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#Easy to get along with. Smart. Caring.
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So anyways my plan for the next two months is to kickass at work while I get another job and then leave their asses.
#I'm so mad about this#I've been at this company for 6 years and for the most part everyone I've worked with has been great#Easy to get along with. Smart. Caring.#I've had some not so great bosses and every once in a while I've encountered problem people#But repeatedly one person (not in my vertical but a key person in my org)#Has repeatedly made me feel like shit. Even if she claims to mean well or whatever#I absolutely never feel like we're ok the same team. It always feels like it's her team or death#Which is not an environment I thrive in#And then her boss (who is also my bosses boss) either feeds into that or exacerbates it#I wish I had had the words during our engagement survey because I'm not the only one who feels this way#So many people go into a meeting with her expecting to talk about one thing and instead she asks for something else entirely#It consistently feels like she has no trust in her team and she does not want to foster a culture of 'we're in the same team'#She is fostering a culture of 'im the boss so I'll dictate exactly what I want and I am free to change it at any time'#So. Anyways. If you know of companies hiring in their product or portfolio space hit me up.#I spent 10 hours trying not to cry at work today and then had three separate little cries#Going to going with my boss a little about taking a week off soon#He's going to be alarmed and concerned but like. He should be.#(my boss is generally great my only complaint is that he hasn't figure out how to work with his boss yet so that's compounding my issues.#But that is not all on him. And he has never once made me feel like we're not on the same team)#Blah blah ok. Tomorrow I work and then do the life shit I didn't do today#The day after that I do a second pass at my resume#And use a working block at work to figure out what I want (and sketch out my teams pain points and potential solutions)
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lonely-night · 9 months
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most of the time i wish i wasn't labeled as the "gifted kid" since i was a kid... maybe i wouldn't need to try so hard to prove myself
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ashwhowrites · 23 days
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Requesting for cliche story fuck boy eddie simping over a nerdy girl. Maybe angst in the middle?
Ugh one of my favorite dynamics to write. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️no actual smut but talks of it
She's different
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Eddie spent years being made fun of and being insecure. In ways, it helped him build a tough shell and made him stronger. But it also made him void of any feelings. He turned cold-hearted and didn't let anyone get close enough to him to hurt him.
He was still a teenager, and he had his own needs. And when his hair grew out and he dressed in chains and leather, more girls were at his feet than he had ever seen. Most girls were from the hideout, groupies that lived to watch him on stage. They threw themselves at him for a chance to get backstage and be under his touch.
Being in a band was the happiest thing that happened to him and he loved the easy access of girls to choose from. School was hell, but the second he was on stage, he was what all the girls wanted. And no one would take that feeling away from him.
~~~
Eddie was half asleep as he sat in class. His hand on his palm as he felt his eyes grow heavier. He had a late night with a girl's name he didn't remember. He moaned in discomfort as he felt her marks still stinging on his back.
"Hi," a soft voice spoke in front of him. He snapped open his eyes to see a girl in front of him. She had glasses, and her hair was down. She wore a little sweater and a skinny pair of jeans.
"Can I help you?" Eddie yawned
"Um..." She said as she looked around the classroom. Everyone is moving to sit with their partners. "We are partners. Were you listening?" She asked with a little giggle.
Eddie couldn't help but smile as the sound left her lips. He had to admit, for a quiet nerd, she was adorable.
"I was not, but take a seat," he said with a smile. He used his foot to push out the chair next to him. She moved delicately as she put down her books and sat next to him. He smelled her perfume and examined her even closer. She had these big curious eyes, a soft nose, and incredibly pink lips, and her skin looked soft.
"Well..." She began to explain everything he missed. He tried to listen, but he couldn't stop watching as her lips moved to form the words. He nodded along as she continued to talk.
She turned her head to look at him, she felt her face burn as he stared at her with a small smile on his face.
She coughed and removed her eyes from his. "So! Let's start."
~~~
By the third day of working together, Eddie loved saying her name. He loved how sweet it sounded as it left his tongue.
He was shocked to find himself so lost in her. Not that being a nerd was bad, he used to be one. But he never thought of himself being attractive while being a nerd. But God, did she do it well.
He was captivated by how smart she was. Way too smart to be in his class. She was mature and he could tell by the way she spoke with a high vocabulary. She didn't make him feel dumb, which was different. She was sweet and took the time to explain anything he didn't understand.
He was smitten.
~~~
Five days into working together he wanted more. He wanted to see her outside of school, outside of her shell. He wanted to see how she looked in the outside world and how her personality might change. He wondered if she had another side of her. A side that didn't stress about grades and let loose.
"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, not realizing he cut her off as she explained another part of the project. He was too lost in his head as he thought about her.
She closed her mouth and gave her answer a thought.
"Well, it's Friday so nothing." She laughed, "Why do you ask? Are you worried we won't finish? Because we have five minutes and just one last paragraph." She explained as she pushed up her glasses.
"Nah, respectfully, I could care less about this project," he chuckled, "I want to hang out, just the two of us and not focus on the project."
She froze as she looked over at him. His eyes sparkled and the sun shined perfectly on his face.
"Why would you want that?" She nervously asked. She couldn't form a single idea why he would want to hang out with her. She wasn't anywhere near his usual crowd of friends.
"Because I want to get to know you. I was thinking about a date?" He offered. He felt a little nervous and didn't understand why. Asking out girls was something he could do in his sleep, but she had his stomach fluttering and his hands sweaty.
He felt more nervous as he waited for her answer.
"Why not," she smiled. She clicked her pen and grabbed his hand. He flinched a little as the pen tickled his hand as she wrote down her phone number.
"Call me," she smiled as she picked up her stuff. A second later the bell rang and she was gone in a flash.
Eddie bit back his smile as he looked down at his hand. Her number and a little heart written next to it. He jumped out of his seat, a bounce in his step as he walked out.
~
Eddie didn't realize he was causing much of a commotion until Wayne walked into his disaster room.
"Edward, what in the hell are you doing?" Wayne asked as he took in the sight of Eddie's room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and shoes were missing their pairs.
"I'm trying to find a nice shirt but everything is a band!" Eddie cussed to himself.
Wayne couldn't help the smile that went across his face, "And why do you all of a sudden need a nice shirt?" He was young once, and he knew exactly why his nephew was stressed.
"Don't look at me like that," Eddie groaned as he yanked off his shirt and added it to the no pile.
"What's her name?" Wayne asked, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.
"Y/N," Eddie sighed, "I asked her out and I have nothing to wear!"
"Looks to me like you have a lot of options," Wayne laughed, "But what if we go get a nice shirt? I'll take you."
Eddie looked at his watch, he had a good few hours before he needed to leave.
"Fine but we don't speak of it," Eddie said as he pointed at Wayne.
Eddie's leg shook in the car as they pulled up to the small strip mall.
"How come you are this nervous?" Wayne asked as he got out of the car. "We share a wall so I know you aren't shy with many girls."
Eddie blushed in embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology.
"She's different, I guess." Eddie shrugged, he walked behind Wayne as they walked into the shop.
~
Eddie stood in front of the mirror as he sprayed on cologne. He used water to pat down his hair, and he ran his hands over his new button-up.
He was nervous but he was excited.
Wayne wished him luck as he walked out the door. Eddie got in his van and headed to the address she gave over the phone. His heart raced when he talked to her for a few seconds. He was not sure what he was going to do when he was with her all night.
Before he knew it he was outside her door and knocking.
"Hi, Eddie," she smiled as she opened the door. "You look very handsome." She was surprised to see him in something else other than a band shirt and ripped jeans.
"Oh, thank you," he smiled, "you look wonderful." His eyes skimmed up and down her body. She wore a simple and casual dress. It was white with little sunflowers. It matched her personality. She wore her glasses and light makeup.
"Thank you," she smiled.
Eddie gestured for her to walk in front of him, they walked to his van and got inside. She listened to his music as he drove to the location of their date. She was nervous. She had never been on a date before and definitely not with a guy like Eddie.
"I hope you like water," Eddie said, Y/N looked out the windshield and saw that there was a little pond. He got out of the van and opened her door. She thanked him as she got out. She waited as he grabbed a basket from his backseat.
He led them down a little hill, his hand holding hers as she wobbled.
Once they made it to the flat ground, he let go of her hand. He reached into the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it on the ground and offered her to sit first.
She smiled as she sat down, smoothing down her dress to cover her thighs. Eddie sat next to her and took out a few snacks from the basket.
Within an hour they were talking like they knew each other for years. Eddie was learning so much about her and it made him like her even more. She had an amazing personality and she was funny. She made Eddie laugh so hard that water came out of his nose. Which made her laugh so hard she had to hold her stomach.
She didn't think she had ever been so happy to be with someone.
And for once, Eddie loved getting to know someone.
As another hour passed, Eddie's urgers got the best of him. She was telling a story and he was lost in her eyes. The way the moon shined down on her and the sound of the water, it couldn't get more romantic in his eyes.
Eddie didn't notice he was leaning in until she froze. He looked down at her lips as he closed the space between them. He softly kissed her lips, and his hands reached forward to wrap around her waist.
She was nervous but she kissed him back. Her hands shook as she moved her arms around his neck. She was new to this and she wasn't sure how to kiss him back. But as he kissed her harder, she got the hang of it.
The kiss got heated as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she shivered and was surprised to hear a moan slip from her throat.
Eddie took the moan as a green light to move forward. His hands moved down to her thighs and began to slip under her dress.
Her lips stopped and she yanked back. Her hands stopped his hands from moving even further.
"Don't be nervous," he whispered, he went to attach his lips to hers again but she turned her head.
"I'm not, It's our first date, Eddie. I don't want to rush anything." She explained honestly.
"It's not rushing. I do this on all my first dates." Eddie shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.
Y/N felt a blow hit her chest. All of his dates? How many has he been on? How many had he brought to this exact spot?
"You're a pig," she scoffed as she shoved him off of her. She stood up.
"Woah, what's going on?" He asked as he stood up. He wasn't aware his fuck boy ways were sneaking out of him.
"Absolutely nothing anymore," she glared, "take me home." She marched to his van without a glance back.
~
The car ride was silent. She didn't speak a word, just stared out the window.
She should have known better.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he pulled up to her house.
"I'll see you Monday." She spat as she got out and slammed his door.
"Y/N!" he yelled after her as he got out. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.
"What did I do?" he asked genuinely.
"I do this on all my dates," she mocked, her voice deep as she repeated his words. "I should have known it was all an act."
The realization smacked him in the face.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push like that." His eyes were soft as he apologized. "None of it is an act! I really like you and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to something different, you know?"
"Maybe you need to figure out everything you feel, and maybe we can talk when you are ready to face those feelings." She smiled sadly and pecked his cheek. He watched as she walked inside.
~~~
The next night Eddie was all over the place. He performed and ran straight to the bar. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He had one shot and he blew it. He showed just how washed up he was. He slammed down his shot and called for another.
"Hard night?" A random girl asked as she sat next to him. He turned his head to take in the blonde.
"Yep," he said, slamming down his second shot.
"Let me make you feel better," she whispered into his ear.
~
Eddie sat in the back of his van with the random girl on his lap. Her lips were on his neck, but everything felt wrong.
He wasn't enjoying it, and it wasn't making him forget about her. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was her sweet smile as they laughed by the water.
He stopped the girl's hands as they went for his belt.
"I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, he didn't look at her as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.
"Are you serious? Since when?" the girl scoffed
"Have you ever really liked someone? Not like being in love, but in that area where you can see yourself falling in love with them?" He asked, the girl sighed and slipped on her shirt.
"Yeah. Chances are if you can already see yourself falling in love, it'll happen. You stuck in that spot?" She asked
"You know my reputation around here. I fuck and move on. She's different. I asked her out and we had an amazing date, then I fucked it up." He sighed, "Not sure how to fix it."
"Admitting it to yourself is the first step,"
"And the next?" he asked
"You admit it to her."
~~~
Monday morning arrived and Eddie was ready to win her back.
Since the project was finished, she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But that was not going to stop him.
He wrote a little note this morning, asking to meet outside during lunch. He walked in and saw her already sitting at her spot. He took a deep breath and handed the note to her.
She looked up at him but didn't say a word.
Eddie walked back to his desk. All throughout class he kept looking back at her.
~
Eddie waited outside and checked his watch. Lunch started ten minutes ago and she wasn't there. He was nervous he might have messed up too much and that she didn't care to fix it. She probably realized he wasn't worth the hassle or the emotions he caused.
He crunched the flowers in his grip as he looked over his shoulder.
"Hi,"
He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He turned around and smiled as she walked closer.
He was nervous as he handed her the flowers, "these are for you."
"Thanks," she said quietly as she took the flowers from his hands.
"I'm really sorry for acting like a dick. You were right, I needed to figure out everything I felt. I went to the bar and I met someone."
Y/N ignored the pain she felt as she listened.
"My plan was to do what I always did. Sleep with someone until I forgot why I was there in the first place. But I stopped it because it felt wrong. I hated myself for being with her. I kept thinking of you." He stepped closer as he held her hand.
"I was doing the wrong thing and with the wrong person. And it made me realize, that I really like you. And I want my main focus to be just on you. I want you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would love to have the chance to take you out again. I've never actually been on a date, that was my first real one. I know I fucked up the beautiful night we had, but I really think I can make you feel special."
"I guess there's no harm in giving it a shot." She smiled
Eddie jumped to his feet with excitement.
"Thank you!" he crushed her in a hug as she laughed.
~~~
They had been dating for a month and Eddie was true to his word. She felt more special than ever and it was all because of him.
She felt a little nervous as they walked into the hideout. He was honest about his past here and the reputation he had. But she wanted to be a supportive girlfriend and watch him perform. She had to try to forget about all the girls there and just focus on her man.
"The second I'm done, I will be coming straight to you," he smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She was in a territory where Eddie was never taken, and she wanted to prove herself.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She wasn't shy as she snuck her tongue in his mouth. Her body rocked against his as his hands landed on her ass.
He felt his head spin as she pulled away. His eyes slowly opened as he caught his breath
"What was that?" he asked, his eyes dark as he drank her in
"Good luck kiss," she said with a shrug and smirk
"I'm going to need luck hiding the front of my pants," he teased as he adjusted his tight jeans.
"I'll help you faster," she whispered in his ear. She enjoyed the way he shuddered.
He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the back.
~
She understood why so many girls adored her boyfriend. The way he performed was incredible. It was hard to look anywhere else.
She waited at a table in the back as he wrapped up. His sweaty body came walking towards her but a girl stepped in.
Y/N couldn't hear the conversation but she could tell the girl was flirting by the way she ran her hand up Eddie's arm.
Then another girl came after that one left. And then other.
Y/N felt sick as she watched countless girls walk up and flirt with him. It was a painful reminder of what Eddie's past was.
She was quick to run outside, needed fresh air and to be away from the scene she was stuck watching over and over.
Eddie was quick to push everyone aside and follow her out.
"Hey baby," he said softly, she was leaning against the wall.
"You were amazing!" she praised as she pulled him into a hug. Eddie hugged her back and thanked her. He pulled back but kept his arms around her.
"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Eddie asked
Y/N sighed and looked down at her feet
"I was just a little jealous."
"Why? You are my girlfriend, they've got nothing on you." Eddie explained
Y/N scoffed and unhooked her arms from him.
"They have all had sex with you, Eddie! They've got plenty on me. I mean, I am nothing like those girls."
"Exactly!" Eddie said as he placed his hands on her face. "I don't want you to be anything like them. I want you because you are you. Yes, I've been physical with them, but that is all. There is no connection or emotional ties. It's different with you because I really see myself falling in love with you."
"Really?" she smiled as she looked up at him.
"Of course." He said as he crashed his lips on hers. She moaned as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair.
After a few seconds, she pulled away. Smirking as he chased her lips. She had him right around her finger.
"You know..." she started, her hands slipped down his body and rested on top of his jeans. "Maybe I'll eliminate the one thing they have on me." Her smirk made Eddie shiver in excitement.
"As in sex?" Eddie choked out. His eyes lit up like Christmas as he practically bounced with anticipation.
"Van, now." She said as she turned around and walked towards his fan.
He watched her walk away with a dopey smile on his face.
"YOU COMING?" she yelled as she turned. She walked backward and kept her eyes on him. She laughed as he seemed to snap out of his daydream. He fished out his keys and dropped them on the floor.
"SHIT, I'M COMING!" he screamed as he bent down and grabbed his keys.
She giggled as he ran straight to the van.
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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months
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baby, it's cold outside | joel miller
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Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.
Word Count | 4.2k
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!
Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!
12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!
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Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.
When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.
Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.
Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.
You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.
You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.
He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.
And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.
But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.
The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.
The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.
This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.
“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”
And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.
You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.
“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”
You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”
Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.
You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.
You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”
It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”
“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”
“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”
“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”
You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.
“Then what is it?”
“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”
He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.
“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”
“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”
It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”
“You’re the one who said it first.”
“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”
“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”
It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.
“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”
And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.
Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.
Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.
He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.
“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”
“Prove it.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”
Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.
You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.
How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.
This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”
Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.
Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.
“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”
That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.
Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.
Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”
His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.
Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.
You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.
“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.
“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.
He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.
Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”
“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”
He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.
He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.
When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.
His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.
When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
[part two]
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
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Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
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charliemwrites · 6 months
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Part 2 of charmed serial killer Simon. (Part 1 is here.)
This part is heavily inspired by this particular Badjhur audio “Surviving the Slasher” from, like, a long time ago. Where he’s a killer. Easier to find than expected, thank you masterlist. It permanently has a room in my pea brain, no rent, utilities included.
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You’re out with your little friends again. Simon scoffs to even call them that. You give them so much more than they even try to give you - support, encouragement, time, energy.
One of them has a shitty deadbeat boyfriend that’s throwing a flat party, so they’ve dragged you along per usual. You’re still swearing off alcohol after the last time you went out - when you got a ride home with him. So you’re totally sober when the rest of the idiots suggest “investigating” the abandoned hospital on the other end of the block.
You go with them as the only fully-sober one, but spend the whole, stumbling trip trying to convince them to go somewhere, anywhere, else.
Apparently the boyfriend fancies himself something of an urban explorer because he knows just how to get in, bragging that he’s going to start some stupid internet show looking for ghosts there. You end up getting knocked into a half dozen times just trying to keep your woozy friends from getting tetanus.
It doesn’t take long at all for someone to suggest hide and seek. You try adamantly to put your cute little foot down - reminding them that it’s dirty and structurally unstable and there could be people just trying to camp out in peace in here. You’re adamantly ignored and your friends scatter.
And Simon starts to hunt.
Oh, he wishes he could have seen your face when the screams first started. If you recognized the shriek of Addy, the one who yanked you away from a proper apology when you first bumped into him at the bar. Wonders if you felt anything when Simon stabbed her boyfriend in the stomach and sent him stumbling away to incite more terror.
Of course you did. His pretty little chatterbox, coming to the rescue as soon as you heard their cries.
You get yourself lost trying to find someone, anyone. He picks off your group one. By. One. He finds you trying to triage a nasty slice to Heather’s thigh. She was talking shit about you just two days ago to Addy.
And oh, how brave you are, trying to stick with her to the very end. All it takes is one well-placed throw and you’re scrambling back as Heather burbles blood.
He takes a single, loud step towards you - and you bolt. Such a smart thing, you don’t even glance back to see if he’s following. He’s not; there’s still trash to take care of.
You find one more friend - one he doesn’t mind so much, mostly because you just met tonight. She’s crying, making a fuss and you’re trying to soothe her while still focused on escape, letting her cling to your arm.
Simon starts herding you both towards an easy exit. A few well placed foot falls here, a jaunty whistle there. He loves watching your big eyes dart toward the noises, how you get low like a bunny hiding in brush. Always put yourself between your new friend and wherever you think he could come from.
Your friends’ blood is beginning to dry when he decides it’s time to wrap things up.
He appears in a doorway, and you shove at your fellow survivor, make her squeeze through the rusty door first. You’re just starting to follow when he snags you around the middle. You yelp, feet kicking at air, tugging at his soaked hoodie sleeve.
He shoves your back against a wall and presses close, the flat of his knife against your pretty cheek.
“What did we learn tonight, hm?” he mocks.
You’re flinching away, but know better than to struggle or scream. So clever.
“W-why are you doing this?” you ask.
How sweet, that you can’t understand the motivations of monsters like him. He indulges you.
“To teach you a lesson,” he answers. “Get better friends.”
You look furious, even as tears well in your eyes. He coos over them, tugs the bottom of his mask up enough to lick them as they fall down your cheek.
“S-Stop, that’s - that’s so gross,” you hiccup, pancaking yourself to the wall.
He snorts in amusement and tugs his mask down again.
“Now, I know you’re a good girl with good manners, so let’s see them.”
You blink at him, eyes soooo big. Don’t understand what he means.
He tuts. “Say: thank you, ghost, for teaching me a valuable lesson.”
You press your lips together in a tight, pouty line. He wants to bite them. Instead, taps the point of the knife against your jaw. A silent threat that’s he’s still debating if he means.
But you manage to get the sentence out, stuttering, voice breaking halfway through. Mm, he’s missed hearing your gratitude. It’s almost sweeter this way than all the times you said it in his car.
“You’re very welcome, sunshine. Now, off you go, before I decide to teach you something else.”
You don’t hesitate when he steps back. Peel yourself off the wall and wriggle out to freedom.
Simon chuckles. What a fun little playdate, he’s so glad he let you go that first time. He’ll have to arrange another one soon.
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loveemagicpeace · 7 months
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🪐Saturn in Signs🪐
⭐️Saturn in Aries- in your early childhood, it can be more difficult for you to express yourself and your energy. Maybe it's hard for you to show that you're angry or you're getting better so that people won't accept it. You can be afraid of many things. You may be afraid of speed or of heights. Your talents are not noticed that much. Later in life you become fearless and you have a lot of courage. You do a lot of things that people will never thought that you will actually do. You become imune about what other people think of you. You can express yourself in a very nice and easy way. So you can be afraid of things that include needles so that means piercings and tattos can be scary for you. But later in life you start to love it. You can change your appearance a lot. Saturn asks you to stand confident in your own skin. You take charge of your destiny, and this helps you win your own respect.
🌙Saturn in Taurus- in your early childhood you may be afraid of expressing your true value to others. Losing money or not having enough can also be your fear. Maybe you've never found true pleasure or you've never been able to enjoy the things you love or luxuries enough. You may have felt less worthy or not noticed enough. Later in life you find a way to enjoy money and the things you love. You find your true value. You set a lot of boundaries for yourself. Also such people tend to be thrifty, and spend only on what they actually need. You can have a lot of patience in life.
⚡️Saturn in Gemini-in your early childhood you feel like you'll never been seen or heard enough. Maybe you're communication was not that good and people misunderstood you or treat you like you are not smart enough. Maybe you had some kind of issue with neighborhood or siblings or relatives or this kind of things. However, these natives are also prone to bouts of sudden sadness and even depression because overthinking comes in, along with pointless worrying, and an exaggeration of the uncertainty in their lives .Later in life you find a way to communicate with others in a completely different way. People can find you as a person who has a good mindset.
🌸Saturn in Cancer- in your early childhood you may felt like your family was not around much or your mother or not that much you will want her to be. Maybe you felt like black sheep in your family or that you are not seen enough. You felt you didn't get enough emotional care. You have a strong fondness for children and friends but you do not like to show your love and emotions to them. Later you find people around whom you feel more noticed and you find your comfort zone where you feel safe.
🐚Saturn in Leo- in your early childhood you felt unseen. You felt that people don't notice your talents. You were afraid that you would never be seen enough and that you would never find passion. It could also be that you didn't have a special hobby or that it was difficult for you to find it. Later in life you find your joys and something you really enjoy. You also become seen for who you are. You can best live your dreams by taking calculated risks and developing your considerable talents.
🧸Saturn in Virgo-In your early childhood, you may have been very concerned about what others thought of you and how you would look. You took criticism very poorly and it could have hurt you many times. Maybe you listen too much to the advice of others instead of listening to yourself in general. Later this changes and you start to listen to yourself more. Your challenge is not to leave your whole self, including the body, behind, as you go about your day. The more you believe in yourself and do calm things, the better you will feel.
👄Saturn in Libra- in early childhood you may have felt that you were not worthy of love or that you would never be good enough for someone. It is also possible that you had the feeling that no one will love you as much as you would like. It could also be that you didn't love yourself. In the long run, this can also result in you looking for someone who will really suit you for a long time. But it becomes easier because you start to believe more in love and that you deserve to be loved.
🦂Saturn in Scorpio- in early childhood you may have felt as if only bad or dark things are happening to you. You felt like you had no control and no power. You felt like everything was taking away your power. This can sometimes result in you having problems letting others be in control. You may have felt like people don't see you for who you really are. This is an intense, deep experience that challenges you to dig into your soul for purpose and meaning. Means this placement will change the way you will experience life. You’re an intense seeker of wisdom and meaning.
🎆Saturn in Sagittarius- in your early childhood you felt like you didn't have to find happiness in anything. Maybe you had trouble finding the meaning of life, the path and optimism. It can make you feel like you're never truly happy or finding the happiness you're looking for. Your gift is that you are willing to share whatever knowledge you have with those around you. Later in life you find happiness in many things and shine more than others.
🌁Saturn in Capricorn- in your early childhood you felt like your parents weren't with you as much or your father wasn't there for you. When born under this influence, you tend to take your responsibilities seriously and value the importance of planning. You probably had a lot of chores and grown-up things as a child that others didn't. You learned many things before others. You probably feel the heaviness of life, as if you are carrying the world on your shoulders. But later in life you really shine and you achieve a lot of goals and you have a very good career. You get recognition.
🪼Saturn in Aquarius- in your early childhood you felt like as if you were not accepted into society or friend groups. You may felt like outsider. Maybe a lot of people didn't like you because you were too smart. You know how to find the people in this world you can make the most change with. As a natural leader, others will often lean heavily on you with your Saturn in Aquarius. You’ll create an even stronger foundation that both you and your world can depend on.
🪷Saturn in Pisces- in your early childhood you felt like as if people don't know you, don't see you, as if you're not so much in the foreground, that your talents and the things you do aren't noticed as much. Many times people may have accused you of things you did not do. You may have been wronged many times. U were always in your own world. Reality was too much for you. You may take on the pains or joys of others as their experiences interplay with your own. Later in life you find your own way and deal with your subconscious which becomes very strong.
-Rebekah⭐️🐚💕
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heartlilith · 7 months
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The Rising Signs
Aries Rising
❤️Probably has something that makes them stand out whether that be tattoos, scars, or a birth mark
❤️Masculine features - defined jawline, thick eyebrows, muscular body, intense eyes
❤️Always looks like they’re on their way to bitch someone out hahaha
❤️High energy placement - walks quickly and with purpose, hates slow people and slow drivers (probably drives fast too)
❤️Don’t mess with people they care about because they will bitch you tf out on the spot
Taurus Rising
🌿Chill reserved stoner vibes
🌿Not a morning person whatsoever
🌿Likes the finer things in life; you’ll see them in nice clothes and even if their clothes aren’t expensive they look like it because they take care of their stuff
🌿Loves going out to eat
🌿Probably has a mother who cooks some bomb ass food 
Gemini Rising
✨Ive noticed a lot of Gemini risings have blonde hair and usually on the taller side
✨Smarter than you or at least they think they are
✨They are smart though and know the most random facts ever … but interesting none the less
✨Loves music and has a diverse taste
✨People like them because they’re easy to talk to and they’re very interesting; they have cool hobbies/skills and they tell funny/memorable stories
Cancer Rising
🦀 Looks like 🌚 and also they really resemble dolls
🦀 Females can act bitchy or defensive when first meeting them because they’re really sensitive but don’t want you to know cause they think it’s a weakness
🦀Same with males but probably worse - feels like they have to take on more Martian traits because they feel like being sensitive is shameful
🦀They have the cheeks that grandmas always pinching
🦀They also have a resting bitch face just like Capricorn rising but unlike their sister sign they wear their emotions, you can always tell if they’re pissed off
Leo Rising
☀️Beautiful hair but we already know that - they also have full lips and literally resemble the sun - happy, good vibes, and just a beam of fucking sunshine
☀️Want to do everything fun they make great friends
☀️High self esteem and even if they don’t, you wouldn’t know because they naturally come off as confident
☀️Kids love them
☀️Very comfortable in their skin especially as they get older
Virgo Rising
🥑 They look really “clean” if you know what I mean - like they always look neat and simple in a good way
🥑Beautiful skin and symmetrical faces
🥑I’ve noticed these people can get along and talk with anyone about anything thanks to their mutable energy
🥑Likes to match everything - clothes and accessories, nails with outfits, etc
🥑Can look younger than they really are
Libra Rising
💕Super sociable, polite, and kind
💕Probably popular in highschool or at least in their friend group
💕Can be fake nice to someone and talk about them behind their backs later
💕Aesthetically pleasing instagram
💕Great at doing makeup
Scorpio Rising
🦂Dark just dark - their eyes look dark even if they’re light colored, dark auras, tattoos, literally looks like a fucking shadow ok
🦂Doesn’t realize they death glare people they hate
🦂I love these people tbh they’re so intriguing and beautiful in a mysterious way
🦂DEFINITELY attracts obsessive people and friends
🦂Probably feels like they’ve been 20 different people in their lifetime - always transforming their image and looks
Sagittarius Rising
🗿Ok legssss 👏 fr tho they have stallion legs
🗿Also likes the finer things in life and will probably get them because they’re lucky in life and blessed
🗿Really funny placement and someone you want to have around all the time to do fun shit with
🗿Carefree for the most part but they have certain triggers that they’ll cause a fit over
🗿Usually hates commitment (depending on other aspects and planets) because they don’t want to be tied down or have a loss of freedom
Capricorn Rising
🪵 Resting bitch face - their face literally screams “please don’t talk to me”
🪵Likes neutral colors for clothes and such
🪵Wise asf and literally downloads information from the gods or maybe they’ve lived 100 lives who knows but they definitely know
🪵Will not be falling for your bullshit or buying any dream you sell
🪵Strives to be self sufficient and independent - oh and also NO SCRUBS (shoutout TLC)
Aquarius Rising
💨Kinda look like aliens but in a hot sexy way
💨Can get along with anyone they talk to like Virgo Rising
💨Rebellious and a trendsetter who can attract a lot of copy cats
💨These people actually knew the song before it was famous
💨Has a lot of friends that are all different personalities - they could have one nerdy smart friend and another friend that’s the captain of the football team (this is cliche but yk what I mean)
Pisces Rising
🐟Looks like a mermaid
🐟Beautiful people and angelic looking but they can’t see that so when people compliment them or stare they don’t really get it
🐟Looks different in every photo they’re in
🐟Another placement that attracts creeps and stalkers
🐟Picks up everyone’s energies around them which is why it’s important for them to be around good people
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aquariusmind0122 · 1 month
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1Am Astrology Observations!!!
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These are my observations of some zodiac placements, some may apply and some wont. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)
I know Gemini and Aquarius are good matches, but when these two are on each other's bad side, it's like a battle of who can cut who the deepest with words. Things can go one or two ways. Both signs communicate it out or argue it out. The arguments can become heated really fast due to both air signs being so direct yet cut throat with their intelligent comebacks.
I've noticed a lot of Sagittarius suns/ moon/ risings in open or poly relationships.
8th house synastry is very interesting to me along with 12th house synastry. It's always a game of "will this be a lover or a enemy, or both?!"
I don't like how Taurus placements get called "lazy", they are not lazy they just choose to take their time. Change isn't easy for Taurus placements, it can even cause some to have anxiety. Taurus placements get things done on their own time.
The pisces and libra duo just makes so much sense, Libra being exalted in pisces. These two signs are always bumping into each other, platonic or romantic.
Virgos either love Aquarius or hate them, there's no in between.
Aquarius mercury people are genuinely so smart and funny, they are intellectual yet so unserious??
I don't know one pisces who hasn't been in some odd love triangle.
Capricorn and Aquarius risings can be just as intense as scorpio risings, Saturn ruled people have this bold/ mysterious look to them.
I've noticed many scorpios and sagittariuses are attracted to Aquarius or vice versa.
Libra placements can be such good siblings, they care so deeply for their families.
4th house synastry can be very beautiful, the person you share this synastry with could remind you of home in some way.
Aquarius/ sagittarius/ leo are trendsetters, I've seen these placements get their ideas stolen or copied first hand.
If a Gemini chooses not to speak to you it's probably because you bore them.
If someone's moon is in your 6th house it means that person will care so much about your well being. It may feel smothering at times but it's truly because they care.
I've seen leo and virgo in relationships a lot, it's not really healthy but both seem to gravitate towards each other.
Sagittarius suns need hugs. A sagittarius will light up a room and then go home to their darkness. They hide their vulnerability almost as well as an aquarius. Sagittarius are sidereal scorpios so it makes sense why they would be so secretive of their hard times.
Sagittarius and Aquarius are so similar, people don't talk about it enough!!
Cancer placements can be thee most caring people on earth; but as soon as they shut the world out to focus on their well being they get attacked.
12th house hidden enemies is so so true!! I have a 12th house scorpio and scorpio suns just hate me for some reason. Even when I'm kind to them they become bitter?!?. Nevertheless I'm obsessed with scorpios lmao.
Thank you for reading my zodiac yap session♡♡
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luveline · 6 months
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Oh oh oh Hotch walking in on a sweet little moment between Jack and reader and he just MELTS when he realises how much he loves them both??💗💗 (pls, only if it inspires you lovely!!)
ty for your request! fem, 1k
“Well, I liked it. I thought it was cool.” 
Hotch puts his keys in the bowl. “It is cool,” Jack says. It's good to hear his voice after so long away. Jack's not often talkative. “It is.” 
“Thank you, Jack.” There's a gap where Hotch can't see anything, peering around the door to the kitchen. He's too far away. “You're such a nice boy. You know that?” you ask. 
You and Jack are talking in the unhurried tones of people close to one another. Hotch has to strain to hear it clearly. “You think so?” 
“I do. You're really, always nice to me. You're brave and smart, Jack, but what I love about you the most is how nice you are. How kind.” 
“Thank you.” 
“You're welcome.” Hotch can see the look on your face in his mind, the softening of your eyes and the small smile. “Do you think you're nice?” 
“Yes!” A small giggle echoes off of the kitchen tiles. “I'm nice. But I want to be brave more.” 
“Yeah? It's a really great thing to be so nice. To be patient with people, and to be forgiving, that's its own kind of bravery, because it can be hard.” 
“It's easy.” 
“I'm glad you think so.” Hotch walks further down the hall and finally spots you. You're sitting on the kitchen floor together with one of Jack's long paper rolls spooled from the door to the cabinets. Jack lays on his stomach with a red marker in his hand, staring at you with wide eyes as you draw. Hotch can't see your face, but he hears your smile. “I love you, Jack.” 
“I love you too… thanks for drawing with me.” 
“I love drawing with you. Maybe I should say thanks to you for doing all the best ones.” 
Jack laughs with the shaken-soda quality only little kids can reach. It immediately gets you laughing, and that combined makes Hotch chuckle. Your heads turn together quickly, Jack's with excitement and yours surprise. “Hi, daddy!” 
“Hi, buddy.”
“You're home early?” Jack asks. 
Hotch steps carefully over the mess of pending and paper, sitting cross-legged at Jack's side. Jack smiles and tips into Hotch's lap without getting up, a flop of limbs into starched pants. Hotch hugs him in similar limbless fashion. 
“Home for two days, at least.” He presses his lips to Jack's ear, speaking softly. “So I hope you saved some room for me on that paper.” 
“I did! Do you want your pyjamas? We've been wearing our pyjamas all day. We had pizza for breakfast.” 
“Jack!” You cover your face. “Jack, that was our secret, oh,” —you part your fingers— “Aaron, I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't lie to you, and I know I shouldn't give him junk but he was asking so nicely and I really didn't wanna make oatmeal.” 
Jack runs away with another bout of giggles, knowing he's entrapped you. 
“You know I don't care,” Hotch says, giving you an easy smile. 
“Yeah, but… I'm supposed to be a good role model,” you say, offering a small smile in return. It half knocks the air from his lungs. 
He reaches across the drawing chaos to touch your face with his thumb. Your cheek is soft. The little wrinkle by your mouth deepens with your smiling, and the incremental weight of your head tilting into his hand is a feeling he can't get enough of. 
“I heard you talking,” he says. 
“What were we saying?” 
“About how he's kind.” He cups your cheek. “I missed you both so much. It's… amazing to be home.”
He knows you like this more than kissing, sometimes. It isn't hard to hold you like you mean everything to him, to caress your skin with a gentle fingertip, drawing a line along the curve of your neck. Your pupils grow to black dimes, and your breathing slows. 
“I missed you too, Agent. We missed you, we've been trying to think of new games to keep busy. See, we're drawing us in different jobs.” 
He's going to look just as soon as he gets enough of you, his thumb pressing circles into your skin.
“Did you frown a lot while you were away?” you ask in a whisper. 
“Can you tell?” 
“A little bit,” you say, still whispering as you lift your hand. You rub the line between his brows. “Should I kiss it away?” 
Jack runs back in with Hotch's pyjamas in his arms, a grey shirt and dark blue pants. “Kiss what?” 
“My wrinkles,” Hotch says. 
“His frowny face.” 
Jack wraps his arms over Hotch's shoulders, almost choking him with the pyjamas. “I'll do it! I will.” 
“Alright, buddy. Fix me up, okay? I can only smile for the next couple of days.” 
Hotch gets a face full of kisses and a great long hug to round it out, Jack in his lap. You're sketching something as they hug but he can't see what until Jack settles, and when he does, he laughs so hard he almost knocks Jack back out of his lap. 
Jack Hotchner, professional frown remover, you've captioned. Jack stands tall and smiling with a love heart on his shirt, his felt marker outlines sewn with care. Aaron Hotchner stands next to him, professional frowner. 
Hotch immediately pesters Jack into giving him the right pens for his own turn. He doesn't caption it, unsure what job he'd label either of you with, but it's clear what he's getting at with speech bubbles full of smiley faces. 
He thinks he might remember your conversation forever without it, but the drawing serves as a nice memento. He only wishes he were a better artist. 
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night-raven-tattler · 6 months
Text
What's your ideal type?
Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?
Characters: Octavinelle dorm (Azul, Jade, Floyd) × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)
Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia
Warnings: none
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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Azul's ideal type would be...
Someone witty. Azul is a smart guy who likes being entertained. While his way of achieving that is less... for lack of better words, aggressive than the tweels', he enjoys a good mental game. If you can carry a good conversation with him, he'll remember you.
Someone who doesn't pressure him into making decisions. He is someone whose independence is very important to him. On top of that, his signature spell literally revolves around choice as a concept, so he understand the importance of it. Someone as stubborn as Azul will keep his distance if anyone tries to influence his free will.
Someone who appreciates music. He's a pianist and a good singer, which are skills that require a lot of practice and hard work, something Azul is known for. He will appreciate any genuine praise, but if you ask him to teach you more about music or, Sevens forbid, you want to duet with him, all of his three hearts are yours.
Someone who doesn't mock him, not even when teasing him. If you really know Azul, you know how bitter he is towards the people who have brought suffering onto him. The words they said are ingrained into his brain, controlling his choices for years after they were spoken to him. I'm not saying to constantly uplift him, but bringing up old wounds will only push Azul away with low chances of getting any closer again.
『••✎••』
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Jade's ideal type would be...
Someone whose next move he can't accurately predict. It's kind of easy to catch the attention of any of the tweels, but it's also easy to lose it. The key to keeping Jade's eyes on you is to make him believe he's had you all figured out, then do something unexpected. Being a little unpredictable, even when you think you're outside of Jade's vision, will pique his curiosity.
Someone who plays along his little tricks and schemes. Jade is not an honest person: he always has some ulterior motive, hidden behind carefully worded questions and statements that he uses to poke and prod for information. If you try to help him and his twisted game of detective, he will certainly find you amusing, if not helpful.
Someone who goes exploring with him. Just like his brother, Jade has a fascination for the land above water, and he loves learning things about the fauna and flora. Someone who understands his appreciation for nature and genuinely embraces his curiosity will have a bit more of his appreciation.
Someone who doesn't try to understand him. Jade is very careful not to reveal too much about himself. Being awfully private with himself, he won't open up to just anyone. So he will appreciate someone who doesn't try to pry into his business too much. At the end of the day, Jade can be many things: a bartender, a vice housewarden, an informant, but he'd like to be seen as "just Jade" sometimes.
『••✎••』
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Floyd's ideal type would be...
Someone who isn't intimidated by him. It's a surefire way to catch his attention. Even if you just pretend to not be intimidated by him, he'll stick around and try to push all of your buttons, test your limits, squeeze all that he finds interesting out of you.
Someone willing to teach him more about land folks. Everyone knows that Floyd has quite the interest about land folks and their customs. He wants to know more, so don't be afraid to throw random land people things towards him every once in a while. If it's something he didn't know about, he'll tell you to prove it. Congrats, he won't leave your side for a couple of hours.
Someone who doesn't compare him to Jade. Since he's the more polite and responsible one, Floyd gets compared to his brother pretty often, and some people even assume he's the younger twin. It is exhausting to have his other half be given as example on how to behave time and time again. If you reassure him he doesn't have to be like his twin, that being Floyd is just fine, it'll pull at his heartstrings.
Someone who takes his mood swings in stride. From people thinking he is a threat to people who just find him annoying and hard to work with, no one really takes Floyd's mood swings seriously. That doesn't mean he'll open up if you asked him "are you okay" and "what happened". Still, it would be the first time someone outside of his family reacted like that to him. It will baffle him, in a good way.
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months
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Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.
Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.
Giving up your time for the greater good.
‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.
Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.
Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?
That was how evolution worked.
The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.
She didn’t regret leaving.
Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.
Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.
He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.
No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.
And absolutely, 100%, no magic.
(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.
Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)
See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.
Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.
Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods. 
One absolutely covered in snow.
Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.
These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.
The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.
Happy.
Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.
That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.
He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.
A baby reindeer distracted him.
It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.
Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.
He was right.
A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.
Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.
Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.
He dreamed of the snow.
The gentle way the woods felt.
It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.
Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.
So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.
That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.
Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.
What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.
The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.
Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.
It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.
Not until he heard the crying.
“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.
The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.
(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)
“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”
Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.
He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.
“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”
“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”
His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.
“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”
It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.
“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.
Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met. 
Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too. 
"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?" 
Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.
(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.) 
“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”
“You’re not bad.” Steve told him. 
He got a glare for it.
“How would you know?”
“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”
Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.
That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.
(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)
“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”
It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.
“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”
He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.
“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles. 
“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.
“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”
“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious. 
Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad. 
“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”
That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.
Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.
Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”
He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”
“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”
“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.
In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.
Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter. 
In retrospect, this was his downfall.
Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.
Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.
Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.
Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.
Remember Eddie.
Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.
The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.
He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.
Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.
“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.
Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.
It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.
Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.
“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.
Like Steve didn't know. 
“I just wanted to see the lights.”
“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”
Steve shook his head.
“No but I could feel them.”
Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.
“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”
This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.
Something his Uncle seemed to sense.
“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind.  Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”
Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.
“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back. 
Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.
(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.) 
“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.
“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.
“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.
He did though.
He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.
Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.
Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.
He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.
(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)
Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.
They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.
His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.
Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.
Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.
(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.
Steve never did.)
xXx
The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.
It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.
He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.
Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.
“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.
Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.
Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.
He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted. 
Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.
(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.
It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.
Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.
Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears. 
He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)
xXx
Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.
This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.
Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.
Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.
Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.
Laughed as the other guy sputtered.
“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.
“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.
His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.
Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.
“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.
Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.
Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.
Steve raised an eyebrow.
“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”
He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”
“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”
“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”
Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.
Those people, the people his parents liked?
They loved it.
“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.
Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.
“People do too.”
He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.
Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.
How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.
“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.
"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.
Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.
Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.
Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”
That made Steve pause.
Really look over the guy standing before him.
The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.
He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.
Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.
It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.
Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.
Abandoned.
“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”
At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.
"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”
“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”
He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.
“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.
“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.
Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.
xXx
Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.
Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved. 
She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.
Felt similar.
Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.
It was great.
Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.
Then Barb went missing.
Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.
Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.
(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.
How it made you act after.)
There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.
And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.
This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.
Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.
It was kind of a lot, really.
Particularly because his parents weren’t home.
(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.
The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.
Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)
Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.
Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.
Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.
(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.
God that asshole hit like a train.)
Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again. 
Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.
It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.
Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.
Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home. 
He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird. 
Steve ignored it.
He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.
(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.
Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.
How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.
It was probably just the head injury.)
Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.
It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.
Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--
Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.
“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.
“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”
“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.
Man, this snow was nice.
Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.
There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.
“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”
“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.
“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”
He gestured to his own ear again.
(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)
The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”
The North Pole.
The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.
“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.
“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.
“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.
He didn’t get an answer.
Which was okay, he thought.
He didn’t really need one.
He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…
“Steve!”
He blinked, and found he must have passed out.
“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.
The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.
Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.
“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.
“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”
He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.
Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.
“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”
“What?”
It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.
“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”
The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.
Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever. 
“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.
It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.
“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.
“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.
It felt nice.
“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.
Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.
“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”
He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.
“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”
Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.
“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”
That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.
“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."
“Yeah?”
“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”
Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.
That felt nice too.
“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”
“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.
(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?
Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.
Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)
Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.
“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.
“I can’t keep him awake!”
That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”
“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”
Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.
He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.
One last thing he needed to say.
“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”
The magic took him away.
xXx
It smelled like cinnamon.
Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.
Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.
It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.
His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.
The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.
It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.
Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.
As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.
“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”
Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.
“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.
“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”
So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.
“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing." 
Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.
Even if it hurt.
Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.
Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.
Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.
(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)
Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.
It was cute.
It made him look cute.
“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.
Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.
Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.
Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.
“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”
“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”
Which sounded about right, considering.
“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”
Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.
“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.
It made him grin. 
“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.
He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)
Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.
“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?
“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!
“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”
Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.
(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.
Steve figured he’d ask later.
After he had finished groveling.)
“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”
It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.
Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.
He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.
Hell he called Steve sweetheart.
And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.
You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.
Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”
Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”
“I'd like to still be friends.”
“Even if I'm gay?”
Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.
“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is." 
He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.
(Regretted that a little bit.) 
He got a mighty frown in response.
“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”
“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”
Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”
Pretended that he was normal.
Just like his parents wanted.
Then he’d met Nancy.
Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.
Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.
Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.
“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”
He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?
Might as well reveal his whole hand.
“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.
Continue.
“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”
Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.
“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”
It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.
Instead he felt lighter than air.
Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.
For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.
He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind. 
If anything, it just solidified it.
Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.
Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.
“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”
Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back. 
xXx
Bonus
“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.
“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”
“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”
“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.
That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.
‘Dustin is gonna freak.’
“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”
“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”
“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”
“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.
“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”
Steve gaped at her.
“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.
“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.
Because Robin was right.
The hole was gone--and his magic was back.
How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?
“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”
He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.
“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.
Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.
(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”
“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”
“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”
“Ew, ew, ew-!” )
This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!
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being-addie · 1 year
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Healthy habits I'm developing for 2023
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It's already April and I'm still in that rut of sleeping at 2am, buying a quick fix of candy at the store when I have fruit at home, eating too many carbs and skipping the gym. Now, I'm getting my shit together.
It's easy to disguise bad habits with excuses. "Oh, I have exams coming up". "Work's been really draining lately". But if you don't change now, you'll be stuck in that same loop for the rest of your life.
Prioritising health:
Sleeping 7-8 hours every night: To end my absolutely atrocious amount of screen time, I've decided to delete all those distracting apps on my phone. It's hard, but worth it. Now I won't be tempted to scroll on Instagram when I should be sleeping.
Making healthy food choices: Choosing homemade granola over chocolate bars, banana bread over Nutella sandwiches, and homemade nachos over packaged chips makes a huge difference.
Working out: l go to the gym daily, but lately, I've been lazy and slacking off. So I want to start going again along with squeezing in a run in the evening. Finishing at least 8k steps every day. Moving my body in some way, whether it's dance or yoga.
Water: I have a bad habit of forgetting to drink water, even when it's right in front of me. So I've downloaded some water reminders to help me remember to drink. I've also decided to incorporate lemon honey iced tea into my diet because I'm a fiend for it.
Working smart:
Creating a to-do list: Committing to knocking off at least three things on a to-do list and gradually increasing the number of tasks.
Keeping devices away: I've started keeping my phone in my mom's room while I work, or I lock it in my cupboard so I won't get distracted, and I use extensions like WasteNoTime and StayFocusd to block unnecessary websites.
Dividing time: Making a schedule for my day, so I can divide school studies, sketching practice and homework. It is so important to block out parts of the day for morning and night routines and self-care.
Cleansing my life:
A clean workspace: Clean up my desk every day, so I can sit in an uncluttered space, and keep my racing mind calm.
Making my bed: Focusing on making sure my bed is clean first thing in the morning, so I have a place that's clean and warm after a long day.
Deleting social media: It was difficult, but I did it. Fighting the temptation to log in again is real, but I'm slowly coming to realise I don't care what people are posting on their stories, and the FOMO is slowly fading.
Toxic people: Getting rid of toxic friends, and deleting numbers and chats of people are who no longer important in my life. Having access to me is a privilege.
Self-care: Every Sunday, I'm setting aside a few hours for myself. During that time, I'll be having a long shower, deep conditioning my hair, using a scrub and exfoliator, shaving, moisturizing, and eating something nice. I'll be baking something for the rest of the week so I won't resort to junk food for dessert or snacks.
Understanding and knowing what you want in life is the first step to beginning your journey. Don't let others make you feel guilty for putting yourself first. It's your life, and ultimately, it's only you who can change it.
<3
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redclercs · 11 months
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does he take care of you? ✩ max verstappen
— or, the one where max could easily fill your boyfriend's shoes.
✐ max verstappen x fem reader, charles leclerc x fem reader.
✐ inspired by the 1975's song 'sex'.
✐ warnings: cheating, toxic behaviors, alcohol consumption, charles is a jerk ngl, angst, mdni! explicit smut!! nipple play, fingering, piv, protected sex, riding, no after-care. while the actions portrayed in this writing are consensual and safe, do not take this as an example and be smart about having sex. 2k words.
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HIS eyes are on you, even from across the room. You know it from the way your skin prickles and burns, the way goosebumps lift on your arms and legs, covered by the black dress your boyfriend picked out for you. Your boyfriend, who doesn’t notice—or doesn’t care—about the man who can’t keep his off you. Has never been able to keep his eyes off you.
“Are you cold?” Charles asks as you walk away from the man he was holding a conversation with, one you were not invited to participate in.
“No,” you rub your arms with your palms, making the goosebumps disappear. “Just an air current.”
Charles eyes you up and down, something he’s done several times now. While you changed in your shared hotel room, before you got into his Pista, and before you posed at the Black Carpet for this sponsor event. And he seems unsatisfied every time his eyes leave your figure.
"What?" you taunt, eyebrows arched. He picked this dress, he cannot possibly complain about anything now. He's not even going to care about it when it ends up on the floor of the hotel room along with his perfectly ironed suit.
"Nothing, chérie," he kisses your temple softly, a flutter that makes your skin itch, but you keep your hand stuck to your side, accepting the gesture like you're supposed to. "Give me a minute?"
"Sure," you stay planted in your place as he walks away, your boyfriend. The same person you hate the most every time you are dragged to these events. "I'll be waiting right here," you add, although he's out of earshot and anyway, he won't be looking for you, not for a while.
It's always the same.
"Having fun?" Max is by your side the moment Charles disappears, this too, is always the same.
"I'm thrilled," you reply, mouth in a thin line when you turn to face him. Max has a few drinks on him already, the red in his cheeks, the tell-tale sign. "What about you?"
"It's always fun seeing you with your boyfriend," his inflection doesn't change, he's not even being sarcastic. He's bored. "Where did he go, by the way?"
There are many answers to that question and each one could be the right one. He's holding a boring conversation with another sponsor representative, he's taking pictures with his team, he's pretending to be single and talking to a floozy.
"How would I know?" you retort.
Max's expression finally shifts to an arrogant smile that has you clenching your teeth. You hate him too, sometimes.
"Want to get out of here?" Max downs the last of the drink you didn't notice him holding. His cheeks flush again, eyes brightening.
"You can't drive, Max Emilian," you shake your head and roll your eyes.
Max laughs, taking a black card from the inside pocket of his black suit. "Who said anything about driving?"
You take the elevator first, the card Max gave you is inside your purse and you have the room number memorized. It’s always this easy to slip away from Charles and the rest of the crowd, it’s not as simple for Max but he always manages to.
Your shoes are off and your hair is down by the time Max gets to the hotel room. You’ve had enough time to think your next steps through, whether you want to stay or take the lift back to the party, back to Charles and your hatred. You suspect Max does this on purpose every time—give you time to regret your choices and walk away.
You never walk away.
“He picked this dress out, you know?”
Max has sobered up by the time he crosses the door. His gaze is clearer and his cheeks have lost a shade or two of pink.
“I figured,” the corner of his mouth goes up, taunting again. “It’s ugliest fucking thing.”
“That’s a very mean thing to say,” but it’s true, you hate the dress. It should be you giving Charles fashion advice and not the other way around, but he never takes you seriously. Not about clothes and not about anything else.
Max shrugs, his suit jacket is already resting in the loveseat by the window. “Truth hurts.”
You have no more time to waste. Charles won’t miss you, but it doesn’t mean your absence won’t go unnoticed. People often wonder where your boyfriend’s prettiest accessory is when you’re not around. Most of the time all Charles does is smile and say you’ll come back in a minute.
Not another word before his hands are on you. The calluses on his fingers are so familiar now they somewhat feel like home. How can you hate someone who makes you feel like this, too?
“You’re going to break the zipper,” you breathe against Max’s neck. He’s so impatient, always. These stolen moments are brief and apart from each other, although less every time.
“Wouldn’t that be a problem?” He scoffs, although there’s humor in his voice. Yet he is more gentle trying to undo the zipper of your dress, his knuckles graze the skin on your back and you’re covered in goosebumps again.
It’s your turn to fumble with the zipper of his pants. You’re as impatient as he is but he doesn’t hold it against you the way you do. It’s a very Max thing to do in these situations.
“Why were you staring at me, then?” You ask, breathless. Max’s hands are separating your thighs, and you’re throbbing with anticipation, yet you can’t let go of the thought that’s running through your mind. “If the dress is so horrendous.”
“Seriously?” Max rolls his eyes, but his hand slides to your inner right thigh, fingers ghosting up and down, close to where you want them to be and gone the following second. Your hips buck and it’s Max’s chance to prolong your torture, still holding back his answer.
One of his hands runs up on your side, caressing your hips and the curve of your rib cage before getting to your breast. Your nipples are already perked in excitement, and the sensation that runs through you when he pinches one is nothing short of delicious. But his other hand is still resting on your inner thigh, tracing lazy circles that are running your patience dry.
“I liked the view,” Max grunts as he leans down to kiss your neck and the hollow behind your ear. “But I think, I prefer seeing you like this.”
Your hands are on his hair, pulling softly as he continues to play with your nipples. Adding his mouth now and then, twirling his tongue and grazing with his teeth. The room fills with your moaning and his panting, as you reach your hand down to his dick.
Your thumb swipes the pre-cum down his length, and Max’s breath hitches. It does every time you touch him. You pump him up and down, and this finally motivates him enough to put his fingers inside you, one by one.
This thumb presses down on your clit, and your back arches, making you let go of him momentarily, to hold on to his bicep, your nails sink into his skin.
That’s another imbalance you present to him every time. You mark him, and he can’t ever do the same.
“Fuck me, please,” you whine, his fingers aren’t enough no matter how well he knows how to use them as he pumps them in and out of you and rubs the bud of nerves that demands so much attention. “Please Max.”
He’s made you beg more before, but not tonight. You’re in the middle of another thing, you need to hurry. He can’t have you just the way he wants to, squirming and begging, whining and clenching around nothing as he burns the image in his brain. A memory to hold on to until your next meeting.
Max wastes time, albeit necessarily, looking for the condom he kept on the nightstand, while you rub your thighs together, trying your best to create friction. You sit up only after you see him open the little package, taking the condom from his hands to put it on him yourself. Your fingers are skilled as they run down his length, and Max can’t help but think not only about the many times you’ve done this with him, but with your boyfriend too.
Max watches your movements with lust-filled eyes, his breath fanning your neck, before leaving a wet trace of kisses down to your shoulder. You're desperate to have him inside you, you can't waste more time.
This is the image Max is going to cherish when he's apart from you. The way you look on top of him, how you push him down to the mattress with both palms on his chest, half-moons adorn his skin by the time his shoulders are completely down. He's going to remember the way you moaned and threw your head back as you finally, finally inserted his cock in your pussy.
There aren't many occasions in which Max is willing to waive control to anyone. But he lets you set the pace as you ride him, using his chest as support while moving your hips to hit the spots where you want him most. His hands grip your skin tightly, and there is that fear in the back of your mind that he might finally leave a bruise or a scratch that reveals your little affair.
"N–not so hard," you say, through a high pitched sound that comes right from your throat. "It's going to bruise."
And Max thinks maybe it should. He wants to squeeze you harder, to mark you and bruise you and really, really make you his. To leave evidence behind that he was with you, in you.
But he relents, he always does.
His hand goes back to between your legs, rubbing your clit harshly, quickly. The way he knows will push you through the edge and will make you scream his name.
"Pl–please keep doing that," you gasp, as your pace stutters. "I'm so close."
So is Max, the way you move on top of him, the sight of your breasts bouncing, the salt on your skin due the sweat and the way you glow have him so close to a release, he wonders how he's been able to hold it back.
He thrusts up, hitting you deeper than you had managed yourself. A surprised squeal leaves your mouth and you sink your nails on his shoulder.
"Again," you demand.
Surprisingly, you reach your climax before Max does. Throwing your head back, you let the wave of pleasure run through you, your throat aches when you produce more sounds, turning into nothing other than sensitive nerves and shaky body parts.
Max follows you soon, with a loud groan, he pulls you deeper down into him, squeezing your ass with both hands.
You feel him go soft, still inside you, and you move your hips front and back creating some friction that makes your insides pulse, ready again. Max sighs, he knows he will be hard again even before taking his cock out of you, but tonight you're on limited time.
"We have to go," he says, raspy. "Your boyfriend must be waiting," he adds, bitterly.
And you hate him again, for ruining the perfect interaction you just had. Always bringing up Charles by the end of your nights together.
"Fine," you reply, pushing yourself off him, annoyed. "Let's go."
Silence falls heavy in the room, so contrariant to the sounds that filled it just minutes ago. You fix your hair in the bathroom and Max cleans himself up, tying the used condom before tossing it to the trash.
You give him the room's keycard as he's buttoning his shirt back up. You manage to zip your dress back up without his help, and feel smug about it. Max only rolls his eyes.
"See you down there," you place a hand on his shoulder, and though he's already looking at you, you finally make eye-contact.
Max always finds himself wanting more than what you can offer to him, and tonight isn't the exception. The words 'leave him' get stuck in his throat in a knot he swallows forcefully.
"See you down there," he echoes, and doesn't turn around to watch you leave.
He's never ready to see you with another man's arm around you, much less right after being with you in this way just minutes before. But he has to settle for this, always.
You've got a boyfriend, anyway.
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phas3d · 5 months
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Ideal Type || Slytherin Boys
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note :: just what i think, but they could honestly be with anyone
members :: mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
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Mattheo Riddle
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Appearance:
Sharp eyes that could kill him, eye color doesn’t matter to him
Likes people with more meat on them
Goes crazy if he sees you wearing thigh highs or tight underwear so that you have a little bit of a muffin top, he loves that stuff
Loves dark hair, all of his celebrity crushes are brunettes or have black hair
Likes the y2k style and clean girl, he doesn’t know it’s called that but he likes it lmao
Loves long hair but will make an exception for a short black bob
Low rise jeans are his favorite thing ever
Pretty nails are also a pro in his eyes, shows that you’re hygienic - likes longer nails
Plump lips are a major plus
Likes outfits that show skin in some way, so crop tops, dresses, etc
Personality:
Slightly toxic, which is perfect for him since he’s ultra toxic 😍
He’s not willing to change his lifestyle just for a girl, so he needs someone who’s down to party and do the bad stuff he does
Loves confidence, wouldn’t date a girl who’s insecure
People with the wonyongism mindset are literally his dream type, makes him weak in the knees
If you yell back at him or call him out on his shit, oml he’s already planning your wedding
Loves to annoy you just to get a reaction, smth about you being angry draws him in
He likes social people who get along with others easily
A little bit cocky, but if you laugh at his jokes he instantly finds you more attractive
Dedicated and driven people, like not failing classes, having internships, having a job, all of that is so attractive to him
If you listen to: Kali Uchis, Tyler the Creator, Ariana Grande, Travis Scott, The Neighborhood, The Smiths, The Weeknd, BlackPink, Aespa, Beyoncé, you get so many extra points
Theodore Nott
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Appearance:
Likes shorter people, which is easy for him since he’s 6’0 (183 cm)
Has a thing for people that are flatter, likes rectangle body types
Long hair is his ideal type but loves curly short hairstyles
Gets flustered when he sees you with your hair up, something about it is so appealing to him
Long lashes and falsies are so pretty in his eyes, loves it
Ballet-core, old-money, and minimalist are what styles he likes best on someone
Lovessss skirts and headbands
Likes people with glasses, but specifically people who wear contacts in public but glasses at home
People with the resting sad face are so beautiful to him
Personality:
Likes introverts or shy people, he likes knowing that you’re a homebody so he doesn’t have to worry about cheating
Nerds omg They’re his secret weakness
He loves book smart-street dumb people, it’s a sense of comfort knowing that you’re not involved in his life style
He’s a fuckboy who smokes and drinks, so you become a safe space for him
Quiet and soft voices are one of his biggest weaknesses
Elegance is also something he needs in a partner, someone who’s aware of their words and their actions
When someone covers their mouth when they laugh - So attractive to him
Caring and nurturing people make him want to cry, please comfort this man
If you listen to: Lana Del Rey, Billie Eilish, Mitski, SZA, Her, Adele, Yerin Baek, Matt Maltese, Radiohead, you get an extra point
Lorenzo Berkshire
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Appearance:
Downtown girl, athletic wear, coquette, and other cutesy yet comfortable styles are his idea type
Really loves when someone can dress up in a nice ass outfit and then show up the next day in just a hoodie and bagggyyyy pants
Doesn’t really like tight clothes on his s/o, likes baggy or flowy clothes
Doesn’t care for body type, has dated people on the bigger size and people that were super thin
Loves any facial markings - moles, acne scars, freckles, but esp ance scars
Loves curly and wavy hair, doesn’t care for hair color but does prefer light colors like brown and blonde
Likes girls that look kinda intimidating because of how pretty they are, but are secretly a softie (basically him)
For example, people with a resting bitch face but the second they see something cute they light up
Being shorter than him is fine, but if he’s dead honest he’s always wanted to date a girl taller than him (185 cm+)
Personality:
Bubbly people make him fall so hard
People who are happy almost 24/7 and a little bit stupid and naive is what he loves
Doesn’t care about intelligence much, but doesn’t like people who are failing school
When you’re oblivious to flirting??? Omg he’s done
Wants to feel needed, so you being slightly air headed helps him a lot
Smiling makes him attracted to someone instantly, so constantly smiling and laughing makes him feel the same way
Loves people with a tad bit of sass to them, like eye rolls and stuff
Playful people who agree to do dumb shit with him suits his ideal lifestyle
Someone’s who funny, cause if I’m fr this man is not that funny. He def gets with someone who’s funny
He def had way too many crushes on manic pixie dream girls, so he kinda likes the chase
Likes people who are so free spirited that it’s hard to tie to them
If you listen to: Wave2Earth, Kpop, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Beabadoobee, Sarah Kinsley, Faye Webster, it’s an extra plus for him
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tojirights · 8 days
Text
maki zenin x fem!reader x yuta okkotsu
tags: 1.6k words, 18+ SMUT MDNI, ffm threesome, established relationship(s), fem!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage and blindfolding, praise
a/n: this is the first time I've wrote smut for either of these characters so don't hate me for my botched characterization 😭 also my first time writing an ffm threesome plz be nice 🩷
maki blindfolding you while her and yuta take turns eating you out, your mind completely consumed with the pleasure being given to you. she's got your hands tied loosly above your head. you don't know who is who, who has their fingers in your cunt and who has the mouth on your clit and you can't seem to care until it all stops.
you start to whine, hips bucking in annoyance but you're stopped quickly when a hand closes around your throat and you feel lips at your ear. "y'wanna play a game, princess?" maki whispers, her lips brushing you skin and she snirks when it earns an embarrassing whimper from you. "what kinda game?" you ask tentatively, your heart thrumming in your ears. yuta's just languidly fingering your pussy as maki sets the rules for the game, which is making it increasingly hard to concentrate.
"i wanna see just how well you know us, baby." maki hums, running a finger from your chin down to your nipple before gently rubbing the bud. you mouth opens to ask more questions but all you muster is a pathetic whine as maki toys with your tits, yuta pumping two slim fingers in your leaky cunt. "one of us is going to keep eating your pretty little pussy...." she starts, and you feel both of them shifting on the bed. "but you can only cum if you can guess who it is."
you gasp at the sudden lack of contact as yuta pulls away. "now i know thats not fair, baby." he coos, voice soft and understanding. he reaches forward and releases your bindings, kissing each wrist even though it was just a ribbon tying you and your skin is completely fine. "so, we'll let you use your hands. take your time deciding, love. you know maki isn't as forgiving as me." you hear a soft laugh next to you, which sends a shiver up your spine. "no punishments today. well, i guess not getting to cum would count... but you got this baby." maki huffs, watching your lip pout at the idea of being denied.
"are you ready darling?" yuta places a kiss to your clit before moving from you entirely. you take slow, deep breaths to settle your mind, letting both yuta and maki decide what they want to do to you. you start to really think about how differently the two give you pleasure, and you know your lovers definitely have different approaches but you're sure this won't be easy. your body shakes with anticipation as you feel the slow, easy push of a finger inside of you. your first instinct is yuta, based on the gentle nature of the penetration, but you also know maki is incredibly smart and would know not to go hard on you immediately.
instead of working your mind into a frenzy, you take another breath before settling into the pleasure. you finally feel something warm and wet on your clit as someone's mouth envelopes your sensitive bud. your now free hands dive straight into the hair of whoever happens to be going down on you. your guess now is pretty confidently maki, running your fingers through the thick strands you tend to hold onto for dear life when she eats your pussy. "o-oh ma-" you find yourself about to moan out for her, to make your decision so that you can cum, but the hand that comes around to cup your cheek slides their fingers in your mouth before you can finish.
and now you're turned on and confused, because as you run your tongue along the digits in your mouth, you are positive that those are maki's trimmed fingernails. which means that the delicate tongue and two fingers pumping out of your cunt has to be yuta. you groan as a pair of lips attach themselves to your nipple, tentatively licking and sucking the oversensitive bud.
your hips buck when those fingers curl at just the right angle, causing stars to form even behind closed eyes. your orgasm starts to quickly approach, heat surging all the way down to your toes. you gasp, mouth opening just enough to spit out the intrusion and save yourself the embarrassment of cumming all over yuta's face and actually getting a punishment. "y-yuta stop-" you cry out, cementing your decision in who's mouth is where.
there's a brief pause that hangs in the air as yuta pulls his mouth and fingers from your puffy cunt, and you swear you hear him whine when he sees your pussy clench around nothing. maki slowly kisses from your chest to your jaw, up until her lips find yours. you moan into the kiss, your body still pulsing after being so on the edge. you can feel maki smile against your lips, like she knows something...
and you finally figure it out when you feel the head of yuta's cock prodding your wet hole. you feel maki move, surely stepping off the bed to undress herself, and your thoughts are confirmed when she returns and straddles your chest. your hands fly around her ass, you can feel the heat from her pussy against your bare chest and you can't help yourself but to slide a finger down her slit. maki shudders, letting you toy with her pussy all while yuta's pushing his cock slowly between your walls.
"good girl, you did so good." maki coos, leaning her chest against yours as she goes to capture your lips. "even though you did almost get it wrong." yuta grunts as his hips slam into you, a bit more venom in his tone than usual. your brain is already starting to shut down, every thrust of yuta's thick cock making you spiral into pleasure as maki's lips work on your neck.
as soon as maki's teeth make contact with the sensitive skin of your throat, your whole body clenches as sparks of pain mix deliciously with pleasure. your moans are almost pathetic at this point, and as you're panting and shaking, all you can think of is the sweet taste of maki's cunt on your tongue.
"m-maki please." you mewl, barely even able to squeak out the simple beg. but maki knows you well, and even though she laughs at your feeble request, you feel her moving off your chest. you can all but taste her on your tongue but she stays and hovers instead. "should i really let you, baby girl? i had to interrupt you before you made the wrong choice earlier."
you whine, the feeling of tears forming in your eyes as desperation really sets in. "i-i need your pussy maki, pleaasee let me lick your pussy. i'll cum so hard on yuta's cock." you hear yuta curse under his breath, his thrusts stuttering as he tries not to empty his balls on your words alone. "maki." yuta moans, his breath shaky as he thrusts shallowly into your pussy.
"sit."
you're so taken aback by the authority in his voice that you almost cum, clenching impossibly tight around his length. yuta groans deep in his throat, consumed not only by how wet and tight you are around his cock, but now by the sight of maki slowly lowering herself onto your awaiting tongue. he never hides how much he enjoys watching the two of you, and fuck, he knows it'll make him cum that much harder.
your core burns as you slide your tongue down maki's cunt, lapping at her juices like it's your last meal. she sighs above you, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable. you whimper into her pussy, your hands grasping desperately at the fat of her ass. "shit..." you hear yuta panting out, bucking into you with a new fervor.
maki runs her fingers through your hair before tugging the strands, using your hair as an anchor to grind on your tongue. it's too much, the brutal pace of yuta fucking you open while maki uses your tongue like she would a cock has your orgasm slamming into you. waves of pleasure surge your whole body and all you can think to do is work your tongue into maki's dripping cunt at an even more frenzied manner.
yuta and maki both groan in unison, causing aftershocks to soar through you. maki's thighs are shaking, her breath hitches when your mouth latches onto her clit and you can tell by the way she's unable to stop those pretty moans from escaping that she's right on the edge as well. "god- fuck you're doing so good baby." maki whines, swiveling her hips in an attempt to feel more friction.
yuta reaches forward, his fingers tangling in maki's hair before he pulls her back and meets her eyes. she gasps, back arching to accomidate the way her head is pulled back. "cum, maki please." he pants, gritting his teeth to try and keep his orgasm at bay. you both shudder, knowing it'll be any second before yuta's covering your insides with his seed. "fuck, y-yuta." maki groans, his spasming as she cums on your tongue, tugging even harder on your hair and earning a sad and muffled whimper.
and you can't even be mad at the fact that maki moaned for yuta as she came because the way she's riding your tongue as her orgasm settles makes you want to cream all over yuta's cock again. "aahh that's too good." yuta's voice hitches, and he releases his grip on maki in favor of grabbing your hips and fucking you into the mattress. as maki removes herself from your face, your moans suddenly echo through the room. your body jolts when maki's finger toys with your puffy clit, slow agonizing circles that have electricity surging through you.
"m-ma-maki i'm gonna-" you cry out, tears flowing from behind the blindfold and making it stick to your skin. it would normally feel pretty uncomfortable, but you can't seem to care much as your second orgasm of the night causes your brain to short-circuit. yuta is right behind you, cursing maki for toying you into cumming again. his hips pause, burying his cock so deep as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt.
your body pulses for what feel like, well, forever, as you come down from your high once more. yuta slowly pulls his softening cock out, a quiet whimper following. maki is quick to swipe a finger down your slit, admiring the way your juices mix with yuta's. she reaches up for your blindfold before licking her finger clean, moaning as the taste of both of you melts on her tongue. your head is so thoroughly fucked, all you can do is sigh out a moan as you watch her. yuta places a kiss to your inner thigh before he reaches for a rag to clean you.
"shower now baby?" he asks, watching your eyes flutter close. maki chuckles, brushing the hair from your forehead. "mmh, let her rest yu." she coos, grabbing you a blanket. "i'll come wake you soon, m'kay?" maki watches as your eyes fly open and your head shakes quickly. "nnooo. need you both." your lip quivers as emotions flood you. yuta sighs, crawling back onto the bed with both you and maki.
"of course princess."
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