”  
“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.  
“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”  
And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general. 
“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”  
Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.  
When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.  
“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”  
He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has  
“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.  
“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”  
Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.  
Vil Schoenheit 
“Vil, may I ask you a question?” 
“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.  
“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”  
“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”  
“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?” 
“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.  
“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”  
“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”  
Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.  
“Alright, let’s start here.”  
Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.
“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”  
And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow. 
“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.  
It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.  
Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.  
Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.  
“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”  
It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.  
“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.  
“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?” 
It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.  
Floyd Leech
“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”   
Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~” 
“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”  
His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.  
“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”  
Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”  
He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.  
The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.  
Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.  
“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”  
The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.
Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.  
Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.  
“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”  
“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”  
“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?
But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.  
“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.
“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”  
“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.” 
He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”
He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.  
“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”  
“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~” 
“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”  
They both blink.  
“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.  
“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”  
He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.  
This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.  
“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”  
He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.  
“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”  
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catherinnn · 1 month ago
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Hey can you do a fanfic where cheerleader reader tries to subtly ask Eddie out multiple times but he is clueless and never gets the hint. This goes on for a while until the hellfire club talks about how Eddie is missing out on Y/N, Eddie overhears and realises all the times reader has asked him out and how much of an idiot he's been. Reader confides in Chrissy feeling humiliated that she thought Eddie would like her, and decides to give up on Eddie. Then with the help of Chrissy and some Hellfire members, Eddie plans a romantic gesture for reader then finally asks her out.
Tenth Time's the Charm
a/n: Thank you for requesting love! Also, two fics in two days, I told you I was finally free. Don't doubt to write me more requests ♡
warnings: kind of insecure eddie, some swear words, and a bit suggestive at the end.
words: 2.3k. masterlist
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You were coming out of cheer practice with your friends, running to finally have lunch. You catch a glimpse of Eddie at his table, bickering with his friends. You can't help but stare at his messy curls and his adorable brown eyes from afar.
"Go talk to him" Chrissy tells you when she notices your staring.
"What do you mean?" you play dumb.
"You have such a crush on him, I know you" she says.
"He hates cheerleaders too probably" i shake your head.
"Oh, that's just an act. He would die on the spot if you asked him out!" she chuckles.
"You think?" you doubt.
"Go! I'm telling you!" she says.
"Alright, fuck it" you walk up to his table. "Hi, Eddie"
"H- hey" he looks at you confused.
"Um, I was wondering... are you free this Friday?"
"Uh... why?" he frowns.
"Well, i was thinking maybe we can hang out?" you say nervously.
"Oh... you need me to sell at some party? Sorry, princess, I don't sell anymore" he figures that is what you need.
"W- what? I don't-"
"You see that guy over there? He's Kevin, you can ask him" He turns around going back to his food, ignoring you.
You look at his back confused.
"Oh there you are! Lets go have lunch!" Jess, another of your cheer friends grabs your arm and walks with you, starting to talk to you about her problem with her boyfriend.
"So? Did you ask him out?" Chrissy asks you once you sit down at your table.
"Yeah, but I don't think he understood" you say.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"He thought I wanted to buy weed!" you explain. "He told me to talk to that guy Kevin, and I just stood there! That was so embarrassing!"
"That’s not embarrassing! Just try again" she tries.
The next time you try it's when you find him at the parking lot. He was still bickering with one of his younger friends.
"Eddie?" you call him again.
"Yeah?" he frowns as he sees you again.
"Listen, I didn't want to buy anything from you earlier. I meant... Uh, you know there's a new movie, 'Ferri Bueller's Day Off'? They say it's really good" you say smiling.
"Man, hurry! We're gonna be late for rehearsal!" Another of his friends says from the window of the car. Gary you think his name was, something with a G.
"Coming! Uh, sure. Thanks princess, I'll be sure to swing by the theater if I'm free" he says in a hurry and runs into his van to leave.
You are left standing there once again, feeling foolish. Did he really think you were just suggesting a movie for him to watch? He cannot be that oblivious. Maybe you weren't being clear enough?
They say third time's the charm, so once again, you stand before Eddie at his locker.
"Hi, Eddie" you say trying to ignore the anxiety.
"Hey, I saw that movie you recommended, really fun actually" he says.
"Oh I'm glad! Umm, you know, there's a new ice skating place that opened up here in town. Maybe you would like to come with me?" you make sure to pronounce every single of those words in the question excellently so there is no more confusion.
"Ice skating?" he thinks and you nod. "Uh, I'm not very good at that, i broke my arm once doing it"
"Oh, well, It's okay. We can-"
"But you know who loves ice skating? Chrissy, you should ask her, she'd love to go with you" he says.
"What?" you ask.
"Yeah, she gets competitive though, so don't try to beat her!" he chuckles.
"Huh" you simply say.
"Anyway, see you in class" he smiles and walks away.
You sigh, staring at his back once again. You have to take the hint: he's not confused, he clearly doesn't want to go out with you. You decide to leave him alone. It's nice of him to not reject you directly, at least.
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Eddie was about to get in the drama room that next Friday, when he thinks he might have forgotten his dices. He stands at the door, looking through his bag.
"Did you hear what he did on Monday?" Eddie can hear Gareth's voice behind the door. "She asked him out to go ice skating and he told her to go with Chrissy instead, since he's bad at it"
"That’s it? And then he left?" Dustin asks surprised. "I can't believe him, he has a fucking cheerleader asking him out three times already! And he rejected her every single time!"
"He's an idiot with a big ego" Gareth says.
Eddie was standing there confused, but not for long since he can hear an angry voice calling him out.
"Munson!" Chrissy walks up to him, almost red-looking.
"W- what?"
"What is the matter with you?!" she asks.
"Chrissy, I can explain-"
"You better have a good explanation! My friend is an incredible girl and you'd be lucky to go out with her! Are you stupid?!"
"Listen! Listen! I didn't know she was asking me out!" he explains.
"What?" she looks at him as if he is in fact stupid.
"Ugh, I mean, you saw her! How would I ever think a girl like her was asking me out?! I thought she was just being friendly, which was odd enough on it's own! I know I'm an idiot-"
"You are... very much so, an insecure one" she nods.
"Does she hate me now?" he asks.
"No, she doesn't"
"Is there any way I can make this better? I would kill to go out with her!"
"Fine, I'll help you" she says.
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You can hear the honk outside your house, meaning Chrissy was waiting at her car. She came to pick you up to then go have a nice dinner together, maybe even go by the ice skating place after all as well.
"Ready?" she asks.
"Yeah, let's go" you confirm.
While she drives, you notice she took another route to get to the place. You look around confused.
"I have to make a quick stop first to pick something up" she explains.
"Oh, sure"
After ten minutes she stops at Forest Hill Trailer Park, a.k.a. Eddie's place.
"Come with me" she says before getting out of the car.
"Chrissy what are we doing here?" you ask getting nervous all of the sudden.
"Just trust me" she says and knocks on a trailer door before opening the door herself.
When you get in, you can see a living room illuminated with various candles, popcorn and wine already set at a table in front of the couch, acopanated by some movie options waiting to be chosen.
"Chrissy, I think we're interrupting something" you say, looking around. When you turn to Chrissy, you don't see her anymore, but instead you see Eddie walking out of his room, with flowers.
"Hey" he smiles at you.
"H- hi" you say surprised.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, first of all. I'm such an idiot" he starts, to then give you the flowers.
"These are beautiful" you smile at him.
"Listen, I would kill to go out with you, I swear. But I'm an oblivious idiot who thought you were just being friendly and sweet to me, recomending movies and inviting me to ice skate!" he chuckles.
"You cannot even begin to imagine what an asshole I felt when I realized you were trying to go out with me... but I mean, in my defense, in what world does the prettiest girl in this town wants to date the nerdy metalhead?" he continues.
"In this one, silly!" you chuckle too.
"What a beautiful world we live in" he jokes. "Princess, would you please go out with me?"
"I don't know, maybe Mike is abailable! you should check with him!" you tease him.
"Fair enough" he laughs.
"Yes, i will... you idiot" you walk closer to him with a grin.
"Thank God!" he grins too, wrapping his arms around your waist when you're close enough. "I picked out a few movies, Ferri Bueller's too! Maybe we can finally watch it together after all"
When you see that beautiful smile of his, so close to him as well, you just go for it, and finally kiss him.
You grab his face with your free hand, standing on your tippy toes and locking your lips with his plushy ones. He instantly wraps his arms tigher, bringing you even closer, smirking into the kiss.
"Maybe we won't pay much attention to the movie" you tease.
"It's alright, I already watched it" he says quickly before kissing you again.
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