#these last few weeks I could feel my mental health slowly falling

[abitofboth]

pls pay no mind to the tags this is just a vent post to get some things out<3

[corrodedhawkins]

Withdrawal: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Follow up to Prozac

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), language, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying (non-sexual this time), Eddie being a very supportive but also very horny boyfriend, multiple orgasms and praise.

This fic deals with mental health, mental health medication, withdrawing from medication, the possible side effects of these medications, including sexual dysfunction and the shame that can come with them. Please skip this if any of these things are triggering for you.

Authors note: this is inspired by me finally getting off of my SSRI and being able to feel my clit for the first time in five years. We’re celebrating

After years of being on an SSRI and attending weekly sessions, your therapist thought you had made enough progress to taper you off of your Prozac and onto an NDRI with less side effects. They had warned you the withdrawal process would be difficult, but nothing could have prepared you for what hell the next few weeks would be.

Your emotions were all over the place, and you found yourself screaming one minute then bursting into tears the next. The brain zaps were horrible, jolts of electricity shocking you so suddenly you nearly doubled over every time.

Eddie, bless him, had been a saint through the whole process. He let you scream and cry, and when you were done, he’d scoop you up into his lap and you’d fall asleep against his chest, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.

He would stop at the store on the way home to grab your favorite ice cream, candy bar, or anything else he thought could make you smile. You had to admit, it was hard to be upset when Eddie was shoving a bag full of chocolate, bubble bath, candles and a book into your arms as he ushered you into the bathroom.

Three weeks into withdrawal you finally start to feel better, your emotions much more stable with only the occasional brain zap. As supportive as Eddie had been, he missed being intimate with you. The second he was sure you were feeling better, he practically shoved you down onto the mattress. He crawls between your legs, whispering a, “missed you”, to your pussy before diving in.

Your snort of amusement turns into a cry of pleasure as you feel Eddie’s tongue lap at your clit.

“Holy fuck”, you stare down at him, propping yourself up onto your elbows. “Wha-what are you doing?”, you gape.

Eddie lifts his head from between your thighs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Eating your pussy?”, he answers slowly, tone questioning.

“No shit”, you slap at his shoulder weakly. “I mean, what are you doing differently? Feels really good.”

He ducks back down to mouth at your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it. You feel him smirk against you when your hips jolt, hand flying to bury your fingers into his hair.

“You mean this?”, he asks before diving back in and sucking harshly at your clit. His big hands grab your hips to keep you still, pinning you to the mattress.

“Hah-yes. D-don’t know where you learned that but it’s good.”

As much as he loves seeing you enjoy yourself, his confusions wins out. “Baby”, he murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs, his day-old stubble scraping against the sensitive skin. “M’not doing anything differently. This is what I always do. Want me to keep going?”

“Please”, you breathe.

You feel him nod against you as he peppers kisses from your inner thighs to your slit, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Ohmyfuckinggod”, you yelp, throwing your legs over his shoulders for leverage. You buck up as much as you can in his hold, grinding Eddie’s nose into your clit as he laps up the slick dripping from your hole to the sheets below.

“Can I have your fingers? Please?”, you whine pathetically as Eddie reaches up to shove two fingers into your mouth. You immediately suck on them, getting them nice and wet.

With one last swirl of his tongue against you, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and taps them against your hole. “This what you want?”

“Yes”, you cry, a little louder than you meant to.

Eddie chuckles, placing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “S’okay, I got you.”

His fingers inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. They drag against your g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, your thoughts a mess of “whatthefuckwhatthefuck”.

The usually elusive orgasm builds quickly, one hand tangled in his curls as the other grips the sheets below. “Please don’t stop”, you beg.

“Not stopping”, he promises, thumb reaching up to swirl circles around your clit as he speaks. “I can feel how close you are, sweetheart. You gonna cum for me?”

All you can do is nod frantically, hand tightening against his scalp.

His mouth replaces his thumb on your clit, keeping the hard but steady pace of his fingers curling up against your g-spot.

It only takes seconds before you’re crying out, muscles seizing before you’re shaking apart as you cum against his tongue.

Sagging back against the pillows, you ride out your orgasm until you’re overstimulated, shoving his head away as you catch your breath.

“Good?”, Eddie smirks, biting playfully at your thigh.

You stare at him for a moment before it hits you. “No way, no fucking way.” Your hands come up to cover your face, the realization making your stomach flip.

“What? What is it?”, Eddie’s on you in an instant, pulling your hands away from your face to get a good look at you. “Baby, talk to me.” His eyes flick over your features, desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong.

The tears you’ve been holding back fall as the care in his tone hits you. “That’s what I’ve been missing?”, you practically wail.

Eddie reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, a look of genuine bafflement etching features. “Huh?”

With a huff, you sit up and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I just came in less than two minutes, Eddie. Two minutes.” Two fingers are thrust against his chest to emphasize your point. “And I felt everything. Nothing felt numb or dull. It’s like my clit just woke up from a thousand year slumber.”

He snorts at that, biting his lip when you shoot him a glare. “Isn’t…isn’t that a good thing?”, he asks timidly.

“Of course it is”, you try to take a deep breath and fail, the tears coming back before you can stop them. “It’s great, but now all I can think about is how I‘be been cheated out of that with you because of my meds”, you sniffle. “I’d been on it so long I didn’t even remember I could feel like that.”

“Baby”, Eddie sighs, his heart breaking for you as he wraps you in his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “M’so sorry you spent so long like that. Please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it”, you mumble, burying your face back against his shoulder.

His hand rubs over your back soothingly, waiting for you to to settle before he speaks. “Y’know, I think you’re looking at this entirely the wrong way.” Eddie pulls back and tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Hear me out”, he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear and leans in close. “If the way you were flailing around like you were possessed is any indication, I think it was pretty good for you?”

“You’re exaggerating”, you turn your attention to his hands, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth.

“Mhm no baby, I’m not. I almost called a priest. Got a little worried we needed an exorcism.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as you giggle, relieved he can make you feel a little better.

“And if it felt that good”, he continues, voice dropping a few octaves. He knows what that tone does to you, the bastard. “And you came that quickly, imagine how good it would feel if I laid you out and took my time with you, pulled out every trick I know. Imagine how many times I could make you cum.”

You can hear the smirk in his tone as his hand snakes down your body, thumb swirling deliciously slowly around your clit.

A shaky breath rushes out of you, the feeling of your clit starting to throb again startling you. If you were lucky, you came once, unable to even think about a second orgasm. Apparently, things had changed.

Eddie nuzzles into your neck, sucking kisses to the exposed skin, his thumb picking up speed. “Think you can go again?”

He chuckles against your skin when you immediately nod. “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you?”

You made a mental note to send your therapist a fruit basket as you came for the third time that night.

[cherryblossomwriting]

Morning Whispers

Summary: Harry’s raspy morning voice turns Y/N on

W.C: 719 

Warnings: None, just mentions of oral sex 

Tags: Singer!Boyfriend!Harry x Girlfriend!Y/n 

The rays of sunshine falling through the mesh curtain like sprinkles of glitter. Watching the sun shine on a winter morning is the best feeling ever. But you know what's even better than that… having a man with a face chiselled with features handcrafted by the gods of ancient Greece sleeping right next to you on the same bed. The irony between the soft sunlight kissing his manly face that seems to have aged like fine wine with wisdom, oh how she envied the sun. His eyebrows always seem to quiver while he is relaxed in his sweet slumber. She knows how stressful the last couple weeks have been for him. Harry is planning his next world tour, she is extremely happy for her boyfriend however it has taken a toll on his mental health. She can’t help but stare at the butterfly tattoo on his abs that move rhythmically with each breath. These were the moments she lived for. The feeling where the world goes quiet, a sense of absolute serenity… a little world of their own, just her and Harry. Sometimes it's hard for her to believe that the moment she is experiencing is actually true. A dream came true. She could never get enough of him. Y/N cant help but smile as she watches his lips slightly pout in his sleep, a habit he has that she noticed from the very beginning of their relationship. Even now, after 3 years into their relationship, it makes her smile at how innocent he looks while he sleeps. She moves her face closer to his and gives him a small kiss on his lip. Moving her hands into his hair just to massage them lightly. 

His eyes slowly open as he tries to adjust to the bright sunlight. He smiles as he watches the love of his life staring at him like he is the only man she has ever seen. Anyone watching them from far away could say that they love each other to death. Harry pulls Y/N into a deep, passionate kiss to start the day on a good note. “Good mornin’, my sweet pea,” he says in his deep, raspy morning voice. “Oh, Im fucked,” she thinks to herself. If someone asked her what motivates her to get up in the morning. She sure would answer by saying “just to hear his morning voice”. Harry has always had a deep yet calming voice, however, his voice tends to get extra deep in the morning. It resembles his raw, sexual masculinity. However, Y/n's voice tends to be the exact opposite of Harry’s. Soft, delicate and fragile. This is because most mornings her voice is gone due to shouting and moaning Harry’s name all night. 

“You know how much I love you right, darling?” He speaks with care and love in his voice. The deadly combination of his sweet words of affirmation and his alluring, sensual voice gets Y/n’s mind in a spiral. He never fails to mention how much he loves her first thing in the morning. “I know. I love you too. A little too much right now,” she says in her soft voice. “Yeah, why is that?” he asks, knowing the reason very well. A few months into the relationship he realised how much his morning voice turned her on. Although she never confirmed it, he knew very well. “You know very well baby” she replies back. He just hums back and pulls her into his chest. Her back touching his chest. He sprinkles small kisses on her neck and kisses her a little longer on the spot that he knows is extremely sensitive. Leaving a small mark for him to admire later on in the day. He drags his hand on her waist down to her naked stomach, rubbing small circles. Y/N usually sleeps in her cute, crop tops and shorts while Harry sleeps only in his boxers. Harry positions Y/N on her back as he gets on his knees. She knows exactly what he is going to do and to say she was excited (in both ways;)) was an understatement. She gasps as he pulls her shorts down. He spanks her inner right thigh and groans and murmurs “Now hush, let daddy have his breakfast in peace.”       

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Let me know your view in the comments below!

Lots of Love

xoxo

[sturniolopepsi]

‘tis the season…for seasonal depression (C.S)

cw: talks seasonal depression/anxiety/ED (LIGHTLY) (read at own risk please!) use of y/n ¿ANGST i think¿

req: no i was listening to “Can’t catch me now” by Olivia Rodrigo and we got here. enjoy!

A/N: please don’t read if your triggered by the topic! your mental health is more important and this fic will always be here to come back to when you’re in a better headspace love! MY DM’S ARE ALWAYS OPEN!

~what i write is completely fictional, these are just ideas in my head. i understand the people i write about do not and may not act like this in these situations ITS FICTIONAL BABES!~

NOT PROOF READ. AND JUST A JUMBLE OF THOUGHTS

***

y/n’s phone buzzes on the night stand, she debates answering it but taking the covers off her head to face the world around her seems to be to big of a daunting task at the moment. it buzzes again but she chooses to ignore it, snuggling deeper in her safe place under the covers.

she hasn’t actually spoken to anyone in about two days… but this depression episode started about a week ago, y/n slowly started to drift away. her boyfriend and his brothers busy with meetings and their lives hardly noticing her absence.

***

the triplets getting home from their meeting, chris tries calling and texting y/n. with no successful attempts he goes downstairs into the kitchen where his brothers are sitting planning the next wednesday baking video.

“has anyone heard from y/n?” chris asks his brothers both of them having a confused look on their faces. “no actually not for a few days.” matt responds, “not since the day we brought her mcdonalds. which was monday i think” it was now Thursday. “last time i heard from her was tuesday she put a short response in the girls group chat but that was itttt.” nick adds now matching chris’ horrified expression.

chris knew of her seasonal depression but it only being november he didn’t expect it to hit this early and this fast. “yeah, i didn’t get to message her yesterday i passed out before i could” he starts walking out of the kitchen. the boys could hear his voice breaking knowing he’s blaming this all on himself. before chris knows it he has his beanie on and shoes on.

“chris, where are you going?” nick asks standing in the hallway looking out towards the door. matt starts to grab his keys knowing his brother is about to ask for a ride to y/n’s house.

“too her”

chris opens the door disappearing out into the cold winter boston night.

***

hearing the front door open and closing downstairs startles the poor girl awake. before the panic attack can start she hears his voice. “y/n where are you?” she would answer him. but she doesn’t want him to see her like this. so if she pretends she’s not here maybe he will think she’s at her parents house. though, knowing him he’d try there too if he didn’t find her here. causing her parents to then worry about her whereabouts and well being as well as chris. she hears his footsteps coming up the stairs.

“in here chris… i’m okay just not feeling good i wouldn’t come in” her voice cracking after not being used in a while. she hears his pace picking up over the stairs and a little knock on the bedroom door before he slowly opening it to the dark room. seeing her poke her head out of the covers tears instantly threatening to fall at the sight of him “i’m sorry” her voice breaks. “oh baby” is all he can whisper walking over to the edge of her bed.

that’s when the tears start, she can’t control them and she doesn’t even know why she’s crying every doubt every fear RUNNING to her head at once. he climbs in bed with her instantly pulling her into his arms. whispering, “i’m sorry baby… it’s okay… shhh… i’m here… i’m here pretty girl… you’re not alone anymore…” softly kissing her on the top of the head. her face shoved into his chest and her body rattling with each sob, which only makes him hold her a little closer and keep whispering sweet things to her.

after some time she calms, chris still holding her as close as before. “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry chris” she states again her voice stuffy from the crying. “don’t apologize, pretty girl. don’t ever apologize for this.” she looks towards him, her face red from the crying, her eyes soft and tired, hair a mess from being in her bed. that’s when he hears her stomach growl. “baby when was the last time you had something to eat?” he asks looking at her, her face going from this soft sad to a confused state. the fact she’s trying to remember when her last meal was let’s chris know it’s been to long. “umm mcdonald’s, with you” she responds. his face drops… “y/n… that was monday night kid, it’s thursday.” her face looks confused clearly not realizing what day it was. “oh my sweet girl… am i able to go and get you a bath ready or a shower depending on what one you feel comfortable with. if you want i’ll call matt once you’re done he can come get us we can get something to eat, stop and get some snacks, and you come back to our house? i want you to be close to me so i can make sure you’re okay” he understands that he can’t just 1. force her to leave her bed if she’s not ready yet hence why he asked if she was comfortable with that. and 2. he knows he can’t just tell her everything will be okay and she will be perfect and happy again. he knows depression works on its own time but, at least if she’s with him he will be able to keep an eye on her.

she slowly nods processing the information and making her decision. she also really doesn’t want to be alone so, it seems like a good idea. “yeah. that sounds okay… just will you sit in the bathroom with me please?” laying her head back down on his chest seeming silly asking him if that request. “of course. anything you need sweetheart. you just tell me when you’re ready to get up okay?” giving her a light squeeze kissing the top of her head once more.

“we will get through this y/n… no matter when, no matter where… i love you.”

“i know… i love you too chris”

A/N: IM SOBBING IM SO SORRY

[melodramaschild]

Cigarettes out of the window- poly! marauders when you start overworking out to try and be prettier for them

Robie's funeral

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖, 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

Navigation || Age limit

Warnings: bulimia, body dysmorphia, slow burn, crying and bad mental health, negative self-talk, not happy ending, my writing, part 2 on its way

Let me know if I forgot anything

Words count: 2 299

Pairing: poly! Remus Lupin x James Potter x Sirius Black x fem!reader

Read me: If you see any mistakes, please let me know. English isn’t my first, not even second, language and reminding me of some mistakes would help a lot. Also, feel free to reblog.

A/N: please, don’t read this if you’re easily triggered about your eating disorder. Remember that this is not any motivation for you to start witch such a thing like this. I’m just writing the request. If you feel like you have problems with eating disorder, please reach out for help. || and I’m also sorry that I didn’t stick up with only reader who is overworking out.

My girl Y/n/n used to always smoke cigarettes when she couldn't sleep

You were sitting in the bath robe, hair hidden in a hair mask under a satin bonnet and tears slowly daring out. You needed to look pretty.

Covering yourself in another face mask, the liquid substance sticking on your skin and your fingers gently massaging it in.

That’s what you’ve been doing everyday for the last few weeks.

You stopped sneaking into your boyfriends’ room as you did every night, instead you were doing… whatever you want to call this. Let’s call it a bad habit of yours. A new bad habit.

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

Instead you were falling asleep with loud thoughts and tears slowly staining your pillow. Your thoughts were cruel, mean, inexorable. Always telling you that their love is just a prank on you and if you really want to be lovable you need to be pretty, and that you weren’t pretty for love.

Late night heavy thoughts were replaced with James’ (and sometimes Sirius’) morning workout. Just typical cardio. Running on the Quidditch’s field as your lungs were always burning. That was the price of beauty.

“Are you alright, sweet cheek?” James asked between his own gasps as he saw you ‘I’m going to pass out any moment’ position. Hands on your knees, labored shallow breathing and tears burning in your eyes. “Y-yeah,” you breathed out, the breath burning your throat. “Just forgot how to breathe for a bit.” you tried to play it as a joke but James was still worried. “Alright, just catch me if you are too tired.” He leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting. And disgusted.

James kissed your sweaty forehead. Your ugly forehead where you didn’t practice your morning skin care routine. Your forehead that was now all scrunched up. Your fucking sweaty forehead that was dripping with sweat.

For you, it was derogatory now.

But for you in the past and for James, it was normal and a sign of love. James didn’t care how sweaty you were and how you looked. He loved you whole with his whole huge heart, no matter what. And for you in the past, it would mean the same.

“Do you fancy a shower with me?” James smirked at you towards the shower. It was something you used to do after his games. All four of you. Take a shower where you and Remus pampered James and Sirius. Massaging their scalps and planting small kisses all over each other.

It was something you used to do with James after his training. Taking a quick shower with him, which always turned into a water fight. No one was happy because of that mess afterwards.

And normally you would fancy a shower with James. But the person was no longer in you. You needed to be pretty to have a fancy shower. Anyway, you used trips to bathroom for a different reasons now too.

“No, thank you, Jamie.” you gave him your apology and before he could say something, you ran away to take your own shower.

To wash out the sweat and scrub your whole body to have the smoothest skin in the whole United Kingdom. To have smooth skin like those girls you read about it fan-fictions.

She'd disappear for an hour and a half and when she'd come back she'd brush her teeth

And that went day after day. Meeting James on the morning run and then Sirius on the evening run. Meeting Remus on the afternoon study because no one would date a stupid girl.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked you when he noticed that you’re not there in spirit. You didn’t answer, he reached out his hand, the back of it stroking the side of your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you hummed, only because you heard some noises. Remus sighed, sadness washing over him as he realised that no matter what was happening, he was slowly losing you. They, they were slowly losing you.

He leaned a bit closer to you, his warm fingers hooking under your chin, your eyes locking with his amber eyes. The golden hour played with his hair and eyes, making him look like a fallen angel. So pretty.

And so pretty, but not for you.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” he said, softly. “Why don’t you talk to me?” His lips turned into one of his sweet smiles. “Talk to me, like you used to.” His fingers found their way to stroke your cold cheek. “So, are you alright?” he raised his eyebrows at you. In his face there was no taunt or mockery, just a lust for knowing what’s really bothering you. There was a worry written in his face.

You opened your mouth but all you could do was to choke on your words. Your lower lip started to wobble and you couldn’t fill your lungs with oxygen.

“N-no.” you squeaked before completely fondling yourself into Remus’ open arms.

No.

Just a simple one word, one sentence that was telling him a whole story. Remus pulled you closer to him, and closer, and closer until you were curled up in his lap. Your arms wrapping around his neck like you’re drowning and he was your saving buoy.

Painful and heart wrecking sobs were escaping your throat and your salty tears were drenching his jumper. But all he ever wanted was you to know that it’s okay. That you could ruin every jumper he owned with your tears if that would cure you.

His warm hands were traveling from your shoulder blades to your lower back, rubbing your loins as he knew that they would hurt you.

His warm and soft hands, on your tender shaking back.

“Shh,” he whispered oh so quietly. “Is going to be alright, darling.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting his own tears not to escape in front of you.

“It’s not, it’s not going to be okay.” you sobbed and clutched on his tall figure.

“No no, don’t say that, sweet girl,” he shook his head and a first tear slipped from his closed eyes, running down his cheek and burning on his fresh unhealed scar. “It is going to be okay, alright?” he placed a kiss on the top of your head. He didn’t give you a chance to argue with him before he pleaded: “Look at me,” his voice was desperate. Just like his hands prying your face from his neck.

Remus cupped your face, seeing tears streaming down your face and your lips being curled up in a painful twist. If the room was silent, you could hear Remus’ heart shattering into billion tiny pieces.

“We are going to solve this out, alright?” He looked at you through his light lashes. “You and me,” he continued. “You and me and Jamie and Sirius, okay? We’re not going to let you be alone for this.” Remus promised.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, nor even nod, all you could do was to hide in his body again and cry into his jumper.

But I could still smell it on her raggedy teeth

Sirius was playing with Padfoot’s tennis ball, throwing it into the air, trying to reach the ceiling. His eyebrows were knitted together in an intended look.

“I think something’s wrong.” he murmured out of nowhere.

“Wacha mean by that?” Remus looked up from his book, The Shining, still smelling new. “Look at it, mate,” Sirius sat up on his bed, spreading his arms around. “Y/n/n is not here.”

Remus and James glared at him, their faces telling that they already noticed.

“I mean,” Sirius started. “She was there,” he looked at his other boyfriend. “and suddenly she’s not here. Only meeting up with me on my afternoon run and-”

“What did ya say?” James interrupted him and titled his head.

“What?”

“”Bout that run, say it again.”

Sirius blinked at him a few times, completely confused just like every time in position class. Marauders talked about everything. Remus, Sirius and James especially as they all had the love bond. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about studying, they talked about why James ate cheese again when he’s lactose intolerant, they talked about their breathtaking girlfriend. They talked about what to do for the big anniversary, where to take you and if you would fancy a trip to Edinburg… but for some reason they never talked about how you’re sticking up with them through the day.

“She is running with me on afternoon runs,” Sirius nervously chuckled. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

The thing about Sirius’ run was… Let’s say that Sirius found a healthy coping mechanism for him. But what was saving him was something that was killing you.

James stood there, blankly staring into the space.

“James, what’s happening?” Remus crawled at the end of the bed to his boyfriend. James didn’t hear him, the ringing was way too loud in his ears, like hundreds of mosquitoes attacking his brain, only experiencing this feeling when he got overwhelmed with the whole world.

Remus reached out for his hand and tucked on his fingers. “Darling boy,” he looked up at him. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” Remus pleaded.

“Y/n/n was on a run with me this morning.” James started. “And yesterday’s morning too.” he breathed in. “And the previous morning too, and that morning too,” he wanted to continue but his voice disappeared into the air as his brain started working with puzzles.

“She was with me yesterday’s afternoon too, and the previous too.” Sirius added, slowly catching in.

“That’s… too much,” James whispered. “And then… I didn’t see her at breakfast. Not for the last few weeks.” James started thinking out loud.

“Oh c’mon, mate, she said she is getting nauseous from breakfast.” Sirius waved in front of him, completely believing your explanation.

But Remus understood. Way more quickly then he would want to.

The way he saw you getting more and more exhausted everyday, the way you excused yourself for bathroom breaks after everything you ate, the way you kept sipping on your water without even reminding. Something was awfully wrong.

“Fuck,” Remus breathed out when he realised. “What?” Sirius and James glared at him.

“Did you notice any suspicious behavior in her?” He asked, quickly opening his bedside table and grabbing his notes and pen, scrambling something down.

“Mmm,” James thought. “Lot’s of drinking?” Sirius brought that up. “Like she is able to drink a whole liter on our afternoon run. Which is weird, she used to drink a whole liter throughout the day, not an hour.”

Remus wrote that piece down, doing his math. It would make sense, it was after lunch and running made you nauseous too anyway. The perfect opportunity.

“Anything other?” He asked.

“Well, for me, it’s not spending time with us. It’s been weeks since we had a sleepover. And sometimes, I see her on a map sneaking into Hogsmeade and always coming back with bags of something.” James added.

“Mhm,” Remus nodded. “That’s really… new and odd.”

“Remus what are you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to sneak glances behind his shoulder.

“Thinking, it’s a very helpful thing.” Remus snearled.

After a few minutes, Remus was done, pinching the bridge of his nose as he was the one wearing glasses.

“I… I’m only assuming, but,” Remus took a deep breath. “It’s obvious Y/n has a problem. On that list there can be issues with food consumption and weight loss. Maybe some shopaholic tendencies too.” He read you out like a book

“But what does she buy?” James asked.

“Maybe… I don’t know.” Remus shook his head.

“So, when are we going to talk to her?” Sirius mumbled, his legs bouncing as his thoughts swirled in his mind. Another fake scenario is coming up about you.

“What time is it?” James asked. “Around 16, do you have any idea where she is?” Remus looked at his boyfriends. “Probably at her place.” They looked at each other, communicating through eyes and suddenly it all clicked. They all got up, ruffling their bed sheets.

They all reached their stairs but Remus stopped, turning around and running back. “Rem! What are you doing? We are running out of time!” Sirius shouted. “Shut up!” Remus barked and ran to his drawer. Ruffling it all over until he found the thing he got back for. Your (his) comfort (not his comfort) sweater. Remus quickly changed it and tidied it up with his fingers. It was a forest sweater with light and red stripes, it was a bit itchy on his skin and people sometimes mocked him for it, but he swore to the Lord that it was a magnet on you. Every time he wore it, you were glued to him for the whole day, always nuzzling your cheek into his chest and always holding him so close.

“Really? You had to change right now?” Sirius chuckled. “You don’t get it.” Remus rolled his eyes.

They ran into your place, knocking on your door and deciding to come in when no one answered.

Maybe you were just taking a nap, listening to some music or forgot to close the door.

However and whatever, they expected everything, but none of them wanted to believe that they would see their girlfriend coming from her bathroom, wiping her mouth into her sleeve that was covered in… god knows stuff. With puffy lips and eyes stained red, looking like she committed the biggest crime ever.

“Loves,” you did hoarse, your throat still burning up.

“What-” Sirius started, shaking his head as everyone had their eyes glued on you, shocked and scared expressions on their faces.

“What have you done…?”

[russellsppttemplates]

We're in this together, mon amour (Pierre Gasly)

There are times harder than others, but Pierre is making sure he's always there for his wife

Note: english is not my first language. this is my long piece in ehat feels like a lifetime, I hope I can still do it well enough, and, like usual, I like to say this to make it clear: this request is special because this is a topic that I feel huge responsibility writing about and I feel grateful that I'm trusted enough to have it be requested (and you don't need to feel anxious or scared to submit things like this, this is not a learning platform necessarily, nor I am a teacher, but I'm more than happy to write about these things and materialise some ideas you have). As I've said before, I hate the whole idea of labelling, but I also know and understand how important it is to see some of you and your characteristics portrayed in a character.

I'm very happy and proud of you for making progress about it too ✨️🤍

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and I'm slowly trying to get back to taking requests, and I am writing some blurbs when I can, so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: mentions mental health issues (anxiety symptoms, self-doubt), going to therapy, family issues

You arrived home after another day at work, hoping that you could put this week behind you and go into the weekend to relax. You could count on one hand the moments this week where you didn't feel completely on edge. Work was going through a busy time and despite being very happy that the company was growing and your work was being valued, it did pile up with everything else. And could you really complain about your home life? You had a supportive husband, way more supportive than you feel like you deserve and with everything else happening, it just created all these thoughts that would not leave your mind, no matter how much you tried and insisted they would leave.

Maybe a shower would help, you thought, going upstairs to the ensuite and grabbing your favourite products in hopes they would make you feel better. You stripped out of your work clothes and placed them in the hamper, putting some music on your phone so you could have something else occupying your mind when you noticed a message from your husband, saying he would be home later than expected since the sponsor meeting had evolved to a drinks and food situation, apologising for the sudden change of plans with an I love you in the end.

Walking inside the cabin, the water distracted you for about two minutes before everything came back up, thoughts of how you could be the wife to be there with him, supporting him while in big crowds, not needing to take a few moments away because it was getting too much. And maybe how he could do so much better, how he could easily have someone to do that for him without any trouble, and yet he chose you to spend the rest of his life with. And the feeling that settles in your chest makes it harder for you to breathe, harder for you to think and distract yourself so you push your back against the cold wall, the feeling so shocking to your senses that it just about got you back to yourself so you could wash your hair and body and get out.

You were in the bedroom, putting your pyjamas on when you heard Pierre's footsteps going up the stairs, "Amour, are you in the bedroom? I was wondering if you wanted to go and grab something to eat", he said before he entered the bedroom, "Oh, pyjamas already?", he asked in a neutral tone, but to you, it was the last straw. Tears started falling down and your legs started to shake as you tried your best to calm down, Pierre already kneeled in front of you, "hey, amour, hey, what's wrong?", he made you look at him, "breathe with me", he instructed, "there you go, you can talk whenever you want to", he offered as soon as you seemed to calm down, "but I will need you to tell me what's going on", he said before getting up only to sit next to you on the bed.

"I've been feeling a lot of things recently, and they're not very good", you began, "and I know I should've told you, but I don't want to bother you", and Pierre tapped your hand twice, something he had been doing for a while whenever he wanted you to know he had something to say whenever you were talking, "you will never be a bother, Y/N, you can tell me how you're feeling", he brushed some hairs out of your forehead.

Sighing, you looked up at the ceiling before speaking, "Sometimes I feel like I'm too much for you, I'm either too much work, too much drama...and I get scared one day I'll be too much for you to handle, I'm sorry I'm like this", you shared. It had always been there, a small impostor's syndrome almost where you didn't feel like you could even compare to the another drivers' partners, but recently it had all become a bit more obvious in your eyes. Your wedding had been full on Pierre's side, whilst your side was a lot smaller, consisting mainly of friends and some family members who you still had a good relationship with, everyone seemed to be wondering when you'd have a little one when there were days you felt you could barely care for yourself, people often commented and you were and when you weren't in the paddock, whatever attendance trend not satisfying their curiosity.

Pierre gulped. You had never shared this with him, not with this much emphasis. Anytime you'd feel a little more insecure, he would shower you with love, and he thought it had been enough.

"None of that is true, my love", he began, "I can assure you that. I love you no matter what", he stated, "You'll never be too much for me", Pierre assured you as he held your hand in his, making sure you kept looking at him, "there's nothing in this world than I won't do for you to make sure you feel good and well", he noted, "I- I didn't know you felt like this, I'm sorry for not noticing it".

You looked at him, seeing the hurt in his eyes, "I didn't mean to hurt you. See? This is what I mean, everything is taking a toll, now you're not feeling good about it, and it's all my fault", you took a deep breath, "hey, amour. You don't have to feel guilty about his, okay? Above anything else, I want you to be okay, so we can be okay, too. You just have to let me know", he said as he managed to hold your gaze in his, "I was thinking the other day, maybe I should go back to therapy. I stopped because I felt really good but maybe it's time to go back", you said.

Softly rubbing your cheek, Pierre spoke first, "if you think that will help, mon amour, we'll go just now, I would take you if I could right now", he said, bringing a small smile to your face, "I'll be by your side through it all, amour".

.

"Do you want me to pick you up after your appointment?", Pierre asked, looking at the calendar you had on your home office's wall, "Oh yes, that would be good actually. The mechanic said my car wouldn't be ready until the day after tomorrow", you smiled before closing a file you were working on.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something", he began, grabbing your attention, continuing once you nodded, "I've been wondering about other ways to help you, and I was wondering, with you permission of course, if I could talk to your therapist. Not to know what you discuss in the sessions, but rather to know more about the whole thing. Like, how I can help you and know all the signs and things. This with your permission, of course", he said. You gave it a thought, "I'm okay with it. I know my psychologist won't break the ethical code. But do you want to do that?", you wondered, "I want to know more of how I can help you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible, and while I know a few things, there are more things that maybe she can tell me. I want to be able to help you to the best of my abilities", he said as he cradled your cheek, "but only if you're okay with it", he reiterated. Smiling at him, with small happy tears in your eyes, you mimicked his stance with your own hands, thumbs rubbing his stubbly cheek, "I love you, so much. Thank you for always being here for me", you said before allowing your arms to change position and hug your husband, arms circling his body, "you and me until the end, ma belle".

.

"There were some difficult questions today", you said to Pierre over the phone, "but I'm getting better at talking about it", you said, watching his face in the videocall, "I'm so proud of you, mon amour", he said, "It's nothing really, that's just-", you were interrupted by him, "it is big, and even if it was a small thing, you're working on it", he smiled.

"You've been a really big part, too", you winked, "I'm just making sure my wife knows the truth, that she is worth everything, that she is capable of anything, and most importantly, I try everyday to make you feel the happiness and love you deserve", he smiled.

.

"Do you still want to go for dinner tonight?", Pierre asked as he adjusted the sleeves on his shirt, having noticed you had been particularly quiet since getting home from work, "do you mind if we stay in tonight? I know you were really excited, and I was really excited too but work was too much today, and a lot of people were talking and I-", you were interrupted by your husband, "you don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to, mon amour. Was it something I did that I can make better?", he asked as you shook your head no, "was it something you had total control over?", he asked again, "no, I couldn't do more than take a few breaks and distract myself when I felt overwhelmed", you said as you saw him smile, "exactly. So we can control this now, and we can stay in. Do you want to make food together or order in?".

.

"Are you feeling okay? We can leave early if you want to", Pierre whispered in your ear as you walked to the table in the restaurant the team had rented out to celebrate the recent positive results, "I'm okay, so far so good", you smiled at his attentiveness, kissing his hand that was laced with yours as you sat down and greeted everyone at the table.

Pierre came back from using the bathroom when he noticed you weren't inside the room anymore, going up to where you were sitting and asking for you, "Y/N took Maisie outside, we are discussing some things for the next meeting and she took her outside with her to see the stars", Elise from the engineering team said before Pierre made his way to the outside garden of the restaurant, wanting to know where and how you were.

"Oh, there you are, Y/N", he said, looking for any sign of discomfort in your body language, but only finding you comfortable looking up at the stars with the little girl in your arms as she tried to grab them, "She was getting a little bit cranky, bless her", you explained, seeing the worried creases on his forehead soften, "so I thought we could come outside and see the stars and the moon while the adults talked about boring engineering things", you smiled as Maisie seemed to pay attention to your husband now, "are you looking at Pierre? He's very handsome, right?", you tapped her nose and she let out a delicious giggle, earning giggles from both of you in return.

"I thought you might have not felt good inside, I was worried for a second there", Pierre explained, "I was fine, everyone was lovely as usual, but she was getting a bit restless and Elise and Tom couldn't keep her entertained, so I said I could take her if they'd like", you said as you felt Maisie cuddle into your chest, her hands grasping the material of your shirt, "and she's really fighting sleep, aren't you, little monkey?", you said as you softly stroked her cheek, "you need to sleep, little one", Pierre offered as he started walking, hoping that the steady movement would help her fall asleep easily.

"I'm very proud of you", Pierre began talking, "I can only imagine how hard things still can be for you, but you work everyday to get better at it and to be better, and that makes me so happy and proud of you", he said as he circled his arm around your waist and kissed the side of your head, mindulf of the little girl who whose eyes were becoming droopier by the minute, "thank you, you know I would've not done it without you", you looked at him, "a lot of it comes down to me, I know, but having you there makes it easier", you finished, puckering your lips so he could kiss them, "we're in this together, mon amour", he offered before a snore was heard, the both of you cooing at the sight of Maisie asleep, leaving you to think once again about kids. It had been going on for a while, especially now that you felt a lot more in control and like you could deal better with your day to day thoughts. "Hey, my love, I've been thinking about something lately, and you obviously have a say in this, but I've been thinking about one of our own", you voiced your thoughts, knowing that your relationship was an open and comfortable place for you to share them without any judgement from your husband, "I know there's still some work to do, and quite frankly there will always be, but I've been thinking about it and it doesn't scare me like it did before, I actually look forward to every moment", you finished your ramble, looking for any sign of disagreement in Pierre's face, finding only a big smile, "whenever you are ready, mon amour, you just let me know and we can start practicing for a little Gasly", he laughed, squeezing your body against is, "seeing you with a baby on your arms is making me absolutely ready", he whispered in your ear, "hey, small ears are within hearing capacity!", you suddenly felt shy, "what? I'm promising her a little friend to play with in the paddock next year!".

[thefangirlfever]

The studious type (a Miguel O'hara fanfic, 18+, MDNI)

Summary: Boyfriend Miguel helping you relax during your finals week.

Tags: F/M, afab reader, College AU, established relationship, smut, oral sex (F. receiving), Miguel being a munch (because I can), use of condoms, masturbation, thigh riding, PIV penetration, fluff, soft Miguel O’hara, a bit of dirty talk, aftercare

Note: Finals are not the only thing coming… Very self-indulgent. My first time trying this format, hope you like it.

I am too tired and I don’t have much time, so please, accept this blurb instead of a real story ToT

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Saying that you are anxious for your upcoming finals is an understatement. You keep on pulling all-nighter after all-nighter, taking micro nap sometimes, eating only instant noodles… Finals are really taking a toll on your physical and mental health. And it shows. You also start to get tired and more susceptible.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, Miguel. Not only does he notice all of this but he also tries to help you as much as he can.

He also has to think about his own finals but that doesn’t stop him from texting you every day, making sure you’re eating enough, taking some naps and just to check on you in general. He is not really prone to public displays of affection or such things but he cares. And his way to show it is by his actions, as small as they may seem.

The two of you also had shared study session. It didn’t matter that you had different classes and majors. You would just keep helping each other, exchanging glances from time to time… And each time Miguel would feel you close to falling asleep, he would either tell you to rest or wake you up with a gentle nudge, depending on the time of the day.

Always brings your favorite snacks to make sure you have eaten at least one thing.

He doesn’t say it but you really amaze him. You’re always motivated, determined to do your best no matter what. One would even call you a perfectionist but that doesn’t bother him. He is really supportive of you in everything you make. You got a presentation? He’ll gladly listen to you as if he was your future audience. You could be talking about something he knows nothing about and he would still be 100% invested in your speech, asking questions afterward… You want to write a phd thesis? He got your back. You want to spend more time than it’s necessary on a paper because the topic matters to you? He will proofread you.

Needless to say, you gladly do the same for him. In fact he likes when you ask questions about what he is working on. And it’s actually endearing to see him geek out about things like dark energy, quantum physics and other things that would usually bore you to death.

After every study session, he walks with you to your bus/ subway station. You usually don’t talk much since you are both tired. Sometimes he would take your hand and slips his fingers between yours without saying anything about it.

Always texts you to make sure you did get back home safely.

You can be sure that the last day of your exam (or a few days after if his finals end later), the two of you will have one of your usual date nights.

Depending on how tired he is, he would either cook something or order take out. If he cooks something, you always make sure to bring something of your own. Even if he tells you that you don’t have to, he always ends up eating what you bring because he is a sweet tooth.

You’re usually too tired after finals to do anything else than just sitting on his couch, watching a movie the two of you probably already watched a hundred of times but that doesn’t matter. There’s something comfortable in what’s predictable.

And every part of this evening is predictable. From you falling asleep while the two of you cuddle to him gently playing with your hair in order to keep you awake. If it’s cold outside, you are wrapped under a warm blanket that covers each of your limbs. His hand that holds your waist slowly drifts to your thigh and draws lazy shape over it. He is not even thinking about it; it has become a habit of his.

Just like the way you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck while wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Was it the most comfortable position? Not. Did you care? Also no.

The night would usually end with Miguel having to carry you to bed since you passed out on the couch.

NSFW content ahead

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But sometimes the night would take an unexpected turn. All these days and even weeks spent studying had left the two of you filled with pent-up sexual frustration. And no alone time was the same as the intimacy you guys wanted.

You’re sitting on Miguel’s lap in front of the TV, but none of you are really paying attention to the movie at this point of the night.

He is too distracted by the scent of your hair since your head is so close to his face. His fingers playing with the locks of your hair are not enough for him. He has reached this part of the night where he wants more. He kisses the top of your head in an attempt to test the waters, see if you’re in the same mood.

He would make it look like it’s nothing, or an accident but the two of you know each other too well. After the third kiss, you understand what he has in mind. And you’ve been thinking the same thing all night long, if not longer. These last weeks have been nothing but frustration and you’re more than ready to give in.

You lean further into his embrace, clearly indicating your will to go further. You do this in a nonchalant way, as if it was nothing but he noticed the way your thighs brush against his and how you rest more of your weight near his crotch region.

The hand that was on your lower back supporting you slowly snakes up along your spine until it rests on the back of your neck. His free hand drifts toward your thigh to draw lazy shapes over it. But this time he is deliberately thinking about the moves he makes. His fingertips brush over you as if it was an accident once again, it’s barely a flicker.

The back of his fingers drag along the curve of your thigh, running over your skin until he reaches your knees. He repeats this movement over and over before gripping your thighs more intently. His fingers dig into your flesh, making you feel very aware of his presence behind you. He would usually use his thumb to draw small circles on your inner thigh, eliciting a trail of goosebumps all along.

While the two of you played this little game, you never look at each other. On your side, you still pretend that nothing’s happening, keeping your eyes on the TV but still pushing yourself more against him. He can feel your chest presses against his, your hair brushing his chin and at some point, you’re practically just sitting on his groin.

As the evening goes on, Miguel’s hands get bolder with his actions. He squeezes your thigh from time to time before eventually bringing it under your shirt, avoiding the spot you want him on on purpose. His warm touch on your stomach makes you squirm on top of him. The way your hips shift doesn’t help with his growing erection and his hand on your neck keep you in place, holding you in a careful but firm way.

Without saying a word, his fingertips dance their way over the curve of your belly. He makes sure to trace over the folds of your skin, of every roll on your tummy, to just explore and take in the softness of your belly. He can’t wait for the moment his face will make contact with it. Your skin is too smooth to resist it in his opinion.

You’re a blushing mess at this point and you don’t dare looking at what his hands are doing on you. Your breath gets a little more shallow with every stroke of his on your stomach. He leans closer and brings his face to the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin while making fun of you for not being attentive to the movie playing in the background. When he sees how flustered your are, he decides to act upon it.

“Got something else on your mind?”

You just nod your head and tighten your grip on his shoulder. But he has other plans for you. The hand behind your neck now grabs your waist and makes you sit still over his bulge. Your eyes are on the TV and your mind is on Miguel’s body.

His fingertips brush over your crotch, making you squirm more. Your butt rubs against his crotch and he can’t hide a smile this time. His fingertips barely tap over your crotch before his middle finger rubs over your slit. He then rubs two of his fingers over your groin, pushing his fingers against the fabric of your pants, rubbing his fingers in circle… When he gets too frustrated by the fabric covering you, he asks you if he can just take it off.

“Wanna feel you closer, muñeca...” That’s what he would usually whisper into your ear before kissing your earlobe. You can feel his warm breath, his voice almost shaking with desire as he toys with your zipper. A nod of you and your pants are pulled down your thighs. He doesn’t wait for you to remove them fully or even take off your underwear. His eager finger keeps rubbing you over the fabric of your panties until a damp spot appears in the front.

You lost the count of time as the minutes pass. You’re making a mess of yourself, rubbing yourself on him and when he finally pulls down your underwear and his hand cups your sex, the two of you let out a low moan. His fingers find their way through your bush and he rubs your labia, waiting for you to let him know when you’re ready to take him.

You bite down your lower lip and completely leans back against his body. He wraps his arm around you, holding you tightly and making sure you’re comfortable. Miguel then kisses your cheek. He rubs his nose against your skin, kisses your jawline before nuzzling his face in the crook of your nick, kissing and lapping at your skin.

The movie has already come to an end and in the silence of the room, your moans and Miguel’s heavy breath are the only thing that can be heard. His hooked fingers stimulate your clitoris and when you get comfortable enough, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, almost scissoring you.

He then brings his attention to your clitoris, rubbing it in slow motions. He can feel it throbbing under his fingertips and that makes him moan against the skin of your neck. His warm breath raises all the small hair on your nape and you’re getting hot and bothered. His words aren’t helping either.

“I’ll be damned if I don’t taste you before the end of the night. Been craving this pussy of yours for day now...”

When he catches you trying to relieve yourself of all the tension, he whispers “What are you doing?” There’s no anger in his voice, just pure astonishment. “You know you could just ask…”

The mischief in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you. He likes seeing you this needy and you can feel it. Your body writes on top of him and your shoulders slouch down when you whisper his name. You know what he wants to hear and you finally surrender when the teasing gets too overwhelming. “Please, Miguel…”

Your needy voice gets him to smile again. He leaves an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck before pulling his fingers out. He wouldn’t mind having his way with you here and there but he has more self-control than that. He gently kisses your shoulder before lifting your body up.

He usually carries you to the bedroom, helping you lay down the bed while the two of you undress. When your clothes are discarded on the floor and he is busy looking for the box of condoms in his nightstand, you take a good look at him. You watch his figure being drawn by the shadows in the room and your gaze lingers on his back. From his shoulders to the small of his back, your eyes trail down his spine. You smile when you see his back dimples and he catches you staring.

With a cheeky grin on his face, he gets back on the bed. You’re expecting a kiss but his lips land on your stomach. His face rests against your skin while he kisses you all over the smooth surface of your belly. Maybe it’s the scent of your lotion. Maybe it’s the way he can feel your breath catching up. Maybe it’s how close he is to your arousal and can literally smell it… he doesn’t know exactly what makes him love him love this moment but he never gets tired of kissing you there.

Of course he has to taste you after that. Each of his kisses send an electrifying feeling to your body and you can feel yourself growing more aroused. When he starts eating you out, you wrap your legs around his head and this feeling immediately gets stronger.

One of his hand holds your thigh while the other keeps teasing you. His fingers keep thrusting in and out of you while his tongue focuses on your clitoris, sucking and licking. When he feels you close, he keeps his pace steady, focused on only one thing. You. Your thighs quivering around his face, your hands holding his hair, your soft moans… He has waited too long for that and when you finally relax and release all the pressure inside you, he growls against your lips.

He quickly wipes your juice off his chin and gets up. His body towers over you, watching the aftermath of what he did to you. His thumb rubs over your sticky thighs and with his free hand, he brings his cock closer to you. You can see the red and swollen head of his member rubbing against your clit while a few moans escape his throat. He throws his head backward, his shoulders quivering as he feels himself growing more impatient.

He is still careful when he penetrates you, using a tad of lube to make this easier. And the fun part is that he gets to tease you more while rubbing it over your entrance. You wait patiently, at least you try, with your hands gripping the sheets while he gets you prepped up.

Everything feels worth it as soon as you feel him moving inside of you. He keeps his pace gentle, making the moment last as longs as possible. You’ve both been waiting too long for this for it to end too soon. Your limbs are entangled over the sheets and he melds into you. You brush away a few strands of hair from his face and he leans his cheek into your palm. His lips place a few kisses on your hand and even your wrist.

You both make sure to never break eye contact, reading on the other one’s face his emotions. He can see from your red cheeks and parted lips that you enjoy this moment. With one hand on your cheek, he leans closer and kisses the tip of your nose before whispering sweet nothings to you. It could be about how he likes your scent, your eyes, or even how good you feel wrapped around him…

Your hands travel down his back that you were admiring earlier and grabs his butt cheeks firmly when he starts to fasten his pace. You keep guiding him with not only your expressions but also your words. When he gets closer to his release, his shoulders lock tightly and you can feel every muscle on his body flex.

He is not really vocal in this moment and usually a few groans let you know that he reached his climax. However he likes hearing your small whimpers while your body writhes and arch under him. He watches you reaching your orgasm with a content smile before kissing your forehead, telling you how good you were.

The two of you stay in bed a few minutes after this moment. He doesn’t usually pull out immediately after, letting you feel him inside of your walls as his member gets back to its usual size. Even after that, you’re still locked together in a tight hug. He knows he will have to let you go at some point but for now he just wants to keep you inside his arms as long as he can.

The aftercare can vary depending on your mood. If the two of you are in a good mood or still feeling playful, you keep exchanging a few kisses. Miguel’s fingers keep running over the curves of your body, especially your stomach and your thighs. On your side, you like letting your fingers run down his spine until you reach the small of his back. Your fingers then brush against his skin in slow circles. He both loves and hates when you do that. You know he is very sensitive down there and he can’t hold back a few moans.

Some days he would help you get into your pajamas while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. You don’t speak that much these days but the silence is not awkward. It’s rather comforting. His fingers run down your hair and he can’t help but take in the scent of your curls. He watches you detangle your hair after a long day of work. This has easily become one of his favorite rituals of yours. When you’re done, his fingers run smoothly down your hair and he watches you in awe braid it, helping you when you ask for it. You can be sure that as soon as your nape is exposed, he will kiss it gently.

It usually doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep after this. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, even though he knows you will probably move too much during your sleep for it to be really useful. But he doesn’t care and you nestle yourself against him.

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Note: This was supposed to be really short but I got carried away ToT

Thansk for reading.

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 6

Hello! Welcome to the next installment of my Dracula x Belmont!Reader series! It’s been a while, but its finally here! Reading so many kind comments really helped me push through writing this 💚

It took forever to get this finished. My health has not been doing well with how the weather has been flip flopping the past few weeks. Going from a drought, to rain and heat on and off was not good for me. The rains backed off a bit, so now its just the humid heat i have to deal with ^-^’

I hope you guys enjoy though! To makeup for it, I made this chapter over 6000 words! If you wish to officially be on the tag list, please let me know!

Summary: After waking up and making a chilling discovery, you make the decision to head back home. You try to get into a routine of things, but slowly, you feel as if your life is crumbling apart. For some reason, your only solace seems to be Dracula’s statue and his castle. Dracula meanwhile observes as you seem to be growing worse for wear, a gnawing feeling of dread growing in his gut with each visit.

CW: Toxic and abusive family, mentions of repeating illness, anxiety, mentions of injury, nihilistic thinking.

Word Count: 6196 Words!

Want to help support me? Please consider checking me out here! Link

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Tag List: @starrlo0ver

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You weren’t entirely sure when you began to regain consciousness.

All you really knew was how stiff your body had become, and how tired you still were.

That wasn’t completely it, either. You may still have been tired, but for once in your life? You felt rested.

It had been years since you felt like you had gotten any decent sleep. The fact you actually felt rested, even after the odd dreams you had, was quite the achievement.

Speaking of dreams, you tried desperately to cling to what you remembered as you began to wake.

You didn’t remember much, like what you saw. All you could really remember was what you felt.

A strange warmth, and the feeling of being held. Like someone holding you gently, but unwilling to let go. A warmth you so desperately craved to crawl back to.

Faintly, you could also remember a voice. However, you couldn’t remember what was said. All you could make out was that the person, a man, was trying to get your attention.

It was odd. The more you tried to pay attention, the farther the voice seemed to get. At that moment, it was like everything was slipping through your fingers like water.

You wanted more, but alas, you found yourself waking up against your will.

The carpet was the first thing you noticed, besides how stiff you were. It was fluffy under your touch, and still somehow comfortable. Your fingers curled into the light fuzz as you slowly woke.

Face scrunching up, you let out a groan as a flash of light blipped behind your eyelids, followed by a low rumble of thunder.

Rain? Where were you again?

Mentally, you went through everything in your head, when you suddenly remembered exactly where you were.

You almost sat up when your heart rate spiked, but calmed down as you blinked your eyes open.

Considering you were still alive, and still on the carpet in the main hall, you were most likely fine.

“Ugh… how long was I out…?” You mumbled, and pushed yourself up, trying to blink the fog away in your vision.

“Still, that was one of the best naps I’ve had in- HOLY-“

You couldn’t help but shriek as you scrambled back, falling right back on your ass as you scurried away from the statue.

Said statue had moved.

Dracula no longer had been reaching towards the middle of the room.

Instead, he had been reaching out towards you.

His head had been tilted downward towards you as well. The vampire’s head was looking in your direction, facing the ground where you had been laying.

“What the fuck.” You whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. It was as if you couldn’t move, could hardly breath-

How? How had he moved?

Standing up in a mild panic, you made sure to keep your distance as you eyed the statue warily.

Curious, and a bit frightened, you circled the statue, noting the differences while your hand hovered above your whip.

After examining him for a few minutes, you hesitantly relaxed a bit.

It seemed whatever had happened, Dracula was still cursed. He just somehow managed to move slightly while you were sleeping.

That was a thought that sent chills down your spine.

Still, he hadn’t moved since you woke up, so that was a plus.

It was still incredibly freaky though.

Gathering your courage, you inched a little closer to the statue, and got a better look at his face.

It wasn’t such an angry snarl anymore, more like a look of… desperation? You weren’t entirely sure what to call it.

Thankfully, it at least didn’t look angry. You think.

There was also his hand, it was still outstretched, but…

The hand wasn’t tense, with his claws outstretched. It looked more like he was simply reaching toward you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his body language suggested he wasn’t trying to attack you in your sleep.

Then again… you could be reading too much into it.

Regardless, you couldn’t stop the inkling thoughts that pressed in the back of your mind. As a hunter, you had to be observant, more so than the average person.

Which meant learning body language.

And this just screamed lack of aggression. Interest, but no signs of anger. Not like before.

It… unnerved you. Something that should have at least been a relief, made you incredibly wary.

Why?

Why would he move now? What did you do for him to suddenly do so? Could he move this whole time?

This at least more or less (hopefully) confirmed one thing. He had to be somewhat aware of his surroundings.

You had no idea to what extent he was aware of, but he had to at least be able to see you, given he had been reaching for your sleeping form.

That did raise another question. If he could see, could he hear? Could he feel things through the stone? Could he taste? Smell?

It brought about several questions, and only offered educated guesses at best.

Heaving your chest with a sigh, you pressed a hand against your face, trying to think.

“What am I going to do…?”

At least, a small part of you was somewhat comforted. Chances were, he probably could feel things, not just see things.

If you had attacked him, he would have been forced to watch, and feel as you tried to kill him.

Oh, if that thought didn’t make you feel a little nauseous-

If you had really struck down the statue, he very well could have been hurt, and had been aware and felt it.

Sure, you knew it was a possibility, but actually confronting that thought now that you knew he was somewhat alive? It made your palms feel clammy.

“So… you are alive… I’m… not crazy.” You mumbled at the statue. His face was still turned downward, but if this was true, he was hearing your every word.

Carefully, you lowered yourself to your knees, and looked at his face once more.

He… looked so… intense? Desperate?

You wouldn’t say that outloud, but it also felt odd to refer to him as such. The King of the Night, looking so determined while reaching for you.

Without thinking, you found yourself reaching forward to cup his face. Before you could even make contact, you froze, before pulling your hand away.

No. Bad idea. Why would you do that.

Last thing you needed was showing any affection and getting attached.

That was like a number one rule. Never get attached until you know damn sure whatever you want to get close to won’t hurt you.

With another sigh, you rubbed your temples.

What would you do now? Leave?

It wasn’t like you really had a choice. You had been here for who knows how long, and no doubt you’d have to deal with a pissed off step father the longer you stayed.

But could you just leave him here like this?

You wanted to curse. This was the same damn dilemma you had been dealing with ever since you first saw this stupid castle. You were getting tired of fighting yourself in your head over all of this.

Reluctantly, you stood up, catching yourself as you wobbled a bit on your feet.

“Seems I still have a lot of resting to do…” you mumbled as your vision spun just slightly.

Yeah, you were definitely still a little sick, but you were feeling leagues better than you were a few days ago.

“I… I gotta get home soon.” You muttered, holding your head in one of your hands.

Silently, you looked over at the statue again before turning to leave.

“I’ll… I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

It was weird. Everything was weird. Now that the statue seemingly was noticeably alive, you felt different on how to approach and act around it.

Though maybe you shouldn’t act different?

More and more thoughts swam in your head as you groaned. No, you did not need to do more mental gymnastics.

Carefully, you began to leave the throne room, noting how heavy the atmosphere had become. Depressing? Frustrated? You couldn’t place it, but you certainly related to the feeling.

You didn’t notice the eyes barely managing to tun upward to watch you leave.

As you made your slow descent through the castle, you fought back an ever growing headache as you thought about your situation.

Something that was becoming more common than you’d like to admit.

If Dracula really was somewhat alive, you couldn’t help but sympathize for the guy. It had been a few decades since he had been sealed, around 20 something years.

No doubt he was going mad. You were probably the most interesting thing he has seen in the past decade or two.

Even if you were his enemy.

But… were you? Now that you had not attacked him? He sure didn’t seem like he was trying to attack you in your sleep.

“Ugh. I need another nap.” You mumbled as you walked out of the castle and towards your cabin.

You had a lot of catching up to do.

-

The day after you had gone back to your cabin, you decided to return back home. You dreaded doing so, but unfortunately you had very little choice in the matter.

The messages you received from your ‘family’ were, as usual, annoying and endless. It was only a matter of time before they started destroying your things again for staying away too long.

Thankfully, the stars were shining on you today, as no one was home when you returned. It was easy to sneak a bit of food and hide away in your room.

You wish you could say that they ignore you as usual after they all realized you were back.

Alas, things never seem to go your way.

Your step father had gotten somewhat physical with you again after he arrived home, your two step brothers watching from the doorway.

He had yelled, even gripping your hair and throwing you hard. You hit the edge of the bed frame, but thankfully had dealt with worse.

Though you’d admit, the concussion you had gotten from it was already a pain in the ass.

He wasn’t finished though, and made sure to yell at you some more. At that point though, you simply just let his angry words flow in one ear and out the other.

It ended with a sharp kick to your ribs, which genuinely took you off guard. Your step father never took it this far before outside of ‘training’, and he wasn’t holding back.

Thankfully, he seemed fed up enough with your presence to leave you be. He shoved past his sons, slamming the door behind him as you gasped for air.

You had managed to crawl to your drawers, and take care of the wound on your head. You also decided to count yourself lucky he didn’t seem to break your ribs, just bruise them.

After the pain subsided, you crawled onto your bed, shaking as you thought about everything.

What was your life turning into? Did your step father really not care about crossing that line? It certainly seemed so.

You weren’t looking forward to the future, if this is what was promised.

-

Unfortunately, your fears were turning out to be true when it came to your home life.

Your ‘sweet loving family’ were growing more and more violent, toeing that line with how far they can get away with their behavior until you snapped.

But you couldn’t.

The moment you fought back, was all the excuse they needed to kick you out, and take everything you owned. Everything that was rightfully yours, would fall right into their hands.

The perfect excuse to anyone related to you by blood why the family artifacts were no longer theirs.

Your legacy, your mother’s things, your family’s artifacts… all gone, to someone not even in the family by blood. That alone was dangerous, some artifacts only resonated kindly with your family’s blood.

Hell, your whip was one of those very artifacts. Its one reason you never parted from it, making sure they never had the chance to swipe it from under your nose.

Not to mention the weapons and powerful tomes hidden in the family vault. In the wrong hands? Your step family could rival vampire lords with how dangerous they could become.

What a nuisance.

You knew they would take advantage of it too. It’s the whole reason they were trying to get you to attack them, or ‘give’ them everything by your own free will.

They wanted everything. The power, the artifacts, the riches… they wanted all they could get their hands on. All while looking completely innocent so they’d have an excuse if anyone inquired about it

And it seemed they were willing to raise the stakes to get it.

Despite your step father seemingly growing more physical, he still seemed to prefer to hover and threaten you, rather than just straight up brawl with you.

He seemed irritated. Impatient. He was cracking, but still trying to remain in control.

It made you fear what reaching his breaking point would be. What would finally break the dam that was slowly showing its cracks?

At least when he tried to hurt you, it was brief. Like a warning and a threat.

It wasn’t as… rough as that first night you came back, either. More like purposeful shoves, the occasional hit to your back or stomach. Sometimes your arms. He never hit you again after an initial assault, but the threat was very much there.

If he didn’t hit you, he would slam tables and walls next to you. Slam doors in your face, toss chairs. He even threw some old plates, ruining a set your great grandmother had passed down.

That had been a rough night for you, realizing they were willing to destroy stuff from your family without thought.

Then there were the bouts of sickness you were experiencing.

Just like when you had been at the cabin, you were constantly falling ill.

It was random when it would happen, and the severity of each bout of sickness seemed to vary, but it was beginning to drive you insane.

Sometimes you would just get extreme migraines. Other times you were stuck in the bathroom for days nearly unable to move.

If it was a rough week, you were then banished to the car. No one in the house wanted to catch whatever was making you so violently ill, if by chance it was contagious.

Occasionally one of your brothers would take pity, and toss you some bread or a bottle of water and some gas station medicine. Most of the time though, you were on your own, trying not to puke your guts out for days on end.

It was beginning to affect your overall health. How could you go back to being in a healthy state of being if you were getting sick right after feeling better? How would you be able to keep up being a hunter if you were becoming a liability?

You were beginning to wonder if you were shutting down. The thought made you fear for yourself often when alone with your thoughts.

It was beginning to remind you of your mother, how she had fallen ill…

This made you miserable.

More than once, you ended up silently crying into your pillow in your room. You hadn’t cried in so long, but now it was hard not to after dealing with so much shit.

The one saving grace you had was your laptop, and sneaking away to visit the cabin.

Watching the castle on your cameras late at night brought you solitude, it helped calm your mind when you were overwhelmed. Even if it was just scrubbing through hours of nothing, just watching the castle seemed to put you at an odd sort of ease.

If you weren’t terrified of your step brothers or step father destroying the laptop, or finding out about the castle, you’d probably even use it as white noise to sleep when at home.

An idea you would have laughed at if you told yourself a year earlier.

You? Enjoying the ambience outside Dracula’s castle? You would have attacked whoever told you so, thinking they were trying to mess with your mind.

Now though, it was an odd comfort.

When you did sneak off to the cabin, you would leave the laptop on to listen. The oddly quiet atmosphere with the occasional clap of thunder had you sleeping in minutes.

Something most hunters would scoff at. Most can’t sleep through thunder and lightning, but the atmosphere had put you at ease.

It should bug you how much you were growing comfortable with the Master of the Night and his ominous abode.

But you were beginning to care less and less.

So what if you liked the castle? Liked visiting the Lord of the Night? It’s not like he had moved from his place since you slept on the floor.

The only discernible difference was the occasional movement in his eyes. Something that freaked you out a bit at first whenever you noticed it, whenever it rarely happened.

You and him weren’t hurting anyone, and you were still able to keep an eye on him.

Though your increase in trips were becoming a slight problem.

It was a getaway, and it angered your step family horribly.

You weren’t sure why they cared so much. They always talked about how if you didn’t exist they would have been better off. Surely being out of the house would be a relief.

Yet, whenever you went on a trip and came home, they always seemed angry, and not because you came back. They were angry you left.

It was all getting overwhelming. You felt like you were losing your mind. Why would they care so much, when it was blatantly clear they couldn’t care less about your well being?

The bizarre behavior only served to push you away even more. Why bother with their behavior when you could just vanish for a few days, even if it restarted this stupid cycle?

It only drove it further in your head that you were feeling trapped.

But once again, you at least had your sanctuary. Even if your comfort with the place had shifted so much the past few weeks, it was growing back to what it originally had been.

A sanctuary. A safe place from home.

Your visits with the statue had also changed as a result.

At first, you were hesitant on how to act. Should you be more wary? Closed off?

But when you took a trip back again after that time you had been sick, you decided to just roll with the punches.

He already saw you sick, and sleeping. Did it really matter at this point? As long as you were polite, you didn’t see a reason to behave any differently. He was still technically your host, after all.

If anything, you were more relaxed than ever.

After you had thought about it, the idea that Dracula was aware had somewhat been a weight off your shoulders.

He had already seen you as a mess. You didn’t have to play up any pretenses.

You also found that he was easy to talk to. It wasn’t on purpose, you just started talking on your visits.

At first, it was to fill the awkward silence. You talked about little things that had happened. Some silly hunts you had, and world events that had happened since he had been sealed away.

Though you began to wonder just how close you were getting to your family’s immortal enemy, when you started sleeping on his throne room floor on purpose.

Sometimes you’d find you talked too long, and it was late in the night. You started making the decision to sleep there every so often.

You never slept as close as you did the first time, still wary to a fault.

The statue didn’t move like the first time, though you swore the eyes followed you sometimes when awake. They would be in different places every so often.

You knew they were when you slept. It was… stirring confusing feelings in you, so you tried not to think on it too much.

It would have made you nervous if you hadn’t already spent so much time with him. You just wrote it off as a little quirk.

How fitting. The Statue of the Lord of the Castle, being able to watch your every move like in a cartoon or horror movie. It would be creepy if you didn’t find some odd comfort in it.

You later on ended up even searching your family home a little, curious if you could break the curse yourself.

‘It’s just in case,’ You would tell yourself.

As much as you wanted to deny it though, you knew you were curious. How you wondered if you had a means of breaking the curse, even though your own family placed it on him.

Would you actually do so? Probably not, even if the thought made you a bit sad.

Something you were a bit unsure and uncomfortable about. Were you really that lonely that you briefly thought about what it would be like to talk to him while free?

Yes, yes you were.

But you had a duty to uphold. Setting Dracula free could have so many consequences.

You also didn’t want to misread this.

Just because you felt comfortable at the castle, and in his presence, did not mean there wasn’t a chance he would kill you.

Your family was still his enemy, after all. He technically never agreed to just talk with you after you decided to spare him as a statue.

You didn’t want to get killed, and possibly doom the world over your silly delusions of maybe having a friend in the enemy.

There was something odd though about the whole curse.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t find much on it. You could only sneak into the family vault so often. You didn’t want to risk your family demanding you let them in again, or try and follow you. Again.

Even then, the few times you did manage to sneak into the vault, you didn’t manage to find much. Even when looking at the journals of each Belmont, all you really found was mentions of a spell, and a curse.

The last Belmont to fight Dracula, your grandfather, didn’t mention much about it. How he and his friend had used an old spell they had found to seal the Vampire away.

You found it convenient that you couldn’t find much about what the spell actually was.

By convenient, you actually mean annoying.

What if you needed to seal him away again? Or something went wrong?

Not a lot of planning on your grandfather’s end if he really didn’t leave any information behind.

That wasn’t even the worst of it either.

Apparently, there was a curse of some sort Dracula had placed on your family when your Grandfather had fought him. However, your grandfather refused to mention what it was, or what it entailed. All his journal mentioned was that a curse ‘existed’.

That certainly didn’t ramp up any lingering anxiety. Thanks grandpa.

Briefly, you wondered if this was why he was always so distant with you, and your extended blood related family. Perhaps he thought it would be less effective if no one really knew about it.

You had half a mind to call him and demand what it was, but that would only create a massive beacon towards the fact the enemy he sealed away had been found again after the castle initially disappeared.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Something that still surprised you to think and say.

Still, the frustration, added along with the stress and sickness you were dealing with, were not mixing well at all. You were this close to tearing your hair out.

But you didn’t.

You held yourself together. You were at least thankful for your hunting experience. Without it, you wouldn’t have been able to keep a steady head in all this for as long as you have.

Still, even now as you warily watch your back just walking to your car for a hunt, you knew one thing was for sure.

Wherever calm resides, chaos is sure to follow.

You wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever.

—

Vlad prided himself on being a man of many things.

He was Lord of the Night, the King of Vampires.

He also considered himself a man of science, a title he wielded, long before he had even turned his back on god.

His prowess with magic was also something he considered himself a master of. He took to magic much like alchemy, though it helped he had centuries to learn and practice all he could.

That, and having the Crimson Stone and Death itself under his thumb was a boon for him. He had little to worry about when he had been young, so he had time to master anything that caught his fancy.

As time passed, and his interest in revenge and humanity had first diminished, he had even taken up other hobbies.

Renaldo, his old friend, may have been an old fool. However, he had been right about one thing.

Eternal life could be incredibly dull.

Vlad took to learning many different things and trades. He excelled as a tactician, so he also took on learning different means of battle and war.

It came in handy when dealing with armies of the damned.

Helping lead an army of crusaders had been one thing, but armies of hell's bloodiest fighters? It had been a whole new experience, one he easily took to.

Though after he had firmly set his place in the underworld, and proven he was far superior to any other vampire, life grew dull once more.

So he collected books. He had always enjoyed them, much to the chagrin of the church when he had been human.

They always said his time was better spent strategizing. If he must read, it was better spent on reports, or looking into ways to counter the enemy.

Vlad had barely gotten a chance to read for enjoyment as a human. When he had been Mathias.

As Dracula, he had all the time in the world. No one dared oppose him, even just to read a book or novel.

He had even taken the time to write and bind his own collection. Something only a select few close to him had known about.

So for all of his achievements, being killed over and over again, and then being turned into stone, was very much a slap to the face.

It was a huge blow to his pride and ego, though he had reluctantly begun to accept he was not on fate’s side when it came to the damned Belmont clan.

Being turned into a statue though? It was one of the lowest blows to him of all time. He would rather be prowling around in purgatory or hell, waiting to eventually be revived against his will, than be stuck as stone for several decades.

But, there was an upside.

You.

Vlad had mentally scoffed when he first saw you. He went through this whole song and dance in his head.

How you no doubt would be the one to free him. How you seemed so pathetic. So weak.

He didn’t find himself thinking such thoughts anymore.

Vlad wondered if he truly was growing to like your presence, or if being stuck in his own personal hell as stone was finally catching up to him.

Had he really gone mad from being stuck like this for so long? To the point he liked a Belmont?

Yes, he was a prideful man indeed, but even he could admit at this point that he was beginning to enjoy and look forward to your visits.

You truly were nothing like the previous Belmonts that had slain him. He really could see Leon in you, when he had assumed the bloodline had changed for the worst.

He liked you.

Would he admit it outloud? Probably not. But to himself in his mind, while stuck here? He didn’t see why he should deny it any longer.

Perhaps humanity still occasionally produced a diamond in the rough.

Vlad yearned for your presence. After those first few times, and he had caught glimpses of your personality and kindness, he craved to see you more.

He did partially blame that on being stuck like this for so long. However, he did genuinely wish to see you.

After he watched you grow ill the first time, is especially when it became difficult to deny he had at least somewhat grown attached after anxiety bubbled in his chest.

When you returned, the relief he felt had even surprised himself.

You had looked bad when you had stumbled out of his castle. It was another instance where he feared the time had come for his curse to take hold.

Yet, you managed to make it back wherever you were residing. You must have, because you came wandering back a few days later.

Your skin had sunken in, and you looked like you hadn’t slept in a week.

He must have been right, assuming you had been sick. Whatever you had must have been rough on you.

Vlad watched as you walked in, apologizing, talking with him for a while. It was even dare he say, cute, how you were still a little skittish. Still instinctively wary of him, but didn’t seem afraid. It was amusing in a way that would have had him teasing you if he could.

He listened as you spoke that visit, before you had gotten comfortable.

When you fell asleep though, he was a bit surprised, but he didn’t blame you. Even though you looked like you had some energy, you still looked like you needed rest.

It was strange.

For the first time in a long time, he felt warm, seeing you curl up close to his feet.

He doubted you fully trusted him, but when was the last time someone had done something so… gentle? Letting their guard down around him without fear, like he was another person?

It had been centuries, at least.

Did you really feel that comfortable? Or at least assured he could not hurt you?

He wouldn’t of course, not without cause.

Vlad watched you curl up, your body going still as your breathing evened out. You were out like a light.

You looked so peaceful sleeping. When you were awake, even when still sick, you were constantly on guard.

Sleeping however, your body relaxed, and you had a small smile on your face. He wondered what your genuine smiles looked like. Were they similar?

Dracula cursed his prison. He cursed your predecessor.

But not you. No, you hadn’t done anything wrong.

He wanted out. Wanted to talk with you. Meet with you formally and personally, not as he was now.

It was as if he felt his undead heart beat in excitement at the thought. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

That nearly made him pause. Just what were you doing to him? How was this grip you had over him growing so strong?

You hadn’t even done anything, except show him some basic kindness and mercy. He should hate you.

But as he has sat here and thought about it, dwelling on it, he finds he has no reason to.

Besides your bloodline, of course, but he didn’t always hate the Belmonts either. That would just be an excuse at this point.

He wanted to talk with you though. That promise you had made, of wanting to talk with him if he was freed… he wanted that. He yearned to be able to speak properly with you, let you know he was listening.

There was something about you. How you talked about your family, how you carried yourself. The way you still gave him respect, despite at one point had been terrified for your life.

You were fascinating. Vlad didn’t care if he was a broken record, but you were one hunter he wanted to learn about.

No doubt you had interesting stories and viewpoints. He’d love to hear them all.

The more he thought of it, the more he desired to be free. To move.

Dracula wanted to move. To talk. To touch.

You laying in front of him only made that urge, that desire, run hotter.

Your body was right there. He could have almost touched you. Feel you. Shake you awake.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Vlad moved.

It should have been impossible. He was well versed in what spell had been used on him, even if it had been modified to contain someone like him. The only thing that should have been able to make him move was blood from you or your family.

Yet, he moved.

Determined, he used this stroke of luck to push forward, bit by bit. He was so close to you, it wasn’t impossible to reach you.

It was tantalizing, and took so much power to keep going.

But he had to reach you. Touch you. Speak with you. It was as if that very desire was allowing him to keep going, to move another inch.

He was so close! Just a little further!

Before he could reach you, and cup your face, your eyes fluttered open.

You mumbled something under your breath, before jumping back in a squawk of surprise.

Had he really moved that close? Was it that noticeable?

It had to have been, with how alert you had appeared. You hardly seemed to believe that he had been able to do so.

But now that you were awake… it had been near impossible to get that same focus he once had. He wanted to curse and yell.

So close.

You kept your distance at first, confused and a bit wary.

After that, you surprised him by seemingly letting your guard down more.

In fact, you were more chatty than normal. It was like you were at ease with him, as if he were a nice acquaintance instead of an enemy.

What had changed? Had he startled you that much?

Or… perhaps by moving, you had a realization? You were acting more like he was in the room with you than before. Had that been a wake up call for you?

Vlad found that he didn’t particularly mind.

He would silently admit he liked it even.

You spoke about anything and everything.

Normally, Vlad could not have cared less over the little lives of humans, only checking in if there were wars or major events in the making.

But he couldn’t help but listen, captivated by anything you spoke about.

Sometimes you spoke about current events. Other times you occasionally talked about your hunts or home life, though he noticed how you held back when speaking about personal things.

He wasn’t blind to how your demeanor changed when you mentioned your home life. Alas, he couldn’t ask more about it given his current state.

It didn’t change how he couldn’t fight the bubbling worry that tried to blossom when you seemed pained when talking about it.

In fact, he was growing rather concerned with each visit at this point as well.

He enjoyed your visits immensely, enjoying hearing you talk, even if it was about darker subjects.

However, after a bit of time, he noticed how your visits were becoming a bit sporadic. Normally, it would be no business of his what your schedule was like.

But Dracula was a smart man. He was well known for his observations and keen eye over the centuries.

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t just the odd air around you when you briefly mentioned your home life, or the odd inconsistency of the visits.

No, what was beginning to concern him was how you came back injured, more often than not.

Or sick. You were rapidly falling ill time and time again. This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.

He knew you were a hunter and all, but this was getting ridiculous.

You often tried to hide it too, though he had a feeling some of it wasn’t intentional, as if this was practiced. A learned habit.

Even if you tried to hide your injuries, you couldn’t escape his keen eye.

A wobble here, a stumble there. Favoring one arm over the other just ever so slightly.

You didn’t make it easy, but he could still spot those injuries clear as crystal.

It was happening at a higher frequency with every other visit, until you were sick or injured every time you visited the castle.

If Dracula could hum and fidget, he would be.

He didn’t like this, not one bit.

At this rate, as time went on, Vlad couldn’t help but grow weary.

Given his luck and experience, it was only a matter of time until something went wrong

He was sure of it.

[sublieu]

HEY SO I HAVE A REQUEST- this actually my first time requesting so sorry if its bad lol I'm trying my hardest So, I really liked your somnophillia fanfic thingy, and I was wondering how it would be with Sun wukong? Like if he's been thinking about doing something like that to you in your sleep and one day he's like "fuck it" and fucks you in your sleep? It sounds like it'd be super interesting lol

╰┈➤Somnophilia

: ̗̀➛ Consensual somnophilia, major crying from Wukong, comfort smut, soft lovemaking

: ̗̀➛ 644 wc

: ̗̀➛ the look I had on my face when I read this request. Also the male ver is currently in the making so don't start with me

He yawned as he walked in the house, stretching and scratching his head as he walked over to the couch, ready to fall asleep until he realized you already took his spot.

Your robe barely hid your curves and love handles. the wine glass rested on the soft grey rug. From the looks of it, you fell asleep around an hour ago.

Wukong turned around in the couch and pulled your legs around his waist, Unbuckling his pants and taking off his battle uniform as his tail flicked violently, touching at any open space it could reach. From your legs to underneath your dress. Turns out you were waiting for him as you weren't even wearing panties. Giving him a subtle sign you'd be ok with it.

He stared with tired, lustful eyes. Eying down your sleeping figure like a piece of meat; Pumping his cock a few times before bottoming out inside of you whilst giving you lazy, hard thrusts.

He lowly purred as you subconsciously squeezes around him. His and your juices leaking onto his couch as he tried his hardest to not wake you up. Which he failed as you were slowly waking up from the jerky movements.

You look up to see your boyfriend, putting your body in a mating press as he hid his face from you, thinking he blew it. But all you did was ask for him to look at you, gifting him a forehead kiss saying it was ok. Which he was oh so thankful for and started thrusting faster.

Soft coos and purrs left your tongues as you embraced each other's warmth, too busy enjoying each other's company to really care about the world and its troubles.

The room felt hot, boiling even. From not being able to bask in your warmth had him in a shaken up state. It had been weeks since he last saw you and it grew unbearable till then.

He'd whisper on how sorry he was, Sorry about leaving you alone for so long, sorry about not even astroprojecting to even contact you. God he just felt so guilty he even started crying. Hiding his face in your chest as he quietly cried.

You'd pet his hair and keep reminding him that it was ok, you understood he could be busy with his tasks so you weren't mad at all for even you had to leave for days at a time.

After consoling him, he still kept going. Obviously feeling bad for waking you up. So of course he had to fix that, by going slow; kissing and whispering to each other whilst his cock started quivering, his tail flicking all over the place as your climax was coming in soon.

God how he adored you, so sweet and compassionate, you would always make him hide his face in embarrassment from how adorable you were, and how much you meant to him; After being alone up in that mountain for centuries it really did a number on his mental health. If anything being alone made things a living hell for him.

But now you were here to warm his sheets, to help him get over his traumas and fears. To give him the true affection he needed for himself. And he will never forget what you did for him.

Wukong started crying again as he came inside, thrusting his love even deeper inside you as you came around his cock as well. Sharing a kiss before falling flat on the couch and heaving. Mostly from sweat and how warm the night seemed.

He'd look back at you, giving you one final kiss before falling asleep on your chest as you yawned and played with his hair. Seeing a small smile form on his face as his purrs became louder before falling asleep as well. The sun slowly creeping around the corner as some breeze finally came through.

Maybe you'll clean up later...yea...maybe later

©️𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[neonacity]

BLOOD RED | CH.3 | HAECHAN X READER

Summary: You’re a forensic psychiatrist assigned to one of the country’s high-profile criminals. You want to unravel him, but he’s set on catching you in his web instead.

Characters: Haechan, Reader, Jungwoo, Johnny

Warnings: crimes, blood, weapons, toxic dynamics, psychological themes, personality disorder, mental health disorder, dissociative identity disorder, smut (fingering, F receiving). Please, please, please, do not interact if you are a minor.

This work is not meant to romanticize any personality disorders or toxic dynamics. Also, I am not a trained psychologist or medical professional so there might be inconsistencies on some of the scientific things here. Most medical references mentioned, however, are based on the book “The Minds of Billy Milligan” which is based on a true story. This is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2

The bitterness of the last few drops of coffee spread on your tongue like poison. You looked at the flimsy paper cup with a frown—as if it was its fault you'd downed the rest of its contents—before crumpling and throwing it to the bin beside you. Your eyes were heavy and yet your mind was in overdrive—as if you weren't running on two hours of sleep today, just like how you were yesterday and many nights before that.

You can remember the first time the nightmares started coming.

The feeling was similar to being slowly being undone, as if your seams are on the verge of falling apart any moment. You couldn't understand the cause of it...

It was two weeks ago when things slowly started turning for the worse. You couldn't remember the last time you've had such vivid dreams before, but you knew—the moment you woke up with pure fear sitting at the back of your throat that night—that what you had was out of the norm. Frustratingly, you couldn't remember much of your nightmare the moment you opened your eyes, but you could tell from the way your heart thundered in your chest and the cold sweat that soaked you that some switch has been flipped inside of you. You remember voices, but not their words, and a part of your fear-fogged brain could still draw up silhouettes that were too hazy for you to make out. For the next few days the nightmares would come and go, leaving you shaking in fear from something you don't even know every single time.

Or maybe you do. You're just too afraid to admit what it is.

The sudden sharp knock from your door made you almost jump from your seat. Your surprise must have been so obvious, because the moment you turned around, you caught the look of obvious worry on Jungwoo's face. Clearing your throat, you decided to quickly gloss over your reaction before he could even have the chance to point it out.

"Hey. What are you still doing here?"

Your friend strolled inside and gave you a look that made you shift your eyes away from him. He stopped just beside your table while you tried to busy yourself in fixing the messy folders cluttering your desk.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been pulling so many long hours lately."

"I'm just taking care of a couple of things."

"Is the 'couple of things' the Lee kid's case?"

You hate the way your hand froze in the middle of picking up something. It was a quick slip, but it was enough to catchJungwoo's sharp, observant gaze. Pointedly, you pushed through the roughness in your throat and tried to divert the conversation to safer grounds.

"I'm fine. This is the first time I've ever handled a case like this so I'm just a little bit more fixated than usual. You have to understand, I don't even know if I'll ever come across someone like him again."

Jungwoo gave you a look that told you he wasn't buying any of what you were saying.

"That's bullshit and you know it. Have you taken a look at yourself lately?" He paused, his jaw ticking as if he was stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't. You couldn't bear to look at him, knowing exactly where the conversation was going.

"This case is consuming you. He is consuming you. I'm worried that this is becoming an obsession."

You tried to push back the bitter taste at the back of your mouth. Your stomach had turned into knots and for a second, you actually thought you were slipping from reality. Jungwoo put into words what you couldn't—and what you refused to acknowledge—but hearing it straight from him felt like an actual punch in the gut. You barely realized you have been shaking in your seat until you felt the warmth of his hands covering yours.

"You need to stop…"

"I can't."

"Why?" He frowned, concern evident in his voice. His hold on you tightened when he felt your hands tremble more in his grip.

"I don't know," your voice finally caught as you looked at him helplessly. "Jungwoo, I've tried. I tried stopping, believe me, but I can't. He is everywhere, even in my sleep. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm terrified. I can't get rid of him. It's like… he's inside me."

The punctuated silence that followed after your confession was almost physically painful. Jungwoo took a while before he spoke again, his steady on you as if he's trying to dig through whatever it is that was festering inside your head. The dead air in the room became unbearable, and it's only until you've started feeling the dull pain of your blunt nails digging against your palms that he decided to reply again.

"We're taking you off the case. I'm calling the headquarters right now."

Your head shot up so fast as he started pulling away from you. Quickly, you scrambled for his hands again as if they were your lifeline.

"What—W-Wait, Jungwoo, please. You can't do that."

"I can and I will. I can't just stand around watching you like this. I don't know what the hell that boy is doing to you, but I'm not letting him lay another finger on you."

"Okay. I understand. Y-You can call them. But can you do it tomorrow? It's late. I can—I can give my own supporting testimonial if they want to. But—let's just do it tomorrow, okay? Please?"

The fear and desperation in your chest was almost making you gag. The still rational part of your mind was trying to connect the dots to understand why you are acting this way, but the choking feeling consuming you was overriding any sort of logic left in you. You knew Jungwoo was right. You probably look like an addict being threatened off his source of heroin right now, but you didn't care. All you know is that cutting lines from that boy would make you drown more in whatever murky mess you're swimming in at the moment.

What the hell are you doing?

The voice in your head reflected the same look of confusion that Jungwoo gave you. You honestly have no idea why you blurted that or what you were even trying to do, but you've gotten to a point where you've let your impulses finally take over. Despite yourself, you were able to gather the little control you have and gave the man a convincing look. You squeezed his hand, your eyes determined but pleading.

"Please, Jungwoo?"

A shadow of something passed his gaze. You couldn't exactly point out what it was, but you were relieved that you sound like your old self again. He also probably noticed, because he gave you a small nod after a few more beats of silence.

"First thing tomorrow… okay?"

"Yes… I promise."

"Good. You should go home and take a re—"

"Wait," you tugged at his hand to gently cut him off. His brows slightly shot up at the action, surprised by it.

"Can I sleep in your house tonight?"

His lips parted in confusion.

"What?"

"I've been jittery because I've been losing sleep. I've tried everything. I think having someone with me will help me relax better. Calm down my anxiety…"

"Don't you have… someone who can help you out? That man you went out with?"

"He's nice, but he's a stranger. I would feel more comfortable with my best friend," you said, almost way too smoothly. "Please, Woo? Just like the old times…?"

You saw the way his jaw tightened again as you trailed off. The strange shadow in his eyes flickered once more, except this time, you have half an idea of what could be behind them. After a long pause, he finally sighed and looked away as he ran his hands through his hair.

"Fine. That will be easier for us to call the headquarters tomorrow. Come on. I think you still have a few things in my apartment.”

Your smile didn't betray the erratic beating of your heart. You squeezed his hand before finally letting it go.

"Thank you. I owe you one."

*******

You have no idea what time it is when you finally decided to crack your eyes open. The room was pitch black, so it took your vision a couple of seconds to make out the glow-in-the-dark hands of the clock nailed to the wall. 2:55 AM. If luck's on your side, you can pull off this stupid plan of yours without setting off something.

Carefully, you moved your head to the side without rustling the covers around you too much. You couldn't really see Jungwoo's face, but you made sure to closely listen to the sounds of his breathing to check if he is already deep in sleep. For a good ten seconds you just watched him, making sure that he really is out, before you slowly started peeling the duvet off of you so you could get up from the bed. You winced in discomfort the moment your bare feet touched the cool marble floor of the room, but you decided to push on and forego slippers to mask your steps. Your heartbeat was drumming so hard against your ribcage that you almost feared Jungwoo could hear it, but that didn't stop you from feeling your way out of the room in the dark. You had to thank your muscle memory, because you were able to navigate to the door without hitting anything or tripping over yourself.

The stiffness that has climbed up to your neck has lifted a little when you finally managed to step into the hallway. Allowing yourself a soft sigh of relief, you didn't waste any time after to go to the small study that Jungwoo uses as his home office. If there's one thing about your friend that you are a hundred percent sure of, it's that he is a big sucker for organizing things. So if you're going to be snooping around his files, you're sure you will all find them in one place and one place only.

You weren't disappointed when you finally managed to crack open the door at the end of the hallway. Not wanting to risk it by opening a light, you moved quickly towards the table where a laptop is and quickly tried to revive its screen. It was passport protected as you expected, but the light from it now bathed the pile of folders filed neatly beside it. You quickly grabbed for them with shaking hands and opened them one by one to check their contents.

You were on the verge of giving up when your hands finally froze and hovered over the last file. Slowly, you read the words typed on the first page under the blue light of the screen.

If you're going to be honest, you don't exactly know what you are trying to look for. Your gut feel tells you that there is something and that you are close, but your disappointment grew by the second as you realized that all the folders you went through are the same ones that have already been given to you. Could it really be possible that you're simply paranoid? Was Jungwoo correct after all about this case affecting you so much that you are slowly losing grip in reality?

Case 04532

Status: Unclosed

Year: 2018.  

File Record: Alias, The Apothecarist

You frowned at the lines of text in confusion. Your first thought was that Jungwoo might just have misplaced the folder and placed it in the pile of Haechan’s records, but you knew for a fact that he is not assigned to any other case at the moment. Slowly, you turned to the other pages, hoping that something there might give you a clue about what exactly you’re looking at.

A minute of fast skimming gave you a quick review of the case. From the year 2015 to 2018, a serial offender given the alias of The Apothecarist supposedly committed no less than 50 crimes across the city and its closest neighboring areas. The person’s signature offense was through poisoning, supposedly using a combination of lead, arsenic, and still unknown herbal blends to kill their targets. However, other unverified crimes were also connected to the suspect, with the police believing that the person’s mastery in mixing chemicals also extended their talents to creating bombs and other explosives. In 2018, after a particularly large fire that injured dozens and killed many, all the crimes came to a sudden halt. To this day, no leads about the serial offender have ever been found.

Your mind slowly processed the information as your eyes continued to skim over the pages. Nothing still makes sense to you, not until your gaze landed on the list of dates the crimes were supposedly done. You paused. 2018… Four years ago. Slowly, things started moving in your head as a cold feeling made its way up your spine.

Four years ago, Haechan was eighteen years old… The same age Donghyuck supposedly started with his crimes.

It felt like time started moving slowly for you afterwards. Your frozen fingers went back a couple of pages so you could read again the list of crimes that happened during the three year period. Large scale poisoning… Arson. Bombing to the point of total incineration. All victims died without blood mainly because nothing much was left of them in the first place. Even the poisoning cases could have been easily disguised as a random heart attack.

"Do you like blood?"

"I'm not particularly against it."

"Is that why you committed three arson cases, four bombings, and ten mass cyanide crimes across the city?"

"Princess, none of those drew any blood, but if you're asking that question to confirm my love for violence, then yes, I did them all."

Your head was reeling. A dull ringing has already started at the back of your head when you pulled Haechan's file and went straight to the page that lists his own crimes. When you focused on the dates, it felt like you finally closed your fingers on the missing piece that you've been desperately trying to fumble for in the dark.

The years are different, but each and every recorded attack that Donghyuck confessed to happened on the same date that The Apothecarist did theirs. Even the nature of the crime was almost similar—like a well-made replica of another maestro's work. When your gaze landed on the date of the first crime ever recorded under Donghyuck's name, you swore you stopped breathing.

It was exactly a month after The Apothecarist's last and biggest crime… also done on the same day and almost in the same manner. The pattern says it all. It was a continuation of an unfinished work, a struggling effort to keep an obra maestra from entirely dying. 

Donghyuck is not the master of Haechan.

Because he's been under the influence of someone else all along.

*******

You tried your best to keep your gait steady as you passed through the heavy metal gates of the prison. You have no idea whether Jungwoo called the headquarters already to officially take you off the case, but the guards barely even looked your way when you told them that you're here for another interview. In fact, the pair currently flanking the main entrance didn't even miss a beat in getting back to their card game when you told them you wanted the session to be entirely private. Their lack of blatant care told you that it might be Haechan that they escorted today. Or at least… who they thought was Haechan.

He was already waiting by the table when you finally walked in. Turning to look at you, the boy gave you his usual wide smile, before it froze on his face when he saw your expression. For a while, you only stood in silence by the door, watching him quietly. When you finally started slowly walking towards him, he followed you with his gaze, like a predator tracking his prey.

"You did a great job fooling the guards today, Donghyuck."

The slow smirk that replaced his once innocent smile sent pins of cold straight to your bones.

"You're getting better at this too, Princess."

"I've figured you out," your voice came as an almost shaky whisper as you stopped at a distance from where he was still calmly sitting. Something changed in the light of his eyes as you said it, and in that moment, you were sure he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"You did," he said, his tone not giving away whether he is stating a fact or asking a question.

"Everything you've done… You did it for your teacher, didn't you? You weren't just acting out. You were following a legacy. Does Haechan even know about this?"

He didn't answer. He only stared at you, his face devoid of any emotions you could pick apart.

“Were you under his orders? Does he know the police caught you?”

More silence. 

"Are you his successor? Of the Apothecarist?"

His blank facade finally cracked as he curled his lips before giving an empty laugh.

"Am I their successor? Darling, I think we got a little lost in translation there,” he said, his eyes dancing with a light that almost made you physically shiver. “I would give anything for that person to give me as much as a glance. Why do you think I have done all these things?"

You froze. Trying to scramble your brains, your train of thought was easily lost on you as you watched him slowly rise from his seat. He started moving closer with measured steps towards you, his gaze pinning you on the spot. Before you could even stop yourself, your gut instinct took the best of you and made you take a step back to keep him from closing the distance.

"I have done everything to find that person again. You see, people like me and Haechan, we're wrong in the head. We're outcasts. That person was the only one who could have understood us, but they made the stupid decision to stop. I didn't like that. So I took up their activities, because I thought, maybe if they see me doing it, they'll have no other choice but to crawl out of their hellhole and find me. But no. Even that didn't work no matter how many places and people I ripped apart. It was very, very frustrating."

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt your back hit the cold wall behind you. He was towering over you now, eyes dark and hooded as he slowly and pointedly rested both arms beside your head to cage you in place. Goosebumps rose on the skin of your arms when he spoke softly again, his face close enough that his breath was fanning your skin.

"You said you figured me out. The question now is… What are you going to do about it?"

You didn't know how you managed to answer, not when he slowly lowered his head to run his nose gently over the curve of your cheek. His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear after, causing your eyes to flutter shut. Your knees have gone weak, but you couldn't really find it in you to push him away.

"Y-You need… to leave," you croaked. He laughed softly as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot of your neck, a move that finally made your legs give way under your weight. Before you collapsed though, one of his hands caught you by the hip and pressed you against the wall harshly to keep you steady.

"You'll make me leave? How are you even going to do that, hm?"

You were fighting for air. You pressed your hands against his chest now, though that didn't stop him from trailing his hand on your hip to the hem of your skirt. You gasped as his knuckles grazed against the skin of your thigh.

"What are you—"

"Answer. Or I'll turn you around right now and fuck you against the wall."

Your voice died in your throat. You knew he wasn't kidding, not when he slipped his fingers under your clothes and started slowly rubbing circles inside your thigh. Every now and then, he would stop the gentle movements to bury his blunt nails against the soft skin there to leave half crescent marks on your skin. You were absolutely wrecked, breathing heavily as you became painfully aware of the wetness and heat that has now gathered in the apex of your thighs.

"Answer… Now."

"M-Merge. You need to merge. With H-Haechan."

Your reply made him momentarily pause. It was quick though, his movements soon enough resuming to leave burning tracks on your skin.

"Merging… That's very... novel. I've read studies of it. Multiple personalities are merged and fused together with the core personality to make a single entity," he said casually in an almost thoughtful voice that was a complete contrast to the way his hand started inching closer and closer to your core. Both your hands dropped to his wrist, trying to stop him.

"So you're thinking you can merge me with Haechan… Make us into one person so that I can be held back, is that it?" His voice was brimming with amusement now as he smiled down on you. You gave a dry sob, absolutely hating the way your body was screaming for him to touch you where you needed him. You didn't even bother to answer as you painfully became aware of how his fingers suddenly stopped moving a pitying few inches from your dripping core. For a moment, none of you talked and moved. The only sounds in the room were that of your heavy breathing and the ticking hands of the clock on the wall. When he spoke again, his soft words were like the crack of a whip that shattered the tension that shrouded you both. 

"Do you cum from thoughts of me, noona?"

Your head shot up at him, stunned by the question.

"Wha—"

You broke off into a scream before you even managed to push the word out as he suddenly moved his hand and plunged two fingers inside of you. He moved so fast in pushing your soaked underwear to the side and burying himself to the hilt that the only thing you managed to do was to grip at his shoulders as a mixture of stretch and slight pain overcame your body in waves. He was quick enough to cover your lips with his other free hand, the action softening your voice into muffled groans against his palm.

"Shhh… Keep quiet now. You wouldn't want the guards to come running here and see me knuckle-deep in you, right? Or maybe that's your thing?" He laughed softly, his voice sweet and gentle. It was an ironic contradiction to the way he pumped his fingers deep inside of you, fast, deep, and unforgiving. He didn’t even let you adjust, instead starting a pace that made you shake against him. Unable to answer, you shook your head vehemently as tears started pricking your eyes.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty slut. Can you hear yourself? You're soaking wet. You're even spreading your legs for me."

"I know you dream of me. Don't even try to deny it," he whispered against your temple as you struggled to keep yourself up. Without warning, he pushed another finger inside of you, so deep this time that it hit that spot that always made your vision turn white. The sensation made you actually scream again behind his hand, a reaction he ultimately caught as he smirked at you.

The realization hit you like a truck when he said those words. Looking down in panic, you caught yourself trying to spread yourself wider for him as your thighs continued to tremble. You watched as his fingers disappeared inside of you again and again, massaging your walls that were desperately trying to suck him in. A broken groan left your throat as you felt yourself tighten against him, desperate for more. When he resumed his pace and went deeper, you clung to him harder, nails digging against the fabric of his shirt.

"Oh… So it's this, huh? Your special spot. Look at you trembling. Are you close? Are you going to cum with just my fingers?"

All sense and reason have left you at this point. Tears have started spilling down your cheeks, but all you could care about was the way he continued to drive himself deeper inside you again and again, right where you need him. Your legs were in pain, and you threw your head back against the wall as the beginnings of the tight knot in the pit of your stomach started to unravel. Donghyuck pressed his lips against the column of your throat and nipped your skin in between murmuring words that your foggy mind could barely understand anymore.

Come on.

Give in.

Beautiful.

Stop fighting me.

"Cum."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he made one last thrust and buried his fingers against the spot inside of you. Vision turning white, the pressure inside you finally broke and sent waves and waves of electric pleasure through your veins. You could hear everything and nothing, your mind temporarily blanking out to block everything but your high. Just as you were at the crest of your orgasm, you heard him whisper words against your cheek as he gently kissed you there.

"Perfect… You're so perfect."

"Too bad you can never be her."

-----

A/N: Well... that was a ride. This is the second to the last chapter. Enjoy! 

Taglist:  @negincho, @jhornytrash, @aaasteroidsky, @huangberryyy, @marijmin, @ashkuuuu , @lostlovesoul11 , @johnniverse , @traint0tokyo , @lilyinthewinter , @byunniebaekhyunnie ​, @ellatizw ​, @bettyschwallocksyee , @stopeatread , @glitching-wren,  @tyongf-sunflower99, @chelzinha26, @vaerinri​, @minshookie29, @grandmasterslickfox, @coconuttiez8d​, @haechanalpha​,  @markleemelonn​, 

Untaggable for some reason 😔 @hyukiebb, @kpopstanforlifeuwu

If I missed anyone, please let me know!

[midwestmade29]

Here For You ❤️

What a sweet request 🥺 I loved it! Thanks for sending it in. I hope you like how I used the prompts 🖤 Word Count: 746 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine

Original Request from @judgementdaysunshine: Can I have Adam Copeland x Fem reader with the prompts “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” + “You’re one of the best people I know”

Disclaimers: None! 100% fluff 🙂

When you're going through a rough patch, Adam Copeland is there to help you through it...

Lately you’ve been down on your luck, most days it feels as if nothing goes right. There was one incident in particular that you felt set things in motion though. During Dynamite a couple weeks ago, you had a title match against the TBS champion Julia Hart. Everything was going well until the last few minutes when you slipped on something in the ring, causing you to stumble and mess up the move you were trying to land on Julia. In the end, both of you ended up getting hurt. Julia suffered a shoulder injury, and you sprained your ankle.

 While slipping wasn’t your fault, there were several fans and even a few coworkers that blamed you for everything. The number of hateful comments and posts you were tagged in on social media took a toll on your psyche, really hurting your self-esteem and mental health. You already felt terrible about the injuries you and Julia both sustained, but the added hate you were receiving made it that much worse.

You were still traveling with AEW, even with your ankle in a boot and walking with crutches. You saw the way some of the people backstage looked at you making it clear that they were still skeptical or upset about the incident. You had turned off notifications for all your social media accounts and stopped checking it as often as you used to. One night during Dynamite, you were standing off to the side backstage watching on a monitor when you heard a familiar voice call out to you, “There’s my girl!” If it weren’t for Adam, the last couple of weeks would’ve been so much worse than they already were. While you were falling apart, he was there for you every step of the way. He was your protector and confidant, the giver of the best bear hugs. The weight of the world didn’t feel as heavy when you turned slowly and took in the sight of his bright smile, releasing a sigh of relief when he wrapped you in his arms. “I’m glad I found you, I’ve been looking everywhere. How are you?” Adam spoke softly with his cheek resting on the top of your head. You nuzzled in closer to him, enjoying the safety his arms provided from the world around you. “I’m fine, just glad you’re here now,” you replied timidly. Adam pulled back a little, not letting you go completely before he called you on your bluff, “That’s not very convincing. What’s wrong?” You tried reassuring Adam that you really were fine, but he knew better. He probably knows you better than you know yourself! He invited you back to his locker room so the two of you could talk more, and you happily agreed after getting a dirty look from a production team member.

Adam closed the door behind him before taking a seat next to you on the couch. “So, what’s up? And don’t say nothing because you know I won’t let that slide,” he prompted. You took a deep breath and began explaining everything you had been feeling recently. “I just can’t believe anyone would think I would hurt Julia on purpose! That’s not my style or how I do things. It’s like no matter what I do or what I say, no one believes it. I talked to Julia about everything and she’s not even mad at me. It was an accident, but it feels like I’m guilty until I can prove that I’m innocent, you know?” Adam sat back and listened to everything you had to say, not interrupting you once or acting uninterested as you carried on. He knew that letting all your thoughts and emotions out would be therapeutic, so he didn’t want to say anything until you were finished. “The people who really matter know it was an accident Y/N. It’s easier said than done, but you just gotta ignore the hate. It’ll all blow over eventually and things will get back to normal. You’re one of the best people I know! You’d never hurt anyone on purpose,” Adam spoke gently. Your conversation continued for a while longer, and by the end of it you felt so much better. You thanked Adam for listening to you and for his advice, earning a warm smile from him in return. Before the two of you left the locker room, he reminded you of one last thing, “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what…”

[tomriddles-wh0re]

‘Running from love’ // t.r  part 2

Pairing: female!potter(james’ sister) x Tom Riddle

wc: 3.6 k

Summary: In the past, the reader hadn't hope to fall in love with him, their goal was to prevent the rise of the Dark Lord but nothing seemed to go as planned when they are sent back into the future. In the months following the return, Tom Riddle continues to haunt their nightmares and their new reality as he closes in on them. How can an old love cause so much harm?

Trigger warnings: nightmares, trauma, brief mention of death, mentions of blood but not highly graphic

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | tbc

As the last two weeks of the month drew nearer, my ‘friends’(rather moral obligations) continued to look for more information on why and what was keeping me up into the early hours of the day. In the mornings they examined the lines under my eyes away from the charms I casted each day, in class they would bug me for clues about this ‘mystery boy’ who was haunting my dreams, and if any guy had even stopped to talk to me in class for help they interrogated him(at least more than normal). 

Sometimes I wondered why I had kept this one secret from them when it made me feel awfully guilty for hiding it when they were only worried as it was a natural reaction. To me it was some dirty secret I had, but how could I face the true nature of what Tom was now. He was someone who killed innocent people, a wizard who used dark magic to kill the helpless. Someone who haunted my nightmares, becoming far more frequent. 

This week Lily had spent far more time spending more time with the marauders and they all tried to act normal but I was slowly cracking over the pressure. Just Thursday I caught them attempting to put veritaserum in my juice at lunch. I wasn’t sure how they had managed to nick some off of Professor Slughorn's stalk but they almost caught a hex their way before Alice managed to drag me out of the great hall. Sometimes I wonder if people would let me get violent with them because sometimes James needed to be hit by a bludger in a sense. A feeling of privacy is all I wished for and even yet, after that ordeal both Lily and Alice made sure I wasn’t left alone in a room with them. Following this all, they spent the last days either trying to not get on my bad side or avoiding me, this gave me a lot of time to think. 

I eventually got back on the ‘dreamless sleep’ potion even if Dumbledore had advised against it, I could only have a few more dosages before it would affect my health. Yet I long passed the proper amount of doses. It had been roughly three months since it started, and the nightmares only got worse. The headmaster knew I would have these mental effects or strain but little did he know the severity. I kept getting the recurring dream that he would come back to kill me, sometimes he tortured me and others he was quick but I always felt the fear and phantom pain. Recently he would turn me into a horcrux, and even though my Tom wouldn’t do that by now he’s already killed tens maybe a hundred of people. On the potion again, I can hopefully get a day of peaceful sleep without him. 

∞

Four days, precisely ninety six hours of freedom. 

Within the time, we managed to patch up everything with the boys to be back on speaking terms, even with my little ‘condition’ in a hopeless effort to flirt with Lily, Prongs found I was briefly free but free in his mind. They let it go for now, thinking I was safe from whatever plagued me but truth be told it was the opposite. 

The moment I returned to my dorm, I knew something was going to happen in my dreams that night. A gut feeling if you will, so the second I was sure my dorm mate was asleep I rolled out of bed and snuck to the common room. The room was frigid, so I walked to close the window pane as the next fresh breeze swept by. Passing the couch closest to the fireplace, I spotted an abandoned blanket that I wrapped around my shoulders.

The familiar scent of vanilla, chocolate, and parchment engulfed my lungs as the small orange embers crackled in the distant present. The scent meant the blanket must have been Remus’ but he wasn’t anywhere in sight of the desolate room. Meaning the boys were up to trouble tonight but it also meant I was free to roam the castle grounds without them tagging along. So impulsively I took a leap of freedom to go home, or more so the Slytherin common room. 

Making my way, the cold stone corridors hit my bare feet, dodging all prefects I saw by ducking into hidden alcoves, sliding down banisters, and shushing all portraits who looked my way. I made my way up to where the entrance would be only in my pajamas and moony’s red blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Only problem with my plan to come back was I didn’t know the password, it wasn’t going to be the same as it was 35 years ago so I racked my brain on it. If Rosier was the prefect this year, he was just as dim and pretentious as his grandad. Tracing the stones on the wall, leaning in the whisper “pureblood” a door frame section of the wall disappeared, opening to the common room. 

The room was eerily bare but it was comforting. Seating near the windows the iridescent green tint of the Black Lake lit up the room, a loveseat propped near it that I had not remembered being there 35 years ago but I settled on it. Not a soul was in sight, just the black cushioned couches, empty desks, bookshelves, and a few quills. The sound of the water lapping against the glass panes rang through the air accompanied by my steady breathing. Clinging to the warmth of my blanket I shut my eyes taking in the calming atmosphere only brought out of the thoughts by a yawn. From the love seat I surveyed the room, I hadn’t seen anyone before I met eyes with one of the portraits, Septian Arguenon Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy name in the 16th century. 

If you had to picture him imagine a handsome man, in his late 40’s but looking far more youthful, broad shoulders, incredibly tall, with a high bone structure, short curled dirty blonde hair, snow white pale skin, and dark gray eyes. He was the Malfoy who didn’t carry all the genes, his traits often were far more intense then his other relatives besides his hair. One conversation I overheard of him complaining about being the black sheep of his cousins but that mostly was contributed by the long scar running down from his top lip to half way down his chin. Although bias of markings occurred in the Wizarding world it made him even more incredibly handsome, he always had swooning fifth years around him even if he was a painting I recall. 

Yet we had become rather uncommon acquaintances, even with his whole heritage he said he could tell I was a pureblood somehow despite my pseudonym he became fond of me. 

Happy to see my old friend, I got up to greet him “Septian”. Crossing the common room, picking up a lit candle off a desk I made my way toward the painting. “Miss O’Clare, how long has it been since our last visit? I was afraid you didn’t keep to your word to visit again” he spoke in a low baritone tilting his head in my direction, oblivious to how it made me visibly shift on my feet. Shrugging my shoulders back “35 years to be precise.” I spoke to the silent room, he chuckled like only he would find this whole situation ironic. 

“Of course, Miss O' Clare- or well should I refer to you as a Potter now?” his eyes danced in mischief matching the same one my brother wore. Bewilderment was quite obvious to us both, staring back at each other in silence for a minute. 

“How?” was all I let out of my mouth, rubbing my hands together anxiously. “You should recall most pureblood families are related, by blood or marriage. You reminded me of Eliza Potter, she certainly had the same fire in her and I had a gut feeling. She was fond of my brother enough to marry him, only Salazar knows why” I immediately snorted covering my mouth. 

“Apologies, I never knew we were distantly related. Why hadn’t you told me all along”. He gave me a smile, one that comforted me more than I let on. “Well I’m pleased to meet you Miss Potter, as for the year 1943 why were you there so long ago?” Obviously that’s what anyone would be wondering, time traveling isn’t common nor safe. 

“Well that’s kinda complicated, very complicated if you ask me so..” trailing off when Septian began hurriedly pointing towards the dorm rooms where a small light emitted trying to alert me. The light of a wand became closer as footsteps echoed “who’s in the common room?” a voice asked. Shit, that is when I knew I had messed up. Nodding towards the portrait, turning around to the exit as fast as I could. Jogging to meet it the voice sounded nearer to me, “Stop, Gryffindor! What are you doing here?”.  What a coincidence was that my blanket most likely had the house crest on it, it must have been someone's cruel joke as I whispered the password and bolted up the first two flights of stairs. Ducking into a broom closet, I gathered my thoughts to believe it was Severus I had escaped. Awaiting the painfully long minutes to not be found out by any professors, before the halls were silent and bare once more so I could return to my common room safe. Sneaking into my bed, peeling the covers down so I could submerge myself in the soft silk. Staring up at the ceiling waiting for what was evident and after a what felt like hours the exhaustion finally overtook the displeasure I had felt.

∞

Peeling my eyes open, a green light cascaded through the window panes, finally looking around only to realize I woke in the slytherin dorm rooms. This wasn’t a nightmare or rather a dream, I was going through the motions of the day. Almost as if I bonded to the body but I couldn’t willingly move, only able to go through the motions. Oddly enough I knew this memory from heart, if I had to place a bet it was a memory possibly strong enough to produce some wisps of a patronus. 

Working through all the functions of getting ready, every button, every pin in my hair, all done to perfection. The dark ivory color clashed with my skin tone but I suppose no one mentioned it, besides Clodius Warrington who was an spiteful woman. Anyways it seemed Orpha and Dora were already out of the dorms, so descending down the stairs I was met with a pair of warm brown eyes. 

The common room only had a few first years spilling out as he approached me offering a hand in my direction. “Tom” I spoke out of habit nodding in his direction as I took his outreached arm in mine, linking it together and we slowly exited the room. “Miss O' Clare pleasures” his voice rolling off his tongue as sweet as honey, he said, “Abraxas, Nott, Miss Rosier, and Miss Verkinne have already left for breakfast, I’ve opted to wait for you”. A small smile played on my lips before I could stop it “Very kind of you Riddle, thank you” as his own mirrored mine. 

“What is on your schedule this morning?” 

“Double potions, transfiguration, a free period, and in the afternoon Arithmancy”

“I recall we have potions with Abraxas and Dora today, I also have a free period with you” 

“That's lovely Tom, we should study in the library during our free period”

“I will meet you there”

Making our way through the big oak doors as the chatter immediately filled my ears and the scent of bacon hit my nose. To our right was the ghost of Peeves scaring some first year ravenclaws who ended up falling to the floor. Riddle steered us towards our usual seats as we spotted all our friends already. A warm grin made its way onto my face as we sat amongst our housemates, laughing, talking, eating and discussing the upcoming exam in charms tomorrow. By the time the boys stood up from breakfast, it was ten minutes to class that we all began to head to our courses. 

Settling in a seat near the back of the Potions classroom, Orpha accompanied them while the two boys sat in the desks to the left of us. Professor Slughorn stalked into the room five minutes before class was to start, opting to start the lecture early. Finishing the notes mid way into class we only had time to start observations instead of starting the brewing process, handing out the vials around to each table pair while keeping an observant eye. Rosier turned to pass you the vial while holding it up to the light, the pink and mother of pearl sheen glimmered and chatter filled the room. 

“Who do you suppose you will smell?” she gossiped glancing around at the other desks full of our classmates. “Wait let me guess, using my inner eye I'm sensing it's got to be…Professor Dumbledore!” Orpha whispered to you, laughing at the assumption. Many of our own friends had crushes on our Professor but it was our own joke between us since he wasn’t either of our’s type. As Slughorn walked past the row of desks, I rolled my eyes saying, “Oh bludger off! It’s not an actual love potion, it only emulates what smells you are fond of. I’m betting it will smell like blueberry muffins, maybe even chocolate frogs”. 

They just snickered, rolled their eyes, and shoving it into your hands, “okay, okay if you’re so sure just tell me exactly what you smell and we will see” Orpha said. “Fine” I held the potion in one hand and readied to the other with a quill over my scroll. Taking the dropper off and moving closer to the vial, your eyes shifted under their eager gaze beckoning you forward. As you smelled the aroma you smiled to yourself, “I smell my mom's blueberry muffins, nothing new there she. Also chocolate, but more of a dark chocolate, and also…..” taking a moment to think.

“a very subtle cologne, it’s light but very noticeable? If that makes sense. But also parchment like old books, jasmine incense or something floral, tea bags, and freshly polished leather. But it seems familiar” you looked over at Rosier who was peering around you at something behind you “What is it?”. 

Turning around your eyes immediately landed at the desk Tom and Abraxes were occupying, making you turn around so fast you nearly fell off your chair. “No it's not him” you reassured yourself out loud more than speaking to her. 

“It’s obvious you fancy the Head Boy over there, who else smells like tea bags, cologne and old books. Put it all together and bingo it's Riddle, you yourself should know it”. 

And then I woke up.

∞

I tried to ignore how the memory made me feel but in all honesty last night had filled me with a mix of emotions. For that, I slept in as long as I could to stare up at my poster bed but it was not nearly long enough when Mrs. Lily Evans is your roommate. 

So when I finally rose that morning, it seemed like my luck ran out as I trudged down the common room stairs. The [self named] marauders were sprawled out around the couches whispering to themselves, no doubt in my mind of where they were last night and yet when they heard my shoes click on the carpet they turned.

At the first glance I knew it was bad, and then I felt my stomachs drop as Peter's outreached hand dropped a  familiar metal locket over to Siri. 

James had found the locket, “a slytherin huh?”

And I nearly wanted to dry heave right there, so I ran. But before they could follow, Lily's voice saved me and kept them in their places as I made my escape. 

 ∞

Stepping out of the library I made my way towards Gryffindor tower, opting to skip dinner and go by the kitchen later. The halls were bare, it was two days after the marauders confronted her about the locket and she ran her course ignoring and threatening them when each attempt at confronting her occurred. By now, they had done exactly what she feared, for anytime she was around any Slytherins in general they would practically death glare at them. Even if they were girls. All they knew for sure was I had a slytherin locket and a nightmare of a boy, not much to go by on admittedly. But they knew I was afraid, maybe of telling them the truth, maybe of ever getting them involved. Too lost in thought, someone lunged and I was dragged into a dark alcove only seeing the person's dark green slytherin robes.

Fear ran through my body as they covered my mouth and pinned my arms behind my back. Shoving me into the wall, I met their eyes. “Regulus what the fuck are you doing?” I spat on his cold palms. He simply gave me the infamous Black smile before pushing off of me to run a hand back across his neck. 

“You know Potter I didn’t appreciate my brother and his friends ambushing me yesterday after practice” he spat in mere annoyance for the boy's little visit. Rolling my own eyes, I said “So what? I hadn’t had anything to do with it” pushing off the wall, my hands rolled my sleeves back down. The dark haired boy scoffed as if it was funny, as if I was missing something important so it meant it was about me.  “The locket” was all he said. 

I could feel my heart simply stop in my chest as it hit me. “No, no they didn’t bring it up to you?” hopefulness filling my voice. A small smile in contempt came to his face, “Obviously y/n. Something about a slytherin locket and asking about the whereabouts of who owned it. They showed me it, it’s an old heirloom about as old as most of the ones at my house,” pausing briefly to glance over at my face, drinking in every slight reaction. “I couldn’t identify it as any other pureblood families. Surely any respectable family would show off the piece. Yet here it is with you Potter, why?”

Black asked, he was just as curious as the boys and even though I knew I could trust him, as we were on good terms. He often reached out to ask about how Sirius was and we became good acquaintances despite my brothers’ concerns. Simply it wasn’t the time for the truth, at least not for this fifth year boy to try and comfort me. “Regulus I can’t tell you it’s personal really. I can’t even tell James or Lily. Just know I trust you enough that the second I’m ready I’ll come to you. I promise”.

Sighing in response he adjusted his book bag, the dramatic flare he had turned off “Fine, Potter but it was you in the Slytherin common room a week back, wasn’t it? It was reported to the the house prefects”. I seemed caught red handed, so I had to admit it. “Yes, I'll tell you why when the time comes, alright?”

∞

By the time dinner had long passed, I snuck into the kitchen through the pear portrait. All I wanted was a meal in peace and quiet but nothing is ever how you want it, as I stepped in the portrait a new black haired boy stood leaning up against the countertops with a infamous scroll in hand. 

“Of course it's you Siri,” I said, “I know, I know but please just let me eat before you drag me off to James.”

He set the map down, now this felt like a set up. “Actually, y/n I just wanted to speak to you about something” he said, eyes turning down nervously to look at his hands. Now alarms went off in the back of my mind, me and Padfoot were as close as you could be given that we had to be around eachother a lot year round, but we hardly spoke outside of the group or alone at home. 

He took in a deep breath as if this made him more nervous than me, “About this week, the locket- erm how do say this” he trailed off not managing to look my in the eye. “Come on, spit it out it's just us two” 

“okay- okay, so the locket, it’s an heirloom. I don’t think I needed to spell it out, but it's a courtship gift” he said as I nodded, none of this was new knowledge to me. “..it’s not from Regulus, is it?” Sirius asked. Truly this was the last thing I expected him to say but he kept speaking rapidly as if I would disappear at any second. “If it is that's fine I know James might not agree but oh- it is him isn’t it” he says as you were at a loss of words. Finally speaking up, “no-” you said but he kept rambling, “it's totally okay if he is, I know you talk to him and are speaking privately. You can tell me if he’s courting you, I know you’re young and probably stressed over our Mom wanting to rush the plans and-” and before he could continue you yelled out “STOP”, not bothering to politely stop his endless speech. “We are seriously not having this conservation Sirius, it's not him”

And did that shut him up, you walked towards the back of the kitchen ruffling through the pantries to put together a dinner plate. He stood silently glancing at the outline of them, “If it was him, you know I’d be okay with it as long as he’s treating you right”. 

“Thanks Siri, but seriously me and Regulus is not going to happen” I said.

“Oh thank Godric, I was so stressed out about you marrying into the Blacks.”

A/N: Any interactions like reblog or even commenting help so much, truly anything is supper appreciated because I’d love for my writing to reach more people

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

How it works: Oxyclinic

Wanted to expire the history and  functionality of the oxyclinics. Also apologies for my writing today, I am very tired. Also sorry for not posting anything yesterday. I had to leave early for work  

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.\

Several years Ago 

This was Fiem’s last hope. At this point it seemed she had tried everything conventional, and even most things unconventional, but it still wasn’t getting better, and lately she had begun to feel herself slipping away, slowly sliding down into a darkness she didn’t believe she could return from. 

She sat, silently, the only passenger on the small shuttle whizzing through the darkness of space. It had taken her weeks to get here, ferried on multiple passenger flights through the Dienspura galaxy and on into the quadinspura galaxy. She knew this was her last hope, and simply the trip itself had been almost enough to send her over the edge.

Not so many months ago her life had been turned upside down. It wasn’t something she liked or wanted to talk about, but a single incident had been enough to shatter her, and put her feelings of security permanently into question. Since the “Incident” She hadn’t felt safe for a single moment, and this trip, though her last chance at recovery, had probably set her back months.

Even now she felt as if her world would implode and the space around her would simply swallow her up forever.

It was a terrible feeling.

The ship slowed, and nervously, she peeked through the window and out into space. What she found was not a black sheet of stars, but the glittering light of a blazing star bouncing sharply off the reflective white hull of the waiting Oxyclinic. Curiosity, somewhat peaked, she examined the strange little station, a floating ball of white in the middle of space, reflecting star rays off into the darkness.

It looked so peaceful.

But still her heart was in her throat, attempting to strangle her before she could even make a proper judgment. Fiem dropped her head and curled back into a ball her entire body tense and waiting for the moment it would happen.

The moment she would die.

Predictably it didn’t  come, and her sponsor came to retrieve her a moment later as the shuttle landed, and she was led into the oxy clinic waiting room. It wasn’t what she had expected. Sure the walls and floors were bright white, almost blending  but all of the other surfaces were soft and plush or even fuzzy. Patches of well contained sand even featured prominently, one square where a dozing Rundi rested.

No one else here seemed nearly as concerned as she did, even as she was taken from the room and led into a quiet little office. The Tesraki that sat in the waiting seat was not dissimilar to her. He was small, with large ears, brown fur, and a thick strong tail, which he had tucked neatly around himself.

She she entered, he perked his ears in greeting but did not stand.

She glanced at the room’s edges and then scrutanied him with some measure of distrust.

“Fiem is it?” 

She nodded.

“A pleasure to have you.” his voice was even and soothing, and at no point did he make any sudden movements, “I am Dr. Sapien. I will be your doctor for the course of your stay. I understand you were sponsored to come to us. Tell me, how much do you understand about what we do?”

She shifted nervously in her seat, “You…. you use um humans…. To cure mental illness.”

The doctor shook his head slightly, “That is a bit of a misconception, so I will explain briefly. Humans have a hormone, of a similar chemical composition and makeup that is common in quite a few of our sentient species. For them it assists in forming attachments and bonds, and as a side effect it can reduce anxiety and promote better health. Most of us don’t  produce so much of this chemical, as our bodies have other ways of preforming the same task, but a human produces significantly more of the chemical, which is why we use them here. Though integrated touch therapy, we have trained our humans to assist a variety of species in a variety of ways. I have already consulted your previous doctor. However, I would like to hear from you, what would you like to get out of this experience? And from there we can create a roadmap to your recovery in more detail.

She shifted nervously, glancing down at the floor, and then back towards the door, It took a long few moments before she was able to speak, but eventually she opened her mouth, allowing the words to spill slowly from her tongue and into the air, “I want to feel safe again. Every waking moment of my life is a living hell because it constantly feels like I am this close to dying.” she held her fingers up to demonstrate, “I am in constant fear, and I can’t take it anymore.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke.

They talked a little more about her concerns and worries. He asked some questions, she gave some answers, but eventually he nodded, “Very good, I think this is something we can help with. Now, this next part might be the hardest for you, but I want you to take deep belly breaths alright, count each breath and try your best to relax.

I Will be with you the entire time, and I promise you no one will hurt you.

Logically she knew she could trust him, but psychologically that felt impossible.

Still, she followed him out of the door and down a small corridor.

“It may take a few days or even a few weeks to find the right routine and match for you, but don’t feel discouraged if it doesn’t happen right away. Some people just click easier than others, and this may be one of those times. For our piece of mind, I will note that each and everyone of our humans is thoroughly vetted and trained. They are likely the safest creatures in the galaxy. I am going to introduce you to a few at a time and we will go from there.

She nodded and swallowed hard.

Her entire body ached with the effort of her tensed muscles, but she did her best to keep it under control.

The door opened and they were led into another room.

It was wide and spaciou, lined with even moe of the strange, soft couches. There was a large window over on one wall where light from the star managed to spill in through the windows and make this room look even bigger than it already was.

“We like to call this the day room, but it is also where we take most of our visitors. We require mandatory starrlight time for everyone we bring here, as it promotes healing and health.”

She wasn’t really listening to him, however, instead, looking down the length of the long room to where the humans congregated. She had heard about humans before, but she had never actually seen one. Her immediate thought was fear, and it took almost everything she had not to bolt out of the room. 

They were bigger than she had anticipated, some twice as big as her. They were mostly hairless and rather ugly looking in her opinion, with brilliant glistening eyes in strange colors.

When they shifted, they seemed to move like exotic predatory animals inside a zoo.

Her legs wobbled a bit.

Her chest began to tighten.

She was going to fall over and die!

“Shh, deep breaths, slow and steady. They just want to help. Here, why don’t we go sit over here on this bench, let you get used to them, okay.”

Shaking, she did as told, but she certainly didn’t want to.

He led her over to the little seat and sat her down as the humans continued to lounge.

It took a good thirty minutes before she was calmed down enough to acknowledge the humans again.

The doctor sat patiently with her the whole time, coaching her through breathing exercise as her panic slowly subsided.

“Very good, now lets get one of them a bit closer. Would you be okay with that.” She paused and thought about it for a moment. She thought she could do it, and so she nodded.

The first human to come over was small, actually not much taller than her. This human had dark brown skin and a cloud of hair in tight spirals around her face. As she approached Fiem couldn’t help but note a few things. The soft white clothing, the fuzzy slippers, and the mittens that covered the human’s hands, also made out of the strange fuzzy material that made up the slippers.

Her eyes were unnervingly gold, “Hello.” She said softly, her translation equipement speaking for her, “My name is Monique.”

She did her best to acknowledge the human, but it was hard, and the fear kept her rooted in place.

The human herself moved very slowly and very carefully. She almost drifted in a way as she floated back towards the seats where the other humans were waiting. The next human she got was much much bigger, but when he spoke he had a very deep, soothing voice that echoed in her head.

He simultaneously scared her and comforted her,

It was a confusing feeling.

But it wasn’t until the last human appeared that she tok special note of any of them.

He was a tall human, with pale skin and fur, and unnervingly bright green eyes. But as he approached, he stopped at a distance, and sat down, which immediately made him feel smaller to her. He kept his arms open and didn’t move towards her, his chest and throat exposed. When he sat, he sat sideways, facing to her right, and not looking her directly in the face. 

The difference was subtle, but it was there, “Hello Fiem, My name is Adam 

The doctor watched her carefully, “Fiem, Adam also doubles as one of the security guards for this clinic.:”’

The corner’s of the humans mouth twitched, and he tilted his head, exposing the soft flesh of his throat, “I can keep you safe.”

She wasn’t sure how he had known what she wanted, or needed, but at that moment the human said the one thing that she had wanted to hear. Even despite his size, there was something about him that made him inherently unintimidating. She couldn’t have placed her finger on it, but perhaps it was the way he moved, conscious always of how that would appear to her.

He didn’t approach against her will.

He didn’t press his company upon her.

He didn’t even look at her.

It was relieving in a way, and the doctor was not surprised when she tentatively chose him as her first option.

[angelsofneonandgarbage]

sorey for being a bit. scary on main. i just finished madk vol. 3 which is finally out in english and i was so excited for it but the ending is a near closed-loop cyclical ending which always really bothers me n puts me in a state in nihilistic anxiety/dissociation idk but also. it just makes me wanna feel things again. i wanna stop taking my meds. ive had the upped dose for a week ish now n its bringing back my paranoia which should settle in a week tops but it's bothering me bc it means i cant listen to tma bc that's creepy enough to set it off. sorry i swear my mental health has actually been better these last couple of days im slowly regaining mental functionality to an extent but i keep slipping and falling and i just. don't have the spoons to figure out every problem i have and address them enough to be functional again. like there's the attachment problems w my ex which keep coming back every time i feel like jm getting over them, the chronic exhaustion and general symptoms of pots, my meds fucking with me, general depression but also manic episodes, the fact im way over budget but my mum wants me to get her a 60 quid fountain pen for her birthday/mothers day and im not going to be there to see her around that time anyway sso i have even less of an excuse to cheap out. and ive been committedly lying abt my mental state to my parents to convince them im getting better than i was at xmas even tho im worse bc my mum will come up here and invade my uni life if she realises how bad i am doing

ah yeah i hate when fiction leads to like a major dissociative bit especially bc i love to use media as an escape when im floating out my body and then it goes and makes it worse and sets off a chain reaction of pent up shittiness? the absolute worst fr

not to sound like an overbearing parent but pls take ur meds !!!!! ik it sucks rn getting thru the adjustment phase but think of how things will change once u get used to them! u may not notice a crazy positive change right away but think of the small things. like u can listen to tma again once ur adapted to ur meds!! even if it’s something small that gets u thru daily tasks like that. u could take ur pills in the morning and be like “this is for u martin”

and oh god ex drama we both know that one well. idk if it would help but maybe if every time u have a like thought abt them that makes u feel any way that’s great just text me ur thoughts to try and get them out yk. like how i texted u like “the voices!!” when i was talking abt my ex like the other week pls feel free to do that back if u think it would help

and exhaustion and depression suck man i wish i had some like quippy little tip or smthn for u there but i’m suffering right there with u on those. and maybe just the thought that we’re going thru that together could help? holding ur hand thru the horrors <3

and oh man money problems r the worse omg. ik u said the pen is like 60 quid and mothers day is coming up so idk what ur like personal budget is looking like but me when i’m trying to make bigger purchases is i set aside a few bucks a day like just a few dollars $2 or $3 nothing that seems like a lot just a little snack or drink price but somthing that adds up a decent bit when done for a few days straight and u have like two ish weeks till then right? so u could make a decent dent with that plan

and hey i’m all for lying to parents but i think u shoukd consider the possibility that u may need to ask for help at one point even tho that’s so hard and ur mom will get all up in ur business but maybe it could help. or u could think of ur daily life like ur mom is there or nearby as a way to like watch urself and try to control what ur doing if that makes sense?

[m-r-levine]

On Interruptions of Flow

Blocks used to be just part of the normal cycles of work and rest and refilling the well, the rhythms of moving between projects. (I won’t deny the good feelings and brain juices from feedback on the work, but it was never the driving force. I treasure comments like a dragon treasures their hoarde, but the urge to write and the pleasure of storytelling are not primarily or even secondarily grounded in the reception of the work.)

In the last few years, that changed. I don’t know if this was a true cause or if it was just one little part of a whole system of events that led to my creative process breaking down, but.

In 2019, I dropped all my other projects to meet an absurd deadline for a zine piece, and then for various reasons, a month later I took that story to pieces to see if an actual novel length concept might be hidden in there**.

Meanwhile, some fairly major things were going on in my personal life, and the tremors were getting markedly worse.

Suddenly I didn’t have blocks of time or steadiness of hand to paint either, except for pushing through for a couple of excruciating outstanding commissions, and struggling to wrap up the second volume of the graphic novel. Yet even with a few of those deadlines dealt with I could no longer make words go on any other project. I tried everything in the toolbox to get the brain going again, especially after a side effect of quarantine gave back my former 3+ hours daily commute time.

Finishing the renovations on the old house ate almost everything I had to give, and my partner’s mental health struggles took the rest. I cannot begin to explain to you just how few spoons I have had between the boring job (which became much more intense with the effects of the pandemic) and Life™️.

Previously, writing and sketching helped me unwind and ground after a shift, or even during breaks. In the last few years though…

Words came slowly for La Mala Suerte, but opening any other story filled my brain with static noises. I could not string basic sentences together. I could not outline plot, I had no fragments of dialogue or vignettes fall into my head like before. When I ran out of backlog to post… Suddenly I had nothing.

Short stretches being dry like that are familiar enough, but days and weeks turned into months and years of desperately wanting to tell the stories and in the few moments of quiet I could steal away? Nothing. It’s an eerie feeling, having the vivid and even visceral scenes that are already written and outlined still looping in my head, screaming to get out, but the moment I try to write connective tissue? Right back to tv snow.

Unlike painting, my writing is accessible everywhere I go, even when it hurts to hold a pen - being able to get ‘lost’ in stories helped me through some incredibly hard times in the past, and losing that ability was devastating. The disappointment and yes, the shame of being adrift and wordless has been wretched. I have longed for the elation I used to find on the other side of a hard passage, the joy of solving the puzzle and freeing the spirit from the proverbial stone.

I still don’t entirely understand what happened in my brain that autumn of 2019… I just know that something changed, and we’re still not… entirely back from it. I am suspecting that Long Covid is now part of it - that was summer of ‘21 though, and I was already firmly lodged in The Block by then.

Maybe it was just one a longer but still normal drought and needing recovery time from intensely brain-heavy Life Events™️ until that extra layer was added? I truly don’t know. I don’t know if it matters either, except in that I am deeply afraid I will lose it again.

Anyway, that’s the ramble for the afternoon on the writing side. Hopefully the Boring Job leaves me some braincells to work on asks and stuff later.

* caveat: Except for the fact some truly wretched negative/judgy feedback can entirely poison the affected work for me and make it impossible to get forward motion(Obsidian Slipper is one such victim, I may talk about it more later.)

** hola Teca. 😒

[jacksayz]

For ever

"For ever"... Thats what she said to me, as we kissed on the tall building, while the sun was slowly getting down. I loved this moment, but I knew things will get way harder. I just didn't want something else then her and knew we will make it somehow. But now we are finally back together and nothing can change this anymore now.

I am sorry for starting like this. You are probably very confused, so let me tell you the whole story.

We went to school together in london and I have always liked her. I didnt know if she liked me too, but at some point, I knew i had to do something. I started talking to her and she did too. I wasn't sure if she even liked to talk to me, but I didn't really care, cause it just felt good to do. Comes out, my worries weren't necessary. Soon we were best friends and I didn't need someone else in my life. She told me everything and I did too. Well... I kind of did. The only thing she didn't know, was that I was actually in love with her. I really wanted to tell her, but I was too scared to completely loose her. So I waited for the right moment to tell, before it was too late.

A few years passed and we had our last year in school. My feelings hadn't got less. They even got more and knew I had to tell her in this year, because she was going to an other country the next year. Well, I was stupid and too weak to do it and the year was over, faster than i thought. A week before school was over, she told me that she is going to move far away for the next year, because of school. I already knew it, because she had told her friends and i was stalking her, as I always did, but it made me feel really special, that she was telling me too and of course I didn't want that she flew away, because I wouldn't see her for a fucking long time. But I couldn't do something against it. I immediately asked her if she would spend some of her last time here with me. And she agreed to hang out with me. She only had time on Friday, which was the very last day. I was really scared, because I knew that this could be my last chance. But this day went totally perfect. I knew I had to tell her about my feelings and so I did. In the evening we went into the city, to chill together. We wanted to look at the sunset and so, at one point, I took her on top of a tall building to watch it better. And as we watched the sun go down slowly, I just did, what I wanted to do for so long. I kissed her. I was really scared at first, but then I noticed that she seemed to like it. "She loves me back" I thought and started grabbing her hips tightly. We were kissing and hugging, while the sun was lovely going down. It was just like in a lovestory. I was really nervous and unsure what to say after we kissed. So I told her, that I loved her. She just laughed at me, because it was kind of stupid to say this. I mean it was obvious at this point. I laughed with her for a little and defended myself with saying, that I had never done something like this before. But then I went back to being serious and told her, that I didnt want some distance to change anything about our feelings. She agreed and promised to always love me.

"For ever"... thats what she whispered in my ear softly.

But things got even harder than i expected, as soon as she was gone. We texted everyday, but it just wasn't the same as seeing her. She told me about the new school and really seemed to like it there. But as we couldn't see each other for a long time, i got scared, she would fall in love with someone else. I always overthink way to much and that was really hard for my mental health. I wanted to hug her, I wanted to kiss her, I just wanted to be with her.

But I couldn't. I was worried way to much and it felt weird not to be able to meet the person I loved.

I wasn't even sure if she still liked me, which was just a stupid thought again. "Why would she still text me everyday then?" I said to myself, trying to think more positive. This didnt make it that much better, but after some months I got used to it and it was easier to only be able to text her. The rest of the year went well too and we started counting the days, until she would come back to london. After the one year finally had passed, I still really loved and fucking missed her. And as she promised me on the building, she did too. She was going to fly back to London on the 19th of July and we both were really hyped seeing each other again. I currently was on holiday, a few hours away, with my family and was going to come back on the 19th. the same day she would come back. There we immediately wanted too meet each other on the same building, we kissed one year ago, at 6pm. So we really did plan everything perfect and we thought nothing could destroy our plan.

But then something came in between. On the 19th of July, the day she was flying to London and I was driving back home again, we texted all the time and were really happy to see again. But at one point, I couldnt answer to her anymore. She had no idea what was Happening. She thought my phone might just died and I couldn't charge it anywhere right now, because I was in the car, so she didn't really worry and just waited.

On the next day, she finally arrived and was back in london. She immediately went to the one building, wich she still exactly knew where it was. Punctual at 6pm she arrived on top of it and waited for me to come. She waited a long time and slowly started to get mad, because I still wasn't there after half an hour. She knew I was a late person in general, but she expected me to be there in time for just once, as we hadn't seen for so long. She didn't want to wait any longer and decided to text me and ask where the fuck i was. But she realized, I still hadn't answered to her massage from one day ago. She didn't know what was going on and what had happened. At this moment she started to worry a little bit thought somethings wrong. She didn't know what to do and just waited even longer. To pass some time she casually started to look through her phone and read some news, because she didn't really know what was going on in London at the time. But suddenly she saw something that made her breath stock. She had just read the title and went completely pale. "Car crash a few hours away from london" She read the whole article and then she understood. She was staying still were she was for like five minutes, until she slowly walked to the edge of the building. She turned her back to the horizon and looked in the sky.

Now she knew what was going on and was aware that I wouldn't come anymore. "He isn't able to come here. I guess I'll just come to him then" she thought. She closed her eyes, started smiling a little and slowly leaned back more and more.

"For ever"... thats what she said to her self as she was falling down the building, knowing she finally would be with me again soon.